Duzy commit ze smieciami

316 files changed, 183915 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/lista0/L0Z8.md b/semestr-4/aisd/lista0/L0Z8.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d9c8604
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/lista0/L0Z8.md
@@ -0,0 +1,51 @@
+# AiSD, L0Z8
+
+Dane: $n$, $m$.
+Wynik: (Współczynnik przy $x^2$) $\mod m$ wielomianu $\underbrace{(\ldots((x-2)^2 -2)^2\ldots - 2)^2}_{n\text{ razy}}$.
+
+**Obserwacja 1:** Wszystkie obliczenia możemy wykonywać $\mod m$. Nie zwiększa to złożoności obliczeniowej, a ogranicza wartości które musimy utrzymywać.
+
+**Obserwacja 2:** Obliczając współczynniki wielomianu nie musimy obliczać współczynników przy większej potędze $x$ niż $2$.
+
+Niech $w_k(x)$ = $\underbrace{(\ldots((x-2)^2 -2)^2\ldots - 2)^2}_{k\text{ razy}}$, ale bez wyrazów gdzie $x$ występuje w potędze większej niż $2$. Dla jasności przyjmujemy $w_0(x) = x$.
+
+Mamy w takim razie $w_k(x) = a_k + b_kx + c_kx^2$. Ponadto:
+\begin{align}
+	w_{k+1}(x) &= (a_k + b_kx + c_kx^2 - 2)^2 \\
+	&= \underbrace{(a_k^2 - 4a_k + 4)}_{a_{k+1}} + \underbrace{(2a_kb_k - 4b_k)}_{b_{k+1}}x + \underbrace{(2a_kc_k + b_k^2 - 4c_k)}_{c_{k+1}}x^2 
+\end{align}
+
+Dostajemy zatem układ rekurencyjny:
+\begin{cases}
+a_0=c_0=0 \\
+b_0=1     \\
+a_{k+1} = a_k^2 - 4a_k + 4 = (a_k - 2)^2 \\
+b_{k+1} = 2a_kb_k - 4b_k   \\
+c_{k+1} = 2a_kc_k + b_k^2 - 4c_k \\
+\end{cases}
+
+**Obserwacja 3:** $a_k = 4$ dla $k \ge 1$. Faktycznie, policzmy $a_1 = (a_0 - 2)^2 = 4$. Ale $a_2 = (4 - 2)^2 = 4$. Zatem ciąg ten jest stale równy $4$ od $k = 1$.
+
+**Obserwacja 4:** $b_k = -(4^k)$ dla $k \ge 1$. Korzystając z zależności rekurencyjnej dla $k \ge 1$ mamy $b_{k+1} = 2b_k(a_k - 2) = 4b_k$, ale $b_1 = -4$, zatem $b_k = -(4^k)$.
+
+Korzystając z obserwacji 3. i 4. upraszczamy zależność rekurencyjną na $c_{k+1}$ dla $k\ge 1$:
+\begin{align}
+c_{k+1} = 8c_k + 4^{2k} - 4c_k = 4c_k + 4^{2k} 
+\end{align}
+
+Stąd już dostajemy łatwą zależność (dla $k\ge 1$):
+
+$$
+\left[\begin{array}{cc} 
+4 & 1\\
+0 & 16
+\end{array}\right]
+\left[\begin{array}{cc} 
+c_k\\ 
+4^{2k}
+\end{array}\right] = 
+\left[\begin{array}{cc} 
+c_{k+1}\\ 
+4^{2(k+1)}
+\end{array}\right]
+$$ 
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/lista0/Rozw L0.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/lista0/Rozw L0.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d39c13b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/lista0/Rozw L0.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/lista0/lista0.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/lista0/lista0.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31b9daa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/lista0/lista0.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/lista1/Lista 1.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/lista1/Lista 1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e2f5ae
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/lista1/Lista 1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/lista1/lista1.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/lista1/lista1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a7dc065
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/lista1/lista1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/lista2/Lista 2.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/lista2/Lista 2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ccf83b7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/lista2/Lista 2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/lista2/lista2.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/lista2/lista2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2d8937f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/lista2/lista2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/lista3/huff.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/lista3/huff.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bf2cfec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/lista3/huff.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/lista3/huffman.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/lista3/huffman.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1881a27
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/lista3/huffman.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/lista3/lista3.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/lista3/lista3.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..74514b8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/lista3/lista3.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia1/pracownia1.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia1/pracownia1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2b99ba4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia1/pracownia1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia1/rozw.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia1/rozw.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..acbd711
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia1/rozw.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,59 @@
+#include<bits/stdc++.h>

+using namespace std;

+typedef long long ll;

+

+vector<pair<int, pair<int, int>>> v;

+const int MAX_LEN = 85;

+int bits[100];

+

+int main() {

+  ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);

+  cin.tie();

+  int n;

+  cin >> n;

+  for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {

+    int d, nd;

+    cin >> d >> nd;

+    int k = 0;

+    while (d % 2 == 0) {

+      d /= 2;

+      k++;

+    }

+    v.push_back({d, {k, nd}});

+  }

+  sort(v.begin(), v.end());

+  int result = 0;

+  

+  for (int i = 0; i < n; ) {

+    int h = i;

+    int d = v[i].first;

+    while (h < n && v[h].first == d) {

+      h++;

+    }

+    for (int k = 0; k < MAX_LEN; k++) 

+      bits[k] = 0;

+    for (int j = i; j < h; ++j) {

+      ll x = (ll)(1LL << v[j].second.first) * (ll)v[j].second.second;

+      int k = 0;

+      while (x > 0) {

+        if (x % 2 == 1) {

+          bits[k]++;

+        }

+        x /= 2;

+        k++;

+      }

+    }

+

+    for (int k = 0; k < MAX_LEN; k++) {

+      if (bits[k] > 1) {

+        bits[k + 1] += bits[k]/2;

+      }

+      if (bits[k] % 2 == 1) {

+        result++;

+      }

+    }

+    i = h;

+  }

+

+  cout << result << "\n";

+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia1/rozw2.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia1/rozw2.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..35fd37e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia1/rozw2.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,33 @@
+#include<bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+typedef unsigned long long ll;
+
+vector<pair<int, ll>> v;
+
+int main() {
+    int n;
+    scanf("%d", &n);
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+        int d, nd, k = 0;
+        scanf("%d %d", &d, &nd);
+        while (d % 2 == 0) {
+            k++;
+            d /= 2;
+        }
+        v.push_back({d, (ll)(1LL<<k) * (ll)nd});
+    }
+    sort(v.begin(), v.end());
+    int result = 0;
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; ) {
+        int j = i;
+        int cur = v[i].first;
+        ll count = 0;
+        while (j < n && v[j].first == cur) {
+            count += v[j].second;
+            ++j;
+        }
+        result += __builtin_popcountll(count);
+        i = j;
+    }
+    cout << result << "\n";
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/gen.py b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/gen.py
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..13aed55
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/gen.py
@@ -0,0 +1,24 @@
+from random import randint, seed
+import sys
+
+if (len(sys.argv) < 4):
+    print("usage: python3 gen.py seed n sum")
+    exit()
+
+seed(sys.argv[1])
+
+n, sum = map(int, sys.argv[2:4])
+if n > sum:
+    print("N musi być mniejsze równe od sum.")
+    exit()
+
+t = [1 for i in range(n)]
+
+for i in range(sum - n):
+    idx = randint(0, n - 1)
+    t[idx] += 1
+
+print(n)
+for i in t:
+    print(i, end=' ')
+print()
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/gen_test.sh b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/gen_test.sh
new file mode 100755
index 0000000..d5bff05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/gen_test.sh
@@ -0,0 +1,24 @@
+#!/bin/bash
+
+mkdir -p tests
+cp gen.py tests/
+cd tests
+
+python3 gen.py 1 5 20 > t1.in
+python3 gen.py 2 10 100 > t2.in
+python3 gen.py 3 20 200 > t3.in
+python3 gen.py 4 40 600 > t4.in
+python3 gen.py 5 80 5000 > t5.in
+python3 gen.py 6 160 10000 > t6.in
+python3 gen.py 7 320 10000 > t7.in
+python3 gen.py 8 640 20000 > t8.in
+python3 gen.py 9 1280 20000 > t9.in
+python3 gen.py 10 2000 2000 > t10.in
+python3 gen.py 11 2000 20000 > t11.in
+python3 gen.py 12 2000 200000 > t12.in
+python3 gen.py 13 2000 1000000 > t13.in
+python3 gen.py 14 2000 1000000 > t14.in
+python3 gen.py 15 2000 1000000 > t15.in
+
+
+rm gen.py
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/rozw.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/rozw.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dd0d700
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/rozw.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,59 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+
+const int MAX_SUM = 1e6;
+const int N = 2e3 + 10;
+
+unordered_map<int, int> sums;
+vector<pair<int, int>> v;
+
+int main() {
+    int n;
+    scanf("%d", &n);
+    sums[0] = 0;
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+        int h;
+        scanf("%d", &h);
+        v.clear();
+        for (auto kv: sums) {
+            v.push_back(kv);
+        }
+
+        for (auto kv: v) {
+            int dif = kv.first, best = kv.second;
+            cout << dif << " " << best << "\n";
+            int aux = 0;
+            if (dif >= 0) {
+                aux = h;
+            } else if (dif + h > 0) {
+                aux = dif + h;
+            }
+
+            cout << ">aux: " << aux << " ";
+            sums[dif + h] = max(sums[dif + h], best + aux);
+            aux = 0;
+            if (dif <= 0) {
+                aux = h;
+            } else if (dif - h < 0) {
+                aux = h - dif;
+            }
+            cout << aux << "\n";
+            sums[dif - h] = max(sums[dif - h], best + aux);
+        }
+        cout << "---\n";
+    }
+    for (auto kv: sums) {
+        printf("%d %d\n", kv.first, kv.second);
+    }
+
+    if (sums[0] != 0) {
+        printf("TAK\n%d\n", sums[0]);
+    } else {
+        int mini = 1e9;
+        sums.erase(0);
+        for (auto kv: sums) {
+            mini = min(mini, abs(kv.first));
+        }
+        printf("NIE\n%d\n", mini);
+    }
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/rozw2.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/rozw2.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fa0b2d6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/rozw2.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,71 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+
+const int MAX_SUM = 5e5;
+
+int t[2][MAX_SUM * 2 + 10];
+int H[2003];
+uint8_t eligible[2][MAX_SUM * 2 + 10];     // 0 - not used, 1 - only st, 2 - only nd, 3 - both
+
+int main() {
+    int n, sum = 0, which = 0;
+    scanf("%d", &n);
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; i++)
+        scanf("%d", &H[i]);
+    sort(H, H + n);
+
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+        // cout << i << "\n";
+        int h = H[i], *prev = t[which], *cur = t[which ^ 1];
+        uint8_t *pe = eligible[which], *ce = eligible[which ^ 1];
+
+        for (int dif = -sum; dif <= sum; ++dif) {
+            int aux = 0;
+            // cout << (int)pe[dif + MAX_SUM] << "\n";
+            
+            if (abs(dif) > MAX_SUM || (pe[dif + MAX_SUM] == 0 && dif != 0)) continue;
+            
+            if (dif + h <= MAX_SUM) {
+                if (dif >= 0) {
+                    aux = h;
+                } else if (dif + h > 0) {
+                    aux = dif + h;
+                }
+                int idx = dif + h + MAX_SUM;
+
+                cur[idx] = max({cur[idx], prev[idx], prev[idx - h] + aux});
+                ce[idx] |= pe[dif + MAX_SUM] | 1;
+                // cout << "> " << idx - MAX_SUM << " " << cur[idx] << " " << (int)eligible[idx] << "\n";
+            }
+
+            if (dif - h >= -MAX_SUM) {
+                aux = 0;
+                if (dif <= 0) {
+                    aux = h;
+                } else if (dif - h < 0) {
+                    aux = h - dif;
+                }
+                int idx = dif - h + MAX_SUM;
+                cur[idx] = max({cur[idx], prev[idx], prev[idx + h] + aux});
+                ce[idx] |= pe[dif + MAX_SUM] | 2;
+                // cout << ">> " << idx - MAX_SUM << " " << cur[idx] << " " << (int)eligible[idx] << "\n";
+            }
+        }
+        sum += h;
+        which ^= 1;
+        // for (int dif = -sum; dif <= sum; ++dif) {
+        //     cout << dif << " " << " " << (int)ce[dif + MAX_SUM] << " " << cur[dif + MAX_SUM] << "\n";
+        // }
+        // printf("-----\n");
+    }
+    if (eligible[which][MAX_SUM] == 3) {
+        printf("TAK\n%d\n", t[which][MAX_SUM]);
+    } else {
+        int mini = 1e9;
+        for (int i = -MAX_SUM; i <= MAX_SUM; i++) {
+            if (eligible[which][i + MAX_SUM] == 3)
+                mini = min(mini, abs(i));
+        }
+        printf("NIE\n%d\n", mini);
+    }
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/rozw3.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/rozw3.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8e3dd2a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/rozw3.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,71 @@
+#include<bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+
+#define RIGHT 0
+#define LEFT 1
+
+const int MAXN = 2e3 + 10;
+const int M = 5e5 + 10;
+
+int n, H[MAXN], dp[2][M*2];
+bool vis[2][M*2], both[2][M*2];
+
+int get_val()
+
+int main() {
+    ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);
+    cin.tie();
+    cin >> n;
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+        cin >> H[i];
+    }
+
+    int sum = 0, K = 0;
+    vis[K^1][0] = true;
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+        int h = H[i];
+        for (int cur = -sum; cur <= sum; ++cur) {
+            vis[K][cur + M] |= vis[K^1][cur + M];
+            both[K][cur + M] |= both[K^1][cur + M];
+            dp[K][cur + M] = max({dp[K][cur + M], dp[K^1][cur + M]});
+            if (vis[K][cur + M]) {
+                int val = dp[K][cur + M];
+                int left = cur + M - h;
+                int right = cur + M + h;
+
+                if (cur - h >= 0) {
+                    both[K][right] = true;
+                }
+                vis[K][right] = true;
+                dp[K][right] = max({dp[K][right], dp[K^1][right], dp[K^1][right] + h});
+
+                if (cur + h <= 0) {
+                    both[K][left]= true;
+                }
+                vis[K][left] = true;
+                dp[K][left] = max({dp[K][left], dp[K^1][left], dp[K^1][left] + h});
+            }
+        }
+        K^=1;
+        for (int cur = -sum; cur <= sum; ++cur) {
+            dp[K][cur + M] = 0;
+            vis[K][cur + M] = 0;
+            both[K][cur + M] = 0;
+        }
+        sum += h;
+    }
+    K^=1;
+    if (both[K][M]) {
+        cout << "TAK\n";
+        cout << dp[K][M] << "\n";
+    } else {
+        cout << "NIE\n";
+        int best = -sum;
+        for (int cur = -sum ; cur <= sum; ++cur) {
+            if (both[cur + M] && abs(cur) < abs(best)) {
+                best = cur;
+            }
+        }
+        cout << abs(best) << "\n";
+    }
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/rozw4.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/rozw4.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..73ff79a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/rozw4.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,51 @@
+#include<bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+
+const int MAX_SUM = 1e6, MAXN = 2004;
+int n;
+int dp[2][MAX_SUM + 10], H[MAXN];
+
+int main() {
+    scanf("%d", &n);
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; ++i) {
+        scanf("%d", &H[i]);
+    }
+    
+    sort(H, H + n);
+
+    int sum = 0, K = 0;
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; ++i) {
+        int h = H[i];
+        for (int i = 0; i <= min(sum, MAX_SUM); i++) 
+            dp[K^1][i] = dp[K][i];
+            
+        for (int i = 0; i <= min(sum, MAX_SUM); i++) {
+            if (i != 0 && dp[K][i] == 0) continue;
+
+            int left = abs(i - h), aux = i-h >= 0 ? 0 : h-i;
+            if (left <= MAX_SUM) {
+                dp[K^1][left] = max(dp[K^1][left], dp[K][i] + aux);
+            }
+            int right = i + h;
+            if (right <= MAX_SUM) {
+                dp[K^1][right] = max(dp[K^1][right], dp[K][i] + h);
+            }
+        }
+        
+        K ^= 1;            
+        sum += h;
+    }
+    if (dp[K][0] != 0) {
+        printf("TAK\n%d\n", dp[K][0]);
+    }
+    else {
+        int res = 0;
+        for (int i = 1; i <= MAX_SUM; i++) {
+            if (dp[K][i] != i && dp[K][i]) {
+                res = i;
+                break;
+            }
+        }
+        printf("NIE\n%d\n", res);
+    }
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/show_problem.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/show_problem.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4ab0312
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia2/show_problem.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/check.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/check.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c9c74d7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/check.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,87 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+
+int n, p, m;
+int banned[103][3][3];
+int plane[5][10];
+
+bool check(int k, int i, int pp) {
+    for (int kk = k; kk < k + 3; kk++) {
+        for (int ii = i; ii < i + 3; ii++) {
+            if (plane[kk][ii] != banned[pp][kk-k][ii-i])
+                return false;
+        }
+    }
+    return true;
+}
+
+void debug(int pp) {
+    for (int i = 0; i < 3; ++i) {
+        for (int j = 0; j < 3; ++j) {
+            cout << ((banned[pp][i][j] == 0) ? '.' : 'x');
+        }
+        cout << "\n";
+    }
+}
+
+void debug() {
+    for (int k = 0; k < 5; ++k) {
+        for (int i = 0; i < n; ++i) {
+            cout << (plane[k][i] ? 'x' : '.');
+        }
+        cout << "\n"; 
+    }
+    cout << "\n";
+}
+
+int ile[1030];
+
+int main() {
+    cin >> n >> p >> m;
+    for (int i = 0; i < p; i++) {
+        for (int k = 0; k < 3; k++) {
+            string s;
+            cin >> s;
+            for (int j = 0; j < 3; ++j) {
+                banned[i][k][j] = (s[j] == 'x');
+            }
+        }
+    }
+    int res = 0;
+    for (int mask = 0; mask < (1<<(5 * n)); mask++) {
+        for (int k = 0; k < 5; ++k) {
+            for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+                plane[k][i] = ((mask & (1 << (k * n + i))) > 0);
+            }
+        }
+        bool dziala = true;
+        for (int k = 0; k < 3; ++k) {
+            for (int i = 0; i < n-2; ++i) {
+                for (int j = 0; j < p; ++j) {
+                    if (check(k, i, j)) {
+                        dziala = false;
+                        break;
+                    }
+                }
+                if (!dziala) break;
+            }
+            if (!dziala) break;
+        }
+        if (dziala) {
+            res++;
+            if (res == m) {
+                res = 0;
+            }
+            int mm = 0;
+            for (int i = 0; i < 5; ++i) {
+                mm += plane[i][n-2] * (1<<(i*2));
+                mm += plane[i][n-1] * (1<<(i*2 + 1));
+            }
+            ile[mm]++;
+        }
+    }  
+    for (int i = 0; i < 1024; ++i) {
+        cout << i << ": " << ile[i] << "\n";
+    }
+    cout << res % m << "\n";
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/gen.py b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/gen.py
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b572647
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/gen.py
@@ -0,0 +1,14 @@
+import sys
+
+mask = int(sys.argv[1])
+print(3, 1, 1000000)
+
+def f(m):
+    t = [[0]*3]*3
+    for i in range(3):
+        for j in range(3):
+            t[i][j] = (m >> (i*3 + j)) & 1
+            print('x' if t[i][j] else '.', end='')
+        print()
+
+f(mask)
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/ocen.sh b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/ocen.sh
new file mode 100755
index 0000000..593aa67
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/ocen.sh
@@ -0,0 +1,18 @@
+#!/bin/bash
+
+make rozw
+make check
+for i in {0..1023}
+do
+    python3 gen.py $i > t.in
+    ./rozw < t.in > wa.out
+    ./check < t.in > t.out
+    if diff -w wa.out t.out
+    then
+        echo $i
+        echo ok
+    else
+        echo nieok
+        break
+    fi
+done
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/rozw.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/rozw.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7f1a307
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/rozw.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,102 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+
+const int MAXP = 105;
+const int MAXN = 5005;
+
+int n, p, m;
+unordered_set<int> banned;
+vector<pair<int, int>> propagate;
+int dp[2][1024 + 10];
+
+inline int char_to_bit(char c) {
+    return c == '.' ? 0 : 1;
+}
+
+void input() {
+    scanf("%d%d%d", &n, &p, &m);
+    for (int i = 0; i < p; i++) {
+        char s[5];
+        int value = 0, d = 1;
+        for (int k = 0; k < 3; k++) {
+            scanf("%s", s);
+            value += (char_to_bit(s[0]) + char_to_bit(s[1]) * 2 + char_to_bit(s[2]) * 4) * d;
+            d *= 8;
+        }
+        banned.insert(value);
+    }
+}
+
+pair<int, pair<int, int>> get_pieces_values(int db, int sb) {
+    int tab[5][3];
+    for (int i = 0; i < 5; i++) {
+        tab[i][0] = (db >> (i*2)) & 1;
+        tab[i][1] = (db >> (i*2 + 1)) & 1;
+        tab[i][2] = (sb >> i) & 1;
+    }
+    int res[3];
+    for (int k = 0; k < 3; ++k) {
+        int value = 0, d = 1;
+        for (int i = k; i < k + 3; ++i) {
+            value += (tab[i][0] + tab[i][1] * 2 + tab[i][2] * 4) * d;
+            d *= 8;
+        }
+        res[k] = value;
+    }
+    return {res[0], {res[1], res[2]}};
+}
+
+int combine(int db, int sb) {
+    int res = (db >> 1) & 0x155;
+    for (int i = 0; i < 5; i++) {
+        res |= ((sb >> i) & 1) << (2*i + 1);
+    }
+    return res;
+}
+
+void preproces() {
+    const int db = (1<<10);     // double bar
+    const int sb = (1<<5);      // single bar
+
+    for (int db_mask = 0; db_mask < db; ++db_mask) {
+        for (int sb_mask = 0; sb_mask < sb; ++sb_mask) {
+            auto pieces = get_pieces_values(db_mask, sb_mask);
+            if (banned.count(pieces.first) || banned.count(pieces.second.first) || banned.count(pieces.second.second)) 
+                continue;
+            int db2_mask = combine(db_mask, sb_mask);
+            propagate.push_back({db_mask, db2_mask});
+        }
+    }
+}
+
+int compute_dp() {
+    int K = 1;
+    for (int i = 0; i < 1024; i++) {
+        dp[0][i] = 1;
+    }
+    for (int i = 2; i < n; i++) {
+        for (auto pp: propagate) {
+            int p1 = pp.first, p2 = pp.second;
+            dp[K][p2] += dp[K^1][p1];
+            dp[K][p2] %= m;
+        }
+        K ^= 1;
+        for (int j = 0; j < 1024; ++j) {
+            dp[K][j] = 0;
+        }
+    }
+
+    K ^= 1;
+    int result = 0;
+    for (int i = 0; i < 1024; i++) {
+        result += dp[K][i];
+        result %= m;
+    }
+    return result;
+}
+
+int main() {
+    input();
+    preproces();
+    printf("%d\n", compute_dp());
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/show_problem.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/show_problem.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f426311
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/show_problem.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/wa.outr b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/wa.outr
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..81a8bb1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia3/wa.outr
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diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/brut.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/brut.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..32f4ebb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/brut.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,69 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+typedef long long ll;
+
+struct insert_list {
+    vector<int> v;
+    
+    insert_list() {
+    }
+
+    void insert(int p, int val) {
+        assert(p <= v.size());
+        assert(p >= 0);
+        vector<int> temp;
+        for (int i = 0; i < p; i++) {
+            temp.push_back(v[i]);
+        }
+        temp.push_back(val);
+        for (int i = p; i < v.size(); i++) {
+            temp.push_back(v[i]);
+        }
+        v = temp;
+    }
+
+    void erase(int p) {
+        assert(p <= v.size());
+        assert(p >= 1);
+        vector<int> temp;
+        for (int i = 0; i < p-1; i++) {
+            temp.push_back(v[i]);
+        }
+        for (int i = p; i < v.size(); i++) {
+            temp.push_back(v[i]);
+        }
+        v = temp;
+    }
+
+    ll sum(int l, int r) {
+        ll ans = 0;
+        for (int i = l-1; i < r; i++) {
+            ans += v[i];
+        }
+        return ans;
+    }
+};  
+
+insert_list v;
+
+int main() {
+    ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);
+    cin.tie();
+    int n;
+    cin >> n;
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+        char c;
+        cin >> c;
+        if (c == 'D') {
+            int a;
+            cin >> a;
+            v.erase(a);
+        }
+        else {
+            int a, b;
+            cin >> a >> b;
+            if (c == 'I') v.insert(a, b);
+            else cout << v.sum(a,b) << "\n";
+        }
+    }
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/gen.py b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/gen.py
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..733a60e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/gen.py
@@ -0,0 +1,24 @@
+from random import randint, seed, choice
+import sys
+
+
+seed(sys.argv[1])
+n = int(sys.argv[2])
+l = 0
+print(n)
+
+
+for i in range(n):
+    c = choice('ISD')
+    if l == 0:
+        c = 'I'
+
+    if c == 'D':
+        print(c, randint(1, l))
+        l -= 1
+    elif c == 'I':
+        print(c, randint(0, l), randint(-10, 10))
+        l += 1
+    else:
+        a = randint(1, l)
+        print(c, a, randint(a, l))
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/rozw.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/rozw.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c314e2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/rozw.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,157 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+typedef long long ll;
+
+const int K = 20;
+const int M = (1<<K);
+const size_t tree_size = M*2 + 10;
+
+struct query {
+    char type;
+    union {
+        struct insert {
+            int p;
+            int x;
+        } insert;
+        struct sum {
+            int from;
+            int to;
+        } sum;
+        int del;
+    } info;
+};
+
+struct kox_set {
+    ll tree[tree_size];
+
+    kox_set() {
+        for (int i = 0; i < tree_size; i++) tree[i] = 0;
+    }
+
+    void add(int val) {
+        update(val, 1);
+    }
+
+    void del(int val) {
+        update(val, -1);
+    }
+
+    void update(int where, int val) {
+        where += M;
+        while (where) {
+            tree[where] += val;
+            where /= 2;
+        }
+    }
+
+    ll sum(int from, int to) {
+        from += M;
+        to += M;
+        ll ans = tree[from];
+        if (from != to) ans += tree[to];
+        while (from/2 != to/2) {
+            if (from % 2 == 0)  ans += tree[from + 1];
+            if (to % 2 == 1)    ans += tree[to - 1];
+            to /= 2; from /= 2;
+        }
+        return ans;
+    }
+
+    int kth_elem(int k) {
+        int where = 1;
+        while (where < M) {
+            where *= 2;
+            if (tree[where] < k) {
+                k -= tree[where];
+                where += 1;
+            } 
+        }
+        return where - M;
+    }
+
+    void fill(int value) {
+        for (int i = 0; i < M; i++) {
+            tree[i + M] = value;
+        }
+        for (int d = K-1; d >= 0; d--) {
+            int maks = (1<<d);
+            for (int i = 0; i < maks; i++) {
+                int ind = i + maks;
+                tree[ind] = tree[ind*2] + tree[ind*2 + 1];
+            }
+        }
+    }
+};
+
+vector<query> queries;
+map<int, int> q_to_pos;
+kox_set secik;
+kox_set pstree;
+
+
+int main() {
+    int n, inserts = 0;
+    scanf("%d", &n);
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; ++i) {
+        char c;
+        scanf(" %c", &c);
+        query q;
+        q.type = c;
+        if (c == 'D') {
+            int a;
+            scanf("%d", &a);
+            pstree.add(a);
+            q.info.del = a;
+        }
+        else {
+            int a, b;
+            scanf("%d%d", &a, &b);
+            q.type = c;
+            if (c == 'I') {
+                q.info.insert = {a, b};
+                inserts++;
+            } else {
+                q.info.sum = {a, b};
+            }
+        }
+        queries.push_back(q);
+    }
+
+    secik.fill(1);
+    for (int i = n-1; i >= 0; i--) {
+        query q = queries[i];
+        if (q.type == 'D') {
+            pstree.del(q.info.del);
+        }
+        if (q.type == 'I') {
+            int offset = pstree.sum(0, q.info.insert.p);
+            int kth = secik.kth_elem(q.info.insert.p + offset + 1);
+            secik.del(kth);
+            q_to_pos[i] = kth;
+            cout << q.info.insert.p << " " << offset << "\n";
+            cout << i << ": " << q_to_pos[i] << "\n";
+        }
+    }
+    secik.fill(0);
+    pstree.fill(0);
+
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+        query q = queries[i];
+        if (q.type == 'I') {
+            secik.add(q_to_pos[i]);
+            pstree.update(q_to_pos[i], q.info.insert.x);
+            // cout << "Inserting " << q.info.insert.x << " to " << q_to_pos[i] << "\n";
+        }
+        if (q.type == 'D') {
+            int pos = secik.kth_elem(q.info.del);
+            // cout << "kth: " << q.info.del << " " << pos << "\n";
+            secik.del(pos);
+            pstree.update(pos, -pstree.tree[pos + M]);
+        }
+        if (q.type == 'S') {
+            int from = secik.kth_elem(q.info.sum.from);
+            int to = secik.kth_elem(q.info.sum.to);
+            printf("%lld\n", pstree.sum(from, to));
+        }   
+    }
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/rozw2.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/rozw2.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..17562a9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/rozw2.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,135 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+
+struct treap {
+    typedef long long T;
+    treap *left = nullptr;
+    treap *right = nullptr;
+    int rank, items = 1;
+    T value;
+    T sum;
+    bool rev = false;
+
+    treap(T val = T()) : rank(rand()), value(val), sum(val) {}
+
+    inline void update() {
+        if (rev) {
+            swap(left, right);
+            if (left)   left->rev   = !left->rev;
+            if (right)  right->rev  = !right->rev;
+            rev = false;
+        }
+    }
+};
+
+inline int items(treap *t) { return t ? t->items : 0; }
+inline int sum(treap *t)   { return t ? t->sum : 0; }
+inline void recalc(treap *t) { 
+    t->items = items(t->left) + items(t->right) + 1; 
+    t->sum   = sum(t->left) + sum(t->right) + t->value;
+}
+
+pair<treap*, treap*> split(treap *t, int k) {
+    if (!t) return {nullptr, nullptr};
+    t->update();
+    if (items(t->left) < k) {
+        auto p = split(t->right, k - items(t->left) - 1);
+        t->right = p.first;
+        recalc(t);
+        return {t, p.second};
+    }
+    else {
+        auto p = split(t->left, k);
+        t->right = p.first;
+        recalc(t);
+        return {p.first, t};
+    }
+}
+
+treap* merge(treap *a, treap *b) {
+    if (!a) return b;
+    if (!b) return a;
+    a->update();
+    b->update();
+    if (a->rank > b->rank) {
+        a->right = merge(a->right, b);
+        recalc(a);
+        return a;
+    }
+    else {
+        b->left = merge(a, b->left);
+        recalc(b);
+        return b;
+    }
+}
+
+treap::T select(treap *t, int k) {
+    if (!t) return treap::T();
+    t->update();
+    int i = items(t->left);
+    if (i == k)         return t->value;
+    else if (i > k)     return select(t->left, k);
+    else                return select(t->right, k - i - 1);
+}
+
+treap *insert (treap *t, treap::T val, int k) {
+    auto p = split(t, k);
+    return merge(merge(p.first, new treap(val)), p.second);
+}
+
+treap *erase(treap *t, int k) {
+    auto p1 = split(t, k);
+    auto p2 = split(p1.second, 1);
+    return merge(p1.first, p2.second);
+}
+
+treap::T sum(treap *t, int l, int r) {
+    auto p1 = split(t, r);
+    auto p2 = split(p1.first, l);
+    return sum(p2.second);
+} 
+
+void write(treap *t) {
+    if (!t) return;
+    t->update();
+    write(t->left);
+    cout << t->value << " ";
+    write(t->right);
+}
+void destroy(treap *t) {
+    if (!t) return;
+    destroy(t->left);
+    destroy(t->right);
+    delete t;
+}
+
+treap *t = 0;
+
+int main() {
+    int n;
+    scanf("%d", &n);
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+        char c;
+        scanf(" %c", &c);
+        if (c == 'I') {
+            int p, x;
+            scanf("%d%d", &p, &x);
+            t = insert(t, x, p);
+        }
+        if (c == 'D') {
+            int p;
+            scanf("%d", &p);
+            t = erase(t, p - 1);
+        }
+        if (c == 'S') {
+            int l, r;
+            scanf("%d%d", &l, &r);
+            printf("ans: %lld\n", sum(t, l, r));
+        }
+        cout << "Treap:\n";
+        write(t);
+        cout << "\n";
+    }
+
+    destroy(t);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/rozw3.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/rozw3.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ec107ef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/rozw3.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,149 @@
+
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+
+struct treap
+{
+    typedef long long T;
+    treap *left = nullptr, *right = nullptr;
+    
+    int rank, items = 1;
+    bool rev = false;
+    T value, sum;
+    
+    treap(T val = T()) : value(val), sum(val), rank(rand()) { }
+    
+    inline void update()
+    {
+        if(rev)
+        {
+            swap(left, right);
+            if(left) left->rev = !left->rev;
+            if(right) right->rev = !right->rev;
+            rev = false;
+        }
+    }
+};
+
+inline int items(treap *t) { return t ? t->items : 0; }
+inline treap::T sum(treap *t) { return t ? t->sum : 0; }
+inline void recalc(treap *t) { 
+    t->items = items(t->left) + items(t->right) + 1; 
+    t->sum   = sum(t->left) + sum(t->right) + t->value;    
+}
+
+pair<treap*, treap*> split(treap *t, int k) //dzieli na prefiks dlugosci k i reszte
+{
+    if(!t) return make_pair(nullptr, nullptr);
+    //t = new treap(*t); //odkomentowac zeby zrobic strukture trwala
+    t->update();
+    if(items(t->left) < k)
+    {
+        auto p = split(t->right, k - items(t->left) - 1);
+        t->right = p.first;
+        recalc(t);
+        return make_pair(t, p.second);
+    }
+    else
+    {
+        auto p = split(t->left, k);
+        t->left = p.second;
+        recalc(t);
+        return make_pair(p.first, t);
+    }
+}
+
+treap* merge(treap *a, treap *b)
+{
+    if(!a) return b;
+    if(!b) return a;
+    a->update();
+    b->update();
+    if(a->rank > b->rank) {
+        a->right = merge(a->right, b);
+        recalc(a);
+        return a;
+    }
+    else {
+        b->left = merge(a, b->left);
+        recalc(b);
+        return b;
+    }
+}
+
+treap::T select(treap *t, int k) //zwraca k-ty element
+{
+    if(!t) return treap::T();
+    t->update();
+    int i = items(t->left);
+    if(i == k) return t->value;
+    if(i > k) return select(t->left, k);
+    return select(t->right, k - i - 1);
+}
+
+treap* insert(treap *t, treap::T val, int k) //wstaw val na pozycje k (liczac od 0)
+{
+    auto p = split(t, k);
+    return merge(merge(p.first, new treap(val)), p.second);
+}
+void write(treap *t)
+{
+    if(!t) return;
+    t->update();
+    write(t->left);
+    cout << "(" << t->value << ", " << t->sum << ") ";
+    write(t->right);
+}
+
+treap* erase(treap *t, int k)
+{
+    auto p1 = split(t, k);
+    auto p2 = split(p1.second, 1);
+    return merge(p1.first, p2.second);
+}
+
+treap* reverse(treap *t, int a, int b) //odwroc przedzial <a, b)
+{
+    auto p1 = split(t, b);
+    auto p2 = split(p1.first, a);
+    if(p2.second) p2.second->rev = !p2.second->rev;
+    return merge(merge(p2.first, p2.second), p1.second);
+}
+
+treap::T sum(treap* t, int l, int r) {
+    auto p1 = split(t, r);
+    auto p2 = split(p1.first, l);
+    treap::T ret = sum(p2.second);
+    merge(merge(p2.first, p2.second), p1.second);
+    return ret;
+}
+
+treap *root = 0;
+
+int main() {
+    int n;
+    scanf("%d", &n);
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+        char c;
+        scanf(" %c", &c);
+        if (c == 'I') {
+            int p, x;
+            scanf("%d%d", &p, &x);
+            root = insert(root, x, p);
+        }
+        if (c == 'D') {
+            int p;
+            scanf("%d", &p);
+            root = erase(root, p - 1);
+        }
+        if (c == 'S') {
+            int l, r;
+            scanf("%d%d", &l, &r);
+            printf("%lld\n", sum(root, l - 1, r));
+        }
+        // cout << "Treap:\n";
+        // write(root);
+        // cout << "\n";
+    }
+
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/show_problem.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/show_problem.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8a1c155
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/show_problem.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/test.sh b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/test.sh
new file mode 100755
index 0000000..dc725ad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia4/test.sh
@@ -0,0 +1,21 @@
+#!/bin/bash
+
+make brut
+make rozw3
+
+
+for i in {1..10000}
+do
+    echo $i
+    python3 gen.py $i $1 > test.in
+    ./rozw3 < test.in > wa.out
+    ./brut < test.in > test.out
+
+    if diff -w test.out wa.out
+    then
+        echo ok
+    else
+        echo nieok
+        break
+    fi
+done
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia5/gen.py b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia5/gen.py
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..85d332c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia5/gen.py
@@ -0,0 +1,40 @@
+import random
+import sys
+
+random.seed(sys.argv[1])
+
+n = int(sys.argv[2])
+maxcoord = 200
+
+
+print(n)
+for i in range(n):
+  ty = random.randint(0, 3)
+  a, b = 0, 0
+  y1, y2 = 0, 0
+  if ty == 0:
+    a = random.randint(0, maxcoord)
+    b = random.randint(a+1, maxcoord + 1)
+    y1 = random.randint(0, maxcoord)
+    y2 = y1
+  if ty == 1:
+    y1 = random.randint(0, maxcoord)
+    y2 = random.randint(a+1, maxcoord + 1)
+    a = random.randint(0, maxcoord)
+    b = a
+  if ty == 2:
+    a = random.randint(0, maxcoord)
+    b = random.randint(0, maxcoord)
+    x = random.randint(1, maxcoord)
+    y1 = b
+    b = a + x
+    y2 = y1 + x
+  if ty == 3:
+    a = random.randint(0, maxcoord)
+    b = random.randint(0, maxcoord)
+    x = random.randint(1, maxcoord)
+    y1 = b
+    b = a + x
+    y2 = y1 - x
+
+  print(a, y1, b, y2)
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia5/t.tin b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia5/t.tin
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia5/t.tin
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia5/wzo.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia5/wzo.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d4aa4fa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia5/wzo.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,288 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+
+#define VER_T 1
+#define HOR_T 0
+
+#define BEG 0
+#define END 1
+
+struct event {
+  int x, y, z;
+  bool t;
+  event(int _x=0, bool _t=false, int _y=0, int _z=0) : x(_x), y(_y), z(_z), t(_t) {}
+
+  bool operator < (const event &e) const {
+    if (x == e.x) {
+      if (t == e.t) return make_pair(y, z) < make_pair(e.y, e.z);
+      if (t == HOR_T) return z == BEG;
+      if (e.t == HOR_T) return e.z == END;
+      return t < e.t;
+      // if (t == HOR_T && z == BEG) return true;
+      // else if (t == HOR_T) return false;
+      // else if (e.t == HOR_T && e.z == BEG) return false;
+      // else if (e.t == HOR_T) return true;
+      // return (make_pair(y,z) < make_pair(e.y, e.z));
+    }
+    return x < e.x;
+    // return make_pair(x, make_pair(t, make_pair(y, z))) < make_pair(e.x, make_pair(e.t, make_pair(e.y, e.z)));
+  }
+
+};
+
+struct pnt {
+  int x, y;
+
+  pnt(int _x=0, int _y=0) : x(_x), y(_y) {}
+
+  void transpoze(int a11, int a12, int a21, int a22) {
+    int temp = x*a11 + y*a12;
+    y = x*a21 + y*a22;
+    x = temp;
+  }
+  bool operator == (const pnt &p) {
+    return (x==p.x && y == p.y);
+  }
+
+};
+
+struct seg {
+  pnt st, nd;
+
+  seg(pnt p1=pnt(), pnt p2=pnt()) : st(p1), nd(p2) {}
+
+  void transpoze(int a11, int a12, int a21, int a22) {
+    st.transpoze(a11, a12, a21, a22);
+    nd.transpoze(a11, a12, a21, a22);
+  }
+};
+
+inline int sig(int x) {
+  if (x < 0)  return -1;
+  if (x == 0) return 0;
+  if (x > 0)  return 1;
+}
+
+void swap(pnt &x, pnt &y) {
+  swap(x.x, y.x);
+  swap(x.y, y.y);
+}
+
+vector<event> events;
+map<int, int> points;
+
+void get_cross_pnts(vector<pnt> &result, vector<seg> &hor, vector<seg> &ver) {
+  events.resize(0);
+  points.clear();
+  // cout << "h:\n";
+  for (auto &s: hor) {
+    if (s.st.x > s.nd.x) swap(s.st, s.nd);
+    // cout << s.st.x << " " << s.st.y << ", " << s.nd.x << " " <<  s.nd.y << "\n";
+    events.push_back(event(s.st.x, HOR_T, s.st.y, BEG));
+    events.push_back(event(s.nd.x, HOR_T, s.st.y, END));
+  }
+  // cout << "v:\n";
+  for (auto &s: ver) {
+    if (s.st.y > s.nd.y) swap(s.st, s.nd);
+    // cout << s.st.x << " " << s.st.y << ", " << s.nd.x << " " <<  s.nd.y << "\n";
+
+    events.push_back(event(s.st.x, VER_T, s.st.y, s.nd.y));
+  }
+
+  sort(events.begin(), events.end());
+  for (auto e: events) {
+    // cout << e.x << " " << (e.t == HOR_T ? "hor " : "ver ") << e.y << " " << (e.t == HOR_T ? (e.z == BEG ? "beg" : "end") : to_string(e.z)) << "\n";
+    if (e.t == HOR_T) {
+      if (e.z == BEG) points[e.y]++;
+      else {
+        if (--points[e.y] == 0) points.erase(e.y);
+      }
+    }
+    else {
+      auto it = points.lower_bound(e.y);
+      while (it != points.end() && it->first <= e.z) {
+        result.push_back(pnt(e.x, it->first));
+        it++;
+      }
+    }
+  }
+  // cout << "done\n";
+}
+
+vector<pnt> temp;
+vector<seg> hor, ver, cross_left, cross_right; 
+
+void read() {
+  int n;
+  // cin >> n;
+  scanf("%d", &n);
+  for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+    int x1, y1, x2, y2;
+    // cin >> x1 >> y1 >> x2 >> y2;
+    scanf("%d%d%d%d", &x1, &y1, &x2, &y2);
+    seg s = seg(pnt(x1, y1), pnt(x2, y2));
+    if (y1 == y2)                      
+      hor.push_back(s);
+    else if (x1 == x2)                      
+      ver.push_back(s);
+    else if (sig(x1 - x2) == sig(y1 - y2))  
+      cross_right.push_back(s);
+    else
+      cross_left.push_back(s);      
+  }
+}
+
+void hor_ver(vector<pnt> &result) {
+  // cout << "hor_ver\n";
+
+  temp.clear();
+  get_cross_pnts(temp, hor, ver);
+  for (auto p: temp) result.push_back(p);
+}
+
+void hor_c_r(vector<pnt> &result) {
+  // cout << "hor_cr\n";
+  temp.clear();
+  for (auto &p: hor)          p.transpoze(1, -1, 0, 1);
+  for (auto &p: cross_right)  p.transpoze(1, -1, 0, 1); 
+  get_cross_pnts(temp, hor, cross_right);
+  for (auto &p: hor)          p.transpoze(1, 1, 0, 1);
+  for (auto &p: cross_right)  p.transpoze(1, 1, 0, 1);
+
+  for (auto &p: temp) {
+    p.transpoze(1, 1, 0, 1);
+    result.push_back(p);
+  }
+}
+
+void hor_c_l(vector<pnt> &result) {
+  // cout << "hor_cl\n";
+  temp.clear();
+  for (auto &p: hor)        p.transpoze(1, 1, 0, 1);
+  for (auto &p: cross_left) p.transpoze(1, 1, 0, 1);
+
+  get_cross_pnts(temp, hor, cross_left);
+ 
+  for (auto &p: hor)        p.transpoze(1, -1, 0, 1);
+  for (auto &p: cross_left) p.transpoze(1, -1, 0, 1);
+ 
+  for (auto &p: temp) {
+    p.transpoze(1, -1, 0, 1);
+    result.push_back(p);
+  }
+}
+
+void ver_c_r(vector<pnt> &result) {
+  // cout << "ver_cr\n";
+
+  temp.clear();
+  for (auto &p: ver) {
+    p.transpoze(1, 0, -1, 1);
+  }
+  for (auto &p: cross_right) {
+    p.transpoze(1, 0, -1, 1);
+  }
+ 
+  get_cross_pnts(temp, cross_right, ver);
+ 
+  for (auto &p: ver) {
+    p.transpoze(1, 0, 1, 1);
+  }
+  for (auto &p: cross_right) {
+    p.transpoze(1, 0, 1, 1);
+  }
+ 
+  for (auto &p: temp) {
+    p.transpoze(1, 0, 1, 1);
+    result.push_back(p);
+  }
+}
+
+void ver_c_l(vector<pnt> &result) {
+  // cout << "ver_cl\n";
+
+  temp.clear();
+  for (auto &p: ver) {
+    p.transpoze(-1, 0, 1, 1);
+  }
+  for (auto &p: cross_left) {
+    p.transpoze(-1, 0, 1, 1);
+  }
+ 
+  get_cross_pnts(temp, cross_left, ver);
+  for (auto &p: ver) {
+    p.transpoze(-1, 0, 1, 1);
+  }
+  for (auto &p: cross_left) {
+    p.transpoze(-1, 0, 1, 1);
+  }
+ 
+  for (auto &p: temp) {
+    p.transpoze(-1, 0, 1, 1);
+    result.push_back(p);
+  }
+}
+
+void c_l_c_r(vector<pnt> &result) {
+  temp.clear();
+  // cout << "cl_cr\n";
+  for (auto &p: cross_right) {
+    // cout << p.st.x << " " << p.st.y << ", " << p.nd.x << " " <<  p.nd.y << "\n";
+    p.transpoze(1, 1, -1, 1);
+  }
+  // cout << "---\n";
+  for (auto &p: cross_left) {
+    // cout << p.st.x << " " << p.st.y << ", " << p.nd.x << " " <<  p.nd.y << "\n";
+    p.transpoze(1, 1, -1, 1);
+  }
+ 
+  get_cross_pnts(temp, cross_right, cross_left);
+ 
+  for (auto &p: ver) {
+    p.transpoze(1, -1, 1, 1);
+  }
+  for (auto &p: cross_left) {
+    p.transpoze(1, -1, 1, 1);
+  }
+ 
+  for (auto &p: temp) {
+    p.transpoze(1, -1, 1, 1);
+    result.push_back(p);
+  }
+}
+
+void solve() {
+  // cout << hor.size() << " " << ver.size() << " " << cross_left.size() << " " << cross_right.size() << "\n";
+  vector<pnt> result;
+  hor_ver(result);
+  hor_c_r(result);
+  hor_c_l(result);
+  ver_c_r(result);
+  ver_c_l(result);
+  for (auto &p: result) {
+    p.x *= 2;
+    p.y *= 2;
+  }
+  c_l_c_r(result);
+
+  sort(result.begin(), result.end(), [&](const pnt &p1, const pnt &p2) {
+    if (p1.x == p2.x) return p1.y < p2.y;
+    return p1.x < p2.x;
+  });
+  result.erase(unique(result.begin(), result.end()), result.end());
+
+  printf("%d\n", result.size());
+  for (auto p : result) {
+    printf("%d.%s ", p.x/2, (p.x % 2 == 1 ? "5" : "0"));
+    printf("%d.%s\n", p.y/2, (p.y % 2 == 1 ? "5" : "0"));
+    // cout << p.x/2 << "." << (p.x % 2 == 1 ? "5" : "0") << " ";
+    // cout << p.y/2 << "." << (p.y % 2 == 1 ? "5" : "0") << "\n";
+  }
+}
+
+int main() { 
+  // ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);
+  // cin.tie();
+  read();
+  solve();
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia5/wzo2.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia5/wzo2.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b4e9ac3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia5/wzo2.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,184 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+
+/* 
+[0 -1]
+[1  0]
+*/
+
+struct pnt {
+  int x, y;
+  pnt (int _x=0, int _y=0) : x(_x), y(_y) {}
+  void transpose(int a11, int a12, int a21, int a22) {
+    int temp = x*a11 + y*a12;
+    y = x*a21 + y*a22;
+    x = temp;
+  }
+  bool operator<(const pnt &p) const {
+    if (p.x == x) return y < p.y;
+    return x < p.x;
+  }
+  bool operator==(const pnt &p) const {
+    return (x == p.x && y == p.y);
+  }
+};
+
+struct seg {
+  pnt st, nd;
+  seg(pnt p1=pnt(), pnt p2=pnt()) : st(p1), nd(p2) {}
+  void transpose(int a11, int a12, int a21, int a22) {
+    st.transpose(a11, a12, a21, a22);
+    nd.transpose(a11, a12, a21, a22);
+  }
+};
+
+#define HOR_T 0
+#define VER_T 1
+#define CL_T 2
+#define CR_T 3
+#define BEG 0
+#define END 1
+
+struct event {
+  int x;
+  int t;
+  int i1, i2;
+
+  event(int _x, int _t, int _i1, int _i2) : x(_x), t(_t), i1(_i1), i2(_i2) {}
+
+  bool operator < (const event &e) const {
+    if (x == e.x) {
+      if (t == e.t) return make_pair(i1, i2) < make_pair(e.i1, e.i2);
+      if (t == HOR_T) return (e.i2 == END);
+      if (e.t == HOR_T) return (i2 == BEG);
+      return t < e.t;
+    }
+    return x < e.x;
+  }
+};
+
+inline void swap(pnt &p1, pnt &p2) {
+  swap(p1.x, p2.x);
+  swap(p1.y, p2.y);
+}
+
+vector<seg> segments;
+vector<pnt> result; 
+vector<pnt> temp_res;
+vector<event> events;
+map<int, int> hor;
+map<int, int> cl;
+map<int, int> cr;
+
+void read() {
+  int n;
+  scanf("%d", &n);
+  segments.resize(n);
+  for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+    cin >> segments[i].st.x >> segments[i].st.y >> segments[i].nd.x >> segments[i].nd.y;
+  }
+} 
+
+void rotate(int a11, int a12, int a21, int a22) {
+  for (auto s: segments) {
+    s.transpose(a11, a12, a21, a22);
+  }
+}
+
+void solve_prob() {
+  temp_res.clear();
+  events.clear();
+  hor.clear(); cl.clear(); cr.clear();
+
+  for (auto s: segments) {
+    if (s.st.x > s.nd.x) swap(s.st, s.nd);
+    if (s.st.x == s.nd.x) {
+      if (s.st.y > s.nd.y) swap(s.st, s.nd);
+      events.push_back(event(s.st.x, VER_T, s.st.y, s.nd.y));
+    }
+    else if (s.st.y == s.nd.y) {
+      events.push_back(event(s.st.x, HOR_T, s.st.y, BEG));
+      events.push_back(event(s.nd.x, HOR_T, s.st.y, END));
+    }
+    else if (s.st.y - s.nd.y < 0) {
+      events.push_back(event(s.st.x, CR_T, s.st.y, BEG));  
+      events.push_back(event(s.nd.x, CR_T, s.nd.y, END));  
+    }
+    else {
+      events.push_back(event(s.st.x, CL_T, s.st.y, BEG));  
+      events.push_back(event(s.nd.x, CL_T, s.nd.y, END));  
+    }
+  }
+
+  sort(events.begin(), events.end());
+  for (auto e: events) {
+    if (e.t == VER_T) {
+      auto it = hor.lower_bound(e.i1);
+      while (it != hor.end() && it->first <= e.i2) {
+        temp_res.push_back({e.x, it->first});
+        it++;
+      }
+      it = cr.lower_bound(e.i1 - e.x);
+      while (it != cr.end() && it->first <= e.i2 - e.x) {
+        temp_res.push_back({e.x, it->first + e.x});
+        it++;
+      }
+      it = cl.lower_bound(e.i1 + e.x);
+      while (it != cl.end() && it->first <= e.i2 + e.x) {
+        temp_res.push_back({e.x, it->first - e.x});
+        it++;
+      }
+    } 
+    if (e.t == CR_T) {
+      if (e.i2 == BEG) cr[e.i1 - e.x]++;
+      else if (--cr[e.i1 - e.x] <= 0) cr.erase(e.i1 - e.x);
+    }
+    if (e.t == CL_T) {
+      if (e.i2 == BEG) cl[e.i1 + e.x]++;
+      else if (--cl[e.i1 + e.x] <= 0) cl.erase(e.i1);
+    }
+    if (e.t == HOR_T) {
+      if (e.i2 == BEG) hor[e.i1]++;
+      else if (--hor[e.i1] <= 0) hor.erase(e.i1);
+    }
+  }
+}
+
+void add_to_res(int a11, int a12, int a21, int a22) {
+  for (auto p: temp_res) {
+    p.transpose(a11, a12, a21, a22);
+    result.push_back(p);
+  }
+}
+
+void solve() {
+  solve_prob();
+  for (auto &p: temp_res) {
+    p.x *= 2; p.y *= 2;
+  }
+  add_to_res(1, 0, 0, 1);
+  for (auto &p: temp_res) {
+    p.x /= 2; p.y /= 2;
+  }
+  rotate(1, -1, 1, 1);
+  solve_prob();
+  add_to_res(1, 1, -1, 1);
+  rotate(1, 1, -1, 1);
+  for (auto &p: temp_res) {
+    p.x /= 2; p.y /= 2;
+  } 
+
+  
+
+  sort(result.begin(), result.end());
+  result.erase(unique(result.begin(), result.end()), result.end());
+  for (auto p : result) {
+    cout << p.x/2 << "." << (p.x % 2 == 1 ? "5" : "0") << " ";
+    cout << p.y/2 << "." << (p.y % 2 == 1 ? "5" : "0") << "\n";
+  }
+}
+
+int main() {
+  read();
+  solve();
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia6/wzo.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia6/wzo.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f13f0ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/pracownia6/wzo.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,51 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+
+const int N = 1e6 + 10;
+bool vis[N];
+int n, m, ranga[N], par[N];
+pair<int, pair<int, int>> G[N];
+
+int Find(int v) {
+  if (par[v] == v) return v;
+  return par[v] = Find(par[v]);
+}
+
+void Union(int v, int u) {
+  if (ranga[v] > ranga[u]) {
+    par[u] = v;
+  }
+  else {
+    if (ranga[v] == ranga[u]) ranga[u]++;
+    par[v] = u;
+  }
+}
+
+bool traj(int maks) {
+
+}
+
+int main() {
+  scanf("%d%d", &n, &m);  
+  for (int i = 0; i < m; i++) {
+    int a, b, w;
+    scanf("%d%d%d", &a, &b, &w);
+    G[i] = {-w, {a,b}};
+  }
+  sort(G, G+m);
+  for (int i = 1; i <= n; i++) {
+    par[i] = i;
+    ranga[i] = 0;
+  }
+  int mini = 1e9;
+  for (int i = 0; i < m; i++) {
+    int a = G[i].second.first;
+    int b = G[i].second.second;
+    a = Find(a); b = Find(b);
+    if (a != b) {
+      Union(a, b);
+      mini = min(mini, -G[i].first);
+    }
+  }
+  printf("%d\n", mini);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/themis/AISDDEBIUT21.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/themis/AISDDEBIUT21.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3666d69
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/themis/AISDDEBIUT21.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,24 @@
+/*

+ *  Autor: Franciszek Malinka

+ *  Numer indeksu: 316093

+ *  Prowadzący: WJA

+ */

+

+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+using namespace std;

+

+int main()

+{

+  ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);

+  cin.tie();

+  int a, b;

+  cin >> a >> b;

+  for (int i = a; i <= b; i++)

+  {

+    if (i % 2021 == 0)

+    {

+      cout << i << " ";

+    }

+  }

+  cout << "\n";

+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/themis/AISDPOTEGOWANIE.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/themis/AISDPOTEGOWANIE.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c1b76fe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/themis/AISDPOTEGOWANIE.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,29 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+using namespace std;

+

+int fast_pow(int a, int b, int m)

+{

+  if (b == 0)

+  {

+    return 1;

+  }

+  long long p = fast_pow(a, b / 2, m);

+  p = (p * p) % m;

+  if (b % 2 == 0)

+    return (int)p;

+  return (p * (long long)a) % m;

+}

+

+int main()

+{

+  ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);

+  cin.tie();

+  int t;

+  cin >> t;

+  while (t--)

+  {

+    int a, b, m;

+    cin >> a >> b >> m;

+    cout << fast_pow(a, b, m) << "\n";

+  }

+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/themis/BELLMAN.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/themis/BELLMAN.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5a65096
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/themis/BELLMAN.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,55 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+using namespace std;

+

+const int N = 503;

+int dist[N];

+vector<pair<int, pair<int, int>>> edges;

+int main()

+{

+  ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);

+  cin.tie();

+  int n, m, s;

+  cin >> n >> m >> s;

+  for (int i = 0; i <= n; i++)

+  {

+    dist[i] = 2e9;

+  }

+  dist[s] = 0;

+  for (int i = 0; i < m; i++)

+  {

+    int u, v, w;

+    cin >> u >> v >> w;

+    edges.push_back({w, {u, v}});

+    // edges.push_back({w, {v, u}});

+  }

+

+  for (int i = 0; i < n + 1; i++)

+  {

+    for (auto e : edges)

+    {

+      int w = e.first;

+      int u = e.second.first;

+      int v = e.second.second;

+      if (dist[v] > dist[u] + w)

+      {

+        dist[v] = dist[u] + w;

+      }

+    }

+  }

+  for (auto e : edges)

+  {

+    int w = e.first;

+    int u = e.second.first;

+    int v = e.second.second;

+    if (dist[v] > dist[u] + w)

+    {

+      cout << "NIE\n";

+      return 0;

+    }

+  }

+  for (int i = 0; i < n; i++)

+  {

+    if (i != s && dist[i] < 1e9)

+      cout << i << " " << dist[i] << "\n";

+  }

+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/themis/FIB.cpp b/semestr-4/aisd/themis/FIB.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dd38c5c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/themis/FIB.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,58 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+using namespace std;

+typedef long long ll;

+

+class matrix

+{

+public:

+  ll a, b, c, d;

+  static ll m;

+

+  matrix(ll _a = 0, ll _b = 0, ll _c = 0, ll _d = 0) : a(_a), b(_b), c(_c), d(_d) {}

+

+  matrix operator*(const matrix &M) const

+  {

+    matrix res;

+    res.a = (a * M.a + b * M.c) % m;

+    res.b = (a * M.b + b * M.d) % m;

+    res.c = (c * M.a + d * M.c) % m;

+    res.d = (c * M.b + d * M.d) % m;

+    return res;

+  }

+};

+

+ll matrix::m = 1;

+

+matrix fast_pow(matrix M, int w)

+{

+  matrix res(1, 0, 0, 1);

+  while (w)

+  {

+    if (w % 2 == 1)

+      res = res * M;

+    M = M * M;

+    w >>= 1;

+  }

+  return res;

+}

+

+void solve()

+{

+  int n, m;

+  cin >> n >> m;

+  matrix M(0, 1, 1, 1);

+  matrix::m = m;

+  cout << fast_pow(M, n + 1).a << "\n";

+}

+

+int main()

+{

+  ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);

+  cin.tie();

+  int t;

+  cin >> t;

+  while (t--)

+  {

+    solve();

+  }

+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 1 - Preliminaria.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 1 - Preliminaria.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dc4ee1c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 1 - Preliminaria.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 2 - Kopiec.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 2 - Kopiec.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c8e76a7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 2 - Kopiec.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 3 - Zachłany.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 3 - Zachłany.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5403789
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 3 - Zachłany.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 4 - divide and conquer.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 4 - divide and conquer.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..205b505
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 4 - divide and conquer.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 5 - divide and conquer cd.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 5 - divide and conquer cd.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..48fc8e4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 5 - divide and conquer cd.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 6 - Programowanie Dynamiczne.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 6 - Programowanie Dynamiczne.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d8b61ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 6 - Programowanie Dynamiczne.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 7 - Programowanie Dynamiczne cd.pdf b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 7 - Programowanie Dynamiczne cd.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7040119
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/aisd/wyklady/Notatka 7 - Programowanie Dynamiczne cd.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista0/Lista 0.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/lista0/Lista 0.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bffa5cb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista0/Lista 0.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista0/ask21_lista_0.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/lista0/ask21_lista_0.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cc9b182
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista0/ask21_lista_0.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista0/rozw.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista0/rozw.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c71940a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista0/rozw.c
@@ -0,0 +1,78 @@
+#include <stdio.h>

+#include <stdint.h>

+

+

+int main() {

+  /* Zad. 3 */ 

+

+  uint32_t x, k;

+  scanf("%d%d", &x, &k);

+

+  x &= ~(1<<k);     // zerowanie k-tego bitu

+  x |= (1<<k);      // ustawianie k-tego bitu

+  x ^= (1<<k);      // swap k-tego bitu

+

+  printf("%d\n", x);

+

+  /* Zad. 4 */

+

+  uint32_t y;

+  scanf("%d%d", &x, &y);

+

+  x <<= y;                    // x * 2^y

+  x >>= y;                    // floor(x / 2^y)

+  x &= (1<<y) - 1;             // x mod 2^y

+  x = (x + (1<<y) - 1) >> y;  // ceil(x/2^y) = floor((x + 2^y - 1)/2^y)

+  

+  /* Zad. 5 */

+

+  scanf("%d", &x);

+  /* jesli x = 2^k, to x = 1000...0. Wtedy x - 1 = 0111...1, zatem x & (x - 1) == 0

+   * gdy x jest potęgą dwójki. Łatwo widać, że jeśli x nie jest potęgą dwójki, 

+   * to wiodący bit będzie ten sam, więc koniunkcja bitowa będzie niezerowa */

+  printf("%d", (x & (x - 1)));  

+

+  /* Zad. 6 */

+  

+  int rev = ((0xff000000 & x) >> 24u) |   // można pominąć tę koniunkcję.

+            ((0xff0000 & x) >> 8u) | 

+            ((0xff00 & x) << 8u) | 

+            ((0xff & x) << 24u); 

+

+  /* Zad. 7 */

+

+  /* Kod sterujący - kod, który nie niesie informacji o znaku, ale niesie jakąś 

+   * instrukcję sterującą dla urządzenia, np. do terminala.

+   * ASCII (American Standard Code for Information Interchange) - zestaw znaków,

+   * który stał się standardem w komunikacji elektronicznej.

+   * 0, NUL - znak nie niosący żadnej informacji. Może informować np. o końcu danych tekstowych

+   * 4, EOT (end of thread/end of transmission), ^D - informuje o końcu transmisji danych,

+   * które mogły zawierać więcej niż jeden tekst.

+   * 7, BEL (bell), ^G - instruuje urządzenie do wysłania dźwięku.

+   * 10, LF (line feed), \n - instruuje urządzenie do przejścia do nowej linii, 

+   * ale nie do jej początku. Z tego względu jest często wiązany z CR (carriage return), 

+   * który instruuje urządzenie do powrotu do początku wiersza. W systemach UNIX sam \n

+   * wystarczy.

+   * 12, FF (Form feed) - instruuje np. drukarki do przejścia do pierwszego wiersza 

+   * następnej kartkii.

+   */

+

+  /* Zad. 8 */

+

+  /* UTF-8 (8-bit Unicode Transformation Format) - alternatywny zestaw znaków, 

+   * w pełni kompatybilny z ASCII. Wykorzystuje od 1 do 4 bajtów do zakodowania 

+   * pojedyńczego znaku. ASCII ma do dyspozycji jedynie 128 możliwych znaków, co 

+   * zdecydowanie jest mniejsze niż potrzebna liczba znaków do zakodowania. 

+   * Wykorzystanie 4 bajtów pozwala na gwałtowne zwiększenie tej liczby.

+   * 

+   * Proszę zapłacić 5€! ę - U+0119 (0000 0001 0001 1001), spacja - U+0020,

+   * ł - U+0142 (0000 0001 0100 0010), € - U+20AC (0010 0000 1010 1100)

+   * 01010000 01110010 01101111 01110011 01111010 [1100 0100 1001 1001] 

+   * 00100000 

+   * 01111010 01010001 01110000 [1100 0101 1000 0010] 01010001 01010011 01011001 [1100 0100 1000 0111]

+   * 00100000

+   * 00110101 [1110 0010 1000 0010 1010 1100] 00100001

+   */ 

+

+  return 0;

+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista1/ask21_lista_1.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/lista1/ask21_lista_1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9afcd65
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista1/ask21_lista_1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista1/rozw.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista1/rozw.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b4c208
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista1/rozw.c
@@ -0,0 +1,217 @@
+#include <stdint.h>

+#include <stdio.h>

+

+

+static const int S[] = {1, 2, 4, 8, 16}; // Magic Binary Numbers

+static const int B[] = {0x55555555, 0x33333333, 0x0F0F0F0F, 0x00FF00FF, 0x0000FFFF};

+

+char* utb(uint32_t x) {

+  static char rep[36];

+  int cnt = 34;

+  for (int i = 0; i < 32; i += 1) {

+    if (i > 0 && i % 8 == 0) {

+      rep[cnt] = ' ';

+      cnt -= 1;

+    }

+    rep[cnt] = (x & 1) + '0';

+    cnt -= 1;

+    x >>= 1;

+  }

+  rep[35] = '\0';

+  return rep;

+}

+

+void pb(uint32_t x) {

+  printf("%s    : %d\n", utb(x), x);

+}

+

+struct A {

+  int8_t a;

+  void *b;

+  int8_t c;

+  int16_t d;

+};

+

+struct B {

+  void *c;

+  double b;

+  int16_t a;

+};

+

+struct C {

+  int8_t a;

+  int8_t c;

+  int16_t d;

+  void *b;

+};

+

+// zaklada count > 0

+void secret(uint8_t *to, uint8_t *from, size_t count) {

+  size_t n = (count + 7) / 8;

+  switch (count % 8) {

+    case 0: do {  *to++ = *from++;

+    case 7:       *to++ = *from++;

+    case 6:       *to++ = *from++;

+    case 5:       *to++ = *from++;

+    case 4:       *to++ = *from++;

+    case 3:       *to++ = *from++;

+    case 2:       *to++ = *from++;

+    case 1:       *to++ = *from++;

+               } while (--n > 0);

+  }

+}

+

+// zaklada count > 0

+void goto_secret(uint8_t *to, uint8_t *from, size_t count) {

+  size_t n = (count + 7) / 8;

+  static void *array[] = { &&finito, &&c0, &&c1, &&c2, &&c3, &&c4, &&c5, &&c6, &&c7 };

+  goto *array[count % 8 + 1];

+  c0: *to++ = *from++;

+  c7: *to++ = *from++;

+  c6: *to++ = *from++;

+  c5: *to++ = *from++;

+  c4: *to++ = *from++;

+  c3: *to++ = *from++;

+  c2: *to++ = *from++;

+  c1: *to++ = *from++;

+  goto *array[(--n > 0)];

+  finito: return;

+}

+

+int main() {

+  /* Zadanie 1 */

+  printf("Zadanie 1:\n");

+

+  uint32_t i = 7, k = 15, x = 15689126;

+

+  pb(x);

+  uint32_t c = (((1<<i) & x) >> i) << k;        // 0010 0000

+  x = (x & ~(1<<k)) | c;

+  pb(x);

+

+

+  /* Zadanie 2 */

+  printf("Zadanie 2:\n");

+

+  uint32_t v = 312866134;

+  pb(v);

+

+  // wersja prosta

+  c = v - ((v >> 1) & B[0]);              pb(c);

+  c = ((c >> S[1]) & B[1]) + (c & B[1]);  pb(c);

+  c = ((c >> S[2]) + c) & B[2];           pb(c);

+  c = ((c >> S[3]) + c) & B[3];           pb(c);

+  c = ((c >> S[4]) + c) & B[4];           pb(c);

+  printf("-----------------\n");

+  // wersja dla koksow

+  v = v - ((v >> 1) & 0x55555555);                    pb(v);// reuse input as temporary

+  v = ((v >> 2) & 0x33333333) + (v & 0x33333333);     pb(v); // temp

+  c = ((v + (v >> 4) & 0xF0F0F0F) * 0x1010101) >> 24; pb(c); // count

+  

+

+  /* Zadanie 3 */

+  printf("Zadanie 3:\n");

+  

+  struct A a;

+  struct B b;

+  struct C d;

+  int8_t x1;

+  void *x2;

+  int16_t x3;

+  printf("%lu %lu %lu\n", sizeof x1, sizeof x2, sizeof x3);

+  printf("%lu %lu %lu\n", sizeof a, sizeof b, sizeof d);

+

+

+  /* Zadanie 4 */

+

+

+  /* Zadanie 5 */

+

+  /* s += b[j + 1] + b[--j];

+   * 

+   * t1 := j + 1

+   * t2 := t1 * 4

+   * t3 := b[t2]

+   * j := j - 1

+   * t4 := j * 4

+   * t5 := b[t4]

+   * t6 := t4 + t5   // Czy na pewno tak?

+   * s := s + t6

+   * 

+   * a[i++] -= *b * (c[j*2] + 1);

+   * 

+   * t1 := *b

+   * t2 := j * 2

+   * t3 := t2 * 4

+   * t4 := c[t3]

+   * t5 := t4 + 1

+   * t6 := t1 * t5

+   * a := a - t6

+   * i := i + 1

+   */

+

+  /* Zadanie 6 */

+  /* vs->d = us[1].a + us[j].c;

+   * t1 := 1 * 12

+   * t2 := us + t1

+   * t2' := us + 0     // chcemy dostać się do a, ale jest na poczatku, wiec nic dodawac nie trzeba

+   * t3 := *t2

+   * t4 := j * 12

+   * t5 := us + t4

+   * t6 := t5 + 8

+   * t7 := *t6

+   * t8 := t3 + t7

+   * t9 := vs + 9

+   * *t9 := t8

+   */

+

+  /* Zadanie 7 */

+ 

+   /*       I := 0                      ; <<B1>>

+            goto ITest        

+    ILoop:  J := I                      ; <<B2>>

+            goto WTest

+    WLoop:  t1 := 4 * J                 ; <<B3>>

+            Temp := arr[t1]             ; arr[J]

+            t2 := J - 1        

+            t3 := 4 * t2

+            t4 := arr[t3]               ; arr[J - 1]

+            arr[t1] := t4               ; arr[J] := arr[J - 1]

+            arr[t3] := Temp             ; arr[J - 1] := Temp

+            J := J - 1

+    WTest:  if J <= 0 goto IPlus        ; <<B4>>

+            t4 := 4 * J                 ; <<B5>>

+            t5 := arr[t4]

+            t6 := J - 1

+            t7 = 4 * t6

+            t8 := arr[t7]

+            if t5 >= t8 goto IPlus

+            goto WLoop                  ; <<B6>>

+    IPlus:  I := I + 1                  ; <<B7>>

+    ITest:  if I < length goto ILoop    ; <<B8>>

+   */ 

+

+

+  /* Zadanie 8 */

+  printf("Zadanie 8:\n");

+  

+  // secret kopiuje wartości na które wskazuje from do miejsca w które wskazuje to,

+  // przesuwa oba wskaźniki i powtarza tak count razy (czyli efektywnie kopiuje np. tablice)

+

+  uint8_t t1[10] = {1,2,3,0,5,100,7,8,9,10}, t2[10];

+  uint8_t* to = t2 + 2, *from = t1 + 3;

+  size_t count = 4;

+

+  goto_secret(to, from, count);

+  

+  for (int i = 0; i < 10; i++)

+    printf("%hhd ", t1[i]);

+  printf("\n");

+  for (int i = 0; i < 10; i++)

+    printf("%hhd ", t2[i]);

+  printf("\n");

+

+  i = 3;

+  t1[i++] = i;

+  printf("%hhd\n", t1[i-1]);

+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista1/test.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista1/test.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0f3c11e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista1/test.c
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+#include <stdint.h>

+#include <stdio.h>

+

+int main()

+{

+  int x;

+  short y;

+  x = -10;

+  y = (short)x;

+  printf("%d %hd", x, y);

+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista1/zad7.txt b/semestr-4/ask/lista1/zad7.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1e9c4b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista1/zad7.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,21 @@
+        I := 0

+        goto ITest

+ILoop:  J := I

+        goto WTest

+WLoop:  t1 := 4 * J

+        Temp := arr[t1]

+        t2 := J - 1        

+        t3 := 4 * t2

+        arr[t1] := arr[t3]

+        arr[t3] := Temp

+        J := J - 1

+WTest:  if J <= 0 goto IPlus

+        t4 := 4 * J

+        t5 := arr[t4]

+        t6 := J - 1

+        t7 = 4 * t6

+        t8 := arr[t7]

+        if t5 >= t8 goto IPlus

+        goto WLoop 

+IPlus:  I := I + 1

+ITest:  if I < length goto ILoop
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista11/__pycache__/gen.cpython-38.pyc b/semestr-4/ask/lista11/__pycache__/gen.cpython-38.pyc
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e27b7a7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista11/__pycache__/gen.cpython-38.pyc
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista11/gen.py b/semestr-4/ask/lista11/gen.py
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d4de762
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista11/gen.py
@@ -0,0 +1,65 @@
+def next_permutation(a):
+  """Generate the lexicographically next permutation inplace.
+
+  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Permutation#Generation_in_lexicographic_order
+  Return false if there is no next permutation.
+  """
+  # Find the largest index i such that a[i] < a[i + 1]. If no such
+  # index exists, the permutation is the last permutation
+  for i in reversed(range(len(a) - 1)):
+      if a[i] < a[i + 1]:
+          break  # found
+  else:  # no break: not found
+      return False  # no next permutation
+
+  # Find the largest index j greater than i such that a[i] < a[j]
+  j = next(j for j in reversed(range(i + 1, len(a))) if a[i] < a[j])
+
+  # Swap the value of a[i] with that of a[j]
+  a[i], a[j] = a[j], a[i]
+
+  # Reverse sequence from a[i + 1] up to and including the final element a[n]
+  a[i + 1:] = reversed(a[i + 1:])
+  return True
+
+def perm_to_str(a):
+  return ''.join(map(str, a))
+
+def str_to_perm(s):
+  return [int(c) for c in s]
+
+t = [0,1,2,3]
+perm_to_idx = dict()
+
+def bbin(x):
+  return bin(x)[2:]
+
+cnt = 23
+while True:
+  perm_to_idx[perm_to_str(t)] = cnt
+  cnt -= 1
+  if not next_permutation(t):
+    break
+
+for p in perm_to_idx.keys():
+  for i in range(4):
+    t = str_to_perm(p)
+    for j in range(4):
+      if t[j] > t[i]:
+        t[j] -= 1
+    t[i] = 3
+    print(p, 'x', i, '->', perm_to_str(t), ':\t', bbin(perm_to_idx[p]), '\t', bbin(i), '\t', bbin(perm_to_idx[perm_to_str(t)]), end='\t')
+    print(perm_to_idx[p], '\t', i, '\t', perm_to_idx[perm_to_str(t)])
+
+print('\n-----\n')
+
+
+for p in perm_to_idx.keys():
+  for i in range(4):
+    t = str_to_perm(p)
+    for j in range(4):
+      if t[j] > t[i]:
+        t[j] -= 1
+    t[i] = 3
+    print(p, 'x', i, '->', perm_to_str(t), ':\t', bbin(perm_to_idx[p]), '\t', bbin(i), '\t', bbin(perm_to_idx[perm_to_str(t)]), end='\t')
+    print(perm_to_idx[p], '\t', i, '\t', perm_to_idx[perm_to_str(t)])
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista11/zad8.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista11/zad8.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cd8c2bf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista11/zad8.c
@@ -0,0 +1,23 @@
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+
+uint8_t victim(uint8_t s) {
+  s |= ((s & 0x55) << 1) | (s & 0xaa >> 1);
+  return ((s >> 2) && 1) | ((s >> 4) && 2) | ((s >> 6) && 3);
+}
+
+uint8_t update(uint8_t s, uint8_t v) {
+  int8_t p0 = victim(s);
+  int8_t p1 = victim(s ^ 0b01010101);
+  int8_t p2 = victim(s ^ 0b10101010);
+  int8_t p3 = victim(s ^ 0b11111111);
+  uint8_t age = (3 << (v << 1)) & s;
+
+  s -= (~((char)(age - 1) >> 7)) & (1 << (p1 << 1));
+  s -= (~((char)(age - 2) >> 7)) & (1 << (p2 << 1));
+  s -= (~((char)(age - 3) >> 7)) & (1 << (p3 << 1));
+  s |= (3 << (v << 1));
+  return s;
+}
+
+int main() {}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista12/rozw.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista12/rozw.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..84d66c6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista12/rozw.c
@@ -0,0 +1,71 @@
+#include <stdio.h>
+
+/* Zadanie 1 */
+ 
+void swap(long *xp, long *yp) {
+  *xp = *xp + *yp; /* x+y */
+  *yp = *xp - *yp; /* x+y-y = x */
+  *xp = *xp - *yp; /* x+y-x = y */
+}
+
+void swap2(long *xp, long *yp) {
+  long x = *xp, y = *yp;
+  x = x + y, y = x - y, x = x - y;
+  *xp = x, *yp = y;
+}
+
+/* Zadanie 2 */
+
+__attribute__((noinline))
+size_t my_strlen(const char *s) {
+  size_t i = 0;
+  while (*s++)
+  i++;
+  return i;
+}
+
+const char *my_index(const char *s, char v) {
+  for (size_t i = 0; i < my_strlen(s); i++)
+    if (s[i] == v)
+      return &s[i];
+  return 0;
+}
+
+/* Zadanie 3 */
+void foobar(long a[], size_t n, long y, long z) {
+  for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+    long x = y - z;
+    long j = 7 * i;
+    a[i] = j + x * x; 
+  }
+}
+
+void foobar_decomp(long a[], size_t n, long y, long z) {
+  z -= y;
+  z *= z;
+  for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+    a[i] = z;
+    z += 7;
+  }
+}
+
+/* Zadanie 4 */
+
+long neigh(long a[], long n, long i, long j) {
+  long ul = a[(i-1)*n + (j-1)];
+  long ur = a[(i-1)*n + (j+1)];
+  long dl = a[(i+1)*n - (j-1)];
+  long dr = a[(i+1)*n - (j+1)];
+  return ul + ur + dl + dr;
+}
+
+long neigh_better(long a[], long n, long i, long j) {
+  long idx = (i-1) * n + (j-1);
+  // n *= 2;
+  long ul = a[idx];
+  long dl = a[idx + n*2];
+  idx += 2;
+  long ur = a[idx];
+  long dr = a[idx + n*2];
+  return ul + dl + ur + dr;
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista13/186422.cpp b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/186422.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f3df2e1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/186422.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,47 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+using namespace std;

+const int SIZE=101000;

+void imax(int &a, int b){

+	a=max(a, b);

+}

+void imin(int &a, int b){

+	a=min(a, b);

+}

+void lmax(long long &a, long long b){

+	a=max(a, b);

+}

+void lmin(long long &a, long long b){

+	a=min(a, b);

+}

+/*

+	WARNING: I'm using strange bracket style!

+*/

+vector <pair <int, int> > out;

+vector <int> v[SIZE], s;

+int n, q, x, y;

+int main()

+	{

+	ios::sync_with_stdio(0);

+	cin.tie(0);

+	cout.tie(0);

+	cin>>n>>q;

+	while (q--)

+		cin>>x>>y, v[min(x, y)].push_back(max(x, y));

+	v[1].push_back(n);

+	for (int i=1; i<=n; i++)

+		{

+		sort(v[i].begin(), v[i].end());

+		reverse(v[i].begin(), v[i].end());

+		while (!s.empty() && s.back()<=i)

+			s.pop_back();

+		if (!s.empty() && s.back()>i+1)

+			if (v[i].size()==0 || s.back()!=v[i][0])

+				out.push_back({s.back(), i});

+		for (auto j: v[i])

+			s.push_back(j);

+		}

+	cout<<out.size()<<"\n";

+	for (auto i: out)

+		cout<<i.first<<" "<<i.second<<"\n";

+	return 0;

+	}

diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13.tgz b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13.tgz
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..98970c9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13.tgz
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/._shakespeare.txt b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/._shakespeare.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bc5ed23
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/._shakespeare.txt
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/dictionary.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/dictionary.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5c9ec55
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/dictionary.c
@@ -0,0 +1,434 @@
+/* Example of Program for Profiling */
+/* Create a dictionary of strings */
+
+#include "options.h"
+#include "string.h"
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <time.h>
+
+#define USESTRLEN 1
+size_t Strlen(const char *s);
+
+/* Some statistics */
+int wcnt = 0;       /* Number of words */
+int ucnt = 0;       /* Number of unique words */
+int mcnt = 0;       /* Count of Most frequent word */
+int scnt = 0;       /* Count of number of singletons */
+char *mstring = ""; /* Most frequent word */
+int llen = 0;       /* Length of the longest word */
+char *lstring = ""; /* A longest string */
+int lcnt = 0;       /* Number of words having maximum length */
+
+/* Use function pointers to keep track of which options we are using */
+typedef void (*lower_fun_t)(char *s);
+
+/* Lower case conversion routines */
+
+/* Convert string to lower case: slow */
+void lower1(char *s) {
+  int i;
+
+  for (i = 0; i < Strlen(s); i++)
+    if (s[i] >= 'A' && s[i] <= 'Z')
+      s[i] -= ('A' - 'a');
+}
+
+/* Convert string to lower case: faster */
+void lower2(char *s) {
+  int i;
+  int len = Strlen(s);
+
+  for (i = 0; i < len; i++)
+    if (s[i] >= 'A' && s[i] <= 'Z')
+      s[i] -= ('A' - 'a');
+}
+
+/* Set of lower case functions */
+#define LCNT 2
+lower_fun_t lower_fun_set[LCNT] = {lower1, lower2};
+char *lower_fun_names[LCNT] = {"lower1", "lower2"};
+
+/* Implementation of library function strlen */
+/* Compute length of string */
+size_t Strlen(const char *s) {
+#ifdef USESTRLEN
+  return strlen(s);
+#else
+  int length = 0;
+  while (*s != '\0') {
+    s++;
+    length++;
+  }
+  return length;
+#endif
+}
+
+/* The hash table */
+
+typedef struct HELE {
+  char *word;
+  int freq;
+  struct HELE *next;
+} h_rec, *h_ptr;
+
+/* The hash table */
+h_ptr *htable;
+int tsize;
+
+static void new_table(int size) {
+  tsize = size;
+  htable = (h_ptr *)calloc(size, sizeof(h_ptr));
+  if (!htable) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Couldn't allocate hash array, exiting\n");
+    exit(1);
+  }
+}
+
+static h_ptr new_ele(char *s) {
+  h_ptr result = (h_ptr)malloc(sizeof(h_rec));
+  int wlen = Strlen(s);
+  if (wlen > llen) {
+    lstring = s;
+    llen = wlen;
+    lcnt = 1;
+  } else if (wlen == llen)
+    lcnt++;
+  if (!result) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Couldn't allocate hash element, exiting\n");
+    exit(1);
+  }
+
+  result->word = s;
+  result->freq = 1;
+  result->next = NULL;
+  return result;
+}
+
+/* Some hash functions */
+
+/* Division hashing */
+
+typedef unsigned (*hash_fun_t)(char *s);
+
+unsigned h_mod(char *s) {
+  unsigned val = 0;
+  int c;
+  while ((c = *s++))
+    val = (val * 128 + c) % tsize;
+  return val;
+}
+
+/* Simply add characters together */
+unsigned h_add(char *s) {
+  unsigned val = 0;
+  int c;
+  while ((c = *s++))
+    val += c;
+  return val % tsize;
+}
+
+/* Combine with Xors */
+unsigned h_xor(char *s) {
+  unsigned val = 0;
+  int c;
+  while ((c = *s++))
+    val = ((val ^ c) << 4) | ((val >> 28) & 0xF);
+  return val % tsize;
+}
+
+#define HCNT 3
+hash_fun_t hash_fun_set[HCNT] = {h_mod, h_add, h_xor};
+char *hash_fun_names[HCNT] = {"h_mod", "h_add", "h_xor"};
+
+char *save_string(char *s) {
+  char *result = (char *)malloc(Strlen(s) + 1);
+  if (!result) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Couldn't allocate space for string, exiting\n");
+    exit(1);
+  }
+  strcpy(result, s);
+  return result;
+}
+
+/* Recursively find string in list.  Add to end if not found */
+h_ptr find_ele_rec(h_ptr ls, char *s) {
+  if (!ls) {
+    /* Come to end of list.  Insert this one */
+    ucnt++;
+    return new_ele(save_string(s));
+  }
+  if (strcmp(s, ls->word) == 0) {
+    ls->freq++;
+    if (ls->freq > mcnt) {
+      mcnt = ls->freq;
+      mstring = ls->word;
+    }
+    return ls;
+  }
+  ls->next = find_ele_rec(ls->next, s);
+  return ls;
+}
+
+/* Iteratively find string in list.  Add to front if not found */
+h_ptr find_ele_iter_f(h_ptr ls, char *s) {
+  h_ptr ele = ls;
+  for (ele = ls; ele; ele = ele->next) {
+    char *word = ele->word;
+    if (strcmp(s, word) == 0) {
+      int freq = ++ele->freq;
+      if (freq > mcnt) {
+        mcnt = freq;
+        mstring = word;
+      }
+      return ls;
+    }
+  }
+  ele = new_ele(save_string(s));
+  ucnt++;
+  ele->next = ls;
+  return ele;
+}
+
+/* Iteratively find string in list.  Add to end if not found */
+h_ptr find_ele_iter_r(h_ptr ls, char *s) {
+  h_ptr ele = ls;
+  h_ptr last = NULL;
+  for (ele = ls; ele; ele = ele->next) {
+    char *word = ele->word;
+    if (strcmp(s, word) == 0) {
+      int freq = ++ele->freq;
+      if (freq > mcnt) {
+        mcnt = freq;
+        mstring = word;
+      }
+      return ls;
+    }
+    last = ele;
+  }
+  ele = new_ele(save_string(s));
+  ucnt++;
+  ele->next = NULL;
+  if (last) {
+    last->next = ele;
+    return ls;
+  } else
+    return ele;
+}
+
+typedef h_ptr (*find_ele_fun_t)(h_ptr, char *);
+
+#define FCNT 3
+find_ele_fun_t find_ele_fun_set[FCNT] = {find_ele_rec, find_ele_iter_f,
+                                         find_ele_iter_r};
+char *find_ele_fun_names[FCNT] = {"find_ele_rec", "find_ele_iter_f",
+                                  "find_ele_iter_r"};
+
+/* Comparision function for sorting */
+int compare_ele(const void *vele1, const void *vele2) {
+  h_ptr ele1 = *(h_ptr *)vele1;
+  h_ptr ele2 = *(h_ptr *)vele2;
+  return ele2->freq - ele1->freq;
+}
+
+/* Sort hash table elements by frequency */
+h_ptr sort_words(int quick) {
+  h_ptr ls = NULL;
+  h_ptr ele;
+  h_ptr *array = calloc(ucnt, sizeof(h_ptr));
+  int i, j;
+  int cnt = 0;
+  scnt = 0; /* Count singletons */
+  for (i = 0; i < tsize; i++)
+    for (ele = htable[i]; ele; ele = ele->next) {
+      if (ele->freq == 1)
+        scnt++;
+      if (quick)
+        array[cnt] = ele;
+      else {
+        for (j = cnt; j > 0 && ele->freq > array[j - 1]->freq; j--)
+          array[j] = array[j - 1];
+        array[j] = ele;
+      }
+      cnt++;
+    }
+  if (quick) {
+    qsort((void *)array, cnt, sizeof(h_ptr), compare_ele);
+  }
+  ls = array[0];
+  for (j = 0; j < cnt - 1; j++)
+    array[j]->next = array[j + 1];
+  array[cnt - 1]->next = NULL;
+  free((void *)array);
+  return ls;
+}
+
+void insert_string(char *s, hash_fun_t hash_fun, lower_fun_t lower_fun,
+                   find_ele_fun_t find_ele_fun) {
+  int index;
+  lower_fun(s);
+  index = hash_fun(s);
+  htable[index] = find_ele_fun(htable[index], s);
+}
+
+/* Extract word from file */
+#define BSIZE 1024
+char buf[BSIZE];
+int bufvalid = 0;
+FILE *infile;
+
+void init_token(FILE *in) {
+  bufvalid = 0;
+  infile = in;
+}
+
+/* Added some non-ASCII characters encountered in European parliament corpus */
+static char *skipchar = " \t\n\r.,:;/<>()[]{}?!\"-'\0xc2\0xa0";
+
+/* Keep getting tokens.  Return NULL when no more */
+char *get_word() {
+  char *s = NULL;
+  while (1) {
+    if (bufvalid) {
+      s = strtok(NULL, skipchar);
+      if (s)
+        break;
+    }
+    if (!fgets(buf, BSIZE, infile))
+      return NULL;
+    bufvalid = 1;
+    s = strtok(buf, skipchar);
+    if (s)
+      break;
+  }
+  wcnt++;
+  return s;
+}
+
+#define MAXNG 10
+
+char *get_token(int ngram) {
+  /* Buffer of last ngram-1 tokens */
+  static char token_buf[MAXNG][BSIZE];
+  static int first = 1;
+  static int bindex = 0; /* In which buffer to insert next token */
+  static char sbuf[BSIZE];
+  char *nextpos = sbuf;
+  int i;
+  int index;
+
+  if (ngram == 1)
+    return get_word();
+  if (first) {
+    /* Get ngram-1 tokens */
+    while (bindex < ngram - 1) {
+      char *word = get_word();
+      if (!word) {
+        return NULL; /* Document doesn't have enough tokens */
+      }
+      strcpy(token_buf[bindex++], word);
+    }
+    first = 0;
+  }
+  /* Get new token */
+  char *word = get_word();
+  if (!word) {
+    return NULL; /* No more ngrams */
+  }
+  strcpy(token_buf[bindex++], word);
+  if (bindex >= MAXNG)
+    bindex = 0;
+  /* Generate string of last ngram-1 tokens */
+  index = bindex - ngram;
+  if (index < 0)
+    index += MAXNG;
+  for (i = 0; i < ngram; i++) {
+    if (i != 0)
+      *nextpos++ = ' ';
+    word = token_buf[index];
+    strcpy(nextpos, word);
+    nextpos += Strlen(word);
+    index++;
+    if (index >= MAXNG)
+      index = 0;
+  }
+#if 0
+     printf("Next n-gram = '%s'\n", sbuf);
+#endif
+  return sbuf;
+}
+
+/* Find statistics of word frequency in document */
+void word_freq(FILE *src, int verbose, int ngram, int size, int quick,
+               hash_fun_t hash_fun, lower_fun_t lower_fun,
+               find_ele_fun_t find_ele_fun) {
+  char *s;
+  h_ptr ls;
+
+  init_token(src);
+  new_table(size);
+
+  while ((s = get_token(ngram))) {
+    insert_string(s, hash_fun, lower_fun, find_ele_fun);
+  }
+  if (verbose > 0) {
+    ls = sort_words(quick);
+    while (ls && verbose--) {
+      printf("%d\t'%s'\n", ls->freq, ls->word);
+      ls = ls->next;
+    }
+  }
+  printf("%d n-grams, %d unique, %d singletons.  Most common (%d) = '%s'.  "
+         "Longest (%d have length %d) = '%s'\n",
+         wcnt, ucnt, scnt, mcnt, mstring, lcnt, llen, lstring);
+}
+
+int main(int argc, char *argv[]) {
+  int verbose = 1;
+  int size = 1024;
+  int hash_fun_index = 0;
+  int lower_fun_index = 0;
+  int find_fun_index = 0;
+  int ngram = 1;
+  int quick = 0;
+  char *fname = NULL;
+  FILE *infile = stdin;
+  add_int_option("verbose", &verbose);
+  add_int_option("size", &size);
+  add_int_option("hash", &hash_fun_index);
+  add_int_option("lower", &lower_fun_index);
+  add_int_option("find", &find_fun_index);
+  add_int_option("ngram", &ngram);
+  add_int_option("quicksort", &quick);
+  add_string_option("file", &fname);
+  parse_options(argc, argv, NULL);
+  show_options(stdout);
+  printf("N-gram size %d\n", ngram);
+  printf("Lower case function %s\n", lower_fun_names[lower_fun_index]);
+  printf("Hash function %s\n", hash_fun_names[hash_fun_index]);
+  printf("Find element function %s\n", find_ele_fun_names[find_fun_index]);
+  if ((unsigned)hash_fun_index >= HCNT) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Invalid hash function index %d\n", hash_fun_index);
+    exit(1);
+  }
+  if ((unsigned)lower_fun_index >= LCNT) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Invalid lower function index %d\n", lower_fun_index);
+    exit(1);
+  }
+  if ((unsigned)find_fun_index >= FCNT) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Invalid find function index %d\n", find_fun_index);
+    exit(1);
+  }
+  if (fname) {
+    infile = fopen(fname, "r");
+    if (!infile) {
+      fprintf(stderr, "Couldn't open file '%s'\n", fname);
+      exit(1);
+    }
+  }
+  word_freq(infile, verbose, ngram, size, quick, hash_fun_set[hash_fun_index],
+            lower_fun_set[lower_fun_index], find_ele_fun_set[find_fun_index]);
+  printf("Total time = %f seconds\n", (double)clock() / CLOCKS_PER_SEC);
+  fclose(infile);
+  return 0;
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/graph.png b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/graph.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b8f336e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/graph.png
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/options.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/options.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..da62cde
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/options.c
@@ -0,0 +1,212 @@
+/*
+ * Code to process options from command line arguments.
+ * Option values can be integers,
+ * floats, or strings.   Allow prefix of option name, as long as
+ * unambiguous.  Also support printing of usage information.
+ */
+#include "options.h"
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <string.h>
+
+typedef enum { INT_OPTION, DOUBLE_OPTION, STRING_OPTION } option_t;
+
+typedef struct {
+  char *name;
+  option_t type;
+  union {
+    int *i;
+    double *d;
+    char **s;
+  } valp;
+} option_entry;
+
+#define MAX_OPTION 100
+static option_entry options[MAX_OPTION];
+
+static int option_count = 0;
+
+/* Determine length of string match */
+static int match_length(char *s, char *t) {
+  int result = 0;
+  while (*s == *t) {
+    result++;
+    if (*s == '\0')
+      break;
+    s++;
+    t++;
+  }
+  return result;
+}
+
+void usage(char *prog) {
+  int j;
+  fprintf(stderr, "Usage: %s", prog);
+  for (j = 0; j < option_count; j++) {
+    switch (options[j].type) {
+    case INT_OPTION:
+      fprintf(stderr, " [-%s (%d)]", options[j].name, *(options[j].valp.i));
+      break;
+    case DOUBLE_OPTION:
+      fprintf(stderr, " [-%s (%.2f)]", options[j].name, *(options[j].valp.d));
+      break;
+    case STRING_OPTION:
+      fprintf(stderr, " [-%s (%s)]", options[j].name, *(options[j].valp.s));
+      break;
+    }
+  }
+  fprintf(stderr, "\n");
+  exit(1);
+}
+
+/* Determine which option is best match. */
+static int find_option(char *prog, char *name) {
+  int sofar = -1;
+  int sofar_length = 0;
+  int i;
+  int ambiguous = 0;
+  for (i = 0; i < option_count; i++) {
+    int length = match_length(options[i].name, name);
+    if (length > sofar_length) {
+      sofar = i;
+      sofar_length = length;
+      ambiguous = 0;
+    } else if (length > 0 && length == sofar_length) {
+      ambiguous = 1;
+    }
+  }
+  if (sofar_length == 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "No match found to option '%s'\n", name);
+    usage(prog);
+  } else if (ambiguous) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Ambiguous option: '%s'\n", name);
+    usage(prog);
+  }
+  return sofar;
+}
+
+void add_int_option(char *name, int *var) {
+  options[option_count].name = name;
+  options[option_count].type = INT_OPTION;
+  options[option_count].valp.i = var;
+  option_count++;
+}
+
+void add_double_option(char *name, double *var) {
+  options[option_count].name = name;
+  options[option_count].type = DOUBLE_OPTION;
+  options[option_count].valp.d = var;
+  option_count++;
+}
+
+void add_string_option(char *name, char **var) {
+  options[option_count].name = name;
+  options[option_count].type = STRING_OPTION;
+  options[option_count].valp.s = var;
+  option_count++;
+}
+
+int parse_options(int argc, char *argv[], char *otherargs[]) {
+  int i, j;
+  int ocount = 0;
+  float f;
+  char *prog = argv[0];
+  for (i = 1; i < argc; i++) {
+    /* Look for options */
+    if (*argv[i] != '-') {
+      /* Must be another class of argument */
+      if (otherargs)
+        otherargs[ocount] = argv[i];
+      ocount++;
+      continue;
+    }
+    j = find_option(prog, argv[i] + 1);
+    i++; /* Move to next argument */
+    if (i >= argc) {
+      fprintf(stderr, "Missing value for option %s\n", options[j].name);
+      usage(prog);
+    }
+    switch (options[j].type) {
+    case INT_OPTION:
+      if (sscanf(argv[i], "%d", options[j].valp.i) != 1) {
+        fprintf(stderr, "Can't parse argument '%s' as integer\n", argv[i]);
+        usage(prog);
+      }
+      break;
+    case DOUBLE_OPTION:
+      if (sscanf(argv[i], "%f", &f) != 1) {
+        fprintf(stderr, "Can't parse argument '%s' as double\n", argv[i]);
+        usage(prog);
+      }
+      *options[j].valp.d = f;
+      break;
+    case STRING_OPTION:
+      *(options[j].valp.s) = argv[i];
+      break;
+    default:
+      fprintf(stderr, "Internal error.  Don't know option type %d\n",
+              options[j].type);
+      exit(1);
+    }
+  }
+  return ocount;
+}
+
+static char *strsave(char *s) {
+  char *result = (char *)malloc(strlen(s) + 1);
+  strcpy(result, s);
+  return result;
+}
+
+void parse_option_file(char *prog, FILE *option_file) {
+  int j;
+  float f;
+  char name[50], val[50];
+  while (fscanf(option_file, "%s %s", name, val) == 2) {
+    if (name[0] != '-') {
+      fprintf(stderr, "Need '-' before option '%s'\n", name);
+      usage(prog);
+    }
+    j = find_option(prog, name + 1);
+    switch (options[j].type) {
+    case INT_OPTION:
+      if (sscanf(val, "%d", options[j].valp.i) != 1) {
+        fprintf(stderr, "Can't parse argument '%s' as integer\n", val);
+        usage(prog);
+      }
+      break;
+    case DOUBLE_OPTION:
+      if (sscanf(val, "%f", &f) != 1) {
+        fprintf(stderr, "Can't parse argument '%s' as double\n", val);
+        usage(prog);
+      }
+      *options[j].valp.d = f;
+      break;
+    case STRING_OPTION:
+      *(options[j].valp.s) = strsave(val);
+      break;
+    default:
+      fprintf(stderr, "Internal error.  Don't know option type %d\n",
+              options[j].type);
+      exit(1);
+    }
+  }
+}
+
+void show_options(FILE *outfile) {
+  int i;
+  for (i = 0; i < option_count; i++) {
+    switch (options[i].type) {
+    case INT_OPTION:
+      fprintf(outfile, "%s\t%d\n", options[i].name, *(options[i].valp.i));
+      break;
+    case DOUBLE_OPTION:
+      fprintf(outfile, "%s\t%f\n", options[i].name, *(options[i].valp.d));
+      break;
+    case STRING_OPTION:
+      if (*options[i].valp.s)
+        fprintf(outfile, "%s\t%s\n", options[i].name, *(options[i].valp.s));
+      break;
+    }
+  }
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/options.h b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/options.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1e3878d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/options.h
@@ -0,0 +1,28 @@
+/*
+ * Code to process options from
+ * command line arguments.  Arguments can be integers,
+ * floats, or strings.   Allow prefix of argument name, as long as
+ * unambigous.  Also support printing of usage information.
+ */
+
+#include <stdio.h>
+
+void add_int_option(char *name, int *var);
+void add_double_option(char *name, double *var);
+void add_string_option(char *name, char **var);
+
+/* Print usage information and exit */
+void usage(char *prog);
+
+/*
+ * Parse option from arguments.  Print error message & exit if any problems
+ * If otherargs nonnull, fill it with any nonoption arguments.
+ * Return number of such arguments.
+ */
+int parse_options(int argc, char *argv[], char *otherargs[]);
+
+/* Parse options from file */
+void parse_option_file(char *prog, FILE *option_file);
+
+/* Show which options are in effect */
+void show_options(FILE *outfile);
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/shakespeare.txt b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/shakespeare.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6c851f3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/shakespeare.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,172948 @@
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+KING OF FRANCE	(KING:)
+
+DUKE OF FLORENCE	(DUKE:)
+
+BERTRAM	Count of Rousillon.
+
+LAFEU	an old lord.
+
+PAROLLES	a follower of Bertram.
+
+
+Steward	|
+	|  servants to the Countess of Rousillon.
+Clown	|
+
+
+	A Page. (Page:)
+
+COUNTESS OF
+ROUSILLON	mother to Bertram. (COUNTESS:)
+
+HELENA	a gentlewoman protected by the Countess.
+
+	An old Widow of Florence. (Widow:)
+
+DIANA	daughter to the Widow.
+
+
+VIOLENTA	|
+	|  neighbours and friends to the Widow.
+MARIANA	|
+
+
+	Lords, Officers, Soldiers, &c., French and Florentine.
+	(First Lord:)
+	(Second Lord:)
+	(Fourth Lord:)
+	(First Gentleman:)
+	(Second Gentleman:)
+	(First Soldier:)
+	(Gentleman:)
+
+
+
+SCENE	Rousillon; Paris; Florence; Marseilles.
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS of Rousillon, HELENA,
+	and LAFEU, all in black]
+
+COUNTESS	In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband.
+
+BERTRAM	And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death
+	anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to
+	whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection.
+
+LAFEU	You shall find of the king a husband, madam; you,
+	sir, a father: he that so generally is at all times
+	good must of necessity hold his virtue to you; whose
+	worthiness would stir it up where it wanted rather
+	than lack it where there is such abundance.
+
+COUNTESS	What hope is there of his majesty's amendment?
+
+LAFEU	He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose
+	practises he hath persecuted time with hope, and
+	finds no other advantage in the process but only the
+	losing of hope by time.
+
+COUNTESS	This young gentlewoman had a father,--O, that
+	'had'! how sad a passage 'tis!--whose skill was
+	almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so
+	far, would have made nature immortal, and death
+	should have play for lack of work. Would, for the
+	king's sake, he were living! I think it would be
+	the death of the king's disease.
+
+LAFEU	How called you the man you speak of, madam?
+
+COUNTESS	He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was
+	his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon.
+
+LAFEU	He was excellent indeed, madam: the king very
+	lately spoke of him admiringly and mourningly: he
+	was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge
+	could be set up against mortality.
+
+BERTRAM	What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of?
+
+LAFEU	A fistula, my lord.
+
+BERTRAM	I heard not of it before.
+
+LAFEU	I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman
+	the daughter of Gerard de Narbon?
+
+COUNTESS	His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my
+	overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that
+	her education promises; her dispositions she
+	inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where
+	an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there
+	commendations go with pity; they are virtues and
+	traitors too; in her they are the better for their
+	simpleness; she derives her honesty and achieves her goodness.
+
+LAFEU	Your commendations, madam, get from her tears.
+
+COUNTESS	'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise
+	in. The remembrance of her father never approaches
+	her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all
+	livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena;
+	go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect
+	a sorrow than have it.
+
+HELENA	I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too.
+
+LAFEU	Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead,
+	excessive grief the enemy to the living.
+
+COUNTESS	If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess
+	makes it soon mortal.
+
+BERTRAM	Madam, I desire your holy wishes.
+
+LAFEU	How understand we that?
+
+COUNTESS	Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father
+	In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue
+	Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness
+	Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few,
+	Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy
+	Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend
+	Under thy own life's key: be cheque'd for silence,
+	But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will,
+	That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down,
+	Fall on thy head! Farewell, my lord;
+	'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord,
+	Advise him.
+
+LAFEU	          He cannot want the best
+	That shall attend his love.
+
+COUNTESS	Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BERTRAM	[To HELENA]  The best wishes that can be forged in
+	your thoughts be servants to you! Be comfortable
+	to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her.
+
+LAFEU	Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit of
+	your father.
+
+	[Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU]
+
+HELENA	O, were that all! I think not on my father;
+	And these great tears grace his remembrance more
+	Than those I shed for him. What was he like?
+	I have forgot him: my imagination
+	Carries no favour in't but Bertram's.
+	I am undone: there is no living, none,
+	If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one
+	That I should love a bright particular star
+	And think to wed it, he is so above me:
+	In his bright radiance and collateral light
+	Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.
+	The ambition in my love thus plagues itself:
+	The hind that would be mated by the lion
+	Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though plague,
+	To see him every hour; to sit and draw
+	His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
+	In our heart's table; heart too capable
+	Of every line and trick of his sweet favour:
+	But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy
+	Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here?
+
+	[Enter PAROLLES]
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	One that goes with him: I love him for his sake;
+	And yet I know him a notorious liar,
+	Think him a great way fool, solely a coward;
+	Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him,
+	That they take place, when virtue's steely bones
+	Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see
+	Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.
+
+PAROLLES	Save you, fair queen!
+
+HELENA	And you, monarch!
+
+PAROLLES	No.
+
+HELENA	And no.
+
+PAROLLES	Are you meditating on virginity?
+
+HELENA	Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you: let me
+	ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how
+	may we barricado it against him?
+
+PAROLLES	Keep him out.
+
+HELENA	But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant,
+	in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us some
+	warlike resistance.
+
+PAROLLES	There is none: man, sitting down before you, will
+	undermine you and blow you up.
+
+HELENA	Bless our poor virginity from underminers and
+	blowers up! Is there no military policy, how
+	virgins might blow up men?
+
+PAROLLES	Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be
+	blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with
+	the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It
+	is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to
+	preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational
+	increase and there was never virgin got till
+	virginity was first lost. That you were made of is
+	metal to make virgins. Virginity by being once lost
+	may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is
+	ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with 't!
+
+HELENA	I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a virgin.
+
+PAROLLES	There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the
+	rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity,
+	is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible
+	disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin:
+	virginity murders itself and should be buried in
+	highways out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate
+	offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites,
+	much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very
+	paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach.
+	Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of
+	self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the
+	canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but loose
+	by't: out with 't! within ten year it will make
+	itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the
+	principal itself not much the worse: away with 't!
+
+HELENA	How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking?
+
+PAROLLES	Let me see: marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it
+	likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with
+	lying; the longer kept, the less worth: off with 't
+	while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request.
+	Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out
+	of fashion: richly suited, but unsuitable: just
+	like the brooch and the tooth-pick, which wear not
+	now. Your date is better in your pie and your
+	porridge than in your cheek; and your virginity,
+	your old virginity, is like one of our French
+	withered pears, it looks ill, it eats drily; marry,
+	'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better;
+	marry, yet 'tis a withered pear: will you anything with it?
+
+HELENA	Not my virginity yet [         ]
+	There shall your master have a thousand loves,
+	A mother and a mistress and a friend,
+	A phoenix, captain and an enemy,
+	A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,
+	A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear;
+	His humble ambition, proud humility,
+	His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,
+	His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world
+	Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms,
+	That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he--
+	I know not what he shall. God send him well!
+	The court's a learning place, and he is one--
+
+PAROLLES	What one, i' faith?
+
+HELENA	That I wish well. 'Tis pity--
+
+PAROLLES	What's pity?
+
+HELENA	That wishing well had not a body in't,
+	Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born,
+	Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes,
+	Might with effects of them follow our friends,
+	And show what we alone must think, which never
+	Return us thanks.
+
+	[Enter Page]
+
+Page	Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PAROLLES	Little Helen, farewell; if I can remember thee, I
+	will think of thee at court.
+
+HELENA	Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.
+
+PAROLLES	Under Mars, I.
+
+HELENA	I especially think, under Mars.
+
+PAROLLES	Why under Mars?
+
+HELENA	The wars have so kept you under that you must needs
+	be born under Mars.
+
+PAROLLES	When he was predominant.
+
+HELENA	When he was retrograde, I think, rather.
+
+PAROLLES	Why think you so?
+
+HELENA	You go so much backward when you fight.
+
+PAROLLES	That's for advantage.
+
+HELENA	So is running away, when fear proposes the safety;
+	but the composition that your valour and fear makes
+	in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well.
+
+PAROLLES	I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee
+	acutely. I will return perfect courtier; in the
+	which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize
+	thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's
+	counsel and understand what advice shall thrust upon
+	thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and
+	thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When
+	thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast
+	none, remember thy friends; get thee a good husband,
+	and use him as he uses thee; so, farewell.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HELENA	Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,
+	Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky
+	Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull
+	Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull.
+	What power is it which mounts my love so high,
+	That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye?
+	The mightiest space in fortune nature brings
+	To join like likes and kiss like native things.
+	Impossible be strange attempts to those
+	That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose
+	What hath been cannot be: who ever strove
+	So show her merit, that did miss her love?
+	The king's disease--my project may deceive me,
+	But my intents are fix'd and will not leave me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Paris. The KING's palace.
+
+
+	[Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING of France,
+	with letters, and divers Attendants]
+
+KING	The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears;
+	Have fought with equal fortune and continue
+	A braving war.
+
+First Lord	                  So 'tis reported, sir.
+
+KING	Nay, 'tis most credible; we here received it
+	A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Austria,
+	With caution that the Florentine will move us
+	For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend
+	Prejudicates the business and would seem
+	To have us make denial.
+
+First Lord	His love and wisdom,
+	Approved so to your majesty, may plead
+	For amplest credence.
+
+KING	He hath arm'd our answer,
+	And Florence is denied before he comes:
+	Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see
+	The Tuscan service, freely have they leave
+	To stand on either part.
+
+Second Lord	It well may serve
+	A nursery to our gentry, who are sick
+	For breathing and exploit.
+
+KING	What's he comes here?
+
+	[Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES]
+
+First Lord	It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord,
+	Young Bertram.
+
+KING	                  Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face;
+	Frank nature, rather curious than in haste,
+	Hath well composed thee. Thy father's moral parts
+	Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.
+
+BERTRAM	My thanks and duty are your majesty's.
+
+KING	I would I had that corporal soundness now,
+	As when thy father and myself in friendship
+	First tried our soldiership! He did look far
+	Into the service of the time and was
+	Discipled of the bravest: he lasted long;
+	But on us both did haggish age steal on
+	And wore us out of act. It much repairs me
+	To talk of your good father. In his youth
+	He had the wit which I can well observe
+	To-day in our young lords; but they may jest
+	Till their own scorn return to them unnoted
+	Ere they can hide their levity in honour;
+	So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness
+	Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were,
+	His equal had awaked them, and his honour,
+	Clock to itself, knew the true minute when
+	Exception bid him speak, and at this time
+	His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him
+	He used as creatures of another place
+	And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks,
+	Making them proud of his humility,
+	In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man
+	Might be a copy to these younger times;
+	Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now
+	But goers backward.
+
+BERTRAM	His good remembrance, sir,
+	Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb;
+	So in approof lives not his epitaph
+	As in your royal speech.
+
+KING	Would I were with him! He would always say--
+	Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words
+	He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them,
+	To grow there and to bear,--'Let me not live,'--
+	This his good melancholy oft began,
+	On the catastrophe and heel of pastime,
+	When it was out,--'Let me not live,' quoth he,
+	'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff
+	Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses
+	All but new things disdain; whose judgments are
+	Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies
+	Expire before their fashions.' This he wish'd;
+	I after him do after him wish too,
+	Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home,
+	I quickly were dissolved from my hive,
+	To give some labourers room.
+
+Second Lord	You are loved, sir:
+	They that least lend it you shall lack you first.
+
+KING	I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, count,
+	Since the physician at your father's died?
+	He was much famed.
+
+BERTRAM	                  Some six months since, my lord.
+
+KING	If he were living, I would try him yet.
+	Lend me an arm; the rest have worn me out
+	With several applications; nature and sickness
+	Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count;
+	My son's no dearer.
+
+BERTRAM	Thank your majesty.
+
+	[Exeunt. Flourish]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter COUNTESS, Steward, and Clown]
+
+COUNTESS	I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman?
+
+Steward	Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I
+	wish might be found in the calendar of my past
+	endeavours; for then we wound our modesty and make
+	foul the clearness of our deservings, when of
+	ourselves we publish them.
+
+COUNTESS	What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah:
+	the complaints I have heard of you I do not all
+	believe: 'tis my slowness that I do not; for I know
+	you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability
+	enough to make such knaveries yours.
+
+Clown	'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow.
+
+COUNTESS	Well, sir.
+
+Clown	No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, though
+	many of the rich are damned: but, if I may have
+	your ladyship's good will to go to the world, Isbel
+	the woman and I will do as we may.
+
+COUNTESS	Wilt thou needs be a beggar?
+
+Clown	I do beg your good will in this case.
+
+COUNTESS	In what case?
+
+Clown	In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no
+	heritage: and I think I shall never have the
+	blessing of God till I have issue o' my body; for
+	they say barnes are blessings.
+
+COUNTESS	Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry.
+
+Clown	My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on
+	by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives.
+
+COUNTESS	Is this all your worship's reason?
+
+Clown	Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons such as they
+	are.
+
+COUNTESS	May the world know them?
+
+Clown	I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and
+	all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry
+	that I may repent.
+
+COUNTESS	Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness.
+
+Clown	I am out o' friends, madam; and I hope to have
+	friends for my wife's sake.
+
+COUNTESS	Such friends are thine enemies, knave.
+
+Clown	You're shallow, madam, in great friends; for the
+	knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary of.
+	He that ears my land spares my team and gives me
+	leave to in the crop; if I be his cuckold, he's my
+	drudge: he that comforts my wife is the cherisher
+	of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh
+	and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my
+	flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he that kisses
+	my wife is my friend. If men could be contented to
+	be what they are, there were no fear in marriage;
+	for young Charbon the Puritan and old Poysam the
+	Papist, howsome'er their hearts are severed in
+	religion, their heads are both one; they may jowl
+	horns together, like any deer i' the herd.
+
+COUNTESS	Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and calumnious knave?
+
+Clown	A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next
+	way:
+	For I the ballad will repeat,
+	Which men full true shall find;
+	Your marriage comes by destiny,
+	Your cuckoo sings by kind.
+
+COUNTESS	Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon.
+
+Steward	May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to
+	you: of her I am to speak.
+
+COUNTESS	Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her;
+	Helen, I mean.
+
+Clown	     Was this fair face the cause, quoth she,
+	Why the Grecians sacked Troy?
+	Fond done, done fond,
+	Was this King Priam's joy?
+	With that she sighed as she stood,
+	With that she sighed as she stood,
+	And gave this sentence then;
+	Among nine bad if one be good,
+	Among nine bad if one be good,
+	There's yet one good in ten.
+
+COUNTESS	What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah.
+
+Clown	One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying
+	o' the song: would God would serve the world so all
+	the year! we'ld find no fault with the tithe-woman,
+	if I were the parson. One in ten, quoth a'! An we
+	might have a good woman born but one every blazing
+	star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery
+	well: a man may draw his heart out, ere a' pluck
+	one.
+
+COUNTESS	You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you.
+
+Clown	That man should be at woman's command, and yet no
+	hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet it
+	will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of
+	humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am
+	going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+COUNTESS	Well, now.
+
+Steward	I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely.
+
+COUNTESS	Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me; and
+	she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully
+	make title to as much love as she finds: there is
+	more owing her than is paid; and more shall be paid
+	her than she'll demand.
+
+Steward	Madam, I was very late more near her than I think
+	she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate
+	to herself her own words to her own ears; she
+	thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any
+	stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son:
+	Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put
+	such difference betwixt their two estates; Love no
+	god, that would not extend his might, only where
+	qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins, that
+	would suffer her poor knight surprised, without
+	rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward.
+	This she delivered in the most bitter touch of
+	sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I
+	held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal;
+	sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns
+	you something to know it.
+
+COUNTESS	You have discharged this honestly; keep it to
+	yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this
+	before, which hung so tottering in the balance that
+	I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you,
+	leave me: stall this in your bosom; and I thank you
+	for your honest care: I will speak with you further anon.
+
+	[Exit Steward]
+
+	[Enter HELENA]
+
+	Even so it was with me when I was young:
+	If ever we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn
+	Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong;
+	Our blood to us, this to our blood is born;
+	It is the show and seal of nature's truth,
+	Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth:
+	By our remembrances of days foregone,
+	Such were our faults, or then we thought them none.
+	Her eye is sick on't: I observe her now.
+
+HELENA	What is your pleasure, madam?
+
+COUNTESS	You know, Helen,
+	I am a mother to you.
+
+HELENA	Mine honourable mistress.
+
+COUNTESS	Nay, a mother:
+	Why not a mother? When I said 'a mother,'
+	Methought you saw a serpent: what's in 'mother,'
+	That you start at it? I say, I am your mother;
+	And put you in the catalogue of those
+	That were enwombed mine: 'tis often seen
+	Adoption strives with nature and choice breeds
+	A native slip to us from foreign seeds:
+	You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan,
+	Yet I express to you a mother's care:
+	God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood
+	To say I am thy mother? What's the matter,
+	That this distemper'd messenger of wet,
+	The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye?
+	Why? that you are my daughter?
+
+HELENA	That I am not.
+
+COUNTESS	I say, I am your mother.
+
+HELENA	Pardon, madam;
+	The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother:
+	I am from humble, he from honour'd name;
+	No note upon my parents, his all noble:
+	My master, my dear lord he is; and I
+	His servant live, and will his vassal die:
+	He must not be my brother.
+
+COUNTESS	Nor I your mother?
+
+HELENA	You are my mother, madam; would you were,--
+	So that my lord your son were not my brother,--
+	Indeed my mother! or were you both our mothers,
+	I care no more for than I do for heaven,
+	So I were not his sister. Can't no other,
+	But, I your daughter, he must be my brother?
+
+COUNTESS	Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law:
+	God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother
+	So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again?
+	My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see
+	The mystery of your loneliness, and find
+	Your salt tears' head: now to all sense 'tis gross
+	You love my son; invention is ashamed,
+	Against the proclamation of thy passion,
+	To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true;
+	But tell me then, 'tis so; for, look thy cheeks
+	Confess it, th' one to th' other; and thine eyes
+	See it so grossly shown in thy behaviors
+	That in their kind they speak it: only sin
+	And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue,
+	That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so?
+	If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew;
+	If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee,
+	As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,
+	Tell me truly.
+
+HELENA	                  Good madam, pardon me!
+
+COUNTESS	Do you love my son?
+
+HELENA	Your pardon, noble mistress!
+
+COUNTESS	Love you my son?
+
+HELENA	                  Do not you love him, madam?
+
+COUNTESS	Go not about; my love hath in't a bond,
+	Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose
+	The state of your affection; for your passions
+	Have to the full appeach'd.
+
+HELENA	Then, I confess,
+	Here on my knee, before high heaven and you,
+	That before you, and next unto high heaven,
+	I love your son.
+	My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love:
+	Be not offended; for it hurts not him
+	That he is loved of me: I follow him not
+	By any token of presumptuous suit;
+	Nor would I have him till I do deserve him;
+	Yet never know how that desert should be.
+	I know I love in vain, strive against hope;
+	Yet in this captious and intenible sieve
+	I still pour in the waters of my love
+	And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like,
+	Religious in mine error, I adore
+	The sun, that looks upon his worshipper,
+	But knows of him no more. My dearest madam,
+	Let not your hate encounter with my love
+	For loving where you do: but if yourself,
+	Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth,
+	Did ever in so true a flame of liking
+	Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian
+	Was both herself and love: O, then, give pity
+	To her, whose state is such that cannot choose
+	But lend and give where she is sure to lose;
+	That seeks not to find that her search implies,
+	But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies!
+
+COUNTESS	Had you not lately an intent,--speak truly,--
+	To go to Paris?
+
+HELENA	                  Madam, I had.
+
+COUNTESS	Wherefore? tell true.
+
+HELENA	I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear.
+	You know my father left me some prescriptions
+	Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading
+	And manifest experience had collected
+	For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me
+	In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them,
+	As notes whose faculties inclusive were
+	More than they were in note: amongst the rest,
+	There is a remedy, approved, set down,
+	To cure the desperate languishings whereof
+	The king is render'd lost.
+
+COUNTESS	This was your motive
+	For Paris, was it? speak.
+
+HELENA	My lord your son made me to think of this;
+	Else Paris and the medicine and the king
+	Had from the conversation of my thoughts
+	Haply been absent then.
+
+COUNTESS	But think you, Helen,
+	If you should tender your supposed aid,
+	He would receive it? he and his physicians
+	Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him,
+	They, that they cannot help: how shall they credit
+	A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools,
+	Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off
+	The danger to itself?
+
+HELENA	There's something in't,
+	More than my father's skill, which was the greatest
+	Of his profession, that his good receipt
+	Shall for my legacy be sanctified
+	By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour
+	But give me leave to try success, I'ld venture
+	The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure
+	By such a day and hour.
+
+COUNTESS	Dost thou believe't?
+
+HELENA	Ay, madam, knowingly.
+
+COUNTESS	Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love,
+	Means and attendants and my loving greetings
+	To those of mine in court: I'll stay at home
+	And pray God's blessing into thy attempt:
+	Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this,
+	What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Paris. The KING's palace.
+
+
+	[Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING, attended
+	with divers young Lords taking leave for the
+	Florentine war; BERTRAM, and PAROLLES]
+
+KING	Farewell, young lords; these warlike principles
+	Do not throw from you: and you, my lords, farewell:
+	Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain, all
+	The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received,
+	And is enough for both.
+
+First Lord	'Tis our hope, sir,
+	After well enter'd soldiers, to return
+	And find your grace in health.
+
+KING	No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart
+	Will not confess he owes the malady
+	That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords;
+	Whether I live or die, be you the sons
+	Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy,--
+	Those bated that inherit but the fall
+	Of the last monarchy,--see that you come
+	Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when
+	The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek,
+	That fame may cry you loud: I say, farewell.
+
+Second Lord	Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty!
+
+KING	Those girls of Italy, take heed of them:
+	They say, our French lack language to deny,
+	If they demand: beware of being captives,
+	Before you serve.
+
+Both	                  Our hearts receive your warnings.
+
+KING	Farewell. Come hither to me.
+
+	[Exit, attended]
+
+First Lord	O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!
+
+PAROLLES	'Tis not his fault, the spark.
+
+Second Lord	O, 'tis brave wars!
+
+PAROLLES	Most admirable: I have seen those wars.
+
+BERTRAM	I am commanded here, and kept a coil with
+	'Too young' and 'the next year' and ''tis too early.'
+
+PAROLLES	An thy mind stand to't, boy, steal away bravely.
+
+BERTRAM	I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock,
+	Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry,
+	Till honour be bought up and no sword worn
+	But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll steal away.
+
+First Lord	There's honour in the theft.
+
+PAROLLES	Commit it, count.
+
+Second Lord	I am your accessary; and so, farewell.
+
+BERTRAM	I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body.
+
+First Lord	Farewell, captain.
+
+Second Lord	Sweet Monsieur Parolles!
+
+PAROLLES	Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good
+	sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals: you shall
+	find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain
+	Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here
+	on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword
+	entrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his
+	reports for me.
+
+First Lord	We shall, noble captain.
+
+	[Exeunt Lords]
+
+PAROLLES	Mars dote on you for his novices! what will ye do?
+
+BERTRAM	Stay: the king.
+
+	[Re-enter KING. BERTRAM and PAROLLES retire]
+
+PAROLLES	[To BERTRAM]  Use a more spacious ceremony to the
+	noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the
+	list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to
+	them: for they wear themselves in the cap of the
+	time, there do muster true gait, eat, speak, and
+	move under the influence of the most received star;
+	and though the devil lead the measure, such are to
+	be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell.
+
+BERTRAM	And I will do so.
+
+PAROLLES	Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men.
+
+	[Exeunt BERTRAM and PAROLLES]
+
+	[Enter LAFEU]
+
+LAFEU	[Kneeling]  Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.
+
+KING	I'll fee thee to stand up.
+
+LAFEU	Then here's a man stands, that has brought his pardon.
+	I would you had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy,
+	And that at my bidding you could so stand up.
+
+KING	I would I had; so I had broke thy pate,
+	And ask'd thee mercy for't.
+
+LAFEU	Good faith, across: but, my good lord 'tis thus;
+	Will you be cured of your infirmity?
+
+KING	No.
+
+LAFEU	O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox?
+	Yes, but you will my noble grapes, an if
+	My royal fox could reach them: I have seen a medicine
+	That's able to breathe life into a stone,
+	Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary
+	With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch,
+	Is powerful to araise King Pepin, nay,
+	To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand,
+	And write to her a love-line.
+
+KING	What 'her' is this?
+
+LAFEU	Why, Doctor She: my lord, there's one arrived,
+	If you will see her: now, by my faith and honour,
+	If seriously I may convey my thoughts
+	In this my light deliverance, I have spoke
+	With one that, in her sex, her years, profession,
+	Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more
+	Than I dare blame my weakness: will you see her
+	For that is her demand, and know her business?
+	That done, laugh well at me.
+
+KING	Now, good Lafeu,
+	Bring in the admiration; that we with thee
+	May spend our wonder too, or take off thine
+	By wondering how thou took'st it.
+
+LAFEU	Nay, I'll fit you,
+	And not be all day neither.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING	Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.
+
+	[Re-enter LAFEU, with HELENA]
+
+LAFEU	Nay, come your ways.
+
+KING	This haste hath wings indeed.
+
+LAFEU	Nay, come your ways:
+	This is his majesty; say your mind to him:
+	A traitor you do look like; but such traitors
+	His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle,
+	That dare leave two together; fare you well.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING	Now, fair one, does your business follow us?
+
+HELENA	Ay, my good lord.
+	Gerard de Narbon was my father;
+	In what he did profess, well found.
+
+KING	I knew him.
+
+HELENA	The rather will I spare my praises towards him:
+	Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death
+	Many receipts he gave me: chiefly one.
+	Which, as the dearest issue of his practise,
+	And of his old experience the oily darling,
+	He bade me store up, as a triple eye,
+	Safer than mine own two, more dear; I have so;
+	And hearing your high majesty is touch'd
+	With that malignant cause wherein the honour
+	Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power,
+	I come to tender it and my appliance
+	With all bound humbleness.
+
+KING	We thank you, maiden;
+	But may not be so credulous of cure,
+	When our most learned doctors leave us and
+	The congregated college have concluded
+	That labouring art can never ransom nature
+	From her inaidible estate; I say we must not
+	So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope,
+	To prostitute our past-cure malady
+	To empirics, or to dissever so
+	Our great self and our credit, to esteem
+	A senseless help when help past sense we deem.
+
+HELENA	My duty then shall pay me for my pains:
+	I will no more enforce mine office on you.
+	Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts
+	A modest one, to bear me back a again.
+
+KING	I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful:
+	Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give
+	As one near death to those that wish him live:
+	But what at full I know, thou know'st no part,
+	I knowing all my peril, thou no art.
+
+HELENA	What I can do can do no hurt to try,
+	Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy.
+	He that of greatest works is finisher
+	Oft does them by the weakest minister:
+	So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown,
+	When judges have been babes; great floods have flown
+	From simple sources, and great seas have dried
+	When miracles have by the greatest been denied.
+	Oft expectation fails and most oft there
+	Where most it promises, and oft it hits
+	Where hope is coldest and despair most fits.
+
+KING	I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid;
+	Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid:
+	Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward.
+
+HELENA	Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd:
+	It is not so with Him that all things knows
+	As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows;
+	But most it is presumption in us when
+	The help of heaven we count the act of men.
+	Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent;
+	Of heaven, not me, make an experiment.
+	I am not an impostor that proclaim
+	Myself against the level of mine aim;
+	But know I think and think I know most sure
+	My art is not past power nor you past cure.
+
+KING	Are thou so confident? within what space
+	Hopest thou my cure?
+
+HELENA	The great'st grace lending grace
+	Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring
+	Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring,
+	Ere twice in murk and occidental damp
+	Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp,
+	Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass
+	Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass,
+	What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly,
+	Health shall live free and sickness freely die.
+
+KING	Upon thy certainty and confidence
+	What darest thou venture?
+
+HELENA	Tax of impudence,
+	A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame
+	Traduced by odious ballads: my maiden's name
+	Sear'd otherwise; nay, worse--if worse--extended
+	With vilest torture let my life be ended.
+
+KING	Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak
+	His powerful sound within an organ weak:
+	And what impossibility would slay
+	In common sense, sense saves another way.
+	Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate
+	Worth name of life in thee hath estimate,
+	Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all
+	That happiness and prime can happy call:
+	Thou this to hazard needs must intimate
+	Skill infinite or monstrous desperate.
+	Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try,
+	That ministers thine own death if I die.
+
+HELENA	If I break time, or flinch in property
+	Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die,
+	And well deserved: not helping, death's my fee;
+	But, if I help, what do you promise me?
+
+KING	Make thy demand.
+
+HELENA	                  But will you make it even?
+
+KING	Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven.
+
+HELENA	Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand
+	What husband in thy power I will command:
+	Exempted be from me the arrogance
+	To choose from forth the royal blood of France,
+	My low and humble name to propagate
+	With any branch or image of thy state;
+	But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know
+	Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.
+
+KING	Here is my hand; the premises observed,
+	Thy will by my performance shall be served:
+	So make the choice of thy own time, for I,
+	Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely.
+	More should I question thee, and more I must,
+	Though more to know could not be more to trust,
+	From whence thou camest, how tended on: but rest
+	Unquestion'd welcome and undoubted blest.
+	Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed
+	As high as word, my deed shall match thy meed.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter COUNTESS and Clown]
+
+COUNTESS	Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of
+	your breeding.
+
+Clown	I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught: I
+	know my business is but to the court.
+
+COUNTESS	To the court! why, what place make you special,
+	when you put off that with such contempt? But to the court!
+
+Clown	Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he
+	may easily put it off at court: he that cannot make
+	a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand and say nothing,
+	has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and indeed
+	such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the
+	court; but for me, I have an answer will serve all
+	men.
+
+COUNTESS	Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all
+	questions.
+
+Clown	It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks,
+	the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn
+	buttock, or any buttock.
+
+COUNTESS	Will your answer serve fit to all questions?
+
+Clown	As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney,
+	as your French crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's
+	rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove
+	Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his
+	hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding queen
+	to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the
+	friar's mouth, nay, as the pudding to his skin.
+
+COUNTESS	Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all
+	questions?
+
+Clown	From below your duke to beneath your constable, it
+	will fit any question.
+
+COUNTESS	It must be an answer of most monstrous size that
+	must fit all demands.
+
+Clown	But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned
+	should speak truth of it: here it is, and all that
+	belongs to't. Ask me if I am a courtier: it shall
+	do you no harm to learn.
+
+COUNTESS	To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in
+	question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I
+	pray you, sir, are you a courtier?
+
+Clown	O Lord, sir! There's a simple putting off. More,
+	more, a hundred of them.
+
+COUNTESS	Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you.
+
+Clown	O Lord, sir! Thick, thick, spare not me.
+
+COUNTESS	I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat.
+
+Clown	O Lord, sir! Nay, put me to't, I warrant you.
+
+COUNTESS	You were lately whipped, sir, as I think.
+
+Clown	O Lord, sir! spare not me.
+
+COUNTESS	Do you cry, 'O Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and
+	'spare not me?' Indeed your 'O Lord, sir!' is very
+	sequent to your whipping: you would answer very well
+	to a whipping, if you were but bound to't.
+
+Clown	I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'O Lord,
+	sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever.
+
+COUNTESS	I play the noble housewife with the time
+	To entertain't so merrily with a fool.
+
+Clown	O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again.
+
+COUNTESS	An end, sir; to your business. Give Helen this,
+	And urge her to a present answer back:
+	Commend me to my kinsmen and my son:
+	This is not much.
+
+Clown	Not much commendation to them.
+
+COUNTESS	Not much employment for you: you understand me?
+
+Clown	Most fruitfully: I am there before my legs.
+
+COUNTESS	Haste you again.
+
+	[Exeunt severally]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Paris. The KING's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES]
+
+LAFEU	They say miracles are past; and we have our
+	philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar,
+	things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that
+	we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves
+	into seeming knowledge, when we should submit
+	ourselves to an unknown fear.
+
+PAROLLES	Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath
+	shot out in our latter times.
+
+BERTRAM	And so 'tis.
+
+LAFEU	To be relinquish'd of the artists,--
+
+PAROLLES	So I say.
+
+LAFEU	Both of Galen and Paracelsus.
+
+PAROLLES	So I say.
+
+LAFEU	Of all the learned and authentic fellows,--
+
+PAROLLES	Right; so I say.
+
+LAFEU	That gave him out incurable,--
+
+PAROLLES	Why, there 'tis; so say I too.
+
+LAFEU	Not to be helped,--
+
+PAROLLES	Right; as 'twere, a man assured of a--
+
+LAFEU	Uncertain life, and sure death.
+
+PAROLLES	Just, you say well; so would I have said.
+
+LAFEU	I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world.
+
+PAROLLES	It is, indeed: if you will have it in showing, you
+	shall read it in--what do you call there?
+
+LAFEU	A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor.
+
+PAROLLES	That's it; I would have said the very same.
+
+LAFEU	Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me,
+	I speak in respect--
+
+PAROLLES	Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the
+	brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most
+	facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the--
+
+LAFEU	Very hand of heaven.
+
+PAROLLES	Ay, so I say.
+
+LAFEU	In a most weak--
+
+	[pausing]
+
+	and debile minister, great power, great
+	transcendence: which should, indeed, give us a
+	further use to be made than alone the recovery of
+	the king, as to be--
+
+	[pausing]
+
+	generally thankful.
+
+PAROLLES	I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king.
+
+	[Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. LAFEU and
+	PAROLLES retire]
+
+LAFEU	Lustig, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the
+	better, whilst I have a tooth in my head: why, he's
+	able to lead her a coranto.
+
+PAROLLES	Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen?
+
+LAFEU	'Fore God, I think so.
+
+KING	Go, call before me all the lords in court.
+	Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side;
+	And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense
+	Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive
+	The confirmation of my promised gift,
+	Which but attends thy naming.
+
+	[Enter three or four Lords]
+
+	Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel
+	Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing,
+	O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice
+	I have to use: thy frank election make;
+	Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake.
+
+HELENA	To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress
+	Fall, when Love please! marry, to each, but one!
+
+LAFEU	I'ld give bay Curtal and his furniture,
+	My mouth no more were broken than these boys',
+	And writ as little beard.
+
+KING	Peruse them well:
+	Not one of those but had a noble father.
+
+HELENA	Gentlemen,
+	Heaven hath through me restored the king to health.
+
+All	We understand it, and thank heaven for you.
+
+HELENA	I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest,
+	That I protest I simply am a maid.
+	Please it your majesty, I have done already:
+	The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me,
+	'We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused,
+	Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever;
+	We'll ne'er come there again.'
+
+KING	Make choice; and, see,
+	Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me.
+
+HELENA	Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly,
+	And to imperial Love, that god most high,
+	Do my sighs stream. Sir, will you hear my suit?
+
+First Lord	And grant it.
+
+HELENA	                  Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.
+
+LAFEU	I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace
+	for my life.
+
+HELENA	The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes,
+	Before I speak, too threateningly replies:
+	Love make your fortunes twenty times above
+	Her that so wishes and her humble love!
+
+Second Lord	No better, if you please.
+
+HELENA	My wish receive,
+	Which great Love grant! and so, I take my leave.
+
+LAFEU	Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine,
+	I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to the
+	Turk, to make eunuchs of.
+
+HELENA	Be not afraid that I your hand should take;
+	I'll never do you wrong for your own sake:
+	Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed
+	Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!
+
+LAFEU	These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her:
+	sure, they are bastards to the English; the French
+	ne'er got 'em.
+
+HELENA	You are too young, too happy, and too good,
+	To make yourself a son out of my blood.
+
+Fourth Lord	Fair one, I think not so.
+
+LAFEU	There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father drunk
+	wine: but if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth
+	of fourteen; I have known thee already.
+
+HELENA	[To BERTRAM]  I dare not say I take you; but I give
+	Me and my service, ever whilst I live,
+	Into your guiding power. This is the man.
+
+KING	Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife.
+
+BERTRAM	My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness,
+	In such a business give me leave to use
+	The help of mine own eyes.
+
+KING	Know'st thou not, Bertram,
+	What she has done for me?
+
+BERTRAM	Yes, my good lord;
+	But never hope to know why I should marry her.
+
+KING	Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed.
+
+BERTRAM	But follows it, my lord, to bring me down
+	Must answer for your raising? I know her well:
+	She had her breeding at my father's charge.
+	A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain
+	Rather corrupt me ever!
+
+KING	'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which
+	I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods,
+	Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
+	Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off
+	In differences so mighty. If she be
+	All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest,
+	A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest
+	Of virtue for the name: but do not so:
+	From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,
+	The place is dignified by the doer's deed:
+	Where great additions swell's, and virtue none,
+	It is a dropsied honour. Good alone
+	Is good without a name. Vileness is so:
+	The property by what it is should go,
+	Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair;
+	In these to nature she's immediate heir,
+	And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn,
+	Which challenges itself as honour's born
+	And is not like the sire: honours thrive,
+	When rather from our acts we them derive
+	Than our foregoers: the mere word's a slave
+	Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave
+	A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb
+	Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb
+	Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said?
+	If thou canst like this creature as a maid,
+	I can create the rest: virtue and she
+	Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me.
+
+BERTRAM	I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.
+
+KING	Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose.
+
+HELENA	That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad:
+	Let the rest go.
+
+KING	My honour's at the stake; which to defeat,
+	I must produce my power. Here, take her hand,
+	Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift;
+	That dost in vile misprision shackle up
+	My love and her desert; that canst not dream,
+	We, poising us in her defective scale,
+	Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know,
+	It is in us to plant thine honour where
+	We please to have it grow. Cheque thy contempt:
+	Obey our will, which travails in thy good:
+	Believe not thy disdain, but presently
+	Do thine own fortunes that obedient right
+	Which both thy duty owes and our power claims;
+	Or I will throw thee from my care for ever
+	Into the staggers and the careless lapse
+	Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate
+	Loosing upon thee, in the name of justice,
+	Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer.
+
+BERTRAM	Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit
+	My fancy to your eyes: when I consider
+	What great creation and what dole of honour
+	Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late
+	Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now
+	The praised of the king; who, so ennobled,
+	Is as 'twere born so.
+
+KING	Take her by the hand,
+	And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise
+	A counterpoise, if not to thy estate
+	A balance more replete.
+
+BERTRAM	I take her hand.
+
+KING	Good fortune and the favour of the king
+	Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony
+	Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief,
+	And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast
+	Shall more attend upon the coming space,
+	Expecting absent friends. As thou lovest her,
+	Thy love's to me religious; else, does err.
+
+	[Exeunt all but LAFEU and PAROLLES]
+
+LAFEU	[Advancing]  Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you.
+
+PAROLLES	Your pleasure, sir?
+
+LAFEU	Your lord and master did well to make his
+	recantation.
+
+PAROLLES	Recantation! My lord! my master!
+
+LAFEU	Ay; is it not a language I speak?
+
+PAROLLES	A most harsh one, and not to be understood without
+	bloody succeeding. My master!
+
+LAFEU	Are you companion to the Count Rousillon?
+
+PAROLLES	To any count, to all counts, to what is man.
+
+LAFEU	To what is count's man: count's master is of
+	another style.
+
+PAROLLES	You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old.
+
+LAFEU	I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which
+	title age cannot bring thee.
+
+PAROLLES	What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
+
+LAFEU	I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty
+	wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy
+	travel; it might pass: yet the scarfs and the
+	bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from
+	believing thee a vessel of too great a burthen. I
+	have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care
+	not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and
+	that thou't scarce worth.
+
+PAROLLES	Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,--
+
+LAFEU	Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou
+	hasten thy trial; which if--Lord have mercy on thee
+	for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee
+	well: thy casement I need not open, for I look
+	through thee. Give me thy hand.
+
+PAROLLES	My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.
+
+LAFEU	Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it.
+
+PAROLLES	I have not, my lord, deserved it.
+
+LAFEU	Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not
+	bate thee a scruple.
+
+PAROLLES	Well, I shall be wiser.
+
+LAFEU	Even as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at
+	a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound
+	in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is
+	to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold
+	my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge,
+	that I may say in the default, he is a man I know.
+
+PAROLLES	My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.
+
+LAFEU	I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor
+	doing eternal: for doing I am past: as I will by
+	thee, in what motion age will give me leave.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PAROLLES	Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off
+	me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must
+	be patient; there is no fettering of authority.
+	I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with
+	any convenience, an he were double and double a
+	lord. I'll have no more pity of his age than I
+	would of--I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again.
+
+	[Re-enter LAFEU]
+
+LAFEU	Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's news
+	for you: you have a new mistress.
+
+PAROLLES	I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make
+	some reservation of your wrongs: he is my good
+	lord: whom I serve above is my master.
+
+LAFEU	Who? God?
+
+PAROLLES	Ay, sir.
+
+LAFEU	The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou
+	garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of
+	sleeves? do other servants so? Thou wert best set
+	thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine
+	honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'ld beat
+	thee: methinks, thou art a general offence, and
+	every man should beat thee: I think thou wast
+	created for men to breathe themselves upon thee.
+
+PAROLLES	This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.
+
+LAFEU	Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a
+	kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond and
+	no true traveller: you are more saucy with lords
+	and honourable personages than the commission of your
+	birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not
+	worth another word, else I'ld call you knave. I leave you.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PAROLLES	Good, very good; it is so then: good, very good;
+	let it be concealed awhile.
+
+	[Re-enter BERTRAM]
+
+BERTRAM	Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
+
+PAROLLES	What's the matter, sweet-heart?
+
+BERTRAM	Although before the solemn priest I have sworn,
+	I will not bed her.
+
+PAROLLES	What, what, sweet-heart?
+
+BERTRAM	O my Parolles, they have married me!
+	I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.
+
+PAROLLES	France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits
+	The tread of a man's foot: to the wars!
+
+BERTRAM	There's letters from my mother: what the import is,
+	I know not yet.
+
+PAROLLES	Ay, that would be known. To the wars, my boy, to the wars!
+	He wears his honour in a box unseen,
+	That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home,
+	Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
+	Which should sustain the bound and high curvet
+	Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions
+	France is a stable; we that dwell in't jades;
+	Therefore, to the war!
+
+BERTRAM	It shall be so: I'll send her to my house,
+	Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
+	And wherefore I am fled; write to the king
+	That which I durst not speak; his present gift
+	Shall furnish me to those Italian fields,
+	Where noble fellows strike: war is no strife
+	To the dark house and the detested wife.
+
+PAROLLES	Will this capriccio hold in thee? art sure?
+
+BERTRAM	Go with me to my chamber, and advise me.
+	I'll send her straight away: to-morrow
+	I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.
+
+PAROLLES	Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard:
+	A young man married is a man that's marr'd:
+	Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go:
+	The king has done you wrong: but, hush, 'tis so.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Paris. The KING's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter HELENA and Clown]
+
+HELENA	My mother greets me kindly; is she well?
+
+Clown	She is not well; but yet she has her health: she's
+	very merry; but yet she is not well: but thanks be
+	given, she's very well and wants nothing i', the
+	world; but yet she is not well.
+
+HELENA	If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's
+	not very well?
+
+Clown	Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things.
+
+HELENA	What two things?
+
+Clown	One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her
+	quickly! the other that she's in earth, from whence
+	God send her quickly!
+
+	[Enter PAROLLES]
+
+PAROLLES	Bless you, my fortunate lady!
+
+HELENA	I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own
+	good fortunes.
+
+PAROLLES	You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them
+	on, have them still. O, my knave, how does my old lady?
+
+Clown	So that you had her wrinkles and I her money,
+	I would she did as you say.
+
+PAROLLES	Why, I say nothing.
+
+Clown	Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's
+	tongue shakes out his master's undoing: to say
+	nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have
+	nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which
+	is within a very little of nothing.
+
+PAROLLES	Away! thou'rt a knave.
+
+Clown	You should have said, sir, before a knave thou'rt a
+	knave; that's, before me thou'rt a knave: this had
+	been truth, sir.
+
+PAROLLES	Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee.
+
+Clown	Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you
+	taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable;
+	and much fool may you find in you, even to the
+	world's pleasure and the increase of laughter.
+
+PAROLLES	A good knave, i' faith, and well fed.
+	Madam, my lord will go away to-night;
+	A very serious business calls on him.
+	The great prerogative and rite of love,
+	Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge;
+	But puts it off to a compell'd restraint;
+	Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets,
+	Which they distil now in the curbed time,
+	To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy
+	And pleasure drown the brim.
+
+HELENA	What's his will else?
+
+PAROLLES	That you will take your instant leave o' the king
+	And make this haste as your own good proceeding,
+	Strengthen'd with what apology you think
+	May make it probable need.
+
+HELENA	What more commands he?
+
+PAROLLES	That, having this obtain'd, you presently
+	Attend his further pleasure.
+
+HELENA	In every thing I wait upon his will.
+
+PAROLLES	I shall report it so.
+
+HELENA	I pray you.
+
+	[Exit PAROLLES]
+
+	Come, sirrah.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Paris. The KING's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM]
+
+LAFEU	But I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier.
+
+BERTRAM	Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof.
+
+LAFEU	You have it from his own deliverance.
+
+BERTRAM	And by other warranted testimony.
+
+LAFEU	Then my dial goes not true: I took this lark for a bunting.
+
+BERTRAM	I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in
+	knowledge and accordingly valiant.
+
+LAFEU	I have then sinned against his experience and
+	transgressed against his valour; and my state that
+	way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my
+	heart to repent. Here he comes: I pray you, make
+	us friends; I will pursue the amity.
+
+	[Enter PAROLLES]
+
+PAROLLES	[To BERTRAM]  These things shall be done, sir.
+
+LAFEU	Pray you, sir, who's his tailor?
+
+PAROLLES	Sir?
+
+LAFEU	O, I know him well, I, sir; he, sir, 's a good
+	workman, a very good tailor.
+
+BERTRAM	[Aside to PAROLLES]  Is she gone to the king?
+
+PAROLLES	She is.
+
+BERTRAM	Will she away to-night?
+
+PAROLLES	As you'll have her.
+
+BERTRAM	I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure,
+	Given order for our horses; and to-night,
+	When I should take possession of the bride,
+	End ere I do begin.
+
+LAFEU	A good traveller is something at the latter end of a
+	dinner; but one that lies three thirds and uses a
+	known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should
+	be once heard and thrice beaten. God save you, captain.
+
+BERTRAM	Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur?
+
+PAROLLES	I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's
+	displeasure.
+
+LAFEU	You have made shift to run into 't, boots and spurs
+	and all, like him that leaped into the custard; and
+	out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer
+	question for your residence.
+
+BERTRAM	It may be you have mistaken him, my lord.
+
+LAFEU	And shall do so ever, though I took him at 's
+	prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe this
+	of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut; the
+	soul of this man is his clothes. Trust him not in
+	matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them
+	tame, and know their natures. Farewell, monsieur:
+	I have spoken better of you than you have or will to
+	deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PAROLLES	An idle lord. I swear.
+
+BERTRAM	I think so.
+
+PAROLLES	Why, do you not know him?
+
+BERTRAM	Yes, I do know him well, and common speech
+	Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.
+
+	[Enter HELENA]
+
+HELENA	I have, sir, as I was commanded from you,
+	Spoke with the king and have procured his leave
+	For present parting; only he desires
+	Some private speech with you.
+
+BERTRAM	I shall obey his will.
+	You must not marvel, Helen, at my course,
+	Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
+	The ministration and required office
+	On my particular. Prepared I was not
+	For such a business; therefore am I found
+	So much unsettled: this drives me to entreat you
+	That presently you take our way for home;
+	And rather muse than ask why I entreat you,
+	For my respects are better than they seem
+	And my appointments have in them a need
+	Greater than shows itself at the first view
+	To you that know them not. This to my mother:
+
+	[Giving a letter]
+
+	'Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so
+	I leave you to your wisdom.
+
+HELENA	Sir, I can nothing say,
+	But that I am your most obedient servant.
+
+BERTRAM	Come, come, no more of that.
+
+HELENA	And ever shall
+	With true observance seek to eke out that
+	Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd
+	To equal my great fortune.
+
+BERTRAM	Let that go:
+	My haste is very great: farewell; hie home.
+
+HELENA	Pray, sir, your pardon.
+
+BERTRAM	Well, what would you say?
+
+HELENA	I am not worthy of the wealth I owe,
+	Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is;
+	But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal
+	What law does vouch mine own.
+
+BERTRAM	What would you have?
+
+HELENA	Something; and scarce so much: nothing, indeed.
+	I would not tell you what I would, my lord:
+	Faith yes;
+	Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss.
+
+BERTRAM	I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse.
+
+HELENA	I shall not break your bidding, good my lord.
+
+BERTRAM	Where are my other men, monsieur? Farewell.
+
+	[Exit HELENA]
+
+	Go thou toward home; where I will never come
+	Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum.
+	Away, and for our flight.
+
+PAROLLES	Bravely, coragio!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Florence. The DUKE's palace.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence attended;
+	the two Frenchmen, with a troop of soldiers.
+
+DUKE	So that from point to point now have you heard
+	The fundamental reasons of this war,
+	Whose great decision hath much blood let forth
+	And more thirsts after.
+
+First Lord	Holy seems the quarrel
+	Upon your grace's part; black and fearful
+	On the opposer.
+
+DUKE	Therefore we marvel much our cousin France
+	Would in so just a business shut his bosom
+	Against our borrowing prayers.
+
+Second Lord	Good my lord,
+	The reasons of our state I cannot yield,
+	But like a common and an outward man,
+	That the great figure of a council frames
+	By self-unable motion: therefore dare not
+	Say what I think of it, since I have found
+	Myself in my incertain grounds to fail
+	As often as I guess'd.
+
+DUKE	Be it his pleasure.
+
+First Lord	But I am sure the younger of our nature,
+	That surfeit on their ease, will day by day
+	Come here for physic.
+
+DUKE	Welcome shall they be;
+	And all the honours that can fly from us
+	Shall on them settle. You know your places well;
+	When better fall, for your avails they fell:
+	To-morrow to the field.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter COUNTESS and Clown]
+
+COUNTESS	It hath happened all as I would have had it, save
+	that he comes not along with her.
+
+Clown	By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very
+	melancholy man.
+
+COUNTESS	By what observance, I pray you?
+
+Clown	Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend the
+	ruff and sing; ask questions and sing; pick his
+	teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of
+	melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song.
+
+COUNTESS	Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come.
+
+	[Opening a letter]
+
+Clown	I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court: our
+	old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing
+	like your old ling and your Isbels o' the court:
+	the brains of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to
+	love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach.
+
+COUNTESS	What have we here?
+
+Clown	E'en that you have there.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+COUNTESS	[Reads]  I have sent you a daughter-in-law: she hath
+	recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded
+	her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the 'not'
+	eternal. You shall hear I am run away: know it
+	before the report come. If there be breadth enough
+	in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty
+	to you.	Your unfortunate son,
+			     BERTRAM.
+	This is not well, rash and unbridled boy.
+	To fly the favours of so good a king;
+	To pluck his indignation on thy head
+	By the misprising of a maid too virtuous
+	For the contempt of empire.
+
+	[Re-enter Clown]
+
+Clown	O madam, yonder is heavy news within between two
+	soldiers and my young lady!
+
+COUNTESS	What is the matter?
+
+Clown	Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some
+	comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I
+	thought he would.
+
+COUNTESS	Why should he be killed?
+
+Clown	So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does:
+	the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of
+	men, though it be the getting of children. Here
+	they come will tell you more: for my part, I only
+	hear your son was run away.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter HELENA, and two Gentlemen]
+
+First Gentleman	Save you, good madam.
+
+HELENA	Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.
+
+Second Gentleman	Do not say so.
+
+COUNTESS	Think upon patience. Pray you, gentlemen,
+	I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief,
+	That the first face of neither, on the start,
+	Can woman me unto't: where is my son, I pray you?
+
+Second Gentleman	Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence:
+	We met him thitherward; for thence we came,
+	And, after some dispatch in hand at court,
+	Thither we bend again.
+
+HELENA	Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which
+	never shall come off, and show me a child begotten
+	of thy body that I am father to, then call me
+	husband: but in such a 'then' I write a 'never.'
+	This is a dreadful sentence.
+
+COUNTESS	Brought you this letter, gentlemen?
+
+First Gentleman	Ay, madam;
+	And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pain.
+
+COUNTESS	I prithee, lady, have a better cheer;
+	If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,
+	Thou robb'st me of a moiety: he was my son;
+	But I do wash his name out of my blood,
+	And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he?
+
+Second Gentleman	Ay, madam.
+
+COUNTESS	         And to be a soldier?
+
+Second Gentleman	Such is his noble purpose; and believe 't,
+	The duke will lay upon him all the honour
+	That good convenience claims.
+
+COUNTESS	Return you thither?
+
+First Gentleman	Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
+
+HELENA	[Reads]  Till I have no wife I have nothing in France.
+	'Tis bitter.
+
+COUNTESS	                  Find you that there?
+
+HELENA	Ay, madam.
+
+First Gentleman	'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his
+	heart was not consenting to.
+
+COUNTESS	Nothing in France, until he have no wife!
+	There's nothing here that is too good for him
+	But only she; and she deserves a lord
+	That twenty such rude boys might tend upon
+	And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him?
+
+First Gentleman	A servant only, and a gentleman
+	Which I have sometime known.
+
+COUNTESS	Parolles, was it not?
+
+First Gentleman	Ay, my good lady, he.
+
+COUNTESS	A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.
+	My son corrupts a well-derived nature
+	With his inducement.
+
+First Gentleman	Indeed, good lady,
+	The fellow has a deal of that too much,
+	Which holds him much to have.
+
+COUNTESS	You're welcome, gentlemen.
+	I will entreat you, when you see my son,
+	To tell him that his sword can never win
+	The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you
+	Written to bear along.
+
+Second Gentleman	We serve you, madam,
+	In that and all your worthiest affairs.
+
+COUNTESS	Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
+	Will you draw near!
+
+	[Exeunt COUNTESS and Gentlemen]
+
+HELENA	'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.'
+	Nothing in France, until he has no wife!
+	Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France;
+	Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I
+	That chase thee from thy country and expose
+	Those tender limbs of thine to the event
+	Of the none-sparing war? and is it I
+	That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
+	Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark
+	Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers,
+	That ride upon the violent speed of fire,
+	Fly with false aim; move the still-peering air,
+	That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord.
+	Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;
+	Whoever charges on his forward breast,
+	I am the caitiff that do hold him to't;
+	And, though I kill him not, I am the cause
+	His death was so effected: better 'twere
+	I met the ravin lion when he roar'd
+	With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere
+	That all the miseries which nature owes
+	Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon,
+	Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,
+	As oft it loses all: I will be gone;
+	My being here it is that holds thee hence:
+	Shall I stay here to do't?  no, no, although
+	The air of paradise did fan the house
+	And angels officed all: I will be gone,
+	That pitiful rumour may report my flight,
+	To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day!
+	For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Florence. Before the DUKE's palace.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, BERTRAM,
+	PAROLLES, Soldiers, Drum, and Trumpets]
+
+DUKE	The general of our horse thou art; and we,
+	Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence
+	Upon thy promising fortune.
+
+BERTRAM	Sir, it is
+	A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet
+	We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake
+	To the extreme edge of hazard.
+
+DUKE	Then go thou forth;
+	And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm,
+	As thy auspicious mistress!
+
+BERTRAM	This very day,
+	Great Mars, I put myself into thy file:
+	Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove
+	A lover of thy drum, hater of love.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter COUNTESS and Steward]
+
+COUNTESS	Alas! and would you take the letter of her?
+	Might you not know she would do as she has done,
+	By sending me a letter? Read it again.
+
+Steward	[Reads]
+
+	I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone:
+	Ambitious love hath so in me offended,
+	That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon,
+	With sainted vow my faults to have amended.
+	Write, write, that from the bloody course of war
+	My dearest master, your dear son, may hie:
+	Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far
+	His name with zealous fervor sanctify:
+	His taken labours bid him me forgive;
+	I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth
+	From courtly friends, with camping foes to live,
+	Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth:
+	He is too good and fair for death and me:
+	Whom I myself embrace, to set him free.
+
+COUNTESS	Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words!
+	Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much,
+	As letting her pass so: had I spoke with her,
+	I could have well diverted her intents,
+	Which thus she hath prevented.
+
+Steward	Pardon me, madam:
+	If I had given you this at over-night,
+	She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes,
+	Pursuit would be but vain.
+
+COUNTESS	What angel shall
+	Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive,
+	Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear
+	And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath
+	Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo,
+	To this unworthy husband of his wife;
+	Let every word weigh heavy of her worth
+	That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief.
+	Though little he do feel it, set down sharply.
+	Dispatch the most convenient messenger:
+	When haply he shall hear that she is gone,
+	He will return; and hope I may that she,
+	Hearing so much, will speed her foot again,
+	Led hither by pure love: which of them both
+	Is dearest to me. I have no skill in sense
+	To make distinction: provide this messenger:
+	My heart is heavy and mine age is weak;
+	Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Florence. Without the walls. A tucket afar off.
+
+
+	[Enter an old Widow of Florence, DIANA, VIOLENTA,
+	and MARIANA, with other Citizens]
+
+Widow	Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we
+	shall lose all the sight.
+
+DIANA	They say the French count has done most honourable service.
+
+Widow	It is reported that he has taken their greatest
+	commander; and that with his own hand he slew the
+	duke's brother.
+
+	[Tucket]
+
+	We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary
+	way: hark! you may know by their trumpets.
+
+MARIANA	Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with
+	the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this
+	French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and
+	no legacy is so rich as honesty.
+
+Widow	I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited
+	by a gentleman his companion.
+
+MARIANA	I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a
+	filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the
+	young earl. Beware of them, Diana; their promises,
+	enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of
+	lust, are not the things they go under: many a maid
+	hath been seduced by them; and the misery is,
+	example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of
+	maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession,
+	but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten
+	them. I hope I need not to advise you further; but
+	I hope your own grace will keep you where you are,
+	though there were no further danger known but the
+	modesty which is so lost.
+
+DIANA	You shall not need to fear me.
+
+Widow	I hope so.
+
+	[Enter HELENA, disguised like a Pilgrim]
+
+	Look, here comes a pilgrim: I know she will lie at
+	my house; thither they send one another: I'll
+	question her. God save you, pilgrim! whither are you bound?
+
+HELENA	To Saint Jaques le Grand.
+	Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?
+
+Widow	At the Saint Francis here beside the port.
+
+HELENA	Is this the way?
+
+Widow	Ay, marry, is't.
+
+	[A march afar]
+
+	Hark you! they come this way.
+	If you will tarry, holy pilgrim,
+	But till the troops come by,
+	I will conduct you where you shall be lodged;
+	The rather, for I think I know your hostess
+	As ample as myself.
+
+HELENA	Is it yourself?
+
+Widow	If you shall please so, pilgrim.
+
+HELENA	I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure.
+
+Widow	You came, I think, from France?
+
+HELENA	I did so.
+
+Widow	Here you shall see a countryman of yours
+	That has done worthy service.
+
+HELENA	His name, I pray you.
+
+DIANA	The Count Rousillon: know you such a one?
+
+HELENA	But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him:
+	His face I know not.
+
+DIANA	Whatsome'er he is,
+	He's bravely taken here. He stole from France,
+	As 'tis reported, for the king had married him
+	Against his liking: think you it is so?
+
+HELENA	Ay, surely, mere the truth: I know his lady.
+
+DIANA	There is a gentleman that serves the count
+	Reports but coarsely of her.
+
+HELENA	What's his name?
+
+DIANA	Monsieur Parolles.
+
+HELENA	                  O, I believe with him,
+	In argument of praise, or to the worth
+	Of the great count himself, she is too mean
+	To have her name repeated: all her deserving
+	Is a reserved honesty, and that
+	I have not heard examined.
+
+DIANA	Alas, poor lady!
+	'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife
+	Of a detesting lord.
+
+Widow	I warrant, good creature, wheresoe'er she is,
+	Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her
+	A shrewd turn, if she pleased.
+
+HELENA	How do you mean?
+	May be the amorous count solicits her
+	In the unlawful purpose.
+
+Widow	He does indeed;
+	And brokes with all that can in such a suit
+	Corrupt the tender honour of a maid:
+	But she is arm'd for him and keeps her guard
+	In honestest defence.
+
+MARIANA	The gods forbid else!
+
+Widow	So, now they come:
+
+	[Drum and Colours]
+
+	[Enter BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and the whole army]
+
+	That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son;
+	That, Escalus.
+
+HELENA	                  Which is the Frenchman?
+
+DIANA	He;
+	That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow.
+	I would he loved his wife: if he were honester
+	He were much goodlier: is't not a handsome gentleman?
+
+HELENA	I like him well.
+
+DIANA	'Tis pity he is not honest: yond's that same knave
+	That leads him to these places: were I his lady,
+	I would Poison that vile rascal.
+
+HELENA	Which is he?
+
+DIANA	That jack-an-apes with scarfs: why is he melancholy?
+
+HELENA	Perchance he's hurt i' the battle.
+
+PAROLLES	Lose our drum! well.
+
+MARIANA	He's shrewdly vexed at something: look, he has spied us.
+
+Widow	Marry, hang you!
+
+MARIANA	And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier!
+
+	[Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and army]
+
+Widow	The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you
+	Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents
+	There's four or five, to great Saint Jaques bound,
+	Already at my house.
+
+HELENA	I humbly thank you:
+	Please it this matron and this gentle maid
+	To eat with us to-night, the charge and thanking
+	Shall be for me; and, to requite you further,
+	I will bestow some precepts of this virgin
+	Worthy the note.
+
+BOTH	                  We'll take your offer kindly.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Camp before Florence.
+
+
+	[Enter BERTRAM and the two French Lords]
+
+Second Lord	Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his
+	way.
+
+First Lord	If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no
+	more in your respect.
+
+Second Lord	On my life, my lord, a bubble.
+
+BERTRAM	Do you think I am so far deceived in him?
+
+Second Lord	Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge,
+	without any malice, but to speak of him as my
+	kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an infinite and
+	endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner
+	of no one good quality worthy your lordship's
+	entertainment.
+
+First Lord	It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in
+	his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some
+	great and trusty business in a main danger fail you.
+
+BERTRAM	I would I knew in what particular action to try him.
+
+First Lord	None better than to let him fetch off his drum,
+	which you hear him so confidently undertake to do.
+
+Second Lord	I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly
+	surprise him; such I will have, whom I am sure he
+	knows not from the enemy: we will bind and hoodwink
+	him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he
+	is carried into the leaguer of the adversaries, when
+	we bring him to our own tents. Be but your lordship
+	present at his examination: if he do not, for the
+	promise of his life and in the highest compulsion of
+	base fear, offer to betray you and deliver all the
+	intelligence in his power against you, and that with
+	the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never
+	trust my judgment in any thing.
+
+First Lord	O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum;
+	he says he has a stratagem for't: when your
+	lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to
+	what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be
+	melted, if you give him not John Drum's
+	entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed.
+	Here he comes.
+
+	[Enter PAROLLES]
+
+Second Lord	[Aside to BERTRAM]  O, for the love of laughter,
+	hinder not the honour of his design: let him fetch
+	off his drum in any hand.
+
+BERTRAM	How now, monsieur! this drum sticks sorely in your
+	disposition.
+
+First Lord	A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum.
+
+PAROLLES	'But a drum'! is't 'but a drum'? A drum so lost!
+	There was excellent command,--to charge in with our
+	horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers!
+
+First Lord	That was not to be blamed in the command of the
+	service: it was a disaster of war that Caesar
+	himself could not have prevented, if he had been
+	there to command.
+
+BERTRAM	Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some
+	dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is
+	not to be recovered.
+
+PAROLLES	It might have been recovered.
+
+BERTRAM	It might; but it is not now.
+
+PAROLLES	It is to be recovered: but that the merit of
+	service is seldom attributed to the true and exact
+	performer, I would have that drum or another, or
+	'hic jacet.'
+
+BERTRAM	Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur: if you
+	think your mystery in stratagem can bring this
+	instrument of honour again into his native quarter,
+	be magnanimous in the enterprise and go on; I will
+	grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you
+	speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it.
+	and extend to you what further becomes his
+	greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your
+	worthiness.
+
+PAROLLES	By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it.
+
+BERTRAM	But you must not now slumber in it.
+
+PAROLLES	I'll about it this evening: and I will presently
+	pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my
+	certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation;
+	and by midnight look to hear further from me.
+
+BERTRAM	May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are gone about it?
+
+PAROLLES	I know not what the success will be, my lord; but
+	the attempt I vow.
+
+BERTRAM	I know thou'rt valiant; and, to the possibility of
+	thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell.
+
+PAROLLES	I love not many words.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Second Lord	No more than a fish loves water. Is not this a
+	strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems
+	to undertake this business, which he knows is not to
+	be done; damns himself to do and dares better be
+	damned than to do't?
+
+First Lord	You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it
+	is that he will steal himself into a man's favour and
+	for a week escape a great deal of discoveries; but
+	when you find him out, you have him ever after.
+
+BERTRAM	Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of
+	this that so seriously he does address himself unto?
+
+Second Lord	None in the world; but return with an invention and
+	clap upon you two or three probable lies: but we
+	have almost embossed him; you shall see his fall
+	to-night; for indeed he is not for your lordship's respect.
+
+First Lord	We'll make you some sport with the fox ere we case
+	him. He was first smoked by the old lord Lafeu:
+	when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a
+	sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this
+	very night.
+
+Second Lord	I must go look my twigs: he shall be caught.
+
+BERTRAM	Your brother he shall go along with me.
+
+Second Lord	As't please your lordship: I'll leave you.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BERTRAM	Now will I lead you to the house, and show you
+	The lass I spoke of.
+
+First Lord	But you say she's honest.
+
+BERTRAM	That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once
+	And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to her,
+	By this same coxcomb that we have i' the wind,
+	Tokens and letters which she did re-send;
+	And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature:
+	Will you go see her?
+
+First Lord	With all my heart, my lord.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Florence. The Widow's house.
+
+
+	[Enter HELENA and Widow]
+
+HELENA	If you misdoubt me that I am not she,
+	I know not how I shall assure you further,
+	But I shall lose the grounds I work upon.
+
+Widow	Though my estate be fallen, I was well born,
+	Nothing acquainted with these businesses;
+	And would not put my reputation now
+	In any staining act.
+
+HELENA	Nor would I wish you.
+	First, give me trust, the count he is my husband,
+	And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken
+	Is so from word to word; and then you cannot,
+	By the good aid that I of you shall borrow,
+	Err in bestowing it.
+
+Widow	I should believe you:
+	For you have show'd me that which well approves
+	You're great in fortune.
+
+HELENA	Take this purse of gold,
+	And let me buy your friendly help thus far,
+	Which I will over-pay and pay again
+	When I have found it. The count he wooes your daughter,
+	Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty,
+	Resolved to carry her: let her in fine consent,
+	As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it.
+	Now his important blood will nought deny
+	That she'll demand: a ring the county wears,
+	That downward hath succeeded in his house
+	From son to son, some four or five descents
+	Since the first father wore it: this ring he holds
+	In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire,
+	To buy his will, it would not seem too dear,
+	Howe'er repented after.
+
+Widow	Now I see
+	The bottom of your purpose.
+
+HELENA	You see it lawful, then: it is no more,
+	But that your daughter, ere she seems as won,
+	Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter;
+	In fine, delivers me to fill the time,
+	Herself most chastely absent: after this,
+	To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns
+	To what is passed already.
+
+Widow	I have yielded:
+	Instruct my daughter how she shall persever,
+	That time and place with this deceit so lawful
+	May prove coherent. Every night he comes
+	With musics of all sorts and songs composed
+	To her unworthiness: it nothing steads us
+	To chide him from our eaves; for he persists
+	As if his life lay on't.
+
+HELENA	Why then to-night
+	Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed,
+	Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed
+	And lawful meaning in a lawful act,
+	Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact:
+	But let's about it.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Without the Florentine camp.
+
+
+	[Enter Second French Lord, with five or six other
+	Soldiers in ambush]
+
+Second Lord	He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner.
+	When you sally upon him, speak what terrible
+	language you will: though you understand it not
+	yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to
+	understand him, unless some one among us whom we
+	must produce for an interpreter.
+
+First Soldier	Good captain, let me be the interpreter.
+
+Second Lord	Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice?
+
+First Soldier	No, sir, I warrant you.
+
+Second Lord	But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us again?
+
+First Soldier	E'en such as you speak to me.
+
+Second Lord	He must think us some band of strangers i' the
+	adversary's entertainment. Now he hath a smack of
+	all neighbouring languages; therefore we must every
+	one be a man of his own fancy, not to know what we
+	speak one to another; so we seem to know, is to
+	know straight our purpose: choughs' language,
+	gabble enough, and good enough. As for you,
+	interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch,
+	ho! here he comes, to beguile two hours in a sleep,
+	and then to return and swear the lies he forges.
+
+	[Enter PAROLLES]
+
+PAROLLES	Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be
+	time enough to go home. What shall I say I have
+	done? It must be a very plausive invention that
+	carries it: they begin to smoke me; and disgraces
+	have of late knocked too often at my door. I find
+	my tongue is too foolhardy; but my heart hath the
+	fear of Mars before it and of his creatures, not
+	daring the reports of my tongue.
+
+Second Lord	This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue
+	was guilty of.
+
+PAROLLES	What the devil should move me to undertake the
+	recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the
+	impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I
+	must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in
+	exploit: yet slight ones will not carry it; they
+	will say, 'Came you off with so little?' and great
+	ones I dare not give. Wherefore, what's the
+	instance? Tongue, I must put you into a
+	butter-woman's mouth and buy myself another of
+	Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils.
+
+Second Lord	Is it possible he should know what he is, and be
+	that he is?
+
+PAROLLES	I would the cutting of my garments would serve the
+	turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword.
+
+Second Lord	We cannot afford you so.
+
+PAROLLES	Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in
+	stratagem.
+
+Second Lord	'Twould not do.
+
+PAROLLES	Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped.
+
+Second Lord	Hardly serve.
+
+PAROLLES	Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel.
+
+Second Lord	How deep?
+
+PAROLLES	Thirty fathom.
+
+Second Lord	Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed.
+
+PAROLLES	I would I had any drum of the enemy's: I would swear
+	I recovered it.
+
+Second Lord	You shall hear one anon.
+
+PAROLLES	A drum now of the enemy's,--
+
+	[Alarum within]
+
+Second Lord	Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.
+
+All	Cargo, cargo, cargo, villiando par corbo, cargo.
+
+PAROLLES	O, ransom, ransom! do not hide mine eyes.
+
+	[They seize and blindfold him]
+
+First Soldier	Boskos thromuldo boskos.
+
+PAROLLES	I know you are the Muskos' regiment:
+	And I shall lose my life for want of language;
+	If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch,
+	Italian, or French, let him speak to me; I'll
+	Discover that which shall undo the Florentine.
+
+First Soldier	Boskos vauvado: I understand thee, and can speak
+	thy tongue. Kerely bonto, sir, betake thee to thy
+	faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy bosom.
+
+PAROLLES	O!
+
+First Soldier	O, pray, pray, pray! Manka revania dulche.
+
+Second Lord	Oscorbidulchos volivorco.
+
+First Soldier	The general is content to spare thee yet;
+	And, hoodwink'd as thou art, will lead thee on
+	To gather from thee: haply thou mayst inform
+	Something to save thy life.
+
+PAROLLES	O, let me live!
+	And all the secrets of our camp I'll show,
+	Their force, their purposes; nay, I'll speak that
+	Which you will wonder at.
+
+First Soldier	But wilt thou faithfully?
+
+PAROLLES	If I do not, damn me.
+
+First Soldier	Acordo linta.
+	Come on; thou art granted space.
+
+	[Exit, with PAROLLES guarded. A short alarum within]
+
+Second Lord	Go, tell the Count Rousillon, and my brother,
+	We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled
+	Till we do hear from them.
+
+Second Soldier	Captain, I will.
+
+Second Lord	A' will betray us all unto ourselves:
+	Inform on that.
+
+Second Soldier	                  So I will, sir.
+
+Second Lord	Till then I'll keep him dark and safely lock'd.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Florence. The Widow's house.
+
+
+	[Enter BERTRAM and DIANA]
+
+BERTRAM	They told me that your name was Fontibell.
+
+DIANA	No, my good lord, Diana.
+
+BERTRAM	Titled goddess;
+	And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul,
+	In your fine frame hath love no quality?
+	If quick fire of youth light not your mind,
+	You are no maiden, but a monument:
+	When you are dead, you should be such a one
+	As you are now, for you are cold and stem;
+	And now you should be as your mother was
+	When your sweet self was got.
+
+DIANA	She then was honest.
+
+BERTRAM	So should you be.
+
+DIANA	No:
+	My mother did but duty; such, my lord,
+	As you owe to your wife.
+
+BERTRAM	No more o' that;
+	I prithee, do not strive against my vows:
+	I was compell'd to her; but I love thee
+	By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever
+	Do thee all rights of service.
+
+DIANA	Ay, so you serve us
+	Till we serve you; but when you have our roses,
+	You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves
+	And mock us with our bareness.
+
+BERTRAM	How have I sworn!
+
+DIANA	'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth,
+	But the plain single vow that is vow'd true.
+	What is not holy, that we swear not by,
+	But take the High'st to witness: then, pray you, tell me,
+	If I should swear by God's great attributes,
+	I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths,
+	When I did love you ill? This has no holding,
+	To swear by him whom I protest to love,
+	That I will work against him: therefore your oaths
+	Are words and poor conditions, but unseal'd,
+	At least in my opinion.
+
+BERTRAM	Change it, change it;
+	Be not so holy-cruel: love is holy;
+	And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts
+	That you do charge men with. Stand no more off,
+	But give thyself unto my sick desires,
+	Who then recover: say thou art mine, and ever
+	My love as it begins shall so persever.
+
+DIANA	I see that men make ropes in such a scarre
+	That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring.
+
+BERTRAM	I'll lend it thee, my dear; but have no power
+	To give it from me.
+
+DIANA	Will you not, my lord?
+
+BERTRAM	It is an honour 'longing to our house,
+	Bequeathed down from many ancestors;
+	Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world
+	In me to lose.
+
+DIANA	                  Mine honour's such a ring:
+	My chastity's the jewel of our house,
+	Bequeathed down from many ancestors;
+	Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world
+	In me to lose: thus your own proper wisdom
+	Brings in the champion Honour on my part,
+	Against your vain assault.
+
+BERTRAM	Here, take my ring:
+	My house, mine honour, yea, my life, be thine,
+	And I'll be bid by thee.
+
+DIANA	When midnight comes, knock at my chamber-window:
+	I'll order take my mother shall not hear.
+	Now will I charge you in the band of truth,
+	When you have conquer'd my yet maiden bed,
+	Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me:
+	My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them
+	When back again this ring shall be deliver'd:
+	And on your finger in the night I'll put
+	Another ring, that what in time proceeds
+	May token to the future our past deeds.
+	Adieu, till then; then, fail not. You have won
+	A wife of me, though there my hope be done.
+
+BERTRAM	A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DIANA	For which live long to thank both heaven and me!
+	You may so in the end.
+	My mother told me just how he would woo,
+	As if she sat in 's heart; she says all men
+	Have the like oaths: he had sworn to marry me
+	When his wife's dead; therefore I'll lie with him
+	When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid,
+	Marry that will, I live and die a maid:
+	Only in this disguise I think't no sin
+	To cozen him that would unjustly win.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The Florentine camp.
+
+
+	[Enter the two French Lords and some two or three Soldiers]
+
+First Lord	You have not given him his mother's letter?
+
+Second Lord	I have delivered it an hour since: there is
+	something in't that stings his nature; for on the
+	reading it he changed almost into another man.
+
+First Lord	He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking
+	off so good a wife and so sweet a lady.
+
+Second Lord	Especially he hath incurred the everlasting
+	displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his
+	bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a
+	thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you.
+
+First Lord	When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the
+	grave of it.
+
+Second Lord	He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in
+	Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this night he
+	fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour: he hath
+	given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself
+	made in the unchaste composition.
+
+First Lord	Now, God delay our rebellion! as we are ourselves,
+	what things are we!
+
+Second Lord	Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course
+	of all treasons, we still see them reveal
+	themselves, till they attain to their abhorred ends,
+	so he that in this action contrives against his own
+	nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself.
+
+First Lord	Is it not meant damnable in us, to be trumpeters of
+	our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his
+	company to-night?
+
+Second Lord	Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour.
+
+First Lord	That approaches apace; I would gladly have him see
+	his company anatomized, that he might take a measure
+	of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had
+	set this counterfeit.
+
+Second Lord	We will not meddle with him till he come; for his
+	presence must be the whip of the other.
+
+First Lord	In the mean time, what hear you of these wars?
+
+Second Lord	I hear there is an overture of peace.
+
+First Lord	Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.
+
+Second Lord	What will Count Rousillon do then? will he travel
+	higher, or return again into France?
+
+First Lord	I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether
+	of his council.
+
+Second Lord	Let it be forbid, sir; so should I be a great deal
+	of his act.
+
+First Lord	Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his
+	house: her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques
+	le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere
+	sanctimony she accomplished; and, there residing the
+	tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her
+	grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and
+	now she sings in heaven.
+
+Second Lord	How is this justified?
+
+First Lord	The stronger part of it by her own letters, which
+	makes her story true, even to the point of her
+	death: her death itself, which could not be her
+	office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by
+	the rector of the place.
+
+Second Lord	Hath the count all this intelligence?
+
+First Lord	Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from
+	point, so to the full arming of the verity.
+
+Second Lord	I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this.
+
+First Lord	How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses!
+
+Second Lord	And how mightily some other times we drown our gain
+	in tears! The great dignity that his valour hath
+	here acquired for him shall at home be encountered
+	with a shame as ample.
+
+First Lord	The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and
+	ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our
+	faults whipped them not; and our crimes would
+	despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+	How now! where's your master?
+
+Servant	He met the duke in the street, sir, of whom he hath
+	taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next
+	morning for France. The duke hath offered him
+	letters of commendations to the king.
+
+Second Lord	They shall be no more than needful there, if they
+	were more than they can commend.
+
+First Lord	They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness.
+	Here's his lordship now.
+
+	[Enter BERTRAM]
+
+	How now, my lord! is't not after midnight?
+
+BERTRAM	I have to-night dispatched sixteen businesses, a
+	month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success:
+	I have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his
+	nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my
+	lady mother I am returning; entertained my convoy;
+	and between these main parcels of dispatch effected
+	many nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but
+	that I have not ended yet.
+
+Second Lord	If the business be of any difficulty, and this
+	morning your departure hence, it requires haste of
+	your lordship.
+
+BERTRAM	I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to
+	hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this
+	dialogue between the fool and the soldier? Come,
+	bring forth this counterfeit module, he has deceived
+	me, like a double-meaning prophesier.
+
+Second Lord	Bring him forth: has sat i' the stocks all night,
+	poor gallant knave.
+
+BERTRAM	No matter: his heels have deserved it, in usurping
+	his spurs so long. How does he carry himself?
+
+Second Lord	I have told your lordship already, the stocks carry
+	him. But to answer you as you would be understood;
+	he weeps like a wench that had shed her milk: he
+	hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes
+	to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance to
+	this very instant disaster of his setting i' the
+	stocks: and what think you he hath confessed?
+
+BERTRAM	Nothing of me, has a'?
+
+Second Lord	His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his
+	face: if your lordship be in't, as I believe you
+	are, you must have the patience to hear it.
+
+	[Enter PAROLLES guarded, and First Soldier]
+
+BERTRAM	A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of
+	me: hush, hush!
+
+First Lord	Hoodman comes! Portotartarosa
+
+First Soldier	He calls for the tortures: what will you say
+	without 'em?
+
+PAROLLES	I will confess what I know without constraint: if
+	ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more.
+
+First Soldier	Bosko chimurcho.
+
+First Lord	Boblibindo chicurmurco.
+
+First Soldier	You are a merciful general. Our general bids you
+	answer to what I shall ask you out of a note.
+
+PAROLLES	And truly, as I hope to live.
+
+First Soldier	[Reads]  'First demand of him how many horse the
+	duke is strong.' What say you to that?
+
+PAROLLES	Five or six thousand; but very weak and
+	unserviceable: the troops are all scattered, and
+	the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation
+	and credit and as I hope to live.
+
+First Soldier	Shall I set down your answer so?
+
+PAROLLES	Do: I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which way you will.
+
+BERTRAM	All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this!
+
+First Lord	You're deceived, my lord: this is Monsieur
+	Parolles, the gallant militarist,--that was his own
+	phrase,--that had the whole theoric of war in the
+	knot of his scarf, and the practise in the chape of
+	his dagger.
+
+Second Lord	I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword
+	clean. nor believe he can have every thing in him
+	by wearing his apparel neatly.
+
+First Soldier	Well, that's set down.
+
+PAROLLES	Five or six thousand horse, I said,-- I will say
+	true,--or thereabouts, set down, for I'll speak truth.
+
+First Lord	He's very near the truth in this.
+
+BERTRAM	But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he
+	delivers it.
+
+PAROLLES	Poor rogues, I pray you, say.
+
+First Soldier	Well, that's set down.
+
+PAROLLES	I humbly thank you, sir: a truth's a truth, the
+	rogues are marvellous poor.
+
+First Soldier	[Reads]  'Demand of him, of what strength they are
+	a-foot.' What say you to that?
+
+PAROLLES	By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present
+	hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a
+	hundred and fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so
+	many; Jaques, so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick,
+	and Gratii, two hundred and fifty each; mine own
+	company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and
+	fifty each: so that the muster-file, rotten and
+	sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand
+	poll; half of the which dare not shake snow from off
+	their cassocks, lest they shake themselves to pieces.
+
+BERTRAM	What shall be done to him?
+
+First Lord	Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my
+	condition, and what credit I have with the duke.
+
+First Soldier	Well, that's set down.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'You shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain
+	be i' the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is
+	with the duke; what his valour, honesty, and
+	expertness in wars; or whether he thinks it were not
+	possible, with well-weighing sums of gold, to
+	corrupt him to revolt.' What say you to this? what
+	do you know of it?
+
+PAROLLES	I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of
+	the inter'gatories: demand them singly.
+
+First Soldier	Do you know this Captain Dumain?
+
+PAROLLES	I know him: a' was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris,
+	from whence he was whipped for getting the shrieve's
+	fool with child,--a dumb innocent, that could not
+	say him nay.
+
+BERTRAM	Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know
+	his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.
+
+First Soldier	Well, is this captain in the duke of Florence's camp?
+
+PAROLLES	Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy.
+
+First Lord	Nay look not so upon me; we shall hear of your
+	lordship anon.
+
+First Soldier	What is his reputation with the duke?
+
+PAROLLES	The duke knows him for no other but a poor officer
+	of mine; and writ to me this other day to turn him
+	out o' the band: I think I have his letter in my pocket.
+
+First Soldier	Marry, we'll search.
+
+PAROLLES	In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there,
+	or it is upon a file with the duke's other letters
+	in my tent.
+
+First Soldier	Here 'tis; here's a paper: shall I read it to you?
+
+PAROLLES	I do not know if it be it or no.
+
+BERTRAM	Our interpreter does it well.
+
+First Lord	Excellently.
+
+First Soldier	[Reads]  'Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold,'--
+
+PAROLLES	That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an
+	advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one
+	Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one Count
+	Rousillon, a foolish idle boy, but for all that very
+	ruttish: I pray you, sir, put it up again.
+
+First Soldier	Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour.
+
+PAROLLES	My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the
+	behalf of the maid; for I knew the young count to be
+	a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to
+	virginity and devours up all the fry it finds.
+
+BERTRAM	Damnable both-sides rogue!
+
+First Soldier	[Reads]  'When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it;
+	After he scores, he never pays the score:
+	Half won is match well made; match, and well make it;
+	He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before;
+	And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this,
+	Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss:
+	For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it,
+	Who pays before, but not when he does owe it.
+	Thine, as he vowed to thee in thine ear,
+			  PAROLLES.'
+
+BERTRAM	He shall be whipped through the army with this rhyme
+	in's forehead.
+
+Second Lord	This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold
+	linguist and the armipotent soldier.
+
+BERTRAM	I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now
+	he's a cat to me.
+
+First Soldier	I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, we shall be
+	fain to hang you.
+
+PAROLLES	My life, sir, in any case: not that I am afraid to
+	die; but that, my offences being many, I would
+	repent out the remainder of nature: let me live,
+	sir, in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or any where, so I may live.
+
+First Soldier	We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely;
+	therefore, once more to this Captain Dumain: you
+	have answered to his reputation with the duke and to
+	his valour: what is his honesty?
+
+PAROLLES	He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister: for
+	rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus: he
+	professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking 'em he
+	is stronger than Hercules: he will lie, sir, with
+	such volubility, that you would think truth were a
+	fool: drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will
+	be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little
+	harm, save to his bed-clothes about him; but they
+	know his conditions and lay him in straw. I have but
+	little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has
+	every thing that an honest man should not have; what
+	an honest man should have, he has nothing.
+
+First Lord	I begin to love him for this.
+
+BERTRAM	For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon
+	him for me, he's more and more a cat.
+
+First Soldier	What say you to his expertness in war?
+
+PAROLLES	Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the English
+	tragedians; to belie him, I will not, and more of
+	his soldiership I know not; except, in that country
+	he had the honour to be the officer at a place there
+	called Mile-end, to instruct for the doubling of
+	files: I would do the man what honour I can, but of
+	this I am not certain.
+
+First Lord	He hath out-villained villany so far, that the
+	rarity redeems him.
+
+BERTRAM	A pox on him, he's a cat still.
+
+First Soldier	His qualities being at this poor price, I need not
+	to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt.
+
+PAROLLES	Sir, for a quart d'ecu he will sell the fee-simple
+	of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the
+	entail from all remainders, and a perpetual
+	succession for it perpetually.
+
+First Soldier	What's his brother, the other Captain Dumain?
+
+Second Lord	Why does be ask him of me?
+
+First Soldier	What's he?
+
+PAROLLES	E'en a crow o' the same nest; not altogether so
+	great as the first in goodness, but greater a great
+	deal in evil: he excels his brother for a coward,
+	yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is:
+	in a retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming
+	on he has the cramp.
+
+First Soldier	If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray
+	the Florentine?
+
+PAROLLES	Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Rousillon.
+
+First Soldier	I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure.
+
+PAROLLES	[Aside]  I'll no more drumming; a plague of all
+	drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to
+	beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy
+	the count, have I run into this danger. Yet who
+	would have suspected an ambush where I was taken?
+
+First Soldier	There is no remedy, sir, but you must die: the
+	general says, you that have so traitorously
+	discovered the secrets of your army and made such
+	pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can
+	serve the world for no honest use; therefore you
+	must die. Come, headsman, off with his head.
+
+PAROLLES	O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death!
+
+First Lord	That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends.
+
+	[Unblinding him]
+
+	So, look about you: know you any here?
+
+BERTRAM	Good morrow, noble captain.
+
+Second Lord	God bless you, Captain Parolles.
+
+First Lord	God save you, noble captain.
+
+Second Lord	Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu?
+	I am for France.
+
+First Lord	Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet
+	you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count Rousillon?
+	an I were not a very coward, I'ld compel it of you:
+	but fare you well.
+
+	[Exeunt BERTRAM and Lords]
+
+First Soldier	You are undone, captain, all but your scarf; that
+	has a knot on't yet
+
+PAROLLES	Who cannot be crushed with a plot?
+
+First Soldier	If you could find out a country where but women were
+	that had received so much shame, you might begin an
+	impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir; I am for France
+	too: we shall speak of you there.
+
+	[Exit with Soldiers]
+
+PAROLLES	Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great,
+	'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more;
+	But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft
+	As captain shall: simply the thing I am
+	Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,
+	Let him fear this, for it will come to pass
+	that every braggart shall be found an ass.
+	Rust, sword? cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live
+	Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive!
+	There's place and means for every man alive.
+	I'll after them.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Florence. The Widow's house.
+
+
+	[Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA]
+
+HELENA	That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you,
+	One of the greatest in the Christian world
+	Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 'tis needful,
+	Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel:
+	Time was, I did him a desired office,
+	Dear almost as his life; which gratitude
+	Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth,
+	And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd
+	His grace is at Marseilles; to which place
+	We have convenient convoy. You must know
+	I am supposed dead: the army breaking,
+	My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding,
+	And by the leave of my good lord the king,
+	We'll be before our welcome.
+
+Widow	Gentle madam,
+	You never had a servant to whose trust
+	Your business was more welcome.
+
+HELENA	Nor you, mistress,
+	Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour
+	To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven
+	Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower,
+	As it hath fated her to be my motive
+	And helper to a husband. But, O strange men!
+	That can such sweet use make of what they hate,
+	When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts
+	Defiles the pitchy night: so lust doth play
+	With what it loathes for that which is away.
+	But more of this hereafter. You, Diana,
+	Under my poor instructions yet must suffer
+	Something in my behalf.
+
+DIANA	Let death and honesty
+	Go with your impositions, I am yours
+	Upon your will to suffer.
+
+HELENA	Yet, I pray you:
+	But with the word the time will bring on summer,
+	When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns,
+	And be as sweet as sharp. We must away;
+	Our wagon is prepared, and time revives us:
+	All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown;
+	Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and Clown]
+
+LAFEU	No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta
+	fellow there, whose villanous saffron would have
+	made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in
+	his colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at
+	this hour, and your son here at home, more advanced
+	by the king than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of.
+
+COUNTESS	I would I had not known him; it was the death of the
+	most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had
+	praise for creating. If she had partaken of my
+	flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I
+	could not have owed her a more rooted love.
+
+LAFEU	'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a
+	thousand salads ere we light on such another herb.
+
+Clown	Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the
+	salad, or rather, the herb of grace.
+
+LAFEU	They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs.
+
+Clown	I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much
+	skill in grass.
+
+LAFEU	Whether dost thou profess thyself, a knave or a fool?
+
+Clown	A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's.
+
+LAFEU	Your distinction?
+
+Clown	I would cozen the man of his wife and do his service.
+
+LAFEU	So you were a knave at his service, indeed.
+
+Clown	And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service.
+
+LAFEU	I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave and fool.
+
+Clown	At your service.
+
+LAFEU	No, no, no.
+
+Clown	Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as
+	great a prince as you are.
+
+LAFEU	Who's that? a Frenchman?
+
+Clown	Faith, sir, a' has an English name; but his fisnomy
+	is more hotter in France than there.
+
+LAFEU	What prince is that?
+
+Clown	The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of
+	darkness; alias, the devil.
+
+LAFEU	Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this
+	to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of;
+	serve him still.
+
+Clown	I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a
+	great fire; and the master I speak of ever keeps a
+	good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the
+	world; let his nobility remain in's court. I am for
+	the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be
+	too little for pomp to enter: some that humble
+	themselves may; but the many will be too chill and
+	tender, and they'll be for the flowery way that
+	leads to the broad gate and the great fire.
+
+LAFEU	Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and I
+	tell thee so before, because I would not fall out
+	with thee. Go thy ways: let my horses be well
+	looked to, without any tricks.
+
+Clown	If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be
+	jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LAFEU	A shrewd knave and an unhappy.
+
+COUNTESS	So he is. My lord that's gone made himself much
+	sport out of him: by his authority he remains here,
+	which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and,
+	indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will.
+
+LAFEU	I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about to
+	tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death and
+	that my lord your son was upon his return home, I
+	moved the king my master to speak in the behalf of
+	my daughter; which, in the minority of them both,
+	his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did
+	first propose: his highness hath promised me to do
+	it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath
+	conceived against your son, there is no fitter
+	matter. How does your ladyship like it?
+
+COUNTESS	With very much content, my lord; and I wish it
+	happily effected.
+
+LAFEU	His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able
+	body as when he numbered thirty: he will be here
+	to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such
+	intelligence hath seldom failed.
+
+COUNTESS	It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I
+	die. I have letters that my son will be here
+	to-night: I shall beseech your lordship to remain
+	with me till they meet together.
+
+LAFEU	Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might
+	safely be admitted.
+
+COUNTESS	You need but plead your honourable privilege.
+
+LAFEU	Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but I
+	thank my God it holds yet.
+
+	[Re-enter Clown]
+
+Clown	O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of
+	velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under't
+	or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of
+	velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a
+	half, but his right cheek is worn bare.
+
+LAFEU	A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery
+	of honour; so belike is that.
+
+Clown	But it is your carbonadoed face.
+
+LAFEU	Let us go see your son, I pray you: I long to talk
+	with the young noble soldier.
+
+Clown	Faith there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine
+	hats and most courteous feathers, which bow the head
+	and nod at every man.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+SCENE I	Marseilles. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two
+	Attendants]
+
+HELENA	But this exceeding posting day and night
+	Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it:
+	But since you have made the days and nights as one,
+	To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
+	Be bold you do so grow in my requital
+	As nothing can unroot you. In happy time;
+
+	[Enter a Gentleman]
+
+	This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
+	If he would spend his power. God save you, sir.
+
+Gentleman	And you.
+
+HELENA	Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.
+
+Gentleman	I have been sometimes there.
+
+HELENA	I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen
+	From the report that goes upon your goodness;
+	An therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions,
+	Which lay nice manners by, I put you to
+	The use of your own virtues, for the which
+	I shall continue thankful.
+
+Gentleman	What's your will?
+
+HELENA	That it will please you
+	To give this poor petition to the king,
+	And aid me with that store of power you have
+	To come into his presence.
+
+Gentleman	The king's not here.
+
+HELENA	Not here, sir!
+
+Gentleman	Not, indeed:
+	He hence removed last night and with more haste
+	Than is his use.
+
+Widow	                  Lord, how we lose our pains!
+
+HELENA	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL yet,
+	Though time seem so adverse and means unfit.
+	I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
+
+Gentleman	Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon;
+	Whither I am going.
+
+HELENA	I do beseech you, sir,
+	Since you are like to see the king before me,
+	Commend the paper to his gracious hand,
+	Which I presume shall render you no blame
+	But rather make you thank your pains for it.
+	I will come after you with what good speed
+	Our means will make us means.
+
+Gentleman	This I'll do for you.
+
+HELENA	And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd,
+	Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again.
+	Go, go, provide.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Rousillon. Before the COUNT's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter Clown, and PAROLLES, following]
+
+PAROLLES	Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this
+	letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to
+	you, when I have held familiarity with fresher
+	clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's
+	mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong
+	displeasure.
+
+Clown	Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it
+	smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will
+	henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering.
+	Prithee, allow the wind.
+
+PAROLLES	Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake
+	but by a metaphor.
+
+Clown	Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my
+	nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get
+	thee further.
+
+PAROLLES	Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.
+
+Clown	Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's
+	close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he
+	comes himself.
+
+	[Enter LAFEU]
+
+	Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's
+	cat,--but not a musk-cat,--that has fallen into the
+	unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he
+	says, is muddied withal: pray you, sir, use the
+	carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed,
+	ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his
+	distress in my similes of comfort and leave him to
+	your lordship.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PAROLLES	My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly
+	scratched.
+
+LAFEU	And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to
+	pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the
+	knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who
+	of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves
+	thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for
+	you: let the justices make you and fortune friends:
+	I am for other business.
+
+PAROLLES	I beseech your honour to hear me one single word.
+
+LAFEU	You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't;
+	save your word.
+
+PAROLLES	My name, my good lord, is Parolles.
+
+LAFEU	You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion!
+	give me your hand. How does your drum?
+
+PAROLLES	O my good lord, you were the first that found me!
+
+LAFEU	Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee.
+
+PAROLLES	It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace,
+	for you did bring me out.
+
+LAFEU	Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once
+	both the office of God and the devil? One brings
+	thee in grace and the other brings thee out.
+
+	[Trumpets sound]
+
+	The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah,
+	inquire further after me; I had talk of you last
+	night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall
+	eat; go to, follow.
+
+PAROLLES	I praise God for you.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Rousillon. The COUNT's palace.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, the two
+	French Lords, with Attendants]
+
+KING	We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem
+	Was made much poorer by it: but your son,
+	As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know
+	Her estimation home.
+
+COUNTESS	'Tis past, my liege;
+	And I beseech your majesty to make it
+	Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth;
+	When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,
+	O'erbears it and burns on.
+
+KING	My honour'd lady,
+	I have forgiven and forgotten all;
+	Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
+	And watch'd the time to shoot.
+
+LAFEU	This I must say,
+	But first I beg my pardon, the young lord
+	Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady
+	Offence of mighty note; but to himself
+	The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife
+	Whose beauty did astonish the survey
+	Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive,
+	Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve
+	Humbly call'd mistress.
+
+KING	Praising what is lost
+	Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither;
+	We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill
+	All repetition: let him not ask our pardon;
+	The nature of his great offence is dead,
+	And deeper than oblivion we do bury
+	The incensing relics of it: let him approach,
+	A stranger, no offender; and inform him
+	So 'tis our will he should.
+
+Gentleman	I shall, my liege.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING	What says he to your daughter? have you spoke?
+
+LAFEU	All that he is hath reference to your highness.
+
+KING	Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me
+	That set him high in fame.
+
+	[Enter BERTRAM]
+
+LAFEU	He looks well on't.
+
+KING	I am not a day of season,
+	For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail
+	In me at once: but to the brightest beams
+	Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth;
+	The time is fair again.
+
+BERTRAM	My high-repented blames,
+	Dear sovereign, pardon to me.
+
+KING	All is whole;
+	Not one word more of the consumed time.
+	Let's take the instant by the forward top;
+	For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
+	The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time
+	Steals ere we can effect them. You remember
+	The daughter of this lord?
+
+BERTRAM	Admiringly, my liege, at first
+	I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
+	Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue
+	Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
+	Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
+	Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
+	Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen;
+	Extended or contracted all proportions
+	To a most hideous object: thence it came
+	That she whom all men praised and whom myself,
+	Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye
+	The dust that did offend it.
+
+KING	Well excused:
+	That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away
+	From the great compt: but love that comes too late,
+	Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
+	To the great sender turns a sour offence,
+	Crying, 'That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults
+	Make trivial price of serious things we have,
+	Not knowing them until we know their grave:
+	Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
+	Destroy our friends and after weep their dust
+	Our own love waking cries to see what's done,
+	While shame full late sleeps out the afternoon.
+	Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her.
+	Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin:
+	The main consents are had; and here we'll stay
+	To see our widower's second marriage-day.
+
+COUNTESS	Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless!
+	Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse!
+
+LAFEU	Come on, my son, in whom my house's name
+	Must be digested, give a favour from you
+	To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter,
+	That she may quickly come.
+
+	[BERTRAM gives a ring]
+
+		     By my old beard,
+	And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead,
+	Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this,
+	The last that e'er I took her at court,
+	I saw upon her finger.
+
+BERTRAM	Hers it was not.
+
+KING	Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye,
+	While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't.
+	This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen,
+	I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood
+	Necessitied to help, that by this token
+	I would relieve her. Had you that craft, to reave
+	her
+	Of what should stead her most?
+
+BERTRAM	My gracious sovereign,
+	Howe'er it pleases you to take it so,
+	The ring was never hers.
+
+COUNTESS	Son, on my life,
+	I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it
+	At her life's rate.
+
+LAFEU	I am sure I saw her wear it.
+
+BERTRAM	You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it:
+	In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
+	Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name
+	Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought
+	I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed
+	To mine own fortune and inform'd her fully
+	I could not answer in that course of honour
+	As she had made the overture, she ceased
+	In heavy satisfaction and would never
+	Receive the ring again.
+
+KING	Plutus himself,
+	That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,
+	Hath not in nature's mystery more science
+	Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's,
+	Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know
+	That you are well acquainted with yourself,
+	Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
+	You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety
+	That she would never put it from her finger,
+	Unless she gave it to yourself in bed,
+	Where you have never come, or sent it us
+	Upon her great disaster.
+
+BERTRAM	She never saw it.
+
+KING	Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour;
+	And makest conjectural fears to come into me
+	Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove
+	That thou art so inhuman,--'twill not prove so;--
+	And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly,
+	And she is dead; which nothing, but to close
+	Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,
+	More than to see this ring. Take him away.
+
+	[Guards seize BERTRAM]
+
+	My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
+	Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
+	Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him!
+	We'll sift this matter further.
+
+BERTRAM	If you shall prove
+	This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy
+	Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
+	Where yet she never was.
+
+	[Exit, guarded]
+
+KING	I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.
+
+	[Enter a Gentleman]
+
+Gentleman	Gracious sovereign,
+	Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not:
+	Here's a petition from a Florentine,
+	Who hath for four or five removes come short
+	To tender it herself. I undertook it,
+	Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech
+	Of the poor suppliant, who by this I know
+	Is here attending: her business looks in her
+	With an importing visage; and she told me,
+	In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern
+	Your highness with herself.
+
+KING	[Reads]  Upon his many protestations to marry me
+	when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won
+	me. Now is the Count Rousillon a widower: his vows
+	are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He
+	stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow
+	him to his country for justice: grant it me, O
+	king! in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer
+	flourishes, and a poor maid is undone.
+		                  DIANA CAPILET.
+
+LAFEU	I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for
+	this: I'll none of him.
+
+KING	The heavens have thought well on thee Lafeu,
+	To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors:
+	Go speedily and bring again the count.
+	I am afeard the life of Helen, lady,
+	Was foully snatch'd.
+
+COUNTESS	Now, justice on the doers!
+
+	[Re-enter BERTRAM, guarded]
+
+KING	I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you,
+	And that you fly them as you swear them lordship,
+	Yet you desire to marry.
+
+	[Enter Widow and DIANA]
+
+		   What woman's that?
+
+DIANA	I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
+	Derived from the ancient Capilet:
+	My suit, as I do understand, you know,
+	And therefore know how far I may be pitied.
+
+Widow	I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour
+	Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
+	And both shall cease, without your remedy.
+
+KING	Come hither, count; do you know these women?
+
+BERTRAM	My lord, I neither can nor will deny
+	But that I know them: do they charge me further?
+
+DIANA	Why do you look so strange upon your wife?
+
+BERTRAM	She's none of mine, my lord.
+
+DIANA	If you shall marry,
+	You give away this hand, and that is mine;
+	You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine;
+	You give away myself, which is known mine;
+	For I by vow am so embodied yours,
+	That she which marries you must marry me,
+	Either both or none.
+
+LAFEU	Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you
+	are no husband for her.
+
+BERTRAM	My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature,
+	Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness
+	Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour
+	Than for to think that I would sink it here.
+
+KING	Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend
+	Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour
+	Than in my thought it lies.
+
+DIANA	Good my lord,
+	Ask him upon his oath, if he does think
+	He had not my virginity.
+
+KING	What say'st thou to her?
+
+BERTRAM	She's impudent, my lord,
+	And was a common gamester to the camp.
+
+DIANA	He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so,
+	He might have bought me at a common price:
+	Do not believe him. O, behold this ring,
+	Whose high respect and rich validity
+	Did lack a parallel; yet for all that
+	He gave it to a commoner o' the camp,
+	If I be one.
+
+COUNTESS	                  He blushes, and 'tis it:
+	Of six preceding ancestors, that gem,
+	Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue,
+	Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife;
+	That ring's a thousand proofs.
+
+KING	Methought you said
+	You saw one here in court could witness it.
+
+DIANA	I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
+	So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles.
+
+LAFEU	I saw the man to-day, if man he be.
+
+KING	Find him, and bring him hither.
+
+	[Exit an Attendant]
+
+BERTRAM	What of him?
+	He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
+	With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd;
+	Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth.
+	Am I or that or this for what he'll utter,
+	That will speak any thing?
+
+KING	She hath that ring of yours.
+
+BERTRAM	I think she has: certain it is I liked her,
+	And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth:
+	She knew her distance and did angle for me,
+	Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
+	As all impediments in fancy's course
+	Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
+	Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace,
+	Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring;
+	And I had that which any inferior might
+	At market-price have bought.
+
+DIANA	I must be patient:
+	You, that have turn'd off a first so noble wife,
+	May justly diet me. I pray you yet;
+	Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband;
+	Send for your ring, I will return it home,
+	And give me mine again.
+
+BERTRAM	I have it not.
+
+KING	What ring was yours, I pray you?
+
+DIANA	Sir, much like
+	The same upon your finger.
+
+KING	Know you this ring? this ring was his of late.
+
+DIANA	And this was it I gave him, being abed.
+
+KING	The story then goes false, you threw it him
+	Out of a casement.
+
+DIANA	                  I have spoke the truth.
+
+	[Enter PAROLLES]
+
+BERTRAM	My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.
+
+KING	You boggle shrewdly, every feather stars you.
+	Is this the man you speak of?
+
+DIANA	Ay, my lord.
+
+KING	Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you,
+	Not fearing the displeasure of your master,
+	Which on your just proceeding I'll keep off,
+	By him and by this woman here what know you?
+
+PAROLLES	So please your majesty, my master hath been an
+	honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him,
+	which gentlemen have.
+
+KING	Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this woman?
+
+PAROLLES	Faith, sir, he did love her; but how?
+
+KING	How, I pray you?
+
+PAROLLES	He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman.
+
+KING	How is that?
+
+PAROLLES	He loved her, sir, and loved her not.
+
+KING	As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an
+	equivocal companion is this!
+
+PAROLLES	I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command.
+
+LAFEU	He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator.
+
+DIANA	Do you know he promised me marriage?
+
+PAROLLES	Faith, I know more than I'll speak.
+
+KING	But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest?
+
+PAROLLES	Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between them,
+	as I said; but more than that, he loved her: for
+	indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan and
+	of Limbo and of Furies and I know not what: yet I
+	was in that credit with them at that time that I
+	knew of their going to bed, and of other motions,
+	as promising her marriage, and things which would
+	derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not
+	speak what I know.
+
+KING	Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say
+	they are married: but thou art too fine in thy
+	evidence; therefore stand aside.
+	This ring, you say, was yours?
+
+DIANA	Ay, my good lord.
+
+KING	Where did you buy it? or who gave it you?
+
+DIANA	It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.
+
+KING	Who lent it you?
+
+DIANA	                  It was not lent me neither.
+
+KING	Where did you find it, then?
+
+DIANA	I found it not.
+
+KING	If it were yours by none of all these ways,
+	How could you give it him?
+
+DIANA	I never gave it him.
+
+LAFEU	This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off
+	and on at pleasure.
+
+KING	This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife.
+
+DIANA	It might be yours or hers, for aught I know.
+
+KING	Take her away; I do not like her now;
+	To prison with her: and away with him.
+	Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring,
+	Thou diest within this hour.
+
+DIANA	I'll never tell you.
+
+KING	Take her away.
+
+DIANA	                  I'll put in bail, my liege.
+
+KING	I think thee now some common customer.
+
+DIANA	By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
+
+KING	Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while?
+
+DIANA	Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty:
+	He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't;
+	I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not.
+	Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life;
+	I am either maid, or else this old man's wife.
+
+KING	She does abuse our ears: to prison with her.
+
+DIANA	Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir:
+
+	[Exit Widow]
+
+	The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for,
+	And he shall surety me. But for this lord,
+	Who hath abused me, as he knows himself,
+	Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him:
+	He knows himself my bed he hath defiled;
+	And at that time he got his wife with child:
+	Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick:
+	So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick:
+	And now behold the meaning.
+
+	[Re-enter Widow, with HELENA]
+
+KING	Is there no exorcist
+	Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
+	Is't real that I see?
+
+HELENA	No, my good lord;
+	'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
+	The name and not the thing.
+
+BERTRAM	Both, both. O, pardon!
+
+HELENA	O my good lord, when I was like this maid,
+	I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring;
+	And, look you, here's your letter; this it says:
+	'When from my finger you can get this ring
+	And are by me with child,' &c. This is done:
+	Will you be mine, now you are doubly won?
+
+BERTRAM	If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,
+	I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.
+
+HELENA	If it appear not plain and prove untrue,
+	Deadly divorce step between me and you!
+	O my dear mother, do I see you living?
+
+LAFEU	Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon:
+
+	[To PAROLLES]
+
+	Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher: so,
+	I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee:
+	Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.
+
+KING	Let us from point to point this story know,
+	To make the even truth in pleasure flow.
+
+	[To DIANA]
+
+	If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,
+	Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower;
+	For I can guess that by thy honest aid
+	Thou keep'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.
+	Of that and all the progress, more or less,
+	Resolvedly more leisure shall express:
+	All yet seems well; and if it end so meet,
+	The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
+
+	[Flourish]
+
+
+
+
+	ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+	EPILOGUE
+
+
+KING	The king's a beggar, now the play is done:
+	All is well ended, if this suit be won,
+	That you express content; which we will pay,
+	With strife to please you, day exceeding day:
+	Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts;
+	Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+DUKE SENIOR	living in banishment.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	his brother, an usurper of his dominions.
+
+
+AMIENS	|
+	|  lords attending on the banished duke.
+JAQUES	|
+
+
+LE BEAU	a courtier attending upon Frederick.
+
+CHARLES	wrestler to Frederick.
+
+
+OLIVER		|
+		|
+JAQUES (JAQUES DE BOYS:)  	|  sons of Sir Rowland de Boys.
+		|
+ORLANDO		|
+
+
+ADAM	|
+	|  servants to Oliver.
+DENNIS	|
+
+
+TOUCHSTONE	a clown.
+
+SIR OLIVER MARTEXT	a vicar.
+
+
+CORIN	|
+	|  shepherds.
+SILVIUS	|
+
+
+WILLIAM	a country fellow in love with Audrey.
+
+	A person representing HYMEN. (HYMEN:)
+
+ROSALIND	daughter to the banished duke.
+
+CELIA	daughter to Frederick.
+
+PHEBE	a shepherdess.
+
+AUDREY	a country wench.
+
+	Lords, pages, and attendants, &c.
+	(Forester:)
+	(A Lord:)
+	(First Lord:)
+	(Second Lord:)
+	(First Page:)
+	(Second Page:)
+
+
+SCENE	Oliver's house; Duke Frederick's court; and the
+	Forest of Arden.
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Orchard of Oliver's house.
+
+
+	[Enter ORLANDO and ADAM]
+
+ORLANDO	As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion
+	bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns,
+	and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, on his
+	blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my
+	sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and
+	report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part,
+	he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more
+	properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you
+	that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that
+	differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses
+	are bred better; for, besides that they are fair
+	with their feeding, they are taught their manage,
+	and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his
+	brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for the
+	which his animals on his dunghills are as much
+	bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so
+	plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave
+	me his countenance seems to take from me: he lets
+	me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a
+	brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my
+	gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that
+	grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I
+	think is within me, begins to mutiny against this
+	servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I
+	know no wise remedy how to avoid it.
+
+ADAM	Yonder comes my master, your brother.
+
+ORLANDO	Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will
+	shake me up.
+
+	[Enter OLIVER]
+
+OLIVER	Now, sir! what make you here?
+
+ORLANDO	Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.
+
+OLIVER	What mar you then, sir?
+
+ORLANDO	Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God
+	made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.
+
+OLIVER	Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile.
+
+ORLANDO	Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them?
+	What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should
+	come to such penury?
+
+OLIVER	Know you where your are, sir?
+
+ORLANDO	O, sir, very well; here in your orchard.
+
+OLIVER	Know you before whom, sir?
+
+ORLANDO	Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I know
+	you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle
+	condition of blood, you should so know me. The
+	courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that
+	you are the first-born; but the same tradition
+	takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers
+	betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me as
+	you; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is
+	nearer to his reverence.
+
+OLIVER	What, boy!
+
+ORLANDO	Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this.
+
+OLIVER	Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?
+
+ORLANDO	I am no villain; I am the youngest son of Sir
+	Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice
+	a villain that says such a father begot villains.
+	Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand
+	from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy
+	tongue for saying so: thou hast railed on thyself.
+
+ADAM	Sweet masters, be patient: for your father's
+	remembrance, be at accord.
+
+OLIVER	Let me go, I say.
+
+ORLANDO	I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My
+	father charged you in his will to give me good
+	education: you have trained me like a peasant,
+	obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like
+	qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in
+	me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow
+	me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or
+	give me the poor allottery my father left me by
+	testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes.
+
+OLIVER	And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent?
+	Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled
+	with you; you shall have some part of your will: I
+	pray you, leave me.
+
+ORLANDO	I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good.
+
+OLIVER	Get you with him, you old dog.
+
+ADAM	Is 'old dog' my reward? Most true, I have lost my
+	teeth in your service. God be with my old master!
+	he would not have spoke such a word.
+
+	[Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM]
+
+OLIVER	Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will
+	physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand
+	crowns neither. Holla, Dennis!
+
+	[Enter DENNIS]
+
+DENNIS	Calls your worship?
+
+OLIVER	Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to speak with me?
+
+DENNIS	So please you, he is here at the door and importunes
+	access to you.
+
+OLIVER	Call him in.
+
+	[Exit DENNIS]
+
+	'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is.
+
+	[Enter CHARLES]
+
+CHARLES	Good morrow to your worship.
+
+OLIVER	Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at the
+	new court?
+
+CHARLES	There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news:
+	that is, the old duke is banished by his younger
+	brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords
+	have put themselves into voluntary exile with him,
+	whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke;
+	therefore he gives them good leave to wander.
+
+OLIVER	Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be
+	banished with her father?
+
+CHARLES	O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves
+	her, being ever from their cradles bred together,
+	that she would have followed her exile, or have died
+	to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no
+	less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and
+	never two ladies loved as they do.
+
+OLIVER	Where will the old duke live?
+
+CHARLES	They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and
+	a many merry men with him; and there they live like
+	the old Robin Hood of England: they say many young
+	gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time
+	carelessly, as they did in the golden world.
+
+OLIVER	What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke?
+
+CHARLES	Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you with a
+	matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand
+	that your younger brother Orlando hath a disposition
+	to come in disguised against me to try a fall.
+	To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that
+	escapes me without some broken limb shall acquit him
+	well. Your brother is but young and tender; and,
+	for your love, I would be loath to foil him, as I
+	must, for my own honour, if he come in: therefore,
+	out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you
+	withal, that either you might stay him from his
+	intendment or brook such disgrace well as he shall
+	run into, in that it is a thing of his own search
+	and altogether against my will.
+
+OLIVER	Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which
+	thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had
+	myself notice of my brother's purpose herein and
+	have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from
+	it, but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles:
+	it is the stubbornest young fellow of France, full
+	of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's
+	good parts, a secret and villanous contriver against
+	me his natural brother: therefore use thy
+	discretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck
+	as his finger. And thou wert best look to't; for if
+	thou dost him any slight disgrace or if he do not
+	mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise
+	against thee by poison, entrap thee by some
+	treacherous device and never leave thee till he
+	hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other;
+	for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak
+	it, there is not one so young and so villanous this
+	day living. I speak but brotherly of him; but
+	should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must
+	blush and weep and thou must look pale and wonder.
+
+CHARLES	I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he come
+	to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: if ever he go
+	alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more: and
+	so God keep your worship!
+
+OLIVER	Farewell, good Charles.
+
+	[Exit CHARLES]
+
+	Now will I stir this gamester: I hope I shall see
+	an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why,
+	hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle, never
+	schooled and yet learned, full of noble device, of
+	all sorts enchantingly beloved, and indeed so much
+	in the heart of the world, and especially of my own
+	people, who best know him, that I am altogether
+	misprised: but it shall not be so long; this
+	wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains but that
+	I kindle the boy thither; which now I'll go about.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Lawn before the Duke's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter CELIA and ROSALIND]
+
+CELIA	I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry.
+
+ROSALIND	Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of;
+	and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could
+	teach me to forget a banished father, you must not
+	learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.
+
+CELIA	Herein I see thou lovest me not with the full weight
+	that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father,
+	had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so thou
+	hadst been still with me, I could have taught my
+	love to take thy father for mine: so wouldst thou,
+	if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously
+	tempered as mine is to thee.
+
+ROSALIND	Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to
+	rejoice in yours.
+
+CELIA	You know my father hath no child but I, nor none is
+	like to have: and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt
+	be his heir, for what he hath taken away from thy
+	father perforce, I will render thee again in
+	affection; by mine honour, I will; and when I break
+	that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my
+	sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry.
+
+ROSALIND	From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports. Let
+	me see; what think you of falling in love?
+
+CELIA	Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal: but
+	love no man in good earnest; nor no further in sport
+	neither than with safety of a pure blush thou mayst
+	in honour come off again.
+
+ROSALIND	What shall be our sport, then?
+
+CELIA	Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune from
+	her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally.
+
+ROSALIND	I would we could do so, for her benefits are
+	mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman
+	doth most mistake in her gifts to women.
+
+CELIA	'Tis true; for those that she makes fair she scarce
+	makes honest, and those that she makes honest she
+	makes very ill-favouredly.
+
+ROSALIND	Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to
+	Nature's: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world,
+	not in the lineaments of Nature.
+
+	[Enter TOUCHSTONE]
+
+CELIA	No? when Nature hath made a fair creature, may she
+	not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature
+	hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not
+	Fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument?
+
+ROSALIND	Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when
+	Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of
+	Nature's wit.
+
+CELIA	Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, but
+	Nature's; who perceiveth our natural wits too dull
+	to reason of such goddesses and hath sent this
+	natural for our whetstone; for always the dulness of
+	the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now,
+	wit! whither wander you?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Mistress, you must come away to your father.
+
+CELIA	Were you made the messenger?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	No, by mine honour, but I was bid to come for you.
+
+ROSALIND	Where learned you that oath, fool?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they
+	were good pancakes and swore by his honour the
+	mustard was naught: now I'll stand to it, the
+	pancakes were naught and the mustard was good, and
+	yet was not the knight forsworn.
+
+CELIA	How prove you that, in the great heap of your
+	knowledge?
+
+ROSALIND	Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and
+	swear by your beards that I am a knave.
+
+CELIA	By our beards, if we had them, thou art.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you
+	swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no
+	more was this knight swearing by his honour, for he
+	never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away
+	before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard.
+
+CELIA	Prithee, who is't that thou meanest?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	One that old Frederick, your father, loves.
+
+CELIA	My father's love is enough to honour him: enough!
+	speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation
+	one of these days.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what
+	wise men do foolishly.
+
+CELIA	By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little
+	wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery
+	that wise men have makes a great show. Here comes
+	Monsieur Le Beau.
+
+ROSALIND	With his mouth full of news.
+
+CELIA	Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young.
+
+ROSALIND	Then shall we be news-crammed.
+
+CELIA	All the better; we shall be the more marketable.
+
+	[Enter LE BEAU]
+
+	Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the news?
+
+LE BEAU	Fair princess, you have lost much good sport.
+
+CELIA	Sport! of what colour?
+
+LE BEAU	What colour, madam! how shall I answer you?
+
+ROSALIND	As wit and fortune will.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Or as the Destinies decree.
+
+CELIA	Well said: that was laid on with a trowel.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Nay, if I keep not my rank,--
+
+ROSALIND	Thou losest thy old smell.
+
+LE BEAU	You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you of good
+	wrestling, which you have lost the sight of.
+
+ROSALIND	You tell us the manner of the wrestling.
+
+LE BEAU	I will tell you the beginning; and, if it please
+	your ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is
+	yet to do; and here, where you are, they are coming
+	to perform it.
+
+CELIA	Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried.
+
+LE BEAU	There comes an old man and his three sons,--
+
+CELIA	I could match this beginning with an old tale.
+
+LE BEAU	Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence.
+
+ROSALIND	With bills on their necks, 'Be it known unto all men
+	by these presents.'
+
+LE BEAU	The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the
+	duke's wrestler; which Charles in a moment threw him
+	and broke three of his ribs, that there is little
+	hope of life in him: so he served the second, and
+	so the third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man,
+	their father, making such pitiful dole over them
+	that all the beholders take his part with weeping.
+
+ROSALIND	Alas!
+
+TOUCHSTONE	But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies
+	have lost?
+
+LE BEAU	Why, this that I speak of.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Thus men may grow wiser every day: it is the first
+	time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport
+	for ladies.
+
+CELIA	Or I, I promise thee.
+
+ROSALIND	But is there any else longs to see this broken music
+	in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon
+	rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin?
+
+LE BEAU	You must, if you stay here; for here is the place
+	appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to
+	perform it.
+
+CELIA	Yonder, sure, they are coming: let us now stay and see it.
+
+	[Flourish. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, ORLANDO,
+	CHARLES, and Attendants]
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	Come on: since the youth will not be entreated, his
+	own peril on his forwardness.
+
+ROSALIND	Is yonder the man?
+
+LE BEAU	Even he, madam.
+
+CELIA	Alas, he is too young! yet he looks successfully.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	How now, daughter and cousin! are you crept hither
+	to see the wrestling?
+
+ROSALIND	Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	You will take little delight in it, I can tell you;
+	there is such odds in the man. In pity of the
+	challenger's youth I would fain dissuade him, but he
+	will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if
+	you can move him.
+
+CELIA	Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	Do so: I'll not be by.
+
+LE BEAU	Monsieur the challenger, the princesses call for you.
+
+ORLANDO	I attend them with all respect and duty.
+
+ROSALIND	Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler?
+
+ORLANDO	No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I
+	come but in, as others do, to try with him the
+	strength of my youth.
+
+CELIA	Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your
+	years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's
+	strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes or
+	knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your
+	adventure would counsel you to a more equal
+	enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to
+	embrace your own safety and give over this attempt.
+
+ROSALIND	Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore
+	be misprised: we will make it our suit to the duke
+	that the wrestling might not go forward.
+
+ORLANDO	I beseech you, punish me not with your hard
+	thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny
+	so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let
+	your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my
+	trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one
+	shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one
+	dead that was willing to be so: I shall do my
+	friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me, the
+	world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in
+	the world I fill up a place, which may be better
+	supplied when I have made it empty.
+
+ROSALIND	The little strength that I have, I would it were with you.
+
+CELIA	And mine, to eke out hers.
+
+ROSALIND	Fare you well: pray heaven I be deceived in you!
+
+CELIA	Your heart's desires be with you!
+
+CHARLES	Come, where is this young gallant that is so
+	desirous to lie with his mother earth?
+
+ORLANDO	Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	You shall try but one fall.
+
+CHARLES	No, I warrant your grace, you shall not entreat him
+	to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him
+	from a first.
+
+ORLANDO	An you mean to mock me after, you should not have
+	mocked me before: but come your ways.
+
+ROSALIND	Now Hercules be thy speed, young man!
+
+CELIA	I would I were invisible, to catch the strong
+	fellow by the leg.
+
+	[They wrestle]
+
+ROSALIND	O excellent young man!
+
+CELIA	If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who
+	should down.
+
+	[Shout. CHARLES is thrown]
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	No more, no more.
+
+ORLANDO	Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet well breathed.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	How dost thou, Charles?
+
+LE BEAU	He cannot speak, my lord.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	Bear him away. What is thy name, young man?
+
+ORLANDO	Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	I would thou hadst been son to some man else:
+	The world esteem'd thy father honourable,
+	But I did find him still mine enemy:
+	Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed,
+	Hadst thou descended from another house.
+	But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth:
+	I would thou hadst told me of another father.
+
+	[Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK, train, and LE BEAU]
+
+CELIA	Were I my father, coz, would I do this?
+
+ORLANDO	I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son,
+	His youngest son; and would not change that calling,
+	To be adopted heir to Frederick.
+
+ROSALIND	My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul,
+	And all the world was of my father's mind:
+	Had I before known this young man his son,
+	I should have given him tears unto entreaties,
+	Ere he should thus have ventured.
+
+CELIA	Gentle cousin,
+	Let us go thank him and encourage him:
+	My father's rough and envious disposition
+	Sticks me at heart. Sir, you have well deserved:
+	If you do keep your promises in love
+	But justly, as you have exceeded all promise,
+	Your mistress shall be happy.
+
+ROSALIND	Gentleman,
+
+	[Giving him a chain from her neck]
+
+	Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune,
+	That could give more, but that her hand lacks means.
+	Shall we go, coz?
+
+CELIA	                  Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman.
+
+ORLANDO	Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts
+	Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up
+	Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block.
+
+ROSALIND	He calls us back: my pride fell with my fortunes;
+	I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, sir?
+	Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown
+	More than your enemies.
+
+CELIA	Will you go, coz?
+
+ROSALIND	Have with you. Fare you well.
+
+	[Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA]
+
+ORLANDO	What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?
+	I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference.
+	O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown!
+	Or Charles or something weaker masters thee.
+
+	[Re-enter LE BEAU]
+
+LE BEAU	Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you
+	To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved
+	High commendation, true applause and love,
+	Yet such is now the duke's condition
+	That he misconstrues all that you have done.
+	The duke is humorous; what he is indeed,
+	More suits you to conceive than I to speak of.
+
+ORLANDO	I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me this:
+	Which of the two was daughter of the duke
+	That here was at the wrestling?
+
+LE BEAU	Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners;
+	But yet indeed the lesser is his daughter
+	The other is daughter to the banish'd duke,
+	And here detain'd by her usurping uncle,
+	To keep his daughter company; whose loves
+	Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.
+	But I can tell you that of late this duke
+	Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece,
+	Grounded upon no other argument
+	But that the people praise her for her virtues
+	And pity her for her good father's sake;
+	And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
+	Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well:
+	Hereafter, in a better world than this,
+	I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
+
+ORLANDO	I rest much bounden to you: fare you well.
+
+	[Exit LE BEAU]
+
+	Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;
+	From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother:
+	But heavenly Rosalind!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter CELIA and ROSALIND]
+
+CELIA	Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy! not a word?
+
+ROSALIND	Not one to throw at a dog.
+
+CELIA	No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon
+	curs; throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons.
+
+ROSALIND	Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one
+	should be lamed with reasons and the other mad
+	without any.
+
+CELIA	But is all this for your father?
+
+ROSALIND	No, some of it is for my child's father. O, how
+	full of briers is this working-day world!
+
+CELIA	They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in
+	holiday foolery: if we walk not in the trodden
+	paths our very petticoats will catch them.
+
+ROSALIND	I could shake them off my coat: these burs are in my heart.
+
+CELIA	Hem them away.
+
+ROSALIND	I would try, if I could cry 'hem' and have him.
+
+CELIA	Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.
+
+ROSALIND	O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself!
+
+CELIA	O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in
+	despite of a fall. But, turning these jests out of
+	service, let us talk in good earnest: is it
+	possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so
+	strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son?
+
+ROSALIND	The duke my father loved his father dearly.
+
+CELIA	Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his son
+	dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate him,
+	for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate
+	not Orlando.
+
+ROSALIND	No, faith, hate him not, for my sake.
+
+CELIA	Why should I not? doth he not deserve well?
+
+ROSALIND	Let me love him for that, and do you love him
+	because I do. Look, here comes the duke.
+
+CELIA	With his eyes full of anger.
+
+	[Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords]
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste
+	And get you from our court.
+
+ROSALIND	Me, uncle?
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	You, cousin
+	Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
+	So near our public court as twenty miles,
+	Thou diest for it.
+
+ROSALIND	                  I do beseech your grace,
+	Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:
+	If with myself I hold intelligence
+	Or have acquaintance with mine own desires,
+	If that I do not dream or be not frantic,--
+	As I do trust I am not--then, dear uncle,
+	Never so much as in a thought unborn
+	Did I offend your highness.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	Thus do all traitors:
+	If their purgation did consist in words,
+	They are as innocent as grace itself:
+	Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.
+
+ROSALIND	Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor:
+	Tell me whereon the likelihood depends.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough.
+
+ROSALIND	So was I when your highness took his dukedom;
+	So was I when your highness banish'd him:
+	Treason is not inherited, my lord;
+	Or, if we did derive it from our friends,
+	What's that to me? my father was no traitor:
+	Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much
+	To think my poverty is treacherous.
+
+CELIA	Dear sovereign, hear me speak.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake,
+	Else had she with her father ranged along.
+
+CELIA	I did not then entreat to have her stay;
+	It was your pleasure and your own remorse:
+	I was too young that time to value her;
+	But now I know her: if she be a traitor,
+	Why so am I; we still have slept together,
+	Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together,
+	And wheresoever we went, like Juno's swans,
+	Still we went coupled and inseparable.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness,
+	Her very silence and her patience
+	Speak to the people, and they pity her.
+	Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name;
+	And thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous
+	When she is gone. Then open not thy lips:
+	Firm and irrevocable is my doom
+	Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd.
+
+CELIA	Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege:
+	I cannot live out of her company.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	You are a fool. You, niece, provide yourself:
+	If you outstay the time, upon mine honour,
+	And in the greatness of my word, you die.
+
+	[Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK and Lords]
+
+CELIA	O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go?
+	Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine.
+	I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am.
+
+ROSALIND	I have more cause.
+
+CELIA	                  Thou hast not, cousin;
+	Prithee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke
+	Hath banish'd me, his daughter?
+
+ROSALIND	That he hath not.
+
+CELIA	No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love
+	Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one:
+	Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl?
+	No: let my father seek another heir.
+	Therefore devise with me how we may fly,
+	Whither to go and what to bear with us;
+	And do not seek to take your change upon you,
+	To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out;
+	For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,
+	Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.
+
+ROSALIND	Why, whither shall we go?
+
+CELIA	To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden.
+
+ROSALIND	Alas, what danger will it be to us,
+	Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!
+	Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
+
+CELIA	I'll put myself in poor and mean attire
+	And with a kind of umber smirch my face;
+	The like do you: so shall we pass along
+	And never stir assailants.
+
+ROSALIND	Were it not better,
+	Because that I am more than common tall,
+	That I did suit me all points like a man?
+	A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,
+	A boar-spear in my hand; and--in my heart
+	Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will--
+	We'll have a swashing and a martial outside,
+	As many other mannish cowards have
+	That do outface it with their semblances.
+
+CELIA	What shall I call thee when thou art a man?
+
+ROSALIND	I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page;
+	And therefore look you call me Ganymede.
+	But what will you be call'd?
+
+CELIA	Something that hath a reference to my state
+	No longer Celia, but Aliena.
+
+ROSALIND	But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal
+	The clownish fool out of your father's court?
+	Would he not be a comfort to our travel?
+
+CELIA	He'll go along o'er the wide world with me;
+	Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away,
+	And get our jewels and our wealth together,
+	Devise the fittest time and safest way
+	To hide us from pursuit that will be made
+	After my flight. Now go we in content
+	To liberty and not to banishment.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The Forest of Arden.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and two or three Lords,
+	like foresters]
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,
+	Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
+	Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
+	More free from peril than the envious court?
+	Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
+	The seasons' difference, as the icy fang
+	And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,
+	Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,
+	Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say
+	'This is no flattery: these are counsellors
+	That feelingly persuade me what I am.'
+	Sweet are the uses of adversity,
+	Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
+	Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
+	And this our life exempt from public haunt
+	Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
+	Sermons in stones and good in every thing.
+	I would not change it.
+
+AMIENS	Happy is your grace,
+	That can translate the stubbornness of fortune
+	Into so quiet and so sweet a style.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Come, shall we go and kill us venison?
+	And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,
+	Being native burghers of this desert city,
+	Should in their own confines with forked heads
+	Have their round haunches gored.
+
+First Lord	Indeed, my lord,
+	The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,
+	And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp
+	Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.
+	To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself
+	Did steal behind him as he lay along
+	Under an oak whose antique root peeps out
+	Upon the brook that brawls along this wood:
+	To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,
+	That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt,
+	Did come to languish, and indeed, my lord,
+	The wretched animal heaved forth such groans
+	That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
+	Almost to bursting, and the big round tears
+	Coursed one another down his innocent nose
+	In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool
+	Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
+	Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
+	Augmenting it with tears.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	But what said Jaques?
+	Did he not moralize this spectacle?
+
+First Lord	O, yes, into a thousand similes.
+	First, for his weeping into the needless stream;
+	'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou makest a testament
+	As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more
+	To that which had too much:' then, being there alone,
+	Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends,
+	''Tis right:' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part
+	The flux of company:' anon a careless herd,
+	Full of the pasture, jumps along by him
+	And never stays to greet him; 'Ay' quoth Jaques,
+	'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
+	'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look
+	Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?'
+	Thus most invectively he pierceth through
+	The body of the country, city, court,
+	Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we
+	Are mere usurpers, tyrants and what's worse,
+	To fright the animals and to kill them up
+	In their assign'd and native dwelling-place.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	And did you leave him in this contemplation?
+
+Second Lord	We did, my lord, weeping and commenting
+	Upon the sobbing deer.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Show me the place:
+	I love to cope him in these sullen fits,
+	For then he's full of matter.
+
+First Lord	I'll bring you to him straight.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A room in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords]
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	Can it be possible that no man saw them?
+	It cannot be: some villains of my court
+	Are of consent and sufferance in this.
+
+First Lord	I cannot hear of any that did see her.
+	The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,
+	Saw her abed, and in the morning early
+	They found the bed untreasured of their mistress.
+
+Second Lord	My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft
+	Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.
+	Hisperia, the princess' gentlewoman,
+	Confesses that she secretly o'erheard
+	Your daughter and her cousin much commend
+	The parts and graces of the wrestler
+	That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles;
+	And she believes, wherever they are gone,
+	That youth is surely in their company.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither;
+	If he be absent, bring his brother to me;
+	I'll make him find him: do this suddenly,
+	And let not search and inquisition quail
+	To bring again these foolish runaways.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Before OLIVER'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting]
+
+ORLANDO	Who's there?
+
+ADAM	What, my young master? O, my gentle master!
+	O my sweet master! O you memory
+	Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here?
+	Why are you virtuous? why do people love you?
+	And wherefore are you gentle, strong and valiant?
+	Why would you be so fond to overcome
+	The bonny priser of the humorous duke?
+	Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.
+	Know you not, master, to some kind of men
+	Their graces serve them but as enemies?
+	No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master,
+	Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.
+	O, what a world is this, when what is comely
+	Envenoms him that bears it!
+
+ORLANDO	Why, what's the matter?
+
+ADAM	O unhappy youth!
+	Come not within these doors; within this roof
+	The enemy of all your graces lives:
+	Your brother--no, no brother; yet the son--
+	Yet not the son, I will not call him son
+	Of him I was about to call his father--
+	Hath heard your praises, and this night he means
+	To burn the lodging where you use to lie
+	And you within it: if he fail of that,
+	He will have other means to cut you off.
+	I overheard him and his practises.
+	This is no place; this house is but a butchery:
+	Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it.
+
+ORLANDO	Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go?
+
+ADAM	No matter whither, so you come not here.
+
+ORLANDO	What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food?
+	Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce
+	A thievish living on the common road?
+	This I must do, or know not what to do:
+	Yet this I will not do, do how I can;
+	I rather will subject me to the malice
+	Of a diverted blood and bloody brother.
+
+ADAM	But do not so. I have five hundred crowns,
+	The thrifty hire I saved under your father,
+	Which I did store to be my foster-nurse
+	When service should in my old limbs lie lame
+	And unregarded age in corners thrown:
+	Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed,
+	Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
+	Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold;
+	And all this I give you. Let me be your servant:
+	Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty;
+	For in my youth I never did apply
+	Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood,
+	Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo
+	The means of weakness and debility;
+	Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
+	Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you;
+	I'll do the service of a younger man
+	In all your business and necessities.
+
+ORLANDO	O good old man, how well in thee appears
+	The constant service of the antique world,
+	When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
+	Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
+	Where none will sweat but for promotion,
+	And having that, do choke their service up
+	Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
+	But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten tree,
+	That cannot so much as a blossom yield
+	In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry
+	But come thy ways; well go along together,
+	And ere we have thy youthful wages spent,
+	We'll light upon some settled low content.
+
+ADAM	Master, go on, and I will follow thee,
+	To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty.
+	From seventeen years till now almost fourscore
+	Here lived I, but now live here no more.
+	At seventeen years many their fortunes seek;
+	But at fourscore it is too late a week:
+	Yet fortune cannot recompense me better
+	Than to die well and not my master's debtor.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The Forest of Arden.
+
+
+	[Enter ROSALIND for Ganymede, CELIA for Aliena,
+	and TOUCHSTONE]
+
+ROSALIND	O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits!
+
+TOUCHSTONE	I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary.
+
+ROSALIND	I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's
+	apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort
+	the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show
+	itself courageous to petticoat: therefore courage,
+	good Aliena!
+
+CELIA	I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear
+	you; yet I should bear no cross if I did bear you,
+	for I think you have no money in your purse.
+
+ROSALIND	Well, this is the forest of Arden.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was
+	at home, I was in a better place: but travellers
+	must be content.
+
+ROSALIND	Ay, be so, good Touchstone.
+
+	[Enter CORIN and SILVIUS]
+
+	Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in
+	solemn talk.
+
+CORIN	That is the way to make her scorn you still.
+
+SILVIUS	O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her!
+
+CORIN	I partly guess; for I have loved ere now.
+
+SILVIUS	No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess,
+	Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover
+	As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow:
+	But if thy love were ever like to mine--
+	As sure I think did never man love so--
+	How many actions most ridiculous
+	Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?
+
+CORIN	Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
+
+SILVIUS	O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily!
+	If thou remember'st not the slightest folly
+	That ever love did make thee run into,
+	Thou hast not loved:
+	Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,
+	Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,
+	Thou hast not loved:
+	Or if thou hast not broke from company
+	Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,
+	Thou hast not loved.
+	O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ROSALIND	Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound,
+	I have by hard adventure found mine own.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	And I mine. I remember, when I was in love I broke
+	my sword upon a stone and bid him take that for
+	coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the
+	kissing of her batlet and the cow's dugs that her
+	pretty chopt hands had milked; and I remember the
+	wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took
+	two cods and, giving her them again, said with
+	weeping tears 'Wear these for my sake.' We that are
+	true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is
+	mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.
+
+ROSALIND	Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I
+	break my shins against it.
+
+ROSALIND	Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion
+	Is much upon my fashion.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	And mine; but it grows something stale with me.
+
+CELIA	I pray you, one of you question yond man
+	If he for gold will give us any food:
+	I faint almost to death.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Holla, you clown!
+
+ROSALIND	Peace, fool: he's not thy kinsman.
+
+CORIN	Who calls?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Your betters, sir.
+
+CORIN	                  Else are they very wretched.
+
+ROSALIND	Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend.
+
+CORIN	And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.
+
+ROSALIND	I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold
+	Can in this desert place buy entertainment,
+	Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed:
+	Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd
+	And faints for succor.
+
+CORIN	Fair sir, I pity her
+	And wish, for her sake more than for mine own,
+	My fortunes were more able to relieve her;
+	But I am shepherd to another man
+	And do not shear the fleeces that I graze:
+	My master is of churlish disposition
+	And little recks to find the way to heaven
+	By doing deeds of hospitality:
+	Besides, his cote, his flocks and bounds of feed
+	Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now,
+	By reason of his absence, there is nothing
+	That you will feed on; but what is, come see.
+	And in my voice most welcome shall you be.
+
+ROSALIND	What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture?
+
+CORIN	That young swain that you saw here but erewhile,
+	That little cares for buying any thing.
+
+ROSALIND	I pray thee, if it stand with honesty,
+	Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock,
+	And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.
+
+CELIA	And we will mend thy wages. I like this place.
+	And willingly could waste my time in it.
+
+CORIN	Assuredly the thing is to be sold:
+	Go with me: if you like upon report
+	The soil, the profit and this kind of life,
+	I will your very faithful feeder be
+	And buy it with your gold right suddenly.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The Forest.
+
+
+	[Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others]
+	
+	SONG.
+AMIENS	Under the greenwood tree
+	Who loves to lie with me,
+	And turn his merry note
+	Unto the sweet bird's throat,
+	Come hither, come hither, come hither:
+	Here shall he see No enemy
+	But winter and rough weather.
+
+JAQUES	More, more, I prithee, more.
+
+AMIENS	It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques.
+
+JAQUES	I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck
+	melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs.
+	More, I prithee, more.
+
+AMIENS	My voice is ragged: I know I cannot please you.
+
+JAQUES	I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to
+	sing. Come, more; another stanzo: call you 'em stanzos?
+
+AMIENS	What you will, Monsieur Jaques.
+
+JAQUES	Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me
+	nothing. Will you sing?
+
+AMIENS	More at your request than to please myself.
+
+JAQUES	Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you;
+	but that they call compliment is like the encounter
+	of two dog-apes, and when a man thanks me heartily,
+	methinks I have given him a penny and he renders me
+	the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will
+	not, hold your tongues.
+
+AMIENS	Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; the
+	duke will drink under this tree. He hath been all
+	this day to look you.
+
+JAQUES	And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is
+	too disputable for my company: I think of as many
+	matters as he, but I give heaven thanks and make no
+	boast of them. Come, warble, come.
+	
+	SONG.
+	Who doth ambition shun
+
+	[All together here]
+
+	And loves to live i' the sun,
+	Seeking the food he eats
+	And pleased with what he gets,
+	Come hither, come hither, come hither:
+	Here shall he see No enemy
+	But winter and rough weather.
+
+JAQUES	I'll give you a verse to this note that I made
+	yesterday in despite of my invention.
+
+AMIENS	And I'll sing it.
+
+JAQUES	Thus it goes:--
+
+	If it do come to pass
+	That any man turn ass,
+	Leaving his wealth and ease,
+	A stubborn will to please,
+	Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame:
+	Here shall he see
+	Gross fools as he,
+	An if he will come to me.
+
+AMIENS	What's that 'ducdame'?
+
+JAQUES	'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a
+	circle. I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll
+	rail against all the first-born of Egypt.
+
+AMIENS	And I'll go seek the duke: his banquet is prepared.
+
+	[Exeunt severally]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	The forest.
+
+
+	[Enter ORLANDO and ADAM]
+
+ADAM	Dear master, I can go no further. O, I die for food!
+	Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell,
+	kind master.
+
+ORLANDO	Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live
+	a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little.
+	If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage, I
+	will either be food for it or bring it for food to
+	thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers.
+	For my sake be comfortable; hold death awhile at
+	the arm's end: I will here be with thee presently;
+	and if I bring thee not something to eat, I will
+	give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before I
+	come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said!
+	thou lookest cheerly, and I'll be with thee quickly.
+	Yet thou liest in the bleak air: come, I will bear
+	thee to some shelter; and thou shalt not die for
+	lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this
+	desert. Cheerly, good Adam!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	The forest.
+
+
+	[A table set out. Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and
+	Lords like outlaws]
+
+DUKE SENIOR	I think he be transform'd into a beast;
+	For I can no where find him like a man.
+
+First Lord	My lord, he is but even now gone hence:
+	Here was he merry, hearing of a song.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	If he, compact of jars, grow musical,
+	We shall have shortly discord in the spheres.
+	Go, seek him: tell him I would speak with him.
+
+	[Enter JAQUES]
+
+First Lord	He saves my labour by his own approach.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this,
+	That your poor friends must woo your company?
+	What, you look merrily!
+
+JAQUES	A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest,
+	A motley fool; a miserable world!
+	As I do live by food, I met a fool
+	Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun,
+	And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms,
+	In good set terms and yet a motley fool.
+	'Good morrow, fool,' quoth I. 'No, sir,' quoth he,
+	'Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune:'
+	And then he drew a dial from his poke,
+	And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
+	Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock:
+	Thus we may see,' quoth he, 'how the world wags:
+	'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine,
+	And after one hour more 'twill be eleven;
+	And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,
+	And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot;
+	And thereby hangs a tale.' When I did hear
+	The motley fool thus moral on the time,
+	My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,
+	That fools should be so deep-contemplative,
+	And I did laugh sans intermission
+	An hour by his dial. O noble fool!
+	A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	What fool is this?
+
+JAQUES	O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier,
+	And says, if ladies be but young and fair,
+	They have the gift to know it: and in his brain,
+	Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit
+	After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd
+	With observation, the which he vents
+	In mangled forms. O that I were a fool!
+	I am ambitious for a motley coat.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Thou shalt have one.
+
+JAQUES	It is my only suit;
+	Provided that you weed your better judgments
+	Of all opinion that grows rank in them
+	That I am wise. I must have liberty
+	Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
+	To blow on whom I please; for so fools have;
+	And they that are most galled with my folly,
+	They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so?
+	The 'why' is plain as way to parish church:
+	He that a fool doth very wisely hit
+	Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
+	Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not,
+	The wise man's folly is anatomized
+	Even by the squandering glances of the fool.
+	Invest me in my motley; give me leave
+	To speak my mind, and I will through and through
+	Cleanse the foul body of the infected world,
+	If they will patiently receive my medicine.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do.
+
+JAQUES	What, for a counter, would I do but good?
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin:
+	For thou thyself hast been a libertine,
+	As sensual as the brutish sting itself;
+	And all the embossed sores and headed evils,
+	That thou with licence of free foot hast caught,
+	Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.
+
+JAQUES	Why, who cries out on pride,
+	That can therein tax any private party?
+	Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea,
+	Till that the weary very means do ebb?
+	What woman in the city do I name,
+	When that I say the city-woman bears
+	The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders?
+	Who can come in and say that I mean her,
+	When such a one as she such is her neighbour?
+	Or what is he of basest function
+	That says his bravery is not of my cost,
+	Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits
+	His folly to the mettle of my speech?
+	There then; how then? what then? Let me see wherein
+	My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right,
+	Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free,
+	Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies,
+	Unclaim'd of any man. But who comes here?
+
+	[Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn]
+
+ORLANDO	Forbear, and eat no more.
+
+JAQUES	Why, I have eat none yet.
+
+ORLANDO	Nor shalt not, till necessity be served.
+
+JAQUES	Of what kind should this cock come of?
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress,
+	Or else a rude despiser of good manners,
+	That in civility thou seem'st so empty?
+
+ORLANDO	You touch'd my vein at first: the thorny point
+	Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show
+	Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred
+	And know some nurture. But forbear, I say:
+	He dies that touches any of this fruit
+	Till I and my affairs are answered.
+
+JAQUES	An you will not be answered with reason, I must die.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	What would you have? Your gentleness shall force
+	More than your force move us to gentleness.
+
+ORLANDO	I almost die for food; and let me have it.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.
+
+ORLANDO	Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you:
+	I thought that all things had been savage here;
+	And therefore put I on the countenance
+	Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are
+	That in this desert inaccessible,
+	Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
+	Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time
+	If ever you have look'd on better days,
+	If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church,
+	If ever sat at any good man's feast,
+	If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear
+	And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied,
+	Let gentleness my strong enforcement be:
+	In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	True is it that we have seen better days,
+	And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church
+	And sat at good men's feasts and wiped our eyes
+	Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd:
+	And therefore sit you down in gentleness
+	And take upon command what help we have
+	That to your wanting may be minister'd.
+
+ORLANDO	Then but forbear your food a little while,
+	Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn
+	And give it food. There is an old poor man,
+	Who after me hath many a weary step
+	Limp'd in pure love: till he be first sufficed,
+	Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger,
+	I will not touch a bit.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Go find him out,
+	And we will nothing waste till you return.
+
+ORLANDO	I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy:
+	This wide and universal theatre
+	Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
+	Wherein we play in.
+
+JAQUES	All the world's a stage,
+	And all the men and women merely players:
+	They have their exits and their entrances;
+	And one man in his time plays many parts,
+	His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
+	Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
+	And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
+	And shining morning face, creeping like snail
+	Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
+	Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
+	Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
+	Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
+	Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
+	Seeking the bubble reputation
+	Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
+	In fair round belly with good capon lined,
+	With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
+	Full of wise saws and modern instances;
+	And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
+	Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
+	With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
+	His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
+	For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
+	Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
+	And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
+	That ends this strange eventful history,
+	Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
+	Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
+
+	[Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM]
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Welcome. Set down your venerable burthen,
+	And let him feed.
+
+ORLANDO	I thank you most for him.
+
+ADAM	So had you need:
+	I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you
+	As yet, to question you about your fortunes.
+	Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing.
+	
+	SONG.
+AMIENS	Blow, blow, thou winter wind.
+	Thou art not so unkind
+	As man's ingratitude;
+	Thy tooth is not so keen,
+	Because thou art not seen,
+	Although thy breath be rude.
+	Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
+	Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
+	Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
+	This life is most jolly.
+	Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
+	That dost not bite so nigh
+	As benefits forgot:
+	Though thou the waters warp,
+	Thy sting is not so sharp
+	As friend remember'd not.
+	Heigh-ho! sing, &c.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son,
+	As you have whisper'd faithfully you were,
+	And as mine eye doth his effigies witness
+	Most truly limn'd and living in your face,
+	Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke
+	That loved your father: the residue of your fortune,
+	Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man,
+	Thou art right welcome as thy master is.
+	Support him by the arm. Give me your hand,
+	And let me all your fortunes understand.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A room in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and OLIVER]
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot be:
+	But were I not the better part made mercy,
+	I should not seek an absent argument
+	Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it:
+	Find out thy brother, wheresoe'er he is;
+	Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living
+	Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more
+	To seek a living in our territory.
+	Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine
+	Worth seizure do we seize into our hands,
+	Till thou canst quit thee by thy brothers mouth
+	Of what we think against thee.
+
+OLIVER	O that your highness knew my heart in this!
+	I never loved my brother in my life.
+
+DUKE FREDERICK	More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors;
+	And let my officers of such a nature
+	Make an extent upon his house and lands:
+	Do this expediently and turn him going.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The forest.
+
+
+	[Enter ORLANDO, with a paper]
+
+ORLANDO	Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love:
+	And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey
+	With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,
+	Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway.
+	O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books
+	And in their barks my thoughts I'll character;
+	That every eye which in this forest looks
+	Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where.
+	Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree
+	The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE]
+
+CORIN	And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good
+	life, but in respect that it is a shepherd's life,
+	it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I
+	like it very well; but in respect that it is
+	private, it is a very vile life. Now, in respect it
+	is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in
+	respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As
+	is it a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well;
+	but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much
+	against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd?
+
+CORIN	No more but that I know the more one sickens the
+	worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money,
+	means and content is without three good friends;
+	that the property of rain is to wet and fire to
+	burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a
+	great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that
+	he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may
+	complain of good breeding or comes of a very dull kindred.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in
+	court, shepherd?
+
+CORIN	No, truly.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Then thou art damned.
+
+CORIN	Nay, I hope.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Truly, thou art damned like an ill-roasted egg, all
+	on one side.
+
+CORIN	For not being at court? Your reason.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never sawest
+	good manners; if thou never sawest good manners,
+	then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is
+	sin, and sin is damnation. Thou art in a parlous
+	state, shepherd.
+
+CORIN	Not a whit, Touchstone: those that are good manners
+	at the court are as ridiculous in the country as the
+	behavior of the country is most mockable at the
+	court. You told me you salute not at the court, but
+	you kiss your hands: that courtesy would be
+	uncleanly, if courtiers were shepherds.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Instance, briefly; come, instance.
+
+CORIN	Why, we are still handling our ewes, and their
+	fells, you know, are greasy.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? and is not
+	the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of
+	a man? Shallow, shallow. A better instance, I say; come.
+
+CORIN	Besides, our hands are hard.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again.
+	A more sounder instance, come.
+
+CORIN	And they are often tarred over with the surgery of
+	our sheep: and would you have us kiss tar? The
+	courtier's hands are perfumed with civet.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Most shallow man! thou worms-meat, in respect of a
+	good piece of flesh indeed! Learn of the wise, and
+	perpend: civet is of a baser birth than tar, the
+	very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance, shepherd.
+
+CORIN	You have too courtly a wit for me: I'll rest.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee, shallow man!
+	God make incision in thee! thou art raw.
+
+CORIN	Sir, I am a true labourer: I earn that I eat, get
+	that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's
+	happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my
+	harm, and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes
+	graze and my lambs suck.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	That is another simple sin in you, to bring the ewes
+	and the rams together and to offer to get your
+	living by the copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a
+	bell-wether, and to betray a she-lamb of a
+	twelvemonth to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram,
+	out of all reasonable match. If thou beest not
+	damned for this, the devil himself will have no
+	shepherds; I cannot see else how thou shouldst
+	'scape.
+
+CORIN	Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother.
+
+	[Enter ROSALIND, with a paper, reading]
+
+ROSALIND	     From the east to western Ind,
+	No jewel is like Rosalind.
+	Her worth, being mounted on the wind,
+	Through all the world bears Rosalind.
+	All the pictures fairest lined
+	Are but black to Rosalind.
+	Let no fair be kept in mind
+	But the fair of Rosalind.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and
+	suppers and sleeping-hours excepted: it is the
+	right butter-women's rank to market.
+
+ROSALIND	Out, fool!
+
+TOUCHSTONE	For a taste:
+	If a hart do lack a hind,
+	Let him seek out Rosalind.
+	If the cat will after kind,
+	So be sure will Rosalind.
+	Winter garments must be lined,
+	So must slender Rosalind.
+	They that reap must sheaf and bind;
+	Then to cart with Rosalind.
+	Sweetest nut hath sourest rind,
+	Such a nut is Rosalind.
+	He that sweetest rose will find
+	Must find love's prick and Rosalind.
+	This is the very false gallop of verses: why do you
+	infect yourself with them?
+
+ROSALIND	Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Truly, the tree yields bad fruit.
+
+ROSALIND	I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it
+	with a medlar: then it will be the earliest fruit
+	i' the country; for you'll be rotten ere you be half
+	ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the
+	forest judge.
+
+	[Enter CELIA, with a writing]
+
+ROSALIND	Peace! Here comes my sister, reading: stand aside.
+
+CELIA	[Reads]
+
+	Why should this a desert be?
+	For it is unpeopled? No:
+	Tongues I'll hang on every tree,
+	That shall civil sayings show:
+	Some, how brief the life of man
+	Runs his erring pilgrimage,
+	That the stretching of a span
+	Buckles in his sum of age;
+	Some, of violated vows
+	'Twixt the souls of friend and friend:
+	But upon the fairest boughs,
+	Or at every sentence end,
+	Will I Rosalinda write,
+	Teaching all that read to know
+	The quintessence of every sprite
+	Heaven would in little show.
+	Therefore Heaven Nature charged
+	That one body should be fill'd
+	With all graces wide-enlarged:
+	Nature presently distill'd
+	Helen's cheek, but not her heart,
+	Cleopatra's majesty,
+	Atalanta's better part,
+	Sad Lucretia's modesty.
+	Thus Rosalind of many parts
+	By heavenly synod was devised,
+	Of many faces, eyes and hearts,
+	To have the touches dearest prized.
+	Heaven would that she these gifts should have,
+	And I to live and die her slave.
+
+ROSALIND	O most gentle pulpiter! what tedious homily of love
+	have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never
+	cried 'Have patience, good people!'
+
+CELIA	How now! back, friends! Shepherd, go off a little.
+	Go with him, sirrah.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat;
+	though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage.
+
+	[Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE]
+
+CELIA	Didst thou hear these verses?
+
+ROSALIND	O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of
+	them had in them more feet than the verses would bear.
+
+CELIA	That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses.
+
+ROSALIND	Ay, but the feet were lame and could not bear
+	themselves without the verse and therefore stood
+	lamely in the verse.
+
+CELIA	But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name
+	should be hanged and carved upon these trees?
+
+ROSALIND	I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder
+	before you came; for look here what I found on a
+	palm-tree. I was never so be-rhymed since
+	Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I
+	can hardly remember.
+
+CELIA	Trow you who hath done this?
+
+ROSALIND	Is it a man?
+
+CELIA	And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck.
+	Change you colour?
+
+ROSALIND	I prithee, who?
+
+CELIA	O Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends to
+	meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes
+	and so encounter.
+
+ROSALIND	Nay, but who is it?
+
+CELIA	Is it possible?
+
+ROSALIND	Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary vehemence,
+	tell me who it is.
+
+CELIA	O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful
+	wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that,
+	out of all hooping!
+
+ROSALIND	Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am
+	caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in
+	my disposition? One inch of delay more is a
+	South-sea of discovery; I prithee, tell me who is it
+	quickly, and speak apace. I would thou couldst
+	stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed man
+	out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow-
+	mouthed bottle, either too much at once, or none at
+	all. I prithee, take the cork out of thy mouth that
+	may drink thy tidings.
+
+CELIA	So you may put a man in your belly.
+
+ROSALIND	Is he of God's making? What manner of man? Is his
+	head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard?
+
+CELIA	Nay, he hath but a little beard.
+
+ROSALIND	Why, God will send more, if the man will be
+	thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if
+	thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin.
+
+CELIA	It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's
+	heels and your heart both in an instant.
+
+ROSALIND	Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak, sad brow and
+	true maid.
+
+CELIA	I' faith, coz, 'tis he.
+
+ROSALIND	Orlando?
+
+CELIA	Orlando.
+
+ROSALIND	Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and
+	hose? What did he when thou sawest him? What said
+	he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What makes
+	him here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he?
+	How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see
+	him again? Answer me in one word.
+
+CELIA	You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first: 'tis a
+	word too great for any mouth of this age's size. To
+	say ay and no to these particulars is more than to
+	answer in a catechism.
+
+ROSALIND	But doth he know that I am in this forest and in
+	man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the
+	day he wrestled?
+
+CELIA	It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the
+	propositions of a lover; but take a taste of my
+	finding him, and relish it with good observance.
+	I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn.
+
+ROSALIND	It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops
+	forth such fruit.
+
+CELIA	Give me audience, good madam.
+
+ROSALIND	Proceed.
+
+CELIA	There lay he, stretched along, like a wounded knight.
+
+ROSALIND	Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well
+	becomes the ground.
+
+CELIA	Cry 'holla' to thy tongue, I prithee; it curvets
+	unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter.
+
+ROSALIND	O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart.
+
+CELIA	I would sing my song without a burden: thou bringest
+	me out of tune.
+
+ROSALIND	Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must
+	speak. Sweet, say on.
+
+CELIA	You bring me out. Soft! comes he not here?
+
+	[Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES]
+
+ROSALIND	'Tis he: slink by, and note him.
+
+JAQUES	I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had
+	as lief have been myself alone.
+
+ORLANDO	And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank you
+	too for your society.
+
+JAQUES	God be wi' you: let's meet as little as we can.
+
+ORLANDO	I do desire we may be better strangers.
+
+JAQUES	I pray you, mar no more trees with writing
+	love-songs in their barks.
+
+ORLANDO	I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading
+	them ill-favouredly.
+
+JAQUES	Rosalind is your love's name?
+
+ORLANDO	Yes, just.
+
+JAQUES	I do not like her name.
+
+ORLANDO	There was no thought of pleasing you when she was
+	christened.
+
+JAQUES	What stature is she of?
+
+ORLANDO	Just as high as my heart.
+
+JAQUES	You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been
+	acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them
+	out of rings?
+
+ORLANDO	Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from
+	whence you have studied your questions.
+
+JAQUES	You have a nimble wit: I think 'twas made of
+	Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? and
+	we two will rail against our mistress the world and
+	all our misery.
+
+ORLANDO	I will chide no breather in the world but myself,
+	against whom I know most faults.
+
+JAQUES	The worst fault you have is to be in love.
+
+ORLANDO	'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue.
+	I am weary of you.
+
+JAQUES	By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found
+	you.
+
+ORLANDO	He is drowned in the brook: look but in, and you
+	shall see him.
+
+JAQUES	There I shall see mine own figure.
+
+ORLANDO	Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher.
+
+JAQUES	I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell, good
+	Signior Love.
+
+ORLANDO	I am glad of your departure: adieu, good Monsieur
+	Melancholy.
+
+	[Exit JAQUES]
+
+ROSALIND	[Aside to CELIA]  I will speak to him, like a saucy
+	lackey and under that habit play the knave with him.
+	Do you hear, forester?
+
+ORLANDO	Very well: what would you?
+
+ROSALIND	I pray you, what is't o'clock?
+
+ORLANDO	You should ask me what time o' day: there's no clock
+	in the forest.
+
+ROSALIND	Then there is no true lover in the forest; else
+	sighing every minute and groaning every hour would
+	detect the lazy foot of Time as well as a clock.
+
+ORLANDO	And why not the swift foot of Time? had not that
+	been as proper?
+
+ROSALIND	By no means, sir: Time travels in divers paces with
+	divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles
+	withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops
+	withal and who he stands still withal.
+
+ORLANDO	I prithee, who doth he trot withal?
+
+ROSALIND	Marry, he trots hard with a young maid between the
+	contract of her marriage and the day it is
+	solemnized: if the interim be but a se'nnight,
+	Time's pace is so hard that it seems the length of
+	seven year.
+
+ORLANDO	Who ambles Time withal?
+
+ROSALIND	With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich man that
+	hath not the gout, for the one sleeps easily because
+	he cannot study, and the other lives merrily because
+	he feels no pain, the one lacking the burden of lean
+	and wasteful learning, the other knowing no burden
+	of heavy tedious penury; these Time ambles withal.
+
+ORLANDO	Who doth he gallop withal?
+
+ROSALIND	With a thief to the gallows, for though he go as
+	softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there.
+
+ORLANDO	Who stays it still withal?
+
+ROSALIND	With lawyers in the vacation, for they sleep between
+	term and term and then they perceive not how Time moves.
+
+ORLANDO	Where dwell you, pretty youth?
+
+ROSALIND	With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the
+	skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat.
+
+ORLANDO	Are you native of this place?
+
+ROSALIND	As the cony that you see dwell where she is kindled.
+
+ORLANDO	Your accent is something finer than you could
+	purchase in so removed a dwelling.
+
+ROSALIND	I have been told so of many: but indeed an old
+	religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was
+	in his youth an inland man; one that knew courtship
+	too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard
+	him read many lectures against it, and I thank God
+	I am not a woman, to be touched with so many
+	giddy offences as he hath generally taxed their
+	whole sex withal.
+
+ORLANDO	Can you remember any of the principal evils that he
+	laid to the charge of women?
+
+ROSALIND	There were none principal; they were all like one
+	another as half-pence are, every one fault seeming
+	monstrous till his fellow fault came to match it.
+
+ORLANDO	I prithee, recount some of them.
+
+ROSALIND	No, I will not cast away my physic but on those that
+	are sick. There is a man haunts the forest, that
+	abuses our young plants with carving 'Rosalind' on
+	their barks; hangs odes upon hawthorns and elegies
+	on brambles, all, forsooth, deifying the name of
+	Rosalind: if I could meet that fancy-monger I would
+	give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the
+	quotidian of love upon him.
+
+ORLANDO	I am he that is so love-shaked: I pray you tell me
+	your remedy.
+
+ROSALIND	There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: he
+	taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage
+	of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner.
+
+ORLANDO	What were his marks?
+
+ROSALIND	A lean cheek, which you have not, a blue eye and
+	sunken, which you have not, an unquestionable
+	spirit, which you have not, a beard neglected,
+	which you have not; but I pardon you for that, for
+	simply your having in beard is a younger brother's
+	revenue: then your hose should be ungartered, your
+	bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe
+	untied and every thing about you demonstrating a
+	careless desolation; but you are no such man; you
+	are rather point-device in your accoutrements as
+	loving yourself than seeming the lover of any other.
+
+ORLANDO	Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love.
+
+ROSALIND	Me believe it! you may as soon make her that you
+	love believe it; which, I warrant, she is apter to
+	do than to confess she does: that is one of the
+	points in the which women still give the lie to
+	their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he
+	that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind
+	is so admired?
+
+ORLANDO	I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of
+	Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he.
+
+ROSALIND	But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak?
+
+ORLANDO	Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.
+
+ROSALIND	Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves
+	as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do: and
+	the reason why they are not so punished and cured
+	is, that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers
+	are in love too. Yet I profess curing it by counsel.
+
+ORLANDO	Did you ever cure any so?
+
+ROSALIND	Yes, one, and in this manner. He was to imagine me
+	his love, his mistress; and I set him every day to
+	woo me: at which time would I, being but a moonish
+	youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing
+	and liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow,
+	inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles, for every
+	passion something and for no passion truly any
+	thing, as boys and women are for the most part
+	cattle of this colour; would now like him, now loathe
+	him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now weep
+	for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor
+	from his mad humour of love to a living humour of
+	madness; which was, to forswear the full stream of
+	the world, and to live in a nook merely monastic.
+	And thus I cured him; and this way will I take upon
+	me to wash your liver as clean as a sound sheep's
+	heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in't.
+
+ORLANDO	I would not be cured, youth.
+
+ROSALIND	I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind
+	and come every day to my cote and woo me.
+
+ORLANDO	Now, by the faith of my love, I will: tell me
+	where it is.
+
+ROSALIND	Go with me to it and I'll show it you and by the way
+	you shall tell me where in the forest you live.
+	Will you go?
+
+ORLANDO	With all my heart, good youth.
+
+ROSALIND	Nay you must call me Rosalind. Come, sister, will you go?
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The forest.
+
+
+	[Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY; JAQUES behind]
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Come apace, good Audrey: I will fetch up your
+	goats, Audrey. And how, Audrey? am I the man yet?
+	doth my simple feature content you?
+
+AUDREY	Your features! Lord warrant us! what features!
+
+TOUCHSTONE	I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most
+	capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths.
+
+JAQUES	[Aside]  O knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than Jove
+	in a thatched house!
+
+TOUCHSTONE	When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a
+	man's good wit seconded with the forward child
+	Understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a
+	great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I would
+	the gods had made thee poetical.
+
+AUDREY	I do not know what 'poetical' is: is it honest in
+	deed and word? is it a true thing?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most
+	feigning; and lovers are given to poetry, and what
+	they swear in poetry may be said as lovers they do feign.
+
+AUDREY	Do you wish then that the gods had made me poetical?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	I do, truly; for thou swearest to me thou art
+	honest: now, if thou wert a poet, I might have some
+	hope thou didst feign.
+
+AUDREY	Would you not have me honest?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favoured; for
+	honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to sugar.
+
+JAQUES	[Aside]  A material fool!
+
+AUDREY	 Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the gods
+	make me honest.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut
+	were to put good meat into an unclean dish.
+
+AUDREY	I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am foul.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness!
+	sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may
+	be, I will marry thee, and to that end I have been
+	with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar of the next
+	village, who hath promised to meet me in this place
+	of the forest and to couple us.
+
+JAQUES	[Aside]  I would fain see this meeting.
+
+AUDREY	Well, the gods give us joy!
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful heart,
+	stagger in this attempt; for here we have no temple
+	but the wood, no assembly but horn-beasts. But what
+	though? Courage! As horns are odious, they are
+	necessary. It is said, 'many a man knows no end of
+	his goods:' right; many a man has good horns, and
+	knows no end of them. Well, that is the dowry of
+	his wife; 'tis none of his own getting. Horns?
+	Even so. Poor men alone? No, no; the noblest deer
+	hath them as huge as the rascal. Is the single man
+	therefore blessed? No: as a walled town is more
+	worthier than a village, so is the forehead of a
+	married man more honourable than the bare brow of a
+	bachelor; and by how much defence is better than no
+	skill, by so much is a horn more precious than to
+	want. Here comes Sir Oliver.
+
+	[Enter SIR OLIVER MARTEXT]
+
+	Sir Oliver Martext, you are well met: will you
+	dispatch us here under this tree, or shall we go
+	with you to your chapel?
+
+SIR OLIVER MARTEXT	Is there none here to give the woman?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	I will not take her on gift of any man.
+
+SIR OLIVER MARTEXT	Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not lawful.
+
+JAQUES	[Advancing]
+
+	Proceed, proceed	I'll give her.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Good even, good Master What-ye-call't: how do you,
+	sir? You are very well met: God 'ild you for your
+	last company: I am very glad to see you: even a
+	toy in hand here, sir: nay, pray be covered.
+
+JAQUES	Will you be married, motley?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his curb and
+	the falcon her bells, so man hath his desires; and
+	as pigeons bill, so wedlock would be nibbling.
+
+JAQUES	And will you, being a man of your breeding, be
+	married under a bush like a beggar? Get you to
+	church, and have a good priest that can tell you
+	what marriage is: this fellow will but join you
+	together as they join wainscot; then one of you will
+	prove a shrunk panel and, like green timber, warp, warp.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	[Aside]  I am not in the mind but I were better to be
+	married of him than of another: for he is not like
+	to marry me well; and not being well married, it
+	will be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave my wife.
+
+JAQUES	Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	'Come, sweet Audrey:
+	We must be married, or we must live in bawdry.
+	Farewell, good Master Oliver: not,--
+	O sweet Oliver,
+	O brave Oliver,
+	Leave me not behind thee: but,--
+	Wind away,
+	Begone, I say,
+	I will not to wedding with thee.
+
+	[Exeunt JAQUES, TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY]
+
+SIR OLIVER MARTEXT	'Tis no matter: ne'er a fantastical knave of them
+	all shall flout me out of my calling.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The forest.
+
+
+	[Enter ROSALIND and CELIA]
+
+ROSALIND	Never talk to me; I will weep.
+
+CELIA	Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to consider
+	that tears do not become a man.
+
+ROSALIND	But have I not cause to weep?
+
+CELIA	As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep.
+
+ROSALIND	His very hair is of the dissembling colour.
+
+CELIA	Something browner than Judas's marry, his kisses are
+	Judas's own children.
+
+ROSALIND	I' faith, his hair is of a good colour.
+
+CELIA	An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever the only colour.
+
+ROSALIND	And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch
+	of holy bread.
+
+CELIA	He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nun
+	of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously;
+	the very ice of chastity is in them.
+
+ROSALIND	But why did he swear he would come this morning, and
+	comes not?
+
+CELIA	Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.
+
+ROSALIND	Do you think so?
+
+CELIA	Yes; I think he is not a pick-purse nor a
+	horse-stealer, but for his verity in love, I do
+	think him as concave as a covered goblet or a
+	worm-eaten nut.
+
+ROSALIND	Not true in love?
+
+CELIA	Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not in.
+
+ROSALIND	You have heard him swear downright he was.
+
+CELIA	'Was' is not 'is:' besides, the oath of a lover is
+	no stronger than the word of a tapster; they are
+	both the confirmer of false reckonings. He attends
+	here in the forest on the duke your father.
+
+ROSALIND	I met the duke yesterday and had much question with
+	him: he asked me of what parentage I was; I told
+	him, of as good as he; so he laughed and let me go.
+	But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a
+	man as Orlando?
+
+CELIA	O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verses,
+	speaks brave words, swears brave oaths and breaks
+	them bravely, quite traverse, athwart the heart of
+	his lover; as a puisny tilter, that spurs his horse
+	but on one side, breaks his staff like a noble
+	goose: but all's brave that youth mounts and folly
+	guides. Who comes here?
+
+	[Enter CORIN]
+
+CORIN	Mistress and master, you have oft inquired
+	After the shepherd that complain'd of love,
+	Who you saw sitting by me on the turf,
+	Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess
+	That was his mistress.
+
+CELIA	Well, and what of him?
+
+CORIN	If you will see a pageant truly play'd,
+	Between the pale complexion of true love
+	And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,
+	Go hence a little and I shall conduct you,
+	If you will mark it.
+
+ROSALIND	O, come, let us remove:
+	The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.
+	Bring us to this sight, and you shall say
+	I'll prove a busy actor in their play.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another part of the forest.
+
+
+	[Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE]
+
+SILVIUS	Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe;
+	Say that you love me not, but say not so
+	In bitterness. The common executioner,
+	Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard,
+	Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck
+	But first begs pardon: will you sterner be
+	Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops?
+
+	[Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and CORIN, behind]
+
+PHEBE	I would not be thy executioner:
+	I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.
+	Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye:
+	'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable,
+	That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things,
+	Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
+	Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers!
+	Now I do frown on thee with all my heart;
+	And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee:
+	Now counterfeit to swoon; why now fall down;
+	Or if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame,
+	Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers!
+	Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee:
+	Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
+	Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush,
+	The cicatrice and capable impressure
+	Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes,
+	Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,
+	Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes
+	That can do hurt.
+
+SILVIUS	                  O dear Phebe,
+	If ever,--as that ever may be near,--
+	You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy,
+	Then shall you know the wounds invisible
+	That love's keen arrows make.
+
+PHEBE	But till that time
+	Come not thou near me: and when that time comes,
+	Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not;
+	As till that time I shall not pity thee.
+
+ROSALIND	And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother,
+	That you insult, exult, and all at once,
+	Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,--
+	As, by my faith, I see no more in you
+	Than without candle may go dark to bed--
+	Must you be therefore proud and pitiless?
+	Why, what means this? Why do you look on me?
+	I see no more in you than in the ordinary
+	Of nature's sale-work. 'Od's my little life,
+	I think she means to tangle my eyes too!
+	No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it:
+	'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
+	Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
+	That can entame my spirits to your worship.
+	You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her,
+	Like foggy south puffing with wind and rain?
+	You are a thousand times a properer man
+	Than she a woman: 'tis such fools as you
+	That makes the world full of ill-favour'd children:
+	'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her;
+	And out of you she sees herself more proper
+	Than any of her lineaments can show her.
+	But, mistress, know yourself: down on your knees,
+	And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love:
+	For I must tell you friendly in your ear,
+	Sell when you can: you are not for all markets:
+	Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer:
+	Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.
+	So take her to thee, shepherd: fare you well.
+
+PHEBE	Sweet youth, I pray you, chide a year together:
+	I had rather hear you chide than this man woo.
+
+ROSALIND	He's fallen in love with your foulness and she'll
+	fall in love with my anger. If it be so, as fast as
+	she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce her
+	with bitter words. Why look you so upon me?
+
+PHEBE	For no ill will I bear you.
+
+ROSALIND	I pray you, do not fall in love with me,
+	For I am falser than vows made in wine:
+	Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house,
+	'Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by.
+	Will you go, sister? Shepherd, ply her hard.
+	Come, sister. Shepherdess, look on him better,
+	And be not proud: though all the world could see,
+	None could be so abused in sight as he.
+	Come, to our flock.
+
+	[Exeunt ROSALIND, CELIA and CORIN]
+
+PHEBE	Dead Shepherd, now I find thy saw of might,
+	'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?'
+
+SILVIUS	Sweet Phebe,--
+
+PHEBE	                  Ha, what say'st thou, Silvius?
+
+SILVIUS	Sweet Phebe, pity me.
+
+PHEBE	Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius.
+
+SILVIUS	Wherever sorrow is, relief would be:
+	If you do sorrow at my grief in love,
+	By giving love your sorrow and my grief
+	Were both extermined.
+
+PHEBE	Thou hast my love: is not that neighbourly?
+
+SILVIUS	I would have you.
+
+PHEBE	                  Why, that were covetousness.
+	Silvius, the time was that I hated thee,
+	And yet it is not that I bear thee love;
+	But since that thou canst talk of love so well,
+	Thy company, which erst was irksome to me,
+	I will endure, and I'll employ thee too:
+	But do not look for further recompense
+	Than thine own gladness that thou art employ'd.
+
+SILVIUS	So holy and so perfect is my love,
+	And I in such a poverty of grace,
+	That I shall think it a most plenteous crop
+	To glean the broken ears after the man
+	That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then
+	A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon.
+
+PHEBE	Know'st now the youth that spoke to me erewhile?
+
+SILVIUS	Not very well, but I have met him oft;
+	And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds
+	That the old carlot once was master of.
+
+PHEBE	Think not I love him, though I ask for him:
+	'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well;
+	But what care I for words? yet words do well
+	When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.
+	It is a pretty youth: not very pretty:
+	But, sure, he's proud, and yet his pride becomes him:
+	He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him
+	Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue
+	Did make offence his eye did heal it up.
+	He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall:
+	His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well:
+	There was a pretty redness in his lip,
+	A little riper and more lusty red
+	Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference
+	Between the constant red and mingled damask.
+	There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him
+	In parcels as I did, would have gone near
+	To fall in love with him; but, for my part,
+	I love him not nor hate him not; and yet
+	I have more cause to hate him than to love him:
+	For what had he to do to chide at me?
+	He said mine eyes were black and my hair black:
+	And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me:
+	I marvel why I answer'd not again:
+	But that's all one; omittance is no quittance.
+	I'll write to him a very taunting letter,
+	And thou shalt bear it: wilt thou, Silvius?
+
+SILVIUS	Phebe, with all my heart.
+
+PHEBE	I'll write it straight;
+	The matter's in my head and in my heart:
+	I will be bitter with him and passing short.
+	Go with me, Silvius.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The forest.
+
+
+	[Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES]
+
+JAQUES	I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted
+	with thee.
+
+ROSALIND	They say you are a melancholy fellow.
+
+JAQUES	I am so; I do love it better than laughing.
+
+ROSALIND	Those that are in extremity of either are abominable
+	fellows and betray themselves to every modern
+	censure worse than drunkards.
+
+JAQUES	Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing.
+
+ROSALIND	Why then, 'tis good to be a post.
+
+JAQUES	I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is
+	emulation, nor the musician's, which is fantastical,
+	nor the courtier's, which is proud, nor the
+	soldier's, which is ambitious, nor the lawyer's,
+	which is politic, nor the lady's, which is nice, nor
+	the lover's, which is all these: but it is a
+	melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples,
+	extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry's
+	contemplation of my travels, in which my often
+	rumination wraps me m a most humorous sadness.
+
+ROSALIND	A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to
+	be sad: I fear you have sold your own lands to see
+	other men's; then, to have seen much and to have
+	nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands.
+
+JAQUES	Yes, I have gained my experience.
+
+ROSALIND	And your experience makes you sad: I had rather have
+	a fool to make me merry than experience to make me
+	sad; and to travel for it too!
+
+	[Enter ORLANDO]
+
+ORLANDO	Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind!
+
+JAQUES	Nay, then, God be wi' you, an you talk in blank verse.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ROSALIND	Farewell, Monsieur Traveller: look you lisp and
+	wear strange suits, disable all the benefits of your
+	own country, be out of love with your nativity and
+	almost chide God for making you that countenance you
+	are, or I will scarce think you have swam in a
+	gondola. Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been
+	all this while? You a lover! An you serve me such
+	another trick, never come in my sight more.
+
+ORLANDO	My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.
+
+ROSALIND	Break an hour's promise in love! He that will
+	divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but
+	a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the
+	affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid
+	hath clapped him o' the shoulder, but I'll warrant
+	him heart-whole.
+
+ORLANDO	Pardon me, dear Rosalind.
+
+ROSALIND	Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight: I
+	had as lief be wooed of a snail.
+
+ORLANDO	Of a snail?
+
+ROSALIND	Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he
+	carries his house on his head; a better jointure,
+	I think, than you make a woman: besides he brings
+	his destiny with him.
+
+ORLANDO	What's that?
+
+ROSALIND	Why, horns, which such as you are fain to be
+	beholding to your wives for: but he comes armed in
+	his fortune and prevents the slander of his wife.
+
+ORLANDO	Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous.
+
+ROSALIND	And I am your Rosalind.
+
+CELIA	It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a
+	Rosalind of a better leer than you.
+
+ROSALIND	Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday
+	humour and like enough to consent. What would you
+	say to me now, an I were your very very Rosalind?
+
+ORLANDO	I would kiss before I spoke.
+
+ROSALIND	Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were
+	gravelled for lack of matter, you might take
+	occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are
+	out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking--God
+	warn us!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.
+
+ORLANDO	How if the kiss be denied?
+
+ROSALIND	Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter.
+
+ORLANDO	Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress?
+
+ROSALIND	Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress, or
+	I should think my honesty ranker than my wit.
+
+ORLANDO	What, of my suit?
+
+ROSALIND	Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit.
+	Am not I your Rosalind?
+
+ORLANDO	I take some joy to say you are, because I would be
+	talking of her.
+
+ROSALIND	Well in her person I say I will not have you.
+
+ORLANDO	Then in mine own person I die.
+
+ROSALIND	No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is
+	almost six thousand years old, and in all this time
+	there was not any man died in his own person,
+	videlicit, in a love-cause. Troilus had his brains
+	dashed out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he
+	could to die before, and he is one of the patterns
+	of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair
+	year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been
+	for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went
+	but forth to wash him in the Hellespont and being
+	taken with the cramp was drowned and the foolish
+	coroners of that age found it was 'Hero of Sestos.'
+	But these are all lies: men have died from time to
+	time and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
+
+ORLANDO	I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind,
+	for, I protest, her frown might kill me.
+
+ROSALIND	By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now
+	I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on
+	disposition, and ask me what you will. I will grant
+	it.
+
+ORLANDO	Then love me, Rosalind.
+
+ROSALIND	Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all.
+
+ORLANDO	And wilt thou have me?
+
+ROSALIND	Ay, and twenty such.
+
+ORLANDO	What sayest thou?
+
+ROSALIND	Are you not good?
+
+ORLANDO	I hope so.
+
+ROSALIND	Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?
+	Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us.
+	Give me your hand, Orlando. What do you say, sister?
+
+ORLANDO	Pray thee, marry us.
+
+CELIA	I cannot say the words.
+
+ROSALIND	You must begin, 'Will you, Orlando--'
+
+CELIA	Go to. Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?
+
+ORLANDO	I will.
+
+ROSALIND	Ay, but when?
+
+ORLANDO	Why now; as fast as she can marry us.
+
+ROSALIND	Then you must say 'I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.'
+
+ORLANDO	I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.
+
+ROSALIND	I might ask you for your commission; but I do take
+	thee, Orlando, for my husband: there's a girl goes
+	before the priest; and certainly a woman's thought
+	runs before her actions.
+
+ORLANDO	So do all thoughts; they are winged.
+
+ROSALIND	Now tell me how long you would have her after you
+	have possessed her.
+
+ORLANDO	For ever and a day.
+
+ROSALIND	Say 'a day,' without the 'ever.' No, no, Orlando;
+	men are April when they woo, December when they wed:
+	maids are May when they are maids, but the sky
+	changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous
+	of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen,
+	more clamorous than a parrot against rain, more
+	new-fangled than an ape, more giddy in my desires
+	than a monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Diana
+	in the fountain, and I will do that when you are
+	disposed to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and
+	that when thou art inclined to sleep.
+
+ORLANDO	But will my Rosalind do so?
+
+ROSALIND	By my life, she will do as I do.
+
+ORLANDO	O, but she is wise.
+
+ROSALIND	Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the
+	wiser, the waywarder: make the doors upon a woman's
+	wit and it will out at the casement; shut that and
+	'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly
+	with the smoke out at the chimney.
+
+ORLANDO	A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say
+	'Wit, whither wilt?'
+
+ROSALIND	Nay, you might keep that cheque for it till you met
+	your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed.
+
+ORLANDO	And what wit could wit have to excuse that?
+
+ROSALIND	Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You shall
+	never take her without her answer, unless you take
+	her without her tongue. O, that woman that cannot
+	make her fault her husband's occasion, let her
+	never nurse her child herself, for she will breed
+	it like a fool!
+
+ORLANDO	For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee.
+
+ROSALIND	Alas! dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours.
+
+ORLANDO	I must attend the duke at dinner: by two o'clock I
+	will be with thee again.
+
+ROSALIND	Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knew what you
+	would prove: my friends told me as much, and I
+	thought no less: that flattering tongue of yours
+	won me: 'tis but one cast away, and so, come,
+	death! Two o'clock is your hour?
+
+ORLANDO	Ay, sweet Rosalind.
+
+ROSALIND	By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend
+	me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous,
+	if you break one jot of your promise or come one
+	minute behind your hour, I will think you the most
+	pathetical break-promise and the most hollow lover
+	and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind that
+	may be chosen out of the gross band of the
+	unfaithful: therefore beware my censure and keep
+	your promise.
+
+ORLANDO	With no less religion than if thou wert indeed my
+	Rosalind: so adieu.
+
+ROSALIND	Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such
+	offenders, and let Time try: adieu.
+
+	[Exit ORLANDO]
+
+CELIA	You have simply misused our sex in your love-prate:
+	we must have your doublet and hose plucked over your
+	head, and show the world what the bird hath done to
+	her own nest.
+
+ROSALIND	O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou
+	didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But
+	it cannot be sounded: my affection hath an unknown
+	bottom, like the bay of Portugal.
+
+CELIA	Or rather, bottomless, that as fast as you pour
+	affection in, it runs out.
+
+ROSALIND	No, that same wicked bastard of Venus that was begot
+	of thought, conceived of spleen and born of madness,
+	that blind rascally boy that abuses every one's eyes
+	because his own are out, let him be judge how deep I
+	am in love. I'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out
+	of the sight of Orlando: I'll go find a shadow and
+	sigh till he come.
+
+CELIA	And I'll sleep.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The forest.
+
+
+	[Enter JAQUES, Lords, and Foresters]
+
+JAQUES	Which is he that killed the deer?
+
+A Lord	Sir, it was I.
+
+JAQUES	Let's present him to the duke, like a Roman
+	conqueror; and it would do well to set the deer's
+	horns upon his head, for a branch of victory. Have
+	you no song, forester, for this purpose?
+
+Forester	Yes, sir.
+
+JAQUES	Sing it: 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it
+	make noise enough.
+	
+	SONG.
+Forester	What shall he have that kill'd the deer?
+	His leather skin and horns to wear.
+	Then sing him home;
+
+	[The rest shall bear this burden]
+
+	Take thou no scorn to wear the horn;
+	It was a crest ere thou wast born:
+	Thy father's father wore it,
+	And thy father bore it:
+	The horn, the horn, the lusty horn
+	Is not a thing to laugh to scorn.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The forest.
+
+
+	[Enter ROSALIND and CELIA]
+
+ROSALIND	How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? and
+	here much Orlando!
+
+CELIA	I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain, he
+	hath ta'en his bow and arrows and is gone forth to
+	sleep. Look, who comes here.
+
+	[Enter SILVIUS]
+
+SILVIUS	My errand is to you, fair youth;
+	My gentle Phebe bid me give you this:
+	I know not the contents; but, as I guess
+	By the stern brow and waspish action
+	Which she did use as she was writing of it,
+	It bears an angry tenor: pardon me:
+	I am but as a guiltless messenger.
+
+ROSALIND	Patience herself would startle at this letter
+	And play the swaggerer; bear this, bear all:
+	She says I am not fair, that I lack manners;
+	She calls me proud, and that she could not love me,
+	Were man as rare as phoenix. 'Od's my will!
+	Her love is not the hare that I do hunt:
+	Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well,
+	This is a letter of your own device.
+
+SILVIUS	No, I protest, I know not the contents:
+	Phebe did write it.
+
+ROSALIND	Come, come, you are a fool
+	And turn'd into the extremity of love.
+	I saw her hand: she has a leathern hand.
+	A freestone-colour'd hand; I verily did think
+	That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands:
+	She has a huswife's hand; but that's no matter:
+	I say she never did invent this letter;
+	This is a man's invention and his hand.
+
+SILVIUS	Sure, it is hers.
+
+ROSALIND	Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style.
+	A style for-challengers; why, she defies me,
+	Like Turk to Christian: women's gentle brain
+	Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention
+	Such Ethiope words, blacker in their effect
+	Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letter?
+
+SILVIUS	So please you, for I never heard it yet;
+	Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty.
+
+ROSALIND	She Phebes me: mark how the tyrant writes.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	Art thou god to shepherd turn'd,
+	That a maiden's heart hath burn'd?
+	Can a woman rail thus?
+
+SILVIUS	Call you this railing?
+
+ROSALIND	[Reads]
+
+	Why, thy godhead laid apart,
+	Warr'st thou with a woman's heart?
+	Did you ever hear such railing?
+	Whiles the eye of man did woo me,
+	That could do no vengeance to me.
+	Meaning me a beast.
+	If the scorn of your bright eyne
+	Have power to raise such love in mine,
+	Alack, in me what strange effect
+	Would they work in mild aspect!
+	Whiles you chid me, I did love;
+	How then might your prayers move!
+	He that brings this love to thee
+	Little knows this love in me:
+	And by him seal up thy mind;
+	Whether that thy youth and kind
+	Will the faithful offer take
+	Of me and all that I can make;
+	Or else by him my love deny,
+	And then I'll study how to die.
+
+SILVIUS	Call you this chiding?
+
+CELIA	Alas, poor shepherd!
+
+ROSALIND	Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity. Wilt
+	thou love such a woman? What, to make thee an
+	instrument and play false strains upon thee! not to
+	be endured! Well, go your way to her, for I see
+	love hath made thee a tame snake, and say this to
+	her: that if she love me, I charge her to love
+	thee; if she will not, I will never have her unless
+	thou entreat for her. If you be a true lover,
+	hence, and not a word; for here comes more company.
+
+	[Exit SILVIUS]
+
+	[Enter OLIVER]
+
+OLIVER	Good morrow, fair ones: pray you, if you know,
+	Where in the purlieus of this forest stands
+	A sheep-cote fenced about with olive trees?
+
+CELIA	West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom:
+	The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream
+	Left on your right hand brings you to the place.
+	But at this hour the house doth keep itself;
+	There's none within.
+
+OLIVER	If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
+	Then should I know you by description;
+	Such garments and such years: 'The boy is fair,
+	Of female favour, and bestows himself
+	Like a ripe sister: the woman low
+	And browner than her brother.' Are not you
+	The owner of the house I did inquire for?
+
+CELIA	It is no boast, being ask'd, to say we are.
+
+OLIVER	Orlando doth commend him to you both,
+	And to that youth he calls his Rosalind
+	He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he?
+
+ROSALIND	I am: what must we understand by this?
+
+OLIVER	Some of my shame; if you will know of me
+	What man I am, and how, and why, and where
+	This handkercher was stain'd.
+
+CELIA	I pray you, tell it.
+
+OLIVER	When last the young Orlando parted from you
+	He left a promise to return again
+	Within an hour, and pacing through the forest,
+	Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy,
+	Lo, what befell! he threw his eye aside,
+	And mark what object did present itself:
+	Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age
+	And high top bald with dry antiquity,
+	A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair,
+	Lay sleeping on his back: about his neck
+	A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself,
+	Who with her head nimble in threats approach'd
+	The opening of his mouth; but suddenly,
+	Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself,
+	And with indented glides did slip away
+	Into a bush: under which bush's shade
+	A lioness, with udders all drawn dry,
+	Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch,
+	When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis
+	The royal disposition of that beast
+	To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead:
+	This seen, Orlando did approach the man
+	And found it was his brother, his elder brother.
+
+CELIA	O, I have heard him speak of that same brother;
+	And he did render him the most unnatural
+	That lived amongst men.
+
+OLIVER	And well he might so do,
+	For well I know he was unnatural.
+
+ROSALIND	But, to Orlando: did he leave him there,
+	Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness?
+
+OLIVER	Twice did he turn his back and purposed so;
+	But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,
+	And nature, stronger than his just occasion,
+	Made him give battle to the lioness,
+	Who quickly fell before him: in which hurtling
+	From miserable slumber I awaked.
+
+CELIA	Are you his brother?
+
+ROSALIND	Wast you he rescued?
+
+CELIA	Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him?
+
+OLIVER	'Twas I; but 'tis not I	I do not shame
+	To tell you what I was, since my conversion
+	So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.
+
+ROSALIND	But, for the bloody napkin?
+
+OLIVER	By and by.
+	When from the first to last betwixt us two
+	Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed,
+	As how I came into that desert place:--
+	In brief, he led me to the gentle duke,
+	Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,
+	Committing me unto my brother's love;
+	Who led me instantly unto his cave,
+	There stripp'd himself, and here upon his arm
+	The lioness had torn some flesh away,
+	Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted
+	And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind.
+	Brief, I recover'd him, bound up his wound;
+	And, after some small space, being strong at heart,
+	He sent me hither, stranger as I am,
+	To tell this story, that you might excuse
+	His broken promise, and to give this napkin
+	Dyed in his blood unto the shepherd youth
+	That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.
+
+	[ROSALIND swoons]
+
+CELIA	Why, how now, Ganymede! sweet Ganymede!
+
+OLIVER	Many will swoon when they do look on blood.
+
+CELIA	There is more in it. Cousin Ganymede!
+
+OLIVER	Look, he recovers.
+
+ROSALIND	I would I were at home.
+
+CELIA	We'll lead you thither.
+	I pray you, will you take him by the arm?
+
+OLIVER	Be of good cheer, youth: you a man! you lack a
+	man's heart.
+
+ROSALIND	I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body would
+	think this was well counterfeited! I pray you, tell
+	your brother how well I counterfeited. Heigh-ho!
+
+OLIVER	This was not counterfeit: there is too great
+	testimony in your complexion that it was a passion
+	of earnest.
+
+ROSALIND	Counterfeit, I assure you.
+
+OLIVER	Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a man.
+
+ROSALIND	So I do: but, i' faith, I should have been a woman by right.
+
+CELIA	Come, you look paler and paler: pray you, draw
+	homewards. Good sir, go with us.
+
+OLIVER	That will I, for I must bear answer back
+	How you excuse my brother, Rosalind.
+
+ROSALIND	I shall devise something: but, I pray you, commend
+	my counterfeiting to him. Will you go?
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The forest.
+
+
+	[Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY]
+
+TOUCHSTONE	We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey.
+
+AUDREY	Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old
+	gentleman's saying.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile
+	Martext. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the
+	forest lays claim to you.
+
+AUDREY	Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in me in
+	the world: here comes the man you mean.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	It is meat and drink to me to see a clown: by my
+	troth, we that have good wits have much to answer
+	for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold.
+
+	[Enter WILLIAM]
+
+WILLIAM	Good even, Audrey.
+
+AUDREY	God ye good even, William.
+
+WILLIAM	And good even to you, sir.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy
+	head; nay, prithee, be covered. How old are you, friend?
+
+WILLIAM	Five and twenty, sir.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	A ripe age. Is thy name William?
+
+WILLIAM	William, sir.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	A fair name. Wast born i' the forest here?
+
+WILLIAM	Ay, sir, I thank God.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	'Thank God;' a good answer. Art rich?
+
+WILLIAM	Faith, sir, so so.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	'So so' is good, very good, very excellent good; and
+	yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise?
+
+WILLIAM	Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Why, thou sayest well. I do now remember a saying,
+	'The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man
+	knows himself to be a fool.' The heathen
+	philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape,
+	would open his lips when he put it into his mouth;
+	meaning thereby that grapes were made to eat and
+	lips to open. You do love this maid?
+
+WILLIAM	I do, sir.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Give me your hand. Art thou learned?
+
+WILLIAM	No, sir.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Then learn this of me: to have, is to have; for it
+	is a figure in rhetoric that drink, being poured out
+	of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty
+	the other; for all your writers do consent that ipse
+	is he: now, you are not ipse, for I am he.
+
+WILLIAM	Which he, sir?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	He, sir, that must marry this woman. Therefore, you
+	clown, abandon,--which is in the vulgar leave,--the
+	society,--which in the boorish is company,--of this
+	female,--which in the common is woman; which
+	together is, abandon the society of this female, or,
+	clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better
+	understanding, diest; or, to wit I kill thee, make
+	thee away, translate thy life into death, thy
+	liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with
+	thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy
+	with thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with
+	policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways:
+	therefore tremble and depart.
+
+AUDREY	Do, good William.
+
+WILLIAM	God rest you merry, sir.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter CORIN]
+
+CORIN	Our master and mistress seeks you; come, away, away!
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Trip, Audrey! trip, Audrey! I attend, I attend.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The forest.
+
+
+	[Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER]
+
+ORLANDO	Is't possible that on so little acquaintance you
+	should like her? that but seeing you should love
+	her? and loving woo? and, wooing, she should
+	grant? and will you persever to enjoy her?
+
+OLIVER	Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the
+	poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden
+	wooing, nor her sudden consenting; but say with me,
+	I love Aliena; say with her that she loves me;
+	consent with both that we may enjoy each other: it
+	shall be to your good; for my father's house and all
+	the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's will I
+	estate upon you, and here live and die a shepherd.
+
+ORLANDO	You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow:
+	thither will I invite the duke and all's contented
+	followers. Go you and prepare Aliena; for look
+	you, here comes my Rosalind.
+
+	[Enter ROSALIND]
+
+ROSALIND	God save you, brother.
+
+OLIVER	And you, fair sister.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ROSALIND	O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee
+	wear thy heart in a scarf!
+
+ORLANDO	It is my arm.
+
+ROSALIND	I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws
+	of a lion.
+
+ORLANDO	Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady.
+
+ROSALIND	Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to
+	swoon when he showed me your handkerchief?
+
+ORLANDO	Ay, and greater wonders than that.
+
+ROSALIND	O, I know where you are: nay, 'tis true: there was
+	never any thing so sudden but the fight of two rams
+	and Caesar's thrasonical brag of 'I came, saw, and
+	overcame:' for your brother and my sister no sooner
+	met but they looked, no sooner looked but they
+	loved, no sooner loved but they sighed, no sooner
+	sighed but they asked one another the reason, no
+	sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy;
+	and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs
+	to marriage which they will climb incontinent, or
+	else be incontinent before marriage: they are in
+	the very wrath of love and they will together; clubs
+	cannot part them.
+
+ORLANDO	They shall be married to-morrow, and I will bid the
+	duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a thing it
+	is to look into happiness through another man's
+	eyes! By so much the more shall I to-morrow be at
+	the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall
+	think my brother happy in having what he wishes for.
+
+ROSALIND	Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind?
+
+ORLANDO	I can live no longer by thinking.
+
+ROSALIND	I will weary you then no longer with idle talking.
+	Know of me then, for now I speak to some purpose,
+	that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I
+	speak not this that you should bear a good opinion
+	of my knowledge, insomuch I say I know you are;
+	neither do I labour for a greater esteem than may in
+	some little measure draw a belief from you, to do
+	yourself good and not to grace me. Believe then, if
+	you please, that I can do strange things: I have,
+	since I was three year old, conversed with a
+	magician, most profound in his art and yet not
+	damnable. If you do love Rosalind so near the heart
+	as your gesture cries it out, when your brother
+	marries Aliena, shall you marry her: I know into
+	what straits of fortune she is driven; and it is
+	not impossible to me, if it appear not inconvenient
+	to you, to set her before your eyes tomorrow human
+	as she is and without any danger.
+
+ORLANDO	Speakest thou in sober meanings?
+
+ROSALIND	By my life, I do; which I tender dearly, though I
+	say I am a magician. Therefore, put you in your
+	best array: bid your friends; for if you will be
+	married to-morrow, you shall, and to Rosalind, if you will.
+
+	[Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE]
+
+	Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover of hers.
+
+PHEBE	Youth, you have done me much ungentleness,
+	To show the letter that I writ to you.
+
+ROSALIND	I care not if I have: it is my study
+	To seem despiteful and ungentle to you:
+	You are there followed by a faithful shepherd;
+	Look upon him, love him; he worships you.
+
+PHEBE	Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love.
+
+SILVIUS	It is to be all made of sighs and tears;
+	And so am I for Phebe.
+
+PHEBE	And I for Ganymede.
+
+ORLANDO	And I for Rosalind.
+
+ROSALIND	And I for no woman.
+
+SILVIUS	It is to be all made of faith and service;
+	And so am I for Phebe.
+
+PHEBE	And I for Ganymede.
+
+ORLANDO	And I for Rosalind.
+
+ROSALIND	And I for no woman.
+
+SILVIUS	It is to be all made of fantasy,
+	All made of passion and all made of wishes,
+	All adoration, duty, and observance,
+	All humbleness, all patience and impatience,
+	All purity, all trial, all observance;
+	And so am I for Phebe.
+
+PHEBE	And so am I for Ganymede.
+
+ORLANDO	And so am I for Rosalind.
+
+ROSALIND	And so am I for no woman.
+
+PHEBE	If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
+
+SILVIUS	If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
+
+ORLANDO	If this be so, why blame you me to love you?
+
+ROSALIND	Who do you speak to, 'Why blame you me to love you?'
+
+ORLANDO	To her that is not here, nor doth not hear.
+
+ROSALIND	Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling
+	of Irish wolves against the moon.
+
+	[To SILVIUS]
+
+	I will help you, if I can:
+
+	[To PHEBE]
+
+	I would love you, if I could. To-morrow meet me all together.
+
+	[To PHEBE]
+
+	I will marry you, if ever I marry woman, and I'll be
+	married to-morrow:
+
+	[To ORLANDO]
+
+	I will satisfy you, if ever I satisfied man, and you
+	shall be married to-morrow:
+
+	[To SILVIUS]
+
+	I will content you, if what pleases you contents
+	you, and you shall be married to-morrow.
+
+	[To ORLANDO]
+
+	As you love Rosalind, meet:
+
+	[To SILVIUS]
+
+	as you love Phebe, meet: and as I love no woman,
+	I'll meet. So fare you well: I have left you commands.
+
+SILVIUS	I'll not fail, if I live.
+
+PHEBE	Nor I.
+
+ORLANDO	Nor I.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The forest.
+
+
+	[Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY]
+
+TOUCHSTONE	To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; to-morrow will
+	we be married.
+
+AUDREY	I do desire it with all my heart; and I hope it is
+	no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the
+	world. Here comes two of the banished duke's pages.
+
+	[Enter two Pages]
+
+First Page	Well met, honest gentleman.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and a song.
+
+Second Page	We are for you: sit i' the middle.
+
+First Page	Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking or
+	spitting or saying we are hoarse, which are the only
+	prologues to a bad voice?
+
+Second Page	I'faith, i'faith; and both in a tune, like two
+	gipsies on a horse.
+	
+	SONG.
+	It was a lover and his lass,
+	With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
+	That o'er the green corn-field did pass
+	In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
+	When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding:
+	Sweet lovers love the spring.
+
+	Between the acres of the rye,
+	With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino
+	These pretty country folks would lie,
+	In spring time, &c.
+
+	This carol they began that hour,
+	With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
+	How that a life was but a flower
+	In spring time, &c.
+
+	And therefore take the present time,
+	With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino;
+	For love is crowned with the prime
+	In spring time, &c.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great
+	matter in the ditty, yet the note was very
+	untuneable.
+
+First Page	You are deceived, sir: we kept time, we lost not our time.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear
+	such a foolish song. God be wi' you; and God mend
+	your voices! Come, Audrey.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The forest.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER,
+	and CELIA]
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy
+	Can do all this that he hath promised?
+
+ORLANDO	I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not;
+	As those that fear they hope, and know they fear.
+
+	[Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE]
+
+ROSALIND	Patience once more, whiles our compact is urged:
+	You say, if I bring in your Rosalind,
+	You will bestow her on Orlando here?
+
+DUKE SENIOR	That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her.
+
+ROSALIND	And you say, you will have her, when I bring her?
+
+ORLANDO	That would I, were I of all kingdoms king.
+
+ROSALIND	You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing?
+
+PHEBE	That will I, should I die the hour after.
+
+ROSALIND	But if you do refuse to marry me,
+	You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd?
+
+PHEBE	So is the bargain.
+
+ROSALIND	You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she will?
+
+SILVIUS	Though to have her and death were both one thing.
+
+ROSALIND	I have promised to make all this matter even.
+	Keep you your word, O duke, to give your daughter;
+	You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter:
+	Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me,
+	Or else refusing me, to wed this shepherd:
+	Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her.
+	If she refuse me: and from hence I go,
+	To make these doubts all even.
+
+	[Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA]
+
+DUKE SENIOR	I do remember in this shepherd boy
+	Some lively touches of my daughter's favour.
+
+ORLANDO	My lord, the first time that I ever saw him
+	Methought he was a brother to your daughter:
+	But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born,
+	And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments
+	Of many desperate studies by his uncle,
+	Whom he reports to be a great magician,
+	Obscured in the circle of this forest.
+
+	[Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY]
+
+JAQUES	There is, sure, another flood toward, and these
+	couples are coming to the ark. Here comes a pair of
+	very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Salutation and greeting to you all!
+
+JAQUES	Good my lord, bid him welcome: this is the
+	motley-minded gentleman that I have so often met in
+	the forest: he hath been a courtier, he swears.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	If any man doubt that, let him put me to my
+	purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flattered
+	a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth
+	with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have
+	had four quarrels, and like to have fought one.
+
+JAQUES	And how was that ta'en up?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the
+	seventh cause.
+
+JAQUES	How seventh cause? Good my lord, like this fellow.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	I like him very well.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	God 'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like. I
+	press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country
+	copulatives, to swear and to forswear: according as
+	marriage binds and blood breaks: a poor virgin,
+	sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor
+	humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else
+	will: rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a
+	poor house; as your pearl in your foul oyster.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	By my faith, he is very swift and sententious.
+
+TOUCHSTONE	According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet diseases.
+
+JAQUES	But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the
+	quarrel on the seventh cause?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	Upon a lie seven times removed:--bear your body more
+	seeming, Audrey:--as thus, sir. I did dislike the
+	cut of a certain courtier's beard: he sent me word,
+	if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the
+	mind it was: this is called the Retort Courteous.
+	If I sent him word again 'it was not well cut,' he
+	would send me word, he cut it to please himself:
+	this is called the Quip Modest. If again 'it was
+	not well cut,' he disabled my judgment: this is
+	called the Reply Churlish. If again 'it was not
+	well cut,' he would answer, I spake not true: this
+	is called the Reproof Valiant. If again 'it was not
+	well cut,' he would say I lied: this is called the
+	Counter-cheque Quarrelsome: and so to the Lie
+	Circumstantial and the Lie Direct.
+
+JAQUES	And how oft did you say his beard was not well cut?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	I durst go no further than the Lie Circumstantial,
+	nor he durst not give me the Lie Direct; and so we
+	measured swords and parted.
+
+JAQUES	Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie?
+
+TOUCHSTONE	O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have
+	books for good manners: I will name you the degrees.
+	The first, the Retort Courteous; the second, the
+	Quip Modest; the third, the Reply Churlish; the
+	fourth, the Reproof Valiant; the fifth, the
+	Countercheque Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with
+	Circumstance; the seventh, the Lie Direct. All
+	these you may avoid but the Lie Direct; and you may
+	avoid that too, with an If. I knew when seven
+	justices could not take up a quarrel, but when the
+	parties were met themselves, one of them thought but
+	of an If, as, 'If you said so, then I said so;' and
+	they shook hands and swore brothers. Your If is the
+	only peacemaker; much virtue in If.
+
+JAQUES	Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at
+	any thing and yet a fool.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	He uses his folly like a stalking-horse and under
+	the presentation of that he shoots his wit.
+
+	[Enter HYMEN, ROSALIND, and CELIA]
+
+	[Still Music]
+
+HYMEN	        Then is there mirth in heaven,
+	When earthly things made even
+	Atone together.
+	Good duke, receive thy daughter
+	Hymen from heaven brought her,
+	Yea, brought her hither,
+	That thou mightst join her hand with his
+	Whose heart within his bosom is.
+
+ROSALIND	[To DUKE SENIOR]  To you I give myself, for I am yours.
+
+	[To ORLANDO]
+
+	To you I give myself, for I am yours.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter.
+
+ORLANDO	If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind.
+
+PHEBE	If sight and shape be true,
+	Why then, my love adieu!
+
+ROSALIND	I'll have no father, if you be not he:
+	I'll have no husband, if you be not he:
+	Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she.
+
+HYMEN	        Peace, ho! I bar confusion:
+	'Tis I must make conclusion
+	Of these most strange events:
+	Here's eight that must take hands
+	To join in Hymen's bands,
+	If truth holds true contents.
+	You and you no cross shall part:
+	You and you are heart in heart
+	You to his love must accord,
+	Or have a woman to your lord:
+	You and you are sure together,
+	As the winter to foul weather.
+	Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing,
+	Feed yourselves with questioning;
+	That reason wonder may diminish,
+	How thus we met, and these things finish.
+	
+	SONG.
+	Wedding is great Juno's crown:
+	O blessed bond of board and bed!
+	'Tis Hymen peoples every town;
+	High wedlock then be honoured:
+	Honour, high honour and renown,
+	To Hymen, god of every town!
+
+DUKE SENIOR	O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me!
+	Even daughter, welcome, in no less degree.
+
+PHEBE	I will not eat my word, now thou art mine;
+	Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.
+
+	[Enter JAQUES DE BOYS]
+
+JAQUES DE BOYS	Let me have audience for a word or two:
+	I am the second son of old Sir Rowland,
+	That bring these tidings to this fair assembly.
+	Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day
+	Men of great worth resorted to this forest,
+	Address'd a mighty power; which were on foot,
+	In his own conduct, purposely to take
+	His brother here and put him to the sword:
+	And to the skirts of this wild wood he came;
+	Where meeting with an old religious man,
+	After some question with him, was converted
+	Both from his enterprise and from the world,
+	His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother,
+	And all their lands restored to them again
+	That were with him exiled. This to be true,
+	I do engage my life.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Welcome, young man;
+	Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding:
+	To one his lands withheld, and to the other
+	A land itself at large, a potent dukedom.
+	First, in this forest, let us do those ends
+	That here were well begun and well begot:
+	And after, every of this happy number
+	That have endured shrewd days and nights with us
+	Shall share the good of our returned fortune,
+	According to the measure of their states.
+	Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity
+	And fall into our rustic revelry.
+	Play, music! And you, brides and bridegrooms all,
+	With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall.
+
+JAQUES	Sir, by your patience. If I heard you rightly,
+	The duke hath put on a religious life
+	And thrown into neglect the pompous court?
+
+JAQUES DE BOYS	He hath.
+
+JAQUES	To him will I : out of these convertites
+	There is much matter to be heard and learn'd.
+
+	[To DUKE SENIOR]
+
+	You to your former honour I bequeath;
+	Your patience and your virtue well deserves it:
+
+	[To ORLANDO]
+
+	You to a love that your true faith doth merit:
+
+	[To OLIVER]
+
+	You to your land and love and great allies:
+
+	[To SILVIUS]
+
+	You to a long and well-deserved bed:
+
+	[To TOUCHSTONE]
+
+	And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage
+	Is but for two months victuall'd. So, to your pleasures:
+	I am for other than for dancing measures.
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Stay, Jaques, stay.
+
+JAQUES	To see no pastime I	what you would have
+	I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DUKE SENIOR	Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites,
+	As we do trust they'll end, in true delights.
+
+	[A dance]
+
+
+
+
+	AS YOU LIKE IT
+
+	EPILOGUE
+
+
+ROSALIND	It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue;
+	but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord
+	the prologue. If it be true that good wine needs
+	no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no
+	epilogue; yet to good wine they do use good bushes,
+	and good plays prove the better by the help of good
+	epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am
+	neither a good epilogue nor cannot insinuate with
+	you in the behalf of a good play! I am not
+	furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not
+	become me: my way is to conjure you; and I'll begin
+	with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love
+	you bear to men, to like as much of this play as
+	please you: and I charge you, O men, for the love
+	you bear to women--as I perceive by your simpering,
+	none of you hates them--that between you and the
+	women the play may please. If I were a woman I
+	would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased
+	me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I
+	defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good
+	beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my
+	kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+SOLINUS	Duke of Ephesus. (DUKE SOLINUS:)
+
+AEGEON	a merchant of Syracuse.
+
+
+ANTIPHOLUS	|
+OF EPHESUS	|
+	|  twin brothers, and sons to AEgeon and AEmilia.
+ANTIPHOLUS	|
+OF SYRACUSE	|
+
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	|
+	|  twin brothers, and attendants on the two Antipholuses.
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	|
+
+
+BALTHAZAR	a merchant
+
+ANGELO	a goldsmith.
+
+First Merchant	friend to Antipholus of Syracuse.
+
+Second Merchant	to whom Angelo is a debtor.
+
+PINCH	a schoolmaster.
+
+AEMILIA	wife to AEgeon, an abbess at Ephesus.
+
+ADRIANA	wife to Antipholus of Ephesus.
+
+LUCIANA	her sister.
+
+LUCE	servant to Adriana.
+
+	A Courtezan.
+
+	Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants
+	(Gaoler:)
+	(Officer:)
+	(Servant:)
+
+SCENE	Ephesus.
+
+
+
+
+	THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A hall in DUKE SOLINUS'S palace.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE SOLINUS, AEGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other
+	Attendants]
+
+AEGEON	Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall
+	And by the doom of death end woes and all.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Merchant of Syracuse, plead no more;
+	I am not partial to infringe our laws:
+	The enmity and discord which of late
+	Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke
+	To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen,
+	Who wanting guilders to redeem their lives
+	Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods,
+	Excludes all pity from our threatening looks.
+	For, since the mortal and intestine jars
+	'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us,
+	It hath in solemn synods been decreed
+	Both by the Syracusians and ourselves,
+	To admit no traffic to our adverse towns Nay, more,
+	If any born at Ephesus be seen
+	At any Syracusian marts and fairs;
+	Again: if any Syracusian born
+	Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies,
+	His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose,
+	Unless a thousand marks be levied,
+	To quit the penalty and to ransom him.
+	Thy substance, valued at the highest rate,
+	Cannot amount unto a hundred marks;
+	Therefore by law thou art condemned to die.
+
+AEGEON	Yet this my comfort: when your words are done,
+	My woes end likewise with the evening sun.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause
+	Why thou departed'st from thy native home
+	And for what cause thou camest to Ephesus.
+
+AEGEON	A heavier task could not have been imposed
+	Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable:
+	Yet, that the world may witness that my end
+	Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence,
+	I'll utter what my sorrows give me leave.
+	In Syracusa was I born, and wed
+	Unto a woman, happy but for me,
+	And by me, had not our hap been bad.
+	With her I lived in joy; our wealth increased
+	By prosperous voyages I often made
+	To Epidamnum; till my factor's death
+	And the great care of goods at random left
+	Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse:
+	From whom my absence was not six months old
+	Before herself, almost at fainting under
+	The pleasing punishment that women bear,
+	Had made provision for her following me
+	And soon and safe arrived where I was.
+	There had she not been long, but she became
+	A joyful mother of two goodly sons;
+	And, which was strange, the one so like the other,
+	As could not be distinguish'd but by names.
+	That very hour, and in the self-same inn,
+	A meaner woman was delivered
+	Of such a burden, male twins, both alike:
+	Those,--for their parents were exceeding poor,--
+	I bought and brought up to attend my sons.
+	My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys,
+	Made daily motions for our home return:
+	Unwilling I agreed. Alas! too soon,
+	We came aboard.
+	A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd,
+	Before the always wind-obeying deep
+	Gave any tragic instance of our harm:
+	But longer did we not retain much hope;
+	For what obscured light the heavens did grant
+	Did but convey unto our fearful minds
+	A doubtful warrant of immediate death;
+	Which though myself would gladly have embraced,
+	Yet the incessant weepings of my wife,
+	Weeping before for what she saw must come,
+	And piteous plainings of the pretty babes,
+	That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear,
+	Forced me to seek delays for them and me.
+	And this it was, for other means was none:
+	The sailors sought for safety by our boat,
+	And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us:
+	My wife, more careful for the latter-born,
+	Had fasten'd him unto a small spare mast,
+	Such as seafaring men provide for storms;
+	To him one of the other twins was bound,
+	Whilst I had been like heedful of the other:
+	The children thus disposed, my wife and I,
+	Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd,
+	Fasten'd ourselves at either end the mast;
+	And floating straight, obedient to the stream,
+	Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought.
+	At length the sun, gazing upon the earth,
+	Dispersed those vapours that offended us;
+	And by the benefit of his wished light,
+	The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered
+	Two ships from far making amain to us,
+	Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this:
+	But ere they came,--O, let me say no more!
+	Gather the sequel by that went before.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Nay, forward, old man; do not break off so;
+	For we may pity, though not pardon thee.
+
+AEGEON	O, had the gods done so, I had not now
+	Worthily term'd them merciless to us!
+	For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues,
+	We were encounterd by a mighty rock;
+	Which being violently borne upon,
+	Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst;
+	So that, in this unjust divorce of us,
+	Fortune had left to both of us alike
+	What to delight in, what to sorrow for.
+	Her part, poor soul! seeming as burdened
+	With lesser weight but not with lesser woe,
+	Was carried with more speed before the wind;
+	And in our sight they three were taken up
+	By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought.
+	At length, another ship had seized on us;
+	And, knowing whom it was their hap to save,
+	Gave healthful welcome to their shipwreck'd guests;
+	And would have reft the fishers of their prey,
+	Had not their bark been very slow of sail;
+	And therefore homeward did they bend their course.
+	Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss;
+	That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd,
+	To tell sad stories of my own mishaps.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for,
+	Do me the favour to dilate at full
+	What hath befall'n of them and thee till now.
+
+AEGEON	My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care,
+	At eighteen years became inquisitive
+	After his brother: and importuned me
+	That his attendant--so his case was like,
+	Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name--
+	Might bear him company in the quest of him:
+	Whom whilst I labour'd of a love to see,
+	I hazarded the loss of whom I loved.
+	Five summers have I spent in furthest Greece,
+	Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia,
+	And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus;
+	Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought
+	Or that or any place that harbours men.
+	But here must end the story of my life;
+	And happy were I in my timely death,
+	Could all my travels warrant me they live.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Hapless AEgeon, whom the fates have mark'd
+	To bear the extremity of dire mishap!
+	Now, trust me, were it not against our laws,
+	Against my crown, my oath, my dignity,
+	Which princes, would they, may not disannul,
+	My soul would sue as advocate for thee.
+	But, though thou art adjudged to the death
+	And passed sentence may not be recall'd
+	But to our honour's great disparagement,
+	Yet I will favour thee in what I can.
+	Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day
+	To seek thy life by beneficial help:
+	Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus;
+	Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum,
+	And live; if no, then thou art doom'd to die.
+	Gaoler, take him to thy custody.
+
+Gaoler	I will, my lord.
+
+AEGEON	Hopeless and helpless doth AEgeon wend,
+	But to procrastinate his lifeless end.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The Mart.
+
+
+	[Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, DROMIO of Syracuse,
+	and First Merchant]
+
+First Merchant	Therefore give out you are of Epidamnum,
+	Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate.
+	This very day a Syracusian merchant
+	Is apprehended for arrival here;
+	And not being able to buy out his life
+	According to the statute of the town,
+	Dies ere the weary sun set in the west.
+	There is your money that I had to keep.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host,
+	And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee.
+	Within this hour it will be dinner-time:
+	Till that, I'll view the manners of the town,
+	Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings,
+	And then return and sleep within mine inn,
+	For with long travel I am stiff and weary.
+	Get thee away.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Many a man would take you at your word,
+	And go indeed, having so good a mean.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	A trusty villain, sir, that very oft,
+	When I am dull with care and melancholy,
+	Lightens my humour with his merry jests.
+	What, will you walk with me about the town,
+	And then go to my inn and dine with me?
+
+First Merchant	I am invited, sir, to certain merchants,
+	Of whom I hope to make much benefit;
+	I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock,
+	Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart
+	And afterward consort you till bed-time:
+	My present business calls me from you now.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Farewell till then: I will go lose myself
+	And wander up and down to view the city.
+
+First Merchant	Sir, I commend you to your own content.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	He that commends me to mine own content
+	Commends me to the thing I cannot get.
+	I to the world am like a drop of water
+	That in the ocean seeks another drop,
+	Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
+	Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself:
+	So I, to find a mother and a brother,
+	In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.
+
+	[Enter DROMIO of Ephesus]
+
+	Here comes the almanac of my true date.
+	What now? how chance thou art return'd so soon?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too late:
+	The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit,
+	The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell;
+	My mistress made it one upon my cheek:
+	She is so hot because the meat is cold;
+	The meat is cold because you come not home;
+	You come not home because you have no stomach;
+	You have no stomach having broke your fast;
+	But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray
+	Are penitent for your default to-day.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray:
+	Where have you left the money that I gave you?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	O,--sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last
+	To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper?
+	The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	I am not in a sportive humour now:
+	Tell me, and dally not, where is the money?
+	We being strangers here, how darest thou trust
+	So great a charge from thine own custody?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	I pray you, air, as you sit at dinner:
+	I from my mistress come to you in post;
+	If I return, I shall be post indeed,
+	For she will score your fault upon my pate.
+	Methinks your maw, like mine, should be your clock,
+	And strike you home without a messenger.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season;
+	Reserve them till a merrier hour than this.
+	Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness,
+	And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	My charge was but to fetch you from the mart
+	Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner:
+	My mistress and her sister stays for you.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	In what safe place you have bestow'd my money,
+	Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours
+	That stands on tricks when I am undisposed:
+	Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	I have some marks of yours upon my pate,
+	Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders,
+	But not a thousand marks between you both.
+	If I should pay your worship those again,
+	Perchance you will not bear them patiently.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou?
+
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix;
+	She that doth fast till you come home to dinner,
+	And prays that you will hie you home to dinner.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face,
+	Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands!
+	Nay, and you will not, sir, I'll take my heels.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Upon my life, by some device or other
+	The villain is o'er-raught of all my money.
+	They say this town is full of cozenage,
+	As, nimble jugglers that deceive the eye,
+	Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind,
+	Soul-killing witches that deform the body,
+	Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks,
+	And many such-like liberties of sin:
+	If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner.
+	I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave:
+	I greatly fear my money is not safe.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus.
+
+
+	[Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA]
+
+ADRIANA	Neither my husband nor the slave return'd,
+	That in such haste I sent to seek his master!
+	Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock.
+
+LUCIANA	Perhaps some merchant hath invited him,
+	And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner.
+	Good sister, let us dine and never fret:
+	A man is master of his liberty:
+	Time is their master, and, when they see time,
+	They'll go or come: if so, be patient, sister.
+
+ADRIANA	Why should their liberty than ours be more?
+
+LUCIANA	Because their business still lies out o' door.
+
+ADRIANA	Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill.
+
+LUCIANA	O, know he is the bridle of your will.
+
+ADRIANA	There's none but asses will be bridled so.
+
+LUCIANA	Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe.
+	There's nothing situate under heaven's eye
+	But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky:
+	The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls,
+	Are their males' subjects and at their controls:
+	Men, more divine, the masters of all these,
+	Lords of the wide world and wild watery seas,
+	Indued with intellectual sense and souls,
+	Of more preeminence than fish and fowls,
+	Are masters to their females, and their lords:
+	Then let your will attend on their accords.
+
+ADRIANA	This servitude makes you to keep unwed.
+
+LUCIANA	Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed.
+
+ADRIANA	But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway.
+
+LUCIANA	Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey.
+
+ADRIANA	How if your husband start some other where?
+
+LUCIANA	Till he come home again, I would forbear.
+
+ADRIANA	Patience unmoved! no marvel though she pause;
+	They can be meek that have no other cause.
+	A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
+	We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
+	But were we burdened with like weight of pain,
+	As much or more would we ourselves complain:
+	So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee,
+	With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me,
+	But, if thou live to see like right bereft,
+	This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left.
+
+LUCIANA	Well, I will marry one day, but to try.
+	Here comes your man; now is your husband nigh.
+
+	[Enter DROMIO of Ephesus]
+
+ADRIANA	Say, is your tardy master now at hand?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears
+	can witness.
+
+ADRIANA	Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear:
+	Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it.
+
+LUCIANA	Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his
+	blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce
+	understand them.
+
+ADRIANA	But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he
+	hath great care to please his wife.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad.
+
+ADRIANA	Horn-mad, thou villain!
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	I mean not cuckold-mad;
+	But, sure, he is stark mad.
+	When I desired him to come home to dinner,
+	He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold:
+	''Tis dinner-time,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he;
+	'Your meat doth burn,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he:
+	'Will you come home?' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he.
+	'Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?'
+	'The pig,' quoth I, 'is burn'd;' 'My gold!' quoth he:
+	'My mistress, sir' quoth I; 'Hang up thy mistress!
+	I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress!'
+
+LUCIANA	Quoth who?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Quoth my master:
+	'I know,' quoth he, 'no house, no wife, no mistress.'
+	So that my errand, due unto my tongue,
+	I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders;
+	For, in conclusion, he did beat me there.
+
+ADRIANA	Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Go back again, and be new beaten home?
+	For God's sake, send some other messenger.
+
+ADRIANA	Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	And he will bless that cross with other beating:
+	Between you I shall have a holy head.
+
+ADRIANA	Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Am I so round with you as you with me,
+	That like a football you do spurn me thus?
+	You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither:
+	If I last in this service, you must case me in leather.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LUCIANA	Fie, how impatience loureth in your face!
+
+ADRIANA	His company must do his minions grace,
+	Whilst I at home starve for a merry look.
+	Hath homely age the alluring beauty took
+	From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it:
+	Are my discourses dull? barren my wit?
+	If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd,
+	Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard:
+	Do their gay vestments his affections bait?
+	That's not my fault: he's master of my state:
+	What ruins are in me that can be found,
+	By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground
+	Of my defeatures. My decayed fair
+	A sunny look of his would soon repair
+	But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale
+	And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale.
+
+LUCIANA	Self-harming jealousy! fie, beat it hence!
+
+ADRIANA	Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense.
+	I know his eye doth homage otherwhere,
+	Or else what lets it but he would be here?
+	Sister, you know he promised me a chain;
+	Would that alone, alone he would detain,
+	So he would keep fair quarter with his bed!
+	I see the jewel best enamelled
+	Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still,
+	That others touch, and often touching will
+	Wear gold: and no man that hath a name,
+	By falsehood and corruption doth it shame.
+	Since that my beauty cannot please his eye,
+	I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die.
+
+LUCIANA	How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up
+	Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave
+	Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out
+	By computation and mine host's report.
+	I could not speak with Dromio since at first
+	I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes.
+
+	[Enter DROMIO of Syracuse]
+
+	How now sir! is your merry humour alter'd?
+	As you love strokes, so jest with me again.
+	You know no Centaur? you received no gold?
+	Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner?
+	My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad,
+	That thus so madly thou didst answer me?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	What answer, sir? when spake I such a word?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Even now, even here, not half an hour since.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I did not see you since you sent me hence,
+	Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt,
+	And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner;
+	For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeased.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I am glad to see you in this merry vein:
+	What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth?
+	Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that.
+
+	[Beating him]
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is earnest:
+	Upon what bargain do you give it me?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Because that I familiarly sometimes
+	Do use you for my fool and chat with you,
+	Your sauciness will jest upon my love
+	And make a common of my serious hours.
+	When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport,
+	But creep in crannies when he hides his beams.
+	If you will jest with me, know my aspect,
+	And fashion your demeanor to my looks,
+	Or I will beat this method in your sconce.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Sconce call you it? so you would leave battering, I
+	had rather have it a head: an you use these blows
+	long, I must get a sconce for my head and ensconce
+	it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders.
+	But, I pray, sir why am I beaten?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Dost thou not know?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Shall I tell you why?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hath
+	a wherefore.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Why, first,--for flouting me; and then, wherefore--
+	For urging it the second time to me.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season,
+	When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme
+	nor reason?
+	Well, sir, I thank you.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Thank me, sir, for what?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for
+	something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	In good time, sir; what's that?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Basting.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Well, sir, then 'twill be dry.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	If it be, sir, I pray you, eat none of it.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Your reason?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Lest it make you choleric and purchase me another
+	dry basting.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Well, sir, learn to jest in good time: there's a
+	time for all things.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	By what rule, sir?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald
+	pate of father Time himself.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Let's hear it.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	There's no time for a man to recover his hair that
+	grows bald by nature.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	May he not do it by fine and recovery?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig and recover the
+	lost hair of another man.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is,
+	so plentiful an excrement?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts;
+	and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath given them in wit.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: yet he loseth
+	it in a kind of jollity.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	For what reason?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	For two; and sound ones too.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Nay, not sound, I pray you.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Sure ones, then.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Certain ones then.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Name them.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	The one, to save the money that he spends in
+	trimming; the other, that at dinner they should not
+	drop in his porridge.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	You would all this time have proved there is no
+	time for all things.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair
+	lost by nature.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	But your reason was not substantial, why there is no
+	time to recover.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald and therefore
+	to the world's end will have bald followers.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion:
+	But, soft! who wafts us yonder?
+
+	[Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA]
+
+ADRIANA	Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown:
+	Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects;
+	I am not Adriana nor thy wife.
+	The time was once when thou unurged wouldst vow
+	That never words were music to thine ear,
+	That never object pleasing in thine eye,
+	That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
+	That never meat sweet-savor'd in thy taste,
+	Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carved to thee.
+	How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it,
+	That thou art thus estranged from thyself?
+	Thyself I call it, being strange to me,
+	That, undividable, incorporate,
+	Am better than thy dear self's better part.
+	Ah, do not tear away thyself from me!
+	For know, my love, as easy mayest thou fall
+	A drop of water in the breaking gulf,
+	And take unmingled that same drop again,
+	Without addition or diminishing,
+	As take from me thyself and not me too.
+	How dearly would it touch me to the quick,
+	Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious
+	And that this body, consecrate to thee,
+	By ruffian lust should be contaminate!
+	Wouldst thou not spit at me and spurn at me
+	And hurl the name of husband in my face
+	And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot-brow
+	And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring
+	And break it with a deep-divorcing vow?
+	I know thou canst; and therefore see thou do it.
+	I am possess'd with an adulterate blot;
+	My blood is mingled with the crime of lust:
+	For if we too be one and thou play false,
+	I do digest the poison of thy flesh,
+	Being strumpeted by thy contagion.
+	Keep then far league and truce with thy true bed;
+	I live unstain'd, thou undishonoured.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not:
+	In Ephesus I am but two hours old,
+	As strange unto your town as to your talk;
+	Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd,
+	Want wit in all one word to understand.
+
+LUCIANA	Fie, brother! how the world is changed with you!
+	When were you wont to use my sister thus?
+	She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	By Dromio?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	By me?
+
+ADRIANA	By thee; and this thou didst return from him,
+	That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows,
+	Denied my house for his, me for his wife.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman?
+	What is the course and drift of your compact?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I, sir? I never saw her till this time.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Villain, thou liest; for even her very words
+	Didst thou deliver to me on the mart.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I never spake with her in all my life.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	How can she thus then call us by our names,
+	Unless it be by inspiration.
+
+ADRIANA	How ill agrees it with your gravity
+	To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave,
+	Abetting him to thwart me in my mood!
+	Be it my wrong you are from me exempt,
+	But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt.
+	Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine:
+	Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
+	Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state,
+	Makes me with thy strength to communicate:
+	If aught possess thee from me, it is dross,
+	Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss;
+	Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion
+	Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme:
+	What, was I married to her in my dream?
+	Or sleep I now and think I hear all this?
+	What error drives our eyes and ears amiss?
+	Until I know this sure uncertainty,
+	I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy.
+
+LUCIANA	Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner.
+	This is the fairy land: O spite of spites!
+	We talk with goblins, owls and sprites:
+	If we obey them not, this will ensue,
+	They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue.
+
+LUCIANA	Why pratest thou to thyself and answer'st not?
+	Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot!
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I am transformed, master, am I not?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	I think thou art in mind, and so am I.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Thou hast thine own form.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	No, I am an ape.
+
+LUCIANA	If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	'Tis true; she rides me and I long for grass.
+	'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be
+	But I should know her as well as she knows me.
+
+ADRIANA	Come, come, no longer will I be a fool,
+	To put the finger in the eye and weep,
+	Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn.
+	Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate.
+	Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day
+	And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks.
+	Sirrah, if any ask you for your master,
+	Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter.
+	Come, sister. Dromio, play the porter well.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?
+	Sleeping or waking? mad or well-advised?
+	Known unto these, and to myself disguised!
+	I'll say as they say and persever so,
+	And in this mist at all adventures go.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Master, shall I be porter at the gate?
+
+ADRIANA	Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate.
+
+LUCIANA	Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before the house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus.
+
+
+	[Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus,
+	ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all;
+	My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours:
+	Say that I linger'd with you at your shop
+	To see the making of her carcanet,
+	And that to-morrow you will bring it home.
+	But here's a villain that would face me down
+	He met me on the mart, and that I beat him,
+	And charged him with a thousand marks in gold,
+	And that I did deny my wife and house.
+	Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Say what you will, sir, but I know what I know;
+	That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to show:
+	If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink,
+	Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	I think thou art an ass.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Marry, so it doth appear
+	By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear.
+	I should kick, being kick'd; and, being at that pass,
+	You would keep from my heels and beware of an ass.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	You're sad, Signior Balthazar: pray God our cheer
+	May answer my good will and your good welcome here.
+
+BALTHAZAR	I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your
+	welcome dear.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	O, Signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish,
+	A table full of welcome make scarce one dainty dish.
+
+BALTHAZAR	Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words.
+
+BALTHAZAR	Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing guest:
+	But though my cates be mean, take them in good part;
+	Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart.
+	But, soft! my door is lock'd. Go bid them let us in.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicel, Gillian, Ginn!
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	[Within]  Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb,
+	idiot, patch!
+	Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch.
+	Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st
+	for such store,
+	When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	What patch is made our porter? My master stays in
+	the street.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	[Within]  Let him walk from whence he came, lest he
+	catch cold on's feet.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Who talks within there? ho, open the door!
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	[Within]  Right, sir; I'll tell you when, an you tell
+	me wherefore.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Wherefore? for my dinner: I have not dined to-day.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	[Within]  Nor to-day here you must not; come again
+	when you may.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	What art thou that keepest me out from the house I owe?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	[Within]  The porter for this time, sir, and my name
+	is Dromio.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	O villain! thou hast stolen both mine office and my name.
+	The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame.
+	If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place,
+	Thou wouldst have changed thy face for a name or thy
+	name for an ass.
+
+LUCE	[Within]  What a coil is there, Dromio? who are those
+	at the gate?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Let my master in, Luce.
+
+LUCE	[Within]  Faith, no; he comes too late;
+	And so tell your master.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	O Lord, I must laugh!
+	Have at you with a proverb--Shall I set in my staff?
+
+LUCE	[Within]  Have at you with another; that's--When?
+	can you tell?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	[Within]  If thy name be call'd Luce--Luce, thou hast
+	answered him well.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS	Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, I hope?
+OF EPHESUS
+
+LUCE	[Within]  I thought to have asked you.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	[Within]  And you said no.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	So, come, help: well struck! there was blow for blow.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Thou baggage, let me in.
+
+LUCE	[Within]  Can you tell for whose sake?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Master, knock the door hard.
+
+LUCE	[Within]  Let him knock till it ache.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down.
+
+LUCE	[Within]  What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town?
+
+ADRIANA	[Within]  Who is that at the door that keeps all
+	this noise?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	[Within]  By my troth, your town is troubled with
+	unruly boys.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Are you there, wife? you might have come before.
+
+ADRIANA	[Within]  Your wife, sir knave! go get you from the door.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	If you went in pain, master, this 'knave' would go sore.
+
+ANGELO	Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome: we would
+	fain have either.
+
+BALTHAZAR	In debating which was best, we shall part with neither.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	You would say so, master, if your garments were thin.
+	Your cake there is warm within; you stand here in the cold:
+	It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Go fetch me something: I'll break ope the gate.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	[Within]  Break any breaking here, and I'll break your
+	knave's pate.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind,
+	Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	[Within]  It seems thou want'st breaking: out upon
+	thee, hind!
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Here's too much 'out upon thee!' I pray thee,
+	let me in.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	[Within]  Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no fin.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Well, I'll break in: go borrow me a crow.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	A crow without feather? Master, mean you so?
+	For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather;
+	If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Go get thee gone; fetch me an iron crow.
+
+BALTHAZAR	Have patience, sir; O, let it not be so!
+	Herein you war against your reputation
+	And draw within the compass of suspect
+	The unviolated honour of your wife.
+	Once this,--your long experience of her wisdom,
+	Her sober virtue, years and modesty,
+	Plead on her part some cause to you unknown:
+	And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse
+	Why at this time the doors are made against you.
+	Be ruled by me: depart in patience,
+	And let us to the Tiger all to dinner,
+	And about evening come yourself alone
+	To know the reason of this strange restraint.
+	If by strong hand you offer to break in
+	Now in the stirring passage of the day,
+	A vulgar comment will be made of it,
+	And that supposed by the common rout
+	Against your yet ungalled estimation
+	That may with foul intrusion enter in
+	And dwell upon your grave when you are dead;
+	For slander lives upon succession,
+	For ever housed where it gets possession.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	You have prevailed: I will depart in quiet,
+	And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry.
+	I know a wench of excellent discourse,
+	Pretty and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle:
+	There will we dine. This woman that I mean,
+	My wife--but, I protest, without desert--
+	Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal:
+	To her will we to dinner.
+
+	[To Angelo]
+
+		    Get you home
+	And fetch the chain; by this I know 'tis made:
+	Bring it, I pray you, to the Porpentine;
+	For there's the house: that chain will I bestow--
+	Be it for nothing but to spite my wife--
+	Upon mine hostess there: good sir, make haste.
+	Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me,
+	I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me.
+
+ANGELO	I'll meet you at that place some hour hence.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Do so. This jest shall cost me some expense.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter LUCIANA and ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse]
+
+LUCIANA	And may it be that you have quite forgot
+	A husband's office? shall, Antipholus.
+	Even in the spring of love, thy love-springs rot?
+	Shall love, in building, grow so ruinous?
+	If you did wed my sister for her wealth,
+	Then for her wealth's sake use her with more kindness:
+	Or if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth;
+	Muffle your false love with some show of blindness:
+	Let not my sister read it in your eye;
+	Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator;
+	Look sweet, be fair, become disloyalty;
+	Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger;
+	Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted;
+	Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint;
+	Be secret-false: what need she be acquainted?
+	What simple thief brags of his own attaint?
+	'Tis double wrong, to truant with your bed
+	And let her read it in thy looks at board:
+	Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed;
+	Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word.
+	Alas, poor women! make us but believe,
+	Being compact of credit, that you love us;
+	Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve;
+	We in your motion turn and you may move us.
+	Then, gentle brother, get you in again;
+	Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife:
+	'Tis holy sport to be a little vain,
+	When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Sweet mistress--what your name is else, I know not,
+	Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine,--
+	Less in your knowledge and your grace you show not
+	Than our earth's wonder, more than earth divine.
+	Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak;
+	Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit,
+	Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak,
+	The folded meaning of your words' deceit.
+	Against my soul's pure truth why labour you
+	To make it wander in an unknown field?
+	Are you a god? would you create me new?
+	Transform me then, and to your power I'll yield.
+	But if that I am I, then well I know
+	Your weeping sister is no wife of mine,
+	Nor to her bed no homage do I owe
+	Far more, far more to you do I decline.
+	O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note,
+	To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears:
+	Sing, siren, for thyself and I will dote:
+	Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs,
+	And as a bed I'll take them and there lie,
+	And in that glorious supposition think
+	He gains by death that hath such means to die:
+	Let Love, being light, be drowned if she sink!
+
+LUCIANA	What, are you mad, that you do reason so?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Not mad, but mated; how, I do not know.
+
+LUCIANA	It is a fault that springeth from your eye.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	For gazing on your beams, fair sun, being by.
+
+LUCIANA	Gaze where you should, and that will clear your sight.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	As good to wink, sweet love, as look on night.
+
+
+LUCIANA	Why call you me love? call my sister so.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Thy sister's sister.
+
+
+LUCIANA	That's my sister.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	No;
+	It is thyself, mine own self's better part,
+	Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart,
+	My food, my fortune and my sweet hope's aim,
+	My sole earth's heaven and my heaven's claim.
+
+LUCIANA	All this my sister is, or else should be.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Call thyself sister, sweet, for I am thee.
+	Thee will I love and with thee lead my life:
+	Thou hast no husband yet nor I no wife.
+	Give me thy hand.
+
+LUCIANA	                  O, soft, air! hold you still:
+	I'll fetch my sister, to get her good will.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter DROMIO of Syracuse]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Why, how now, Dromio! where runn'st thou so fast?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Do you know me, sir? am I Dromio? am I your man?
+	am I myself?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art thyself.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I am an ass, I am a woman's man and besides myself.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS	What woman's man? and how besides thyself? besides thyself?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Marry, sir, besides myself, I am due to a woman; one
+	that claims me, one that haunts me, one that will have me.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	What claim lays she to thee?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Marry sir, such claim as you would lay to your
+	horse; and she would have me as a beast: not that, I
+	being a beast, she would have me; but that she,
+	being a very beastly creature, lays claim to me.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	What is she?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	A very reverent body; ay, such a one as a man may
+	not speak of without he say 'Sir-reverence.' I have
+	but lean luck in the match, and yet is she a
+	wondrous fat marriage.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	How dost thou mean a fat marriage?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Marry, sir, she's the kitchen wench and all grease;
+	and I know not what use to put her to but to make a
+	lamp of her and run from her by her own light. I
+	warrant, her rags and the tallow in them will burn a
+	Poland winter: if she lives till doomsday,
+	she'll burn a week longer than the whole world.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	What complexion is she of?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing half so
+	clean kept: for why, she sweats; a man may go over
+	shoes in the grime of it.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	That's a fault that water will mend.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	No, sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood could not do it.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	What's her name?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Nell, sir; but her name and three quarters, that's
+	an ell and three quarters, will not measure her from
+	hip to hip.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Then she bears some breadth?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	No longer from head to foot than from hip to hip:
+	she is spherical, like a globe; I could find out
+	countries in her.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	In what part of her body stands Ireland?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Marry, in her buttocks: I found it out by the bogs.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Where Scotland?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I found it by the barrenness; hard in the palm of the hand.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Where France?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	In her forehead; armed and reverted, making war
+	against her heir.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Where England?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I looked for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no
+	whiteness in them; but I guess it stood in her chin,
+	by the salt rheum that ran between France and it.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Where Spain?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it hot in her breath.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Where America, the Indies?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Oh, sir, upon her nose all o'er embellished with
+	rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich
+	aspect to the hot breath of Spain; who sent whole
+	armadoes of caracks to be ballast at her nose.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Oh, sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this
+	drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me, call'd me
+	Dromio; swore I was assured to her; told me what
+	privy marks I had about me, as, the mark of my
+	shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my
+	left arm, that I amazed ran from her as a witch:
+	And, I think, if my breast had not been made of
+	faith and my heart of steel,
+	She had transform'd me to a curtal dog and made
+	me turn i' the wheel.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Go hie thee presently, post to the road:
+	An if the wind blow any way from shore,
+	I will not harbour in this town to-night:
+	If any bark put forth, come to the mart,
+	Where I will walk till thou return to me.
+	If every one knows us and we know none,
+	'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack and be gone.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	As from a bear a man would run for life,
+	So fly I from her that would be my wife.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	There's none but witches do inhabit here;
+	And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence.
+	She that doth call me husband, even my soul
+	Doth for a wife abhor. But her fair sister,
+	Possess'd with such a gentle sovereign grace,
+	Of such enchanting presence and discourse,
+	Hath almost made me traitor to myself:
+	But, lest myself be guilty to self-wrong,
+	I'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song.
+
+	[Enter ANGELO with the chain]
+
+ANGELO	Master Antipholus,--
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Ay, that's my name.
+
+ANGELO	I know it well, sir, lo, here is the chain.
+	I thought to have ta'en you at the Porpentine:
+	The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	What is your will that I shall do with this?
+
+ANGELO	What please yourself, sir: I have made it for you.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Made it for me, sir! I bespoke it not.
+
+ANGELO	Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you have.
+	Go home with it and please your wife withal;
+	And soon at supper-time I'll visit you
+	And then receive my money for the chain.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	I pray you, sir, receive the money now,
+	For fear you ne'er see chain nor money more.
+
+ANGELO	You are a merry man, sir: fare you well.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	What I should think of this, I cannot tell:
+	But this I think, there's no man is so vain
+	That would refuse so fair an offer'd chain.
+	I see a man here needs not live by shifts,
+	When in the streets he meets such golden gifts.
+	I'll to the mart, and there for Dromio stay
+	If any ship put out, then straight away.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter Second Merchant, ANGELO, and an Officer]
+
+Second Merchant	You know since Pentecost the sum is due,
+	And since I have not much importuned you;
+	Nor now I had not, but that I am bound
+	To Persia, and want guilders for my voyage:
+	Therefore make present satisfaction,
+	Or I'll attach you by this officer.
+
+ANGELO	Even just the sum that I do owe to you
+	Is growing to me by Antipholus,
+	And in the instant that I met with you
+	He had of me a chain: at five o'clock
+	I shall receive the money for the same.
+	Pleaseth you walk with me down to his house,
+	I will discharge my bond and thank you too.
+
+	[Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus and DROMIO of Ephesus
+	from the courtezan's]
+
+Officer	That labour may you save: see where he comes.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	While I go to the goldsmith's house, go thou
+	And buy a rope's end: that will I bestow
+	Among my wife and her confederates,
+	For locking me out of my doors by day.
+	But, soft! I see the goldsmith. Get thee gone;
+	Buy thou a rope and bring it home to me.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	I buy a thousand pound a year: I buy a rope.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	A man is well holp up that trusts to you:
+	I promised your presence and the chain;
+	But neither chain nor goldsmith came to me.
+	Belike you thought our love would last too long,
+	If it were chain'd together, and therefore came not.
+
+ANGELO	Saving your merry humour, here's the note
+	How much your chain weighs to the utmost carat,
+	The fineness of the gold and chargeful fashion.
+	Which doth amount to three odd ducats more
+	Than I stand debted to this gentleman:
+	I pray you, see him presently discharged,
+	For he is bound to sea and stays but for it.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	I am not furnish'd with the present money;
+	Besides, I have some business in the town.
+	Good signior, take the stranger to my house
+	And with you take the chain and bid my wife
+	Disburse the sum on the receipt thereof:
+	Perchance I will be there as soon as you.
+
+ANGELO	Then you will bring the chain to her yourself?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	No; bear it with you, lest I come not time enough.
+
+ANGELO	Well, sir, I will. Have you the chain about you?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	An if I have not, sir, I hope you have;
+	Or else you may return without your money.
+
+ANGELO	Nay, come, I pray you, sir, give me the chain:
+	Both wind and tide stays for this gentleman,
+	And I, to blame, have held him here too long.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Good Lord! you use this dalliance to excuse
+	Your breach of promise to the Porpentine.
+	I should have chid you for not bringing it,
+	But, like a shrew, you first begin to brawl.
+
+Second Merchant	The hour steals on; I pray you, sir, dispatch.
+
+ANGELO	You hear how he importunes me;--the chain!
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Why, give it to my wife and fetch your money.
+
+ANGELO	Come, come, you know I gave it you even now.
+	Either send the chain or send me by some token.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Fie, now you run this humour out of breath,
+	where's the chain? I pray you, let me see it.
+
+Second Merchant	My business cannot brook this dalliance.
+	Good sir, say whether you'll answer me or no:
+	If not, I'll leave him to the officer.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	I answer you! what should I answer you?
+
+ANGELO	The money that you owe me for the chain.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	I owe you none till I receive the chain.
+
+ANGELO	You know I gave it you half an hour since.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	You gave me none: you wrong me much to say so.
+
+ANGELO	You wrong me more, sir, in denying it:
+	Consider how it stands upon my credit.
+
+Second Merchant	Well, officer, arrest him at my suit.
+
+Officer	I do; and charge you in the duke's name to obey me.
+
+ANGELO	This touches me in reputation.
+	Either consent to pay this sum for me
+	Or I attach you by this officer.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Consent to pay thee that I never had!
+	Arrest me, foolish fellow, if thou darest.
+
+ANGELO	Here is thy fee; arrest him, officer,
+	I would not spare my brother in this case,
+	If he should scorn me so apparently.
+
+Officer	I do arrest you, sir: you hear the suit.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	I do obey thee till I give thee bail.
+	But, sirrah, you shall buy this sport as dear
+	As all the metal in your shop will answer.
+
+ANGELO	Sir, sir, I will have law in Ephesus,
+	To your notorious shame; I doubt it not.
+
+	[Enter DROMIO of Syracuse, from the bay]
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Master, there is a bark of Epidamnum
+	That stays but till her owner comes aboard,
+	And then, sir, she bears away. Our fraughtage, sir,
+	I have convey'd aboard; and I have bought
+	The oil, the balsamum and aqua-vitae.
+	The ship is in her trim; the merry wind
+	Blows fair from land: they stay for nought at all
+	But for their owner, master, and yourself.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	How now! a madman! Why, thou peevish sheep,
+	What ship of Epidamnum stays for me?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Thou drunken slave, I sent thee for a rope;
+	And told thee to what purpose and what end.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	You sent me for a rope's end as soon:
+	You sent me to the bay, sir, for a bark.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	I will debate this matter at more leisure
+	And teach your ears to list me with more heed.
+	To Adriana, villain, hie thee straight:
+	Give her this key, and tell her, in the desk
+	That's cover'd o'er with Turkish tapestry,
+	There is a purse of ducats; let her send it:
+	Tell her I am arrested in the street
+	And that shall bail me; hie thee, slave, be gone!
+	On, officer, to prison till it come.
+
+	[Exeunt Second Merchant, Angelo, Officer, and
+	Antipholus of Ephesus]
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	To Adriana! that is where we dined,
+	Where Dowsabel did claim me for her husband:
+	She is too big, I hope, for me to compass.
+	Thither I must, although against my will,
+	For servants must their masters' minds fulfil.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus.
+
+
+	[Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA]
+
+ADRIANA	Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so?
+	Mightst thou perceive austerely in his eye
+	That he did plead in earnest? yea or no?
+	Look'd he or red or pale, or sad or merrily?
+	What observation madest thou in this case
+	Of his heart's meteors tilting in his face?
+
+LUCIANA	First he denied you had in him no right.
+
+ADRIANA	He meant he did me none; the more my spite.
+
+LUCIANA	Then swore he that he was a stranger here.
+
+ADRIANA	And true he swore, though yet forsworn he were.
+
+LUCIANA	Then pleaded I for you.
+
+ADRIANA	And what said he?
+
+LUCIANA	That love I begg'd for you he begg'd of me.
+
+ADRIANA	With what persuasion did he tempt thy love?
+
+LUCIANA	With words that in an honest suit might move.
+	First he did praise my beauty, then my speech.
+
+ADRIANA	Didst speak him fair?
+
+LUCIANA	Have patience, I beseech.
+
+ADRIANA	I cannot, nor I will not, hold me still;
+	My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
+	He is deformed, crooked, old and sere,
+	Ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere;
+	Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind;
+	Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.
+
+LUCIANA	Who would be jealous then of such a one?
+	No evil lost is wail'd when it is gone.
+
+ADRIANA	Ah, but I think him better than I say,
+	And yet would herein others' eyes were worse.
+	Far from her nest the lapwing cries away:
+	My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse.
+
+	[Enter DROMIO of Syracuse]
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Here! go; the desk, the purse! sweet, now, make haste.
+
+LUCIANA	How hast thou lost thy breath?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	By running fast.
+
+ADRIANA	Where is thy master, Dromio? is he well?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse than hell.
+	A devil in an everlasting garment hath him;
+	One whose hard heart is button'd up with steel;
+	A fiend, a fury, pitiless and rough;
+	A wolf, nay, worse, a fellow all in buff;
+	A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that
+	countermands
+	The passages of alleys, creeks and narrow lands;
+	A hound that runs counter and yet draws dryfoot well;
+	One that before the judgement carries poor souls to hell.
+
+ADRIANA	Why, man, what is the matter?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I do not know the matter: he is 'rested on the case.
+
+ADRIANA	What, is he arrested? Tell me at whose suit.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I know not at whose suit he is arrested well;
+	But he's in a suit of buff which 'rested him, that can I tell.
+	Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in his desk?
+
+ADRIANA	Go fetch it, sister.
+
+	[Exit Luciana]
+
+		This I wonder at,
+	That he, unknown to me, should be in debt.
+	Tell me, was he arrested on a band?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Not on a band, but on a stronger thing;
+	A chain, a chain! Do you not hear it ring?
+
+ADRIANA	What, the chain?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	No, no, the bell: 'tis time that I were gone:
+	It was two ere I left him, and now the clock
+	strikes one.
+
+ADRIANA	The hours come back! that did I never hear.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	O, yes; if any hour meet a sergeant, a' turns back for
+	very fear.
+
+ADRIANA	As if Time were in debt! how fondly dost thou reason!
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more than he's
+	worth, to season.
+	Nay, he's a thief too: have you not heard men say
+	That Time comes stealing on by night and day?
+	If Time be in debt and theft, and a sergeant in the way,
+	Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day?
+
+	[Re-enter LUCIANA with a purse]
+
+ADRIANA	Go, Dromio; there's the money, bear it straight;
+	And bring thy master home immediately.
+	Come, sister: I am press'd down with conceit--
+	Conceit, my comfort and my injury.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	There's not a man I meet but doth salute me
+	As if I were their well-acquainted friend;
+	And every one doth call me by my name.
+	Some tender money to me; some invite me;
+	Some other give me thanks for kindnesses;
+	Some offer me commodities to buy:
+	Even now a tailor call'd me in his shop
+	And show'd me silks that he had bought for me,
+	And therewithal took measure of my body.
+	Sure, these are but imaginary wiles
+	And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here.
+
+	[Enter DROMIO OF SYRACUSE]
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Master, here's the gold you sent me for. What, have
+	you got the picture of old Adam new-apparelled?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	What gold is this? what Adam dost thou mean?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Not that Adam that kept the Paradise but that Adam
+	that keeps the prison: he that goes in the calf's
+	skin that was killed for the Prodigal; he that came
+	behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you
+	forsake your liberty.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	I understand thee not.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	No? why, 'tis a plain case: he that went, like a
+	bass-viol, in a case of leather; the man, sir,
+	that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a sob
+	and 'rests them; he, sir, that takes pity on decayed
+	men and gives them suits of durance; he that sets up
+	his rest to do more exploits with his mace than a
+	morris-pike.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	What, thou meanest an officer?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band, he that brings
+	any man to answer it that breaks his band; one that
+	thinks a man always going to bed, and says, 'God
+	give you good rest!'
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since that the
+	bark Expedition put forth to-night; and then were
+	you hindered by the sergeant, to tarry for the hoy
+	Delay. Here are the angels that you sent for to
+	deliver you.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	The fellow is distract, and so am I;
+	And here we wander in illusions:
+	Some blessed power deliver us from hence!
+
+	[Enter a Courtezan]
+
+Courtezan	Well met, well met, Master Antipholus.
+	I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now:
+	Is that the chain you promised me to-day?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Master, is this Mistress Satan?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	It is the devil.
+
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Nay, she is worse, she is the devil's dam; and here
+	she comes in the habit of a light wench: and thereof
+	comes that the wenches say 'God damn me;' that's as
+	much to say 'God make me a light wench.' It is
+	written, they appear to men like angels of light:
+	light is an effect of fire, and fire will burn;
+	ergo, light wenches will burn. Come not near her.
+
+Courtezan	Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir.
+	Will you go with me? We'll mend our dinner here?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Master, if you do, expect spoon-meat; or bespeak a
+	long spoon.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Why, Dromio?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with
+	the devil.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Avoid then, fiend! what tell'st thou me of supping?
+	Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress:
+	I conjure thee to leave me and be gone.
+
+Courtezan	Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner,
+	Or, for my diamond, the chain you promised,
+	And I'll be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Some devils ask but the parings of one's nail,
+	A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,
+	A nut, a cherry-stone;
+	But she, more covetous, would have a chain.
+	Master, be wise: an if you give it her,
+	The devil will shake her chain and fright us with it.
+
+Courtezan	I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain:
+	I hope you do not mean to cheat me so.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	'Fly pride,' says the peacock: mistress, that you know.
+
+	[Exeunt Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse]
+
+Courtezan	Now, out of doubt Antipholus is mad,
+	Else would he never so demean himself.
+	A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats,
+	And for the same he promised me a chain:
+	Both one and other he denies me now.
+	The reason that I gather he is mad,
+	Besides this present instance of his rage,
+	Is a mad tale he told to-day at dinner,
+	Of his own doors being shut against his entrance.
+	Belike his wife, acquainted with his fits,
+	On purpose shut the doors against his way.
+	My way is now to hie home to his house,
+	And tell his wife that, being lunatic,
+	He rush'd into my house and took perforce
+	My ring away. This course I fittest choose;
+	For forty ducats is too much to lose.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A street.
+
+
+	[Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus and the Officer]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Fear me not, man; I will not break away:
+	I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, so much money,
+	To warrant thee, as I am 'rested for.
+	My wife is in a wayward mood to-day,
+	And will not lightly trust the messenger
+	That I should be attach'd in Ephesus,
+	I tell you, 'twill sound harshly in her ears.
+
+	[Enter DROMIO of Ephesus with a rope's-end]
+
+	Here comes my man; I think he brings the money.
+	How now, sir! have you that I sent you for?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Here's that, I warrant you, will pay them all.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	But where's the money?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Why, sir, I gave the money for the rope.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Five hundred ducats, villain, for a rope?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	I'll serve you, sir, five hundred at the rate.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	To what end did I bid thee hie thee home?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	To a rope's-end, sir; and to that end am I returned.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	And to that end, sir, I will welcome you.
+
+	[Beating him]
+
+Officer	Good sir, be patient.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Nay, 'tis for me to be patient; I am in adversity.
+
+Officer	Good, now, hold thy tongue.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Nay, rather persuade him to hold his hands.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Thou whoreson, senseless villain!
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	I would I were senseless, sir, that I might not feel
+	your blows.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS	Thou art sensible in nothing but blows, and so is an
+	ass.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	I am an ass, indeed; you may prove it by my long
+	ears. I have served him from the hour of my
+	nativity to this instant, and have nothing at his
+	hands for my service but blows. When I am cold, he
+	heats me with beating; when I am warm, he cools me
+	with beating; I am waked with it when I sleep;
+	raised with it when I sit; driven out of doors with
+	it when I go from home; welcomed home with it when
+	I return; nay, I bear it on my shoulders, as a
+	beggar wont her brat; and, I think when he hath
+	lamed me, I shall beg with it from door to door.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Come, go along; my wife is coming yonder.
+
+	[Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, the Courtezan, and PINCH]
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Mistress, 'respice finem,' respect your end; or
+	rather, the prophecy like the parrot, 'beware the
+	rope's-end.'
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Wilt thou still talk?
+
+	[Beating him]
+
+Courtezan	How say you now? is not your husband mad?
+
+ADRIANA	His incivility confirms no less.
+	Good Doctor Pinch, you are a conjurer;
+	Establish him in his true sense again,
+	And I will please you what you will demand.
+
+LUCIANA	Alas, how fiery and how sharp he looks!
+
+Courtezan	Mark how he trembles in his ecstasy!
+
+PINCH	Give me your hand and let me feel your pulse.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	There is my hand, and let it feel your ear.
+
+	[Striking him]
+
+PINCH	I charge thee, Satan, housed within this man,
+	To yield possession to my holy prayers
+	And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight:
+	I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven!
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Peace, doting wizard, peace! I am not mad.
+
+ADRIANA	O, that thou wert not, poor distressed soul!
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	You minion, you, are these your customers?
+	Did this companion with the saffron face
+	Revel and feast it at my house to-day,
+	Whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut
+	And I denied to enter in my house?
+
+ADRIANA	O husband, God doth know you dined at home;
+	Where would you had remain'd until this time,
+	Free from these slanders and this open shame!
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Dined at home! Thou villain, what sayest thou?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Sir, sooth to say, you did not dine at home.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Were not my doors lock'd up and I shut out?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Perdie, your doors were lock'd and you shut out.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	And did not she herself revile me there?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Sans fable, she herself reviled you there.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Did not her kitchen-maid rail, taunt, and scorn me?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Certes, she did; the kitchen-vestal scorn'd you.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	And did not I in rage depart from thence?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	In verity you did; my bones bear witness,
+	That since have felt the vigour of his rage.
+
+ADRIANA	Is't good to soothe him in these contraries?
+
+PINCH	It is no shame: the fellow finds his vein,
+	And yielding to him humours well his frenzy.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Thou hast suborn'd the goldsmith to arrest me.
+
+ADRIANA	Alas, I sent you money to redeem you,
+	By Dromio here, who came in haste for it.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Money by me! heart and goodwill you might;
+	But surely master, not a rag of money.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Went'st not thou to her for a purse of ducats?
+
+ADRIANA	He came to me and I deliver'd it.
+
+LUCIANA	And I am witness with her that she did.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	God and the rope-maker bear me witness
+	That I was sent for nothing but a rope!
+
+PINCH	Mistress, both man and master is possess'd;
+	I know it by their pale and deadly looks:
+	They must be bound and laid in some dark room.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Say, wherefore didst thou lock me forth to-day?
+	And why dost thou deny the bag of gold?
+
+ADRIANA	I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	And, gentle master, I received no gold;
+	But I confess, sir, that we were lock'd out.
+
+ADRIANA	Dissembling villain, thou speak'st false in both.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all;
+	And art confederate with a damned pack
+	To make a loathsome abject scorn of me:
+	But with these nails I'll pluck out these false eyes
+	That would behold in me this shameful sport.
+
+	[Enter three or four, and offer to bind him.
+	He strives]
+
+ADRIANA	O, bind him, bind him! let him not come near me.
+
+PINCH	More company! The fiend is strong within him.
+
+LUCIANA	Ay me, poor man, how pale and wan he looks!
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	What, will you murder me? Thou gaoler, thou,
+	I am thy prisoner: wilt thou suffer them
+	To make a rescue?
+
+Officer	                  Masters, let him go
+	He is my prisoner, and you shall not have him.
+
+PINCH	Go bind this man, for he is frantic too.
+
+	[They offer to bind Dromio of Ephesus]
+
+ADRIANA	What wilt thou do, thou peevish officer?
+	Hast thou delight to see a wretched man
+	Do outrage and displeasure to himself?
+
+Officer	He is my prisoner: if I let him go,
+	The debt he owes will be required of me.
+
+ADRIANA	I will discharge thee ere I go from thee:
+	Bear me forthwith unto his creditor,
+	And, knowing how the debt grows, I will pay it.
+	Good master doctor, see him safe convey'd
+	Home to my house. O most unhappy day!
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	O most unhappy strumpet!
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Master, I am here entered in bond for you.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Out on thee, villain! wherefore dost thou mad me?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Will you be bound for nothing? be mad, good master:
+	cry 'The devil!'
+
+LUCIANA	God help, poor souls, how idly do they talk!
+
+ADRIANA	Go bear him hence. Sister, go you with me.
+
+	[Exeunt all but Adriana, Luciana, Officer and
+	Courtezan]
+
+	Say now, whose suit is he arrested at?
+
+Officer	One Angelo, a goldsmith: do you know him?
+
+ADRIANA	I know the man. What is the sum he owes?
+
+Officer	Two hundred ducats.
+
+ADRIANA	Say, how grows it due?
+
+Officer	Due for a chain your husband had of him.
+
+ADRIANA	He did bespeak a chain for me, but had it not.
+
+Courtezan	When as your husband all in rage to-day
+	Came to my house and took away my ring--
+	The ring I saw upon his finger now--
+	Straight after did I meet him with a chain.
+
+ADRIANA	It may be so, but I did never see it.
+	Come, gaoler, bring me where the goldsmith is:
+	I long to know the truth hereof at large.
+
+	[Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse with his rapier drawn,
+	and DROMIO of Syracuse]
+
+LUCIANA	God, for thy mercy! they are loose again.
+
+ADRIANA	And come with naked swords.
+	Let's call more help to have them bound again.
+
+Officer	Away! they'll kill us.
+
+	[Exeunt all but Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio
+	of Syracuse]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	I see these witches are afraid of swords.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	She that would be your wife now ran from you.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Come to the Centaur; fetch our stuff from thence:
+	I long that we were safe and sound aboard.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Faith, stay here this night; they will surely do us
+	no harm: you saw they speak us fair, give us gold:
+	methinks they are such a gentle nation that, but for
+	the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of
+	me, I could find in my heart to stay here still and
+	turn witch.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	I will not stay to-night for all the town;
+	Therefore away, to get our stuff aboard.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A street before a Priory.
+
+
+	[Enter Second Merchant and ANGELO]
+
+ANGELO	I am sorry, sir, that I have hinder'd you;
+	But, I protest, he had the chain of me,
+	Though most dishonestly he doth deny it.
+
+Second Merchant	How is the man esteemed here in the city?
+
+ANGELO	Of very reverend reputation, sir,
+	Of credit infinite, highly beloved,
+	Second to none that lives here in the city:
+	His word might bear my wealth at any time.
+
+Second Merchant	Speak softly; yonder, as I think, he walks.
+
+	[Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse and DROMIO of Syracuse]
+
+ANGELO	'Tis so; and that self chain about his neck
+	Which he forswore most monstrously to have.
+	Good sir, draw near to me, I'll speak to him.
+	Signior Antipholus, I wonder much
+	That you would put me to this shame and trouble;
+	And, not without some scandal to yourself,
+	With circumstance and oaths so to deny
+	This chain which now you wear so openly:
+	Beside the charge, the shame, imprisonment,
+	You have done wrong to this my honest friend,
+	Who, but for staying on our controversy,
+	Had hoisted sail and put to sea to-day:
+	This chain you had of me; can you deny it?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	I think I had; I never did deny it.
+
+Second Merchant	Yes, that you did, sir, and forswore it too.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Who heard me to deny it or forswear it?
+
+Second Merchant	These ears of mine, thou know'st did hear thee.
+	Fie on thee, wretch! 'tis pity that thou livest
+	To walk where any honest man resort.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	Thou art a villain to impeach me thus:
+	I'll prove mine honour and mine honesty
+	Against thee presently, if thou darest stand.
+
+Second Merchant	I dare, and do defy thee for a villain.
+
+	[They draw]
+
+	[Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, the Courtezan, and others]
+
+ADRIANA	Hold, hurt him not, for God's sake! he is mad.
+	Some get within him, take his sword away:
+	Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my house.
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Run, master, run; for God's sake, take a house!
+	This is some priory. In, or we are spoil'd!
+
+	[Exeunt Antipholus of Syracuse and Dromio of Syracuse
+	to the Priory]
+
+	[Enter the Lady Abbess, AEMILIA]
+
+AEMELIA	Be quiet, people. Wherefore throng you hither?
+
+ADRIANA	To fetch my poor distracted husband hence.
+	Let us come in, that we may bind him fast
+	And bear him home for his recovery.
+
+ANGELO	I knew he was not in his perfect wits.
+
+Second Merchant	I am sorry now that I did draw on him.
+
+AEMELIA	How long hath this possession held the man?
+
+ADRIANA	This week he hath been heavy, sour, sad,
+	And much different from the man he was;
+	But till this afternoon his passion
+	Ne'er brake into extremity of rage.
+
+AEMELIA	Hath he not lost much wealth by wreck of sea?
+	Buried some dear friend? Hath not else his eye
+	Stray'd his affection in unlawful love?
+	A sin prevailing much in youthful men,
+	Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing.
+	Which of these sorrows is he subject to?
+
+ADRIANA	To none of these, except it be the last;
+	Namely, some love that drew him oft from home.
+
+AEMELIA	You should for that have reprehended him.
+
+ADRIANA	Why, so I did.
+
+AEMELIA	                  Ay, but not rough enough.
+
+ADRIANA	As roughly as my modesty would let me.
+
+AEMELIA	Haply, in private.
+
+ADRIANA	And in assemblies too.
+
+AEMELIA	Ay, but not enough.
+
+ADRIANA	It was the copy of our conference:
+	In bed he slept not for my urging it;
+	At board he fed not for my urging it;
+	Alone, it was the subject of my theme;
+	In company I often glanced it;
+	Still did I tell him it was vile and bad.
+
+AEMELIA	And thereof came it that the man was mad.
+	The venom clamours of a jealous woman
+	Poisons more deadly than a mad dog's tooth.
+	It seems his sleeps were hinder'd by thy railing,
+	And therefore comes it that his head is light.
+	Thou say'st his meat was sauced with thy upbraidings:
+	Unquiet meals make ill digestions;
+	Thereof the raging fire of fever bred;
+	And what's a fever but a fit of madness?
+	Thou say'st his sports were hinderd by thy brawls:
+	Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue
+	But moody and dull melancholy,
+	Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair,
+	And at her heels a huge infectious troop
+	Of pale distemperatures and foes to life?
+	In food, in sport and life-preserving rest
+	To be disturb'd, would mad or man or beast:
+	The consequence is then thy jealous fits
+	Have scared thy husband from the use of wits.
+
+LUCIANA	She never reprehended him but mildly,
+	When he demean'd himself rough, rude and wildly.
+	Why bear you these rebukes and answer not?
+
+ADRIANA	She did betray me to my own reproof.
+	Good people enter and lay hold on him.
+
+AEMELIA	No, not a creature enters in my house.
+
+ADRIANA	Then let your servants bring my husband forth.
+
+AEMELIA	Neither: he took this place for sanctuary,
+	And it shall privilege him from your hands
+	Till I have brought him to his wits again,
+	Or lose my labour in assaying it.
+
+ADRIANA	I will attend my husband, be his nurse,
+	Diet his sickness, for it is my office,
+	And will have no attorney but myself;
+	And therefore let me have him home with me.
+
+AEMELIA	Be patient; for I will not let him stir
+	Till I have used the approved means I have,
+	With wholesome syrups, drugs and holy prayers,
+	To make of him a formal man again:
+	It is a branch and parcel of mine oath,
+	A charitable duty of my order.
+	Therefore depart and leave him here with me.
+
+ADRIANA	I will not hence and leave my husband here:
+	And ill it doth beseem your holiness
+	To separate the husband and the wife.
+
+AEMELIA	Be quiet and depart: thou shalt not have him.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LUCIANA	Complain unto the duke of this indignity.
+
+ADRIANA	Come, go: I will fall prostrate at his feet
+	And never rise until my tears and prayers
+	Have won his grace to come in person hither
+	And take perforce my husband from the abbess.
+
+Second Merchant	By this, I think, the dial points at five:
+	Anon, I'm sure, the duke himself in person
+	Comes this way to the melancholy vale,
+	The place of death and sorry execution,
+	Behind the ditches of the abbey here.
+
+ANGELO	Upon what cause?
+
+Second Merchant	To see a reverend Syracusian merchant,
+	Who put unluckily into this bay
+	Against the laws and statutes of this town,
+	Beheaded publicly for his offence.
+
+ANGELO	See where they come: we will behold his death.
+
+LUCIANA	Kneel to the duke before he pass the abbey.
+
+	[Enter DUKE SOLINUS, attended; AEGEON bareheaded; with the
+	Headsman and other Officers]
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Yet once again proclaim it publicly,
+	If any friend will pay the sum for him,
+	He shall not die; so much we tender him.
+
+ADRIANA	Justice, most sacred duke, against the abbess!
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	She is a virtuous and a reverend lady:
+	It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong.
+
+ADRIANA	May it please your grace, Antipholus, my husband,
+	Whom I made lord of me and all I had,
+	At your important letters,--this ill day
+	A most outrageous fit of madness took him;
+	That desperately he hurried through the street,
+	With him his bondman, all as mad as he--
+	Doing displeasure to the citizens
+	By rushing in their houses, bearing thence
+	Rings, jewels, any thing his rage did like.
+	Once did I get him bound and sent him home,
+	Whilst to take order for the wrongs I went,
+	That here and there his fury had committed.
+	Anon, I wot not by what strong escape,
+	He broke from those that had the guard of him;
+	And with his mad attendant and himself,
+	Each one with ireful passion, with drawn swords,
+	Met us again and madly bent on us,
+	Chased us away; till, raising of more aid,
+	We came again to bind them. Then they fled
+	Into this abbey, whither we pursued them:
+	And here the abbess shuts the gates on us
+	And will not suffer us to fetch him out,
+	Nor send him forth that we may bear him hence.
+	Therefore, most gracious duke, with thy command
+	Let him be brought forth and borne hence for help.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Long since thy husband served me in my wars,
+	And I to thee engaged a prince's word,
+	When thou didst make him master of thy bed,
+	To do him all the grace and good I could.
+	Go, some of you, knock at the abbey-gate
+	And bid the lady abbess come to me.
+	I will determine this before I stir.
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+Servant	O mistress, mistress, shift and save yourself!
+	My master and his man are both broke loose,
+	Beaten the maids a-row and bound the doctor
+	Whose beard they have singed off with brands of fire;
+	And ever, as it blazed, they threw on him
+	Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair:
+	My master preaches patience to him and the while
+	His man with scissors nicks him like a fool,
+	And sure, unless you send some present help,
+	Between them they will kill the conjurer.
+
+ADRIANA	Peace, fool! thy master and his man are here,
+	And that is false thou dost report to us.
+
+Servant	Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true;
+	I have not breathed almost since I did see it.
+	He cries for you, and vows, if he can take you,
+	To scorch your face and to disfigure you.
+
+	[Cry within]
+
+	Hark, hark! I hear him, mistress. fly, be gone!
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Come, stand by me; fear nothing. Guard with halberds!
+
+ADRIANA	Ay me, it is my husband! Witness you,
+	That he is borne about invisible:
+	Even now we housed him in the abbey here;
+	And now he's there, past thought of human reason.
+
+	[Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus and DROMIO of Ephesus]
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Justice, most gracious duke, O, grant me justice!
+	Even for the service that long since I did thee,
+	When I bestrid thee in the wars and took
+	Deep scars to save thy life; even for the blood
+	That then I lost for thee, now grant me justice.
+
+AEGEON	Unless the fear of death doth make me dote,
+	I see my son Antipholus and Dromio.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Justice, sweet prince, against that woman there!
+	She whom thou gavest to me to be my wife,
+	That hath abused and dishonour'd me
+	Even in the strength and height of injury!
+	Beyond imagination is the wrong
+	That she this day hath shameless thrown on me.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Discover how, and thou shalt find me just.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	This day, great duke, she shut the doors upon me,
+	While she with harlots feasted in my house.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	A grievous fault! Say, woman, didst thou so?
+
+ADRIANA	No, my good lord: myself, he and my sister
+	To-day did dine together. So befall my soul
+	As this is false he burdens me withal!
+
+LUCIANA	Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on night,
+	But she tells to your highness simple truth!
+
+ANGELO	O perjured woman! They are both forsworn:
+	In this the madman justly chargeth them.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	My liege, I am advised what I say,
+	Neither disturbed with the effect of wine,
+	Nor heady-rash, provoked with raging ire,
+	Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad.
+	This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner:
+	That goldsmith there, were he not pack'd with her,
+	Could witness it, for he was with me then;
+	Who parted with me to go fetch a chain,
+	Promising to bring it to the Porpentine,
+	Where Balthazar and I did dine together.
+	Our dinner done, and he not coming thither,
+	I went to seek him: in the street I met him
+	And in his company that gentleman.
+	There did this perjured goldsmith swear me down
+	That I this day of him received the chain,
+	Which, God he knows, I saw not: for the which
+	He did arrest me with an officer.
+	I did obey, and sent my peasant home
+	For certain ducats: he with none return'd
+	Then fairly I bespoke the officer
+	To go in person with me to my house.
+	By the way we met
+	My wife, her sister, and a rabble more
+	Of vile confederates. Along with them
+	They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain,
+	A mere anatomy, a mountebank,
+	A threadbare juggler and a fortune-teller,
+	A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch,
+	A dead-looking man: this pernicious slave,
+	Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer,
+	And, gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse,
+	And with no face, as 'twere, outfacing me,
+	Cries out, I was possess'd. Then all together
+	They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence
+	And in a dark and dankish vault at home
+	There left me and my man, both bound together;
+	Till, gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder,
+	I gain'd my freedom, and immediately
+	Ran hither to your grace; whom I beseech
+	To give me ample satisfaction
+	For these deep shames and great indignities.
+
+ANGELO	My lord, in truth, thus far I witness with him,
+	That he dined not at home, but was lock'd out.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	But had he such a chain of thee or no?
+
+ANGELO	He had, my lord: and when he ran in here,
+	These people saw the chain about his neck.
+
+Second Merchant	Besides, I will be sworn these ears of mine
+	Heard you confess you had the chain of him
+	After you first forswore it on the mart:
+	And thereupon I drew my sword on you;
+	And then you fled into this abbey here,
+	From whence, I think, you are come by miracle.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	I never came within these abbey-walls,
+	Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me:
+	I never saw the chain, so help me Heaven!
+	And this is false you burden me withal.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Why, what an intricate impeach is this!
+	I think you all have drunk of Circe's cup.
+	If here you housed him, here he would have been;
+	If he were mad, he would not plead so coldly:
+	You say he dined at home; the goldsmith here
+	Denies that saying. Sirrah, what say you?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Sir, he dined with her there, at the Porpentine.
+
+Courtezan	He did, and from my finger snatch'd that ring.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	'Tis true, my liege; this ring I had of her.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here?
+
+Courtezan	As sure, my liege, as I do see your grace.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Why, this is strange. Go call the abbess hither.
+	I think you are all mated or stark mad.
+
+	[Exit one to Abbess]
+
+AEGEON	Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak a word:
+	Haply I see a friend will save my life
+	And pay the sum that may deliver me.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Speak freely, Syracusian, what thou wilt.
+
+AEGEON	Is not your name, sir, call'd Antipholus?
+	And is not that your bondman, Dromio?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Within this hour I was his bondman sir,
+	But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords:
+	Now am I Dromio and his man unbound.
+
+AEGEON	I am sure you both of you remember me.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Ourselves we do remember, sir, by you;
+	For lately we were bound, as you are now
+	You are not Pinch's patient, are you, sir?
+
+AEGEON	Why look you strange on me? you know me well.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS	I never saw you in my life till now.
+
+AEGEON	O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last,
+	And careful hours with time's deformed hand
+	Have written strange defeatures in my face:
+	But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Neither.
+
+AEGEON	Dromio, nor thou?
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	                  No, trust me, sir, nor I.
+
+AEGEON	I am sure thou dost.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Ay, sir, but I am sure I do not; and whatsoever a
+	man denies, you are now bound to believe him.
+
+AEGEON	Not know my voice! O time's extremity,
+	Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poor tongue
+	In seven short years, that here my only son
+	Knows not my feeble key of untuned cares?
+	Though now this grained face of mine be hid
+	In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow,
+	And all the conduits of my blood froze up,
+	Yet hath my night of life some memory,
+	My wasting lamps some fading glimmer left,
+	My dull deaf ears a little use to hear:
+	All these old witnesses--I cannot err--
+	Tell me thou art my son Antipholus.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	I never saw my father in my life.
+
+AEGEON	But seven years since, in Syracusa, boy,
+	Thou know'st we parted: but perhaps, my son,
+	Thou shamest to acknowledge me in misery.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	The duke and all that know me in the city
+	Can witness with me that it is not so
+	I ne'er saw Syracusa in my life.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	I tell thee, Syracusian, twenty years
+	Have I been patron to Antipholus,
+	During which time he ne'er saw Syracusa:
+	I see thy age and dangers make thee dote.
+
+	[Re-enter AEMILIA, with ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse and
+	DROMIO of Syracuse]
+
+AEMELIA	Most mighty duke, behold a man much wrong'd.
+
+	[All gather to see them]
+
+ADRIANA	I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	One of these men is Genius to the other;
+	And so of these. Which is the natural man,
+	And which the spirit? who deciphers them?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	I, sir, am Dromio; command him away.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	I, sir, am Dromio; pray, let me stay.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	AEgeon art thou not? or else his ghost?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	O, my old master! who hath bound him here?
+
+AEMELIA	Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds
+	And gain a husband by his liberty.
+	Speak, old AEgeon, if thou be'st the man
+	That hadst a wife once call'd AEmilia
+	That bore thee at a burden two fair sons:
+	O, if thou be'st the same AEgeon, speak,
+	And speak unto the same AEmilia!
+
+AEGEON	If I dream not, thou art AEmilia:
+	If thou art she, tell me where is that son
+	That floated with thee on the fatal raft?
+
+AEMELIA	By men of Epidamnum he and I
+	And the twin Dromio all were taken up;
+	But by and by rude fishermen of Corinth
+	By force took Dromio and my son from them
+	And me they left with those of Epidamnum.
+	What then became of them I cannot tell
+	I to this fortune that you see me in.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Why, here begins his morning story right;
+	These two Antipholuses, these two so like,
+	And these two Dromios, one in semblance,--
+	Besides her urging of her wreck at sea,--
+	These are the parents to these children,
+	Which accidentally are met together.
+	Antipholus, thou camest from Corinth first?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	No, sir, not I; I came from Syracuse.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	Stay, stand apart; I know not which is which.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	I came from Corinth, my most gracious lord,--
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	And I with him.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Brought to this town by that most famous warrior,
+	Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle.
+
+ADRIANA	Which of you two did dine with me to-day?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	I, gentle mistress.
+
+ADRIANA	And are not you my husband?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	No; I say nay to that.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	And so do I; yet did she call me so:
+	And this fair gentlewoman, her sister here,
+	Did call me brother.
+
+	[To Luciana]
+
+		What I told you then,
+	I hope I shall have leisure to make good;
+	If this be not a dream I see and hear.
+
+ANGELO	That is the chain, sir, which you had of me.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	I think it be, sir; I deny it not.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	And you, sir, for this chain arrested me.
+
+ANGELO	I think I did, sir; I deny it not.
+
+ADRIANA	I sent you money, sir, to be your bail,
+	By Dromio; but I think he brought it not.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	No, none by me.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	This purse of ducats I received from you,
+	And Dromio, my man, did bring them me.
+	I see we still did meet each other's man,
+	And I was ta'en for him, and he for me,
+	And thereupon these errors are arose.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	These ducats pawn I for my father here.
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	It shall not need; thy father hath his life.
+
+Courtezan	Sir, I must have that diamond from you.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	There, take it; and much thanks for my good cheer.
+
+AEMELIA	Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains
+	To go with us into the abbey here
+	And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes:
+	And all that are assembled in this place,
+	That by this sympathized one day's error
+	Have suffer'd wrong, go keep us company,
+	And we shall make full satisfaction.
+	Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail
+	Of you, my sons; and till this present hour
+	My heavy burden ne'er delivered.
+	The duke, my husband and my children both,
+	And you the calendars of their nativity,
+	Go to a gossips' feast and go with me;
+	After so long grief, such festivity!
+
+DUKE SOLINUS	With all my heart, I'll gossip at this feast.
+
+	[Exeunt all but Antipholus of Syracuse, Antipholus
+	of Ephesus, Dromio of Syracuse and Dromio of Ephesus]
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Master, shall I fetch your stuff from shipboard?
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF EPHESUS	Dromio, what stuff of mine hast thou embark'd?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Your goods that lay at host, sir, in the Centaur.
+
+ANTIPHOLUS
+OF SYRACUSE	He speaks to me. I am your master, Dromio:
+	Come, go with us; we'll look to that anon:
+	Embrace thy brother there; rejoice with him.
+
+	[Exeunt Antipholus of Syracuse and Antipholus of Ephesus]
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	There is a fat friend at your master's house,
+	That kitchen'd me for you to-day at dinner:
+	She now shall be my sister, not my wife.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother:
+	I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth.
+	Will you walk in to see their gossiping?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	Not I, sir; you are my elder.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	That's a question: how shall we try it?
+
+DROMIO OF SYRACUSE	We'll draw cuts for the senior: till then lead thou first.
+
+DROMIO OF EPHESUS	Nay, then, thus:
+	We came into the world like brother and brother;
+	And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+CYMBELINE	king of Britain.
+
+CLOTEN	son to the Queen by a former husband.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	a gentleman, husband to Imogen.
+
+BELARIUS	a banished lord, disguised under the name of Morgan.
+
+
+GUIDERIUS	|  sons to Cymbeline, disguised under the names
+	|  of Polydote and Cadwal, supposed sons to
+ARVIRAGUS	|  Morgan.
+
+
+PHILARIO	friend to Posthumus,	|
+			|  Italians.
+IACHIMO	friend to Philario, 	|
+
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	general of the Roman forces.
+
+PISANIO	servant to Posthumus.
+
+CORNELIUS	a physician.
+
+	A Roman Captain. (Captain:)
+
+	Two British Captains.
+	(First Captain:)
+	(Second Captain:)
+
+	A Frenchman, friend to Philario.
+	(Frenchman:)
+
+	Two Lords of Cymbeline's court.
+	(First Lord:)
+	(Second Lord:)
+
+	Two Gentlemen of the same.
+	(First Gentleman:)
+	(Second Gentleman:)
+
+	Two Gaolers.
+	(First Gaoler:)
+	(Second Gaoler:)
+
+QUEEN	wife to Cymbeline.
+
+IMOGEN	daughter to Cymbeline by a former queen.
+
+HELEN	a lady attending on Imogen.
+
+	Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes,
+	a Soothsayer, a Dutchman, a Spaniard, Musicians,
+	Officers, Captains, Soldiers, Messengers,
+	and other Attendants. (Lord:)
+	(Lady:)
+	(First Lady:)
+	(First Senator:)
+	(Second Senator:)
+	(First Tribune:)
+	(Soothsayer:)
+	(Messenger:)
+
+	Apparitions.
+	(Sicilius Leonatus:)
+	(Mother:)
+	(First Brother:)
+	(Second Brother:)
+	(Jupiter:)
+
+SCENE	Britain; Rome.
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Britain. The garden of Cymbeline's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter two Gentlemen]
+
+First Gentleman	You do not meet a man but frowns: our bloods
+	No more obey the heavens than our courtiers
+	Still seem as does the king.
+
+Second Gentleman	But what's the matter?
+
+First Gentleman	His daughter, and the heir of's kingdom, whom
+	He purposed to his wife's sole son--a widow
+	That late he married--hath referr'd herself
+	Unto a poor but worthy gentleman: she's wedded;
+	Her husband banish'd; she imprison'd: all
+	Is outward sorrow; though I think the king
+	Be touch'd at very heart.
+
+Second Gentleman	None but the king?
+
+First Gentleman	He that hath lost her too; so is the queen,
+	That most desired the match; but not a courtier,
+	Although they wear their faces to the bent
+	Of the king's look's, hath a heart that is not
+	Glad at the thing they scowl at.
+
+Second Gentleman	And why so?
+
+First Gentleman	He that hath miss'd the princess is a thing
+	Too bad for bad report: and he that hath her--
+	I mean, that married her, alack, good man!
+	And therefore banish'd--is a creature such
+	As, to seek through the regions of the earth
+	For one his like, there would be something failing
+	In him that should compare. I do not think
+	So fair an outward and such stuff within
+	Endows a man but he.
+
+Second Gentleman	You speak him far.
+
+First Gentleman	I do extend him, sir, within himself,
+	Crush him together rather than unfold
+	His measure duly.
+
+Second Gentleman	                  What's his name and birth?
+
+First Gentleman	I cannot delve him to the root: his father
+	Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour
+	Against the Romans with Cassibelan,
+	But had his titles by Tenantius whom
+	He served with glory and admired success,
+	So gain'd the sur-addition Leonatus;
+	And had, besides this gentleman in question,
+	Two other sons, who in the wars o' the time
+	Died with their swords in hand; for which
+	their father,
+	Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrow
+	That he quit being, and his gentle lady,
+	Big of this gentleman our theme, deceased
+	As he was born. The king he takes the babe
+	To his protection, calls him Posthumus Leonatus,
+	Breeds him and makes him of his bed-chamber,
+	Puts to him all the learnings that his time
+	Could make him the receiver of; which he took,
+	As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd,
+	And in's spring became a harvest, lived in court--
+	Which rare it is to do--most praised, most loved,
+	A sample to the youngest, to the more mature
+	A glass that feated them, and to the graver
+	A child that guided dotards; to his mistress,
+	For whom he now is banish'd, her own price
+	Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue;
+	By her election may be truly read
+	What kind of man he is.
+
+Second Gentleman	I honour him
+	Even out of your report. But, pray you, tell me,
+	Is she sole child to the king?
+
+First Gentleman	His only child.
+	He had two sons: if this be worth your hearing,
+	Mark it: the eldest of them at three years old,
+	I' the swathing-clothes the other, from their nursery
+	Were stol'n, and to this hour no guess in knowledge
+	Which way they went.
+
+Second Gentleman	How long is this ago?
+
+First Gentleman	Some twenty years.
+
+Second Gentleman	That a king's children should be so convey'd,
+	So slackly guarded, and the search so slow,
+	That could not trace them!
+
+First Gentleman	Howsoe'er 'tis strange,
+	Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,
+	Yet is it true, sir.
+
+Second Gentleman	I do well believe you.
+
+First Gentleman	We must forbear: here comes the gentleman,
+	The queen, and princess.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS LEONATUS, and IMOGEN]
+
+QUEEN	No, be assured you shall not find me, daughter,
+	After the slander of most stepmothers,
+	Evil-eyed unto you: you're my prisoner, but
+	Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys
+	That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
+	So soon as I can win the offended king,
+	I will be known your advocate: marry, yet
+	The fire of rage is in him, and 'twere good
+	You lean'd unto his sentence with what patience
+	Your wisdom may inform you.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Please your highness,
+	I will from hence to-day.
+
+QUEEN	You know the peril.
+	I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
+	The pangs of barr'd affections, though the king
+	Hath charged you should not speak together.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+IMOGEN	O
+	Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant
+	Can tickle where she wounds! My dearest husband,
+	I something fear my father's wrath; but nothing--
+	Always reserved my holy duty--what
+	His rage can do on me: you must be gone;
+	And I shall here abide the hourly shot
+	Of angry eyes, not comforted to live,
+	But that there is this jewel in the world
+	That I may see again.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	My queen! my mistress!
+	O lady, weep no more, lest I give cause
+	To be suspected of more tenderness
+	Than doth become a man. I will remain
+	The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth:
+	My residence in Rome at one Philario's,
+	Who to my father was a friend, to me
+	Known but by letter: thither write, my queen,
+	And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send,
+	Though ink be made of gall.
+
+	[Re-enter QUEEN]
+
+QUEEN	Be brief, I pray you:
+	If the king come, I shall incur I know not
+	How much of his displeasure.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+		        Yet I'll move him
+	To walk this way: I never do him wrong,
+	But he does buy my injuries, to be friends;
+	Pays dear for my offences.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Should we be taking leave
+	As long a term as yet we have to live,
+	The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu!
+
+IMOGEN	Nay, stay a little:
+	Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
+	Such parting were too petty. Look here, love;
+	This diamond was my mother's: take it, heart;
+	But keep it till you woo another wife,
+	When Imogen is dead.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	How, how! another?
+	You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
+	And sear up my embracements from a next
+	With bonds of death!
+
+	[Putting on the ring]
+
+		Remain, remain thou here
+	While sense can keep it on. And, sweetest, fairest,
+	As I my poor self did exchange for you,
+	To your so infinite loss, so in our trifles
+	I still win of you: for my sake wear this;
+	It is a manacle of love; I'll place it
+	Upon this fairest prisoner.
+
+	[Putting a bracelet upon her arm]
+
+IMOGEN	O the gods!
+	When shall we see again?
+
+	[Enter CYMBELINE and Lords]
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Alack, the king!
+
+CYMBELINE	Thou basest thing, avoid! hence, from my sight!
+	If after this command thou fraught the court
+	With thy unworthiness, thou diest: away!
+	Thou'rt poison to my blood.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	The gods protect you!
+	And bless the good remainders of the court! I am gone.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+IMOGEN	                  There cannot be a pinch in death
+	More sharp than this is.
+
+CYMBELINE	O disloyal thing,
+	That shouldst repair my youth, thou heap'st
+	A year's age on me.
+
+IMOGEN	I beseech you, sir,
+	Harm not yourself with your vexation
+	I am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare
+	Subdues all pangs, all fears.
+
+CYMBELINE	Past grace? obedience?
+
+IMOGEN	Past hope, and in despair; that way, past grace.
+
+CYMBELINE	That mightst have had the sole son of my queen!
+
+IMOGEN	O blest, that I might not! I chose an eagle,
+	And did avoid a puttock.
+
+CYMBELINE	Thou took'st a beggar; wouldst have made my throne
+	A seat for baseness.
+
+IMOGEN	No; I rather added
+	A lustre to it.
+
+CYMBELINE	                  O thou vile one!
+
+IMOGEN	Sir,
+	It is your fault that I have loved Posthumus:
+	You bred him as my playfellow, and he is
+	A man worth any woman, overbuys me
+	Almost the sum he pays.
+
+CYMBELINE	What, art thou mad?
+
+IMOGEN	Almost, sir: heaven restore me! Would I were
+	A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus
+	Our neighbour shepherd's son!
+
+CYMBELINE	Thou foolish thing!
+
+	[Re-enter QUEEN]
+
+	They were again together: you have done
+	Not after our command. Away with her,
+	And pen her up.
+
+QUEEN	                  Beseech your patience. Peace,
+	Dear lady daughter, peace! Sweet sovereign,
+	Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some comfort
+	Out of your best advice.
+
+CYMBELINE	Nay, let her languish
+	A drop of blood a day; and, being aged,
+	Die of this folly!
+
+	[Exeunt CYMBELINE and Lords]
+
+QUEEN	                  Fie! you must give way.
+
+	[Enter PISANIO]
+
+	Here is your servant. How now, sir! What news?
+
+PISANIO	My lord your son drew on my master.
+
+QUEEN	Ha!
+	No harm, I trust, is done?
+
+PISANIO	There might have been,
+	But that my master rather play'd than fought
+	And had no help of anger: they were parted
+	By gentlemen at hand.
+
+QUEEN	I am very glad on't.
+
+IMOGEN	Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part.
+	To draw upon an exile! O brave sir!
+	I would they were in Afric both together;
+	Myself by with a needle, that I might prick
+	The goer-back. Why came you from your master?
+
+PISANIO	On his command: he would not suffer me
+	To bring him to the haven; left these notes
+	Of what commands I should be subject to,
+	When 't pleased you to employ me.
+
+QUEEN	This hath been
+	Your faithful servant: I dare lay mine honour
+	He will remain so.
+
+PISANIO	                  I humbly thank your highness.
+
+QUEEN	Pray, walk awhile.
+
+IMOGEN	                  About some half-hour hence,
+	I pray you, speak with me: you shall at least
+	Go see my lord aboard: for this time leave me.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter CLOTEN and two Lords]
+
+First Lord	Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the
+	violence of action hath made you reek as a
+	sacrifice: where air comes out, air comes in:
+	there's none abroad so wholesome as that you vent.
+
+CLOTEN	If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I hurt him?
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  No, 'faith; not so much as his patience.
+
+First Lord	Hurt him! his body's a passable carcass, if he be
+	not hurt: it is a thoroughfare for steel, if it be not hurt.
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  His steel was in debt; it went o' the
+	backside the town.
+
+CLOTEN	The villain would not stand me.
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  No; but he fled forward still, toward your face.
+
+First Lord	Stand you! You have land enough of your own: but
+	he added to your having; gave you some ground.
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  As many inches as you have oceans. Puppies!
+
+CLOTEN	I would they had not come between us.
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  So would I, till you had measured how long
+	a fool you were upon the ground.
+
+CLOTEN	And that she should love this fellow and refuse me!
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  If it be a sin to make a true election, she
+	is damned.
+
+First Lord	Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain
+	go not together: she's a good sign, but I have seen
+	small reflection of her wit.
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  She shines not upon fools, lest the
+	reflection should hurt her.
+
+CLOTEN	Come, I'll to my chamber. Would there had been some
+	hurt done!
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  I wish not so; unless it had been the fall
+	of an ass, which is no great hurt.
+
+CLOTEN	You'll go with us?
+
+First Lord	I'll attend your lordship.
+
+CLOTEN	Nay, come, let's go together.
+
+Second Lord	Well, my lord.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in Cymbeline's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter IMOGEN and PISANIO]
+
+IMOGEN	I would thou grew'st unto the shores o' the haven,
+	And question'dst every sail: if he should write
+	And not have it, 'twere a paper lost,
+	As offer'd mercy is. What was the last
+	That he spake to thee?
+
+PISANIO	It was his queen, his queen!
+
+IMOGEN	Then waved his handkerchief?
+
+PISANIO	And kiss'd it, madam.
+
+IMOGEN	Senseless Linen! happier therein than I!
+	And that was all?
+
+PISANIO	                  No, madam; for so long
+	As he could make me with this eye or ear
+	Distinguish him from others, he did keep
+	The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief,
+	Still waving, as the fits and stirs of 's mind
+	Could best express how slow his soul sail'd on,
+	How swift his ship.
+
+IMOGEN	Thou shouldst have made him
+	As little as a crow, or less, ere left
+	To after-eye him.
+
+PISANIO	                  Madam, so I did.
+
+IMOGEN	I would have broke mine eye-strings; crack'd them, but
+	To look upon him, till the diminution
+	Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle,
+	Nay, follow'd him, till he had melted from
+	The smallness of a gnat to air, and then
+	Have turn'd mine eye and wept. But, good Pisanio,
+	When shall we hear from him?
+
+PISANIO	Be assured, madam,
+	With his next vantage.
+
+IMOGEN	I did not take my leave of him, but had
+	Most pretty things to say: ere I could tell him
+	How I would think on him at certain hours
+	Such thoughts and such, or I could make him swear
+	The shes of Italy should not betray
+	Mine interest and his honour, or have charged him,
+	At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight,
+	To encounter me with orisons, for then
+	I am in heaven for him; or ere I could
+	Give him that parting kiss which I had set
+	Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father
+	And like the tyrannous breathing of the north
+	Shakes all our buds from growing.
+
+	[Enter a Lady]
+
+Lady	The queen, madam,
+	Desires your highness' company.
+
+IMOGEN	Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch'd.
+	I will attend the queen.
+
+PISANIO	Madam, I shall.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Rome. Philario's house.
+
+
+	[Enter PHILARIO, IACHIMO, a Frenchman, a
+	Dutchman, and a Spaniard]
+
+IACHIMO	Believe it, sir, I have seen him in Britain: he was
+	then of a crescent note, expected to prove so worthy
+	as since he hath been allowed the name of; but I
+	could then have looked on him without the help of
+	admiration, though the catalogue of his endowments
+	had been tabled by his side and I to peruse him by items.
+
+PHILARIO	You speak of him when he was less furnished than now
+	he is with that which makes him both without and within.
+
+Frenchman	I have seen him in France: we had very many there
+	could behold the sun with as firm eyes as he.
+
+IACHIMO	This matter of marrying his king's daughter, wherein
+	he must be weighed rather by her value than his own,
+	words him, I doubt not, a great deal from the matter.
+
+Frenchman	And then his banishment.
+
+IACHIMO	Ay, and the approbation of those that weep this
+	lamentable divorce under her colours are wonderfully
+	to extend him; be it but to fortify her judgment,
+	which else an easy battery might lay flat, for
+	taking a beggar without less quality. But how comes
+	it he is to sojourn with you? How creeps
+	acquaintance?
+
+PHILARIO	His father and I were soldiers together; to whom I
+	have been often bound for no less than my life.
+	Here comes the Briton: let him be so entertained
+	amongst you as suits, with gentlemen of your
+	knowing, to a stranger of his quality.
+
+	[Enter POSTHUMUS LEONATUS]
+
+	I beseech you all, be better known to this
+	gentleman; whom I commend to you as a noble friend
+	of mine: how worthy he is I will leave to appear
+	hereafter, rather than story him in his own hearing.
+
+Frenchman	Sir, we have known together in Orleans.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies,
+	which I will be ever to pay and yet pay still.
+
+Frenchman	Sir, you o'er-rate my poor kindness: I was glad I
+	did atone my countryman and you; it had been pity
+	you should have been put together with so mortal a
+	purpose as then each bore, upon importance of so
+	slight and trivial a nature.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	By your pardon, sir, I was then a young traveller;
+	rather shunned to go even with what I heard than in
+	my every action to be guided by others' experiences:
+	but upon my mended judgment--if I offend not to say
+	it is mended--my quarrel was not altogether slight.
+
+Frenchman	'Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitrement of swords,
+	and by such two that would by all likelihood have
+	confounded one the other, or have fallen both.
+
+IACHIMO	Can we, with manners, ask what was the difference?
+
+Frenchman	Safely, I think: 'twas a contention in public,
+	which may, without contradiction, suffer the report.
+	It was much like an argument that fell out last
+	night, where each of us fell in praise of our
+	country mistresses; this gentleman at that time
+	vouching--and upon warrant of bloody
+	affirmation--his to be more fair, virtuous, wise,
+	chaste, constant-qualified and less attemptable
+	than any the rarest of our ladies in France.
+
+IACHIMO	That lady is not now living, or this gentleman's
+	opinion by this worn out.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	She holds her virtue still and I my mind.
+
+IACHIMO	You must not so far prefer her 'fore ours of Italy.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Being so far provoked as I was in France, I would
+	abate her nothing, though I profess myself her
+	adorer, not her friend.
+
+IACHIMO	As fair and as good--a kind of hand-in-hand
+	comparison--had been something too fair and too good
+	for any lady in Britain. If she went before others
+	I have seen, as that diamond of yours outlustres
+	many I have beheld. I could not but believe she
+	excelled many: but I have not seen the most
+	precious diamond that is, nor you the lady.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	I praised her as I rated her: so do I my stone.
+
+IACHIMO	What do you esteem it at?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	More than the world enjoys.
+
+IACHIMO	Either your unparagoned mistress is dead, or she's
+	outprized by a trifle.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	You are mistaken: the one may be sold, or given, if
+	there were wealth enough for the purchase, or merit
+	for the gift: the other is not a thing for sale,
+	and only the gift of the gods.
+
+IACHIMO	Which the gods have given you?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Which, by their graces, I will keep.
+
+IACHIMO	You may wear her in title yours: but, you know,
+	strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds. Your
+	ring may be stolen too: so your brace of unprizable
+	estimations; the one is but frail and the other
+	casual; a cunning thief, or a that way accomplished
+	courtier, would hazard the winning both of first and last.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Your Italy contains none so accomplished a courtier
+	to convince the honour of my mistress, if, in the
+	holding or loss of that, you term her frail. I do
+	nothing doubt you have store of thieves;
+	notwithstanding, I fear not my ring.
+
+PHILARIO	Let us leave here, gentlemen.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Sir, with all my heart. This worthy signior, I
+	thank him, makes no stranger of me; we are familiar at first.
+
+IACHIMO	With five times so much conversation, I should get
+	ground of your fair mistress, make her go back, even
+	to the yielding, had I admittance and opportunity to friend.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	No, no.
+
+IACHIMO	I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of my estate to
+	your ring; which, in my opinion, o'ervalues it
+	something: but I make my wager rather against your
+	confidence than her reputation: and, to bar your
+	offence herein too, I durst attempt it against any
+	lady in the world.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	You are a great deal abused in too bold a
+	persuasion; and I doubt not you sustain what you're
+	worthy of by your attempt.
+
+IACHIMO	What's that?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	A repulse: though your attempt, as you call it,
+	deserve more; a punishment too.
+
+PHILARIO	Gentlemen, enough of this: it came in too suddenly;
+	let it die as it was born, and, I pray you, be
+	better acquainted.
+
+IACHIMO	Would I had put my estate and my neighbour's on the
+	approbation of what I have spoke!
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	What lady would you choose to assail?
+
+IACHIMO	Yours; whom in constancy you think stands so safe.
+	I will lay you ten thousand ducats to your ring,
+	that, commend me to the court where your lady is,
+	with no more advantage than the opportunity of a
+	second conference, and I will bring from thence
+	that honour of hers which you imagine so reserved.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	I will wage against your gold, gold to it: my ring
+	I hold dear as my finger; 'tis part of it.
+
+IACHIMO	You are afraid, and therein the wiser. If you buy
+	ladies' flesh at a million a dram, you cannot
+	preserve it from tainting: but I see you have some
+	religion in you, that you fear.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	This is but a custom in your tongue; you bear a
+	graver purpose, I hope.
+
+IACHIMO	I am the master of my speeches, and would undergo
+	what's spoken, I swear.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Will you? I shall but lend my diamond till your
+	return: let there be covenants drawn between's: my
+	mistress exceeds in goodness the hugeness of your
+	unworthy thinking: I dare you to this match: here's my ring.
+
+PHILARIO	I will have it no lay.
+
+IACHIMO	By the gods, it is one. If I bring you no
+	sufficient testimony that I have enjoyed the dearest
+	bodily part of your mistress, my ten thousand ducats
+	are yours; so is your diamond too: if I come off,
+	and leave her in such honour as you have trust in,
+	she your jewel, this your jewel, and my gold are
+	yours: provided I have your commendation for my more
+	free entertainment.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	I embrace these conditions; let us have articles
+	betwixt us. Only, thus far you shall answer: if
+	you make your voyage upon her and give me directly
+	to understand you have prevailed, I am no further
+	your enemy; she is not worth our debate: if she
+	remain unseduced, you not making it appear
+	otherwise, for your ill opinion and the assault you
+	have made to her chastity you shall answer me with
+	your sword.
+
+IACHIMO	Your hand; a covenant: we will have these things set
+	down by lawful counsel, and straight away for
+	Britain, lest the bargain should catch cold and
+	starve: I will fetch my gold and have our two
+	wagers recorded.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Agreed.
+
+	[Exeunt POSTHUMUS LEONATUS and IACHIMO]
+
+Frenchman	Will this hold, think you?
+
+PHILARIO	Signior Iachimo will not from it.
+	Pray, let us follow 'em.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Britain. A room in Cymbeline's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter QUEEN, Ladies, and CORNELIUS]
+
+QUEEN	Whiles yet the dew's on ground, gather those flowers;
+	Make haste: who has the note of them?
+
+First Lady	I, madam.
+
+QUEEN	Dispatch.
+
+	[Exeunt Ladies]
+
+	Now, master doctor, have you brought those drugs?
+
+CORNELIUS	Pleaseth your highness, ay: here they are, madam:
+
+	[Presenting a small box]
+
+	But I beseech your grace, without offence,--
+	My conscience bids me ask--wherefore you have
+	Commanded of me those most poisonous compounds,
+	Which are the movers of a languishing death;
+	But though slow, deadly?
+
+QUEEN	I wonder, doctor,
+	Thou ask'st me such a question. Have I not been
+	Thy pupil long? Hast thou not learn'd me how
+	To make perfumes? distil? preserve? yea, so
+	That our great king himself doth woo me oft
+	For my confections? Having thus far proceeded,--
+	Unless thou think'st me devilish--is't not meet
+	That I did amplify my judgment in
+	Other conclusions? I will try the forces
+	Of these thy compounds on such creatures as
+	We count not worth the hanging, but none human,
+	To try the vigour of them and apply
+	Allayments to their act, and by them gather
+	Their several virtues and effects.
+
+CORNELIUS	Your highness
+	Shall from this practise but make hard your heart:
+	Besides, the seeing these effects will be
+	Both noisome and infectious.
+
+QUEEN	O, content thee.
+
+	[Enter PISANIO]
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	Here comes a flattering rascal; upon him
+	Will I first work: he's for his master,
+	An enemy to my son. How now, Pisanio!
+	Doctor, your service for this time is ended;
+	Take your own way.
+
+CORNELIUS	[Aside]          I do suspect you, madam;
+	But you shall do no harm.
+
+QUEEN	[To PISANIO]            Hark thee, a word.
+
+CORNELIUS	[Aside]  I do not like her. She doth think she has
+	Strange lingering poisons: I do know her spirit,
+	And will not trust one of her malice with
+	A drug of such damn'd nature. Those she has
+	Will stupefy and dull the sense awhile;
+	Which first, perchance, she'll prove on
+	cats and dogs,
+	Then afterward up higher: but there is
+	No danger in what show of death it makes,
+	More than the locking-up the spirits a time,
+	To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool'd
+	With a most false effect; and I the truer,
+	So to be false with her.
+
+QUEEN	No further service, doctor,
+	Until I send for thee.
+
+CORNELIUS	I humbly take my leave.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+QUEEN	Weeps she still, say'st thou? Dost thou think in time
+	She will not quench and let instructions enter
+	Where folly now possesses? Do thou work:
+	When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son,
+	I'll tell thee on the instant thou art then
+	As great as is thy master, greater, for
+	His fortunes all lie speechless and his name
+	Is at last gasp: return he cannot, nor
+	Continue where he is: to shift his being
+	Is to exchange one misery with another,
+	And every day that comes comes to decay
+	A day's work in him. What shalt thou expect,
+	To be depender on a thing that leans,
+	Who cannot be new built, nor has no friends,
+	So much as but to prop him?
+
+	[The QUEEN drops the box: PISANIO takes it up]
+
+		      Thou takest up
+	Thou know'st not what; but take it for thy labour:
+	It is a thing I made, which hath the king
+	Five times redeem'd from death: I do not know
+	What is more cordial. Nay, I prethee, take it;
+	It is an earnest of a further good
+	That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how
+	The case stands with her; do't as from thyself.
+	Think what a chance thou changest on, but think
+	Thou hast thy mistress still, to boot, my son,
+	Who shall take notice of thee: I'll move the king
+	To any shape of thy preferment such
+	As thou'lt desire; and then myself, I chiefly,
+	That set thee on to this desert, am bound
+	To load thy merit richly. Call my women:
+	Think on my words.
+
+	[Exit PISANIO]
+
+		A sly and constant knave,
+	Not to be shaked; the agent for his master
+	And the remembrancer of her to hold
+	The hand-fast to her lord. I have given him that
+	Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her
+	Of liegers for her sweet, and which she after,
+	Except she bend her humour, shall be assured
+	To taste of too.
+
+	[Re-enter PISANIO and Ladies]
+
+	So, so: well done, well done:
+	The violets, cowslips, and the primroses,
+	Bear to my closet. Fare thee well, Pisanio;
+	Think on my words.
+
+	[Exeunt QUEEN and Ladies]
+
+PISANIO	And shall do:
+	But when to my good lord I prove untrue,
+	I'll choke myself: there's all I'll do for you.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	The same. Another room in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter IMOGEN]
+
+IMOGEN	A father cruel, and a step-dame false;
+	A foolish suitor to a wedded lady,
+	That hath her husband banish'd;--O, that husband!
+	My supreme crown of grief! and those repeated
+	Vexations of it! Had I been thief-stol'n,
+	As my two brothers, happy! but most miserable
+	Is the desire that's glorious: blest be those,
+	How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills,
+	Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fie!
+
+	[Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO]
+
+PISANIO	Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome,
+	Comes from my lord with letters.
+
+IACHIMO	Change you, madam?
+	The worthy Leonatus is in safety
+	And greets your highness dearly.
+
+	[Presents a letter]
+
+IMOGEN	Thanks, good sir:
+	You're kindly welcome.
+
+IACHIMO	[Aside]  All of her that is out of door most rich!
+	If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare,
+	She is alone the Arabian bird, and I
+	Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend!
+	Arm me, audacity, from head to foot!
+	Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight;
+	Rather directly fly.
+
+IMOGEN	[Reads]  'He is one of the noblest note, to whose
+	kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon
+	him accordingly, as you value your trust--
+			 LEONATUS.'
+	So far I read aloud:
+	But even the very middle of my heart
+	Is warm'd by the rest, and takes it thankfully.
+	You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I
+	Have words to bid you, and shall find it so
+	In all that I can do.
+
+IACHIMO	Thanks, fairest lady.
+	What, are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes
+	To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop
+	Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt
+	The fiery orbs above and the twinn'd stones
+	Upon the number'd beach? and can we not
+	Partition make with spectacles so precious
+	'Twixt fair and foul?
+
+IMOGEN	What makes your admiration?
+
+IACHIMO	It cannot be i' the eye, for apes and monkeys
+	'Twixt two such shes would chatter this way and
+	Contemn with mows the other; nor i' the judgment,
+	For idiots in this case of favour would
+	Be wisely definite; nor i' the appetite;
+	Sluttery to such neat excellence opposed
+	Should make desire vomit emptiness,
+	Not so allured to feed.
+
+IMOGEN	What is the matter, trow?
+
+IACHIMO	The cloyed will,
+	That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub
+	Both fill'd and running, ravening first the lamb
+	Longs after for the garbage.
+
+IMOGEN	What, dear sir,
+	Thus raps you? Are you well?
+
+IACHIMO	Thanks, madam; well.
+
+	[To PISANIO]
+
+		 Beseech you, sir, desire
+	My man's abode where I did leave him: he
+	Is strange and peevish.
+
+PISANIO	I was going, sir,
+	To give him welcome.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+IMOGEN	Continues well my lord? His health, beseech you?
+
+IACHIMO	Well, madam.
+
+IMOGEN	Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is.
+
+IACHIMO	Exceeding pleasant; none a stranger there
+	So merry and so gamesome: he is call'd
+	The Briton reveller.
+
+IMOGEN	When he was here,
+	He did incline to sadness, and oft-times
+	Not knowing why.
+
+IACHIMO	                  I never saw him sad.
+	There is a Frenchman his companion, one
+	An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves
+	A Gallian girl at home; he furnaces
+	The thick sighs from him, whiles the jolly Briton--
+	Your lord, I mean--laughs from's free lungs, cries 'O,
+	Can my sides hold, to think that man, who knows
+	By history, report, or his own proof,
+	What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose
+	But must be, will his free hours languish for
+	Assured bondage?'
+
+IMOGEN	                  Will my lord say so?
+
+IACHIMO	Ay, madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter:
+	It is a recreation to be by
+	And hear him mock the Frenchman. But, heavens know,
+	Some men are much to blame.
+
+IMOGEN	Not he, I hope.
+
+IACHIMO	Not he: but yet heaven's bounty towards him might
+	Be used more thankfully. In himself, 'tis much;
+	In you, which I account his beyond all talents,
+	Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound
+	To pity too.
+
+IMOGEN	                  What do you pity, sir?
+
+IACHIMO	Two creatures heartily.
+
+IMOGEN	Am I one, sir?
+	You look on me: what wreck discern you in me
+	Deserves your pity?
+
+IACHIMO	Lamentable! What,
+	To hide me from the radiant sun and solace
+	I' the dungeon by a snuff?
+
+IMOGEN	I pray you, sir,
+	Deliver with more openness your answers
+	To my demands. Why do you pity me?
+
+IACHIMO	That others do--
+	I was about to say--enjoy your--But
+	It is an office of the gods to venge it,
+	Not mine to speak on 't.
+
+IMOGEN	You do seem to know
+	Something of me, or what concerns me: pray you,--
+	Since doubling things go ill often hurts more
+	Than to be sure they do; for certainties
+	Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing,
+	The remedy then born--discover to me
+	What both you spur and stop.
+
+IACHIMO	Had I this cheek
+	To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch,
+	Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul
+	To the oath of loyalty; this object, which
+	Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
+	Fixing it only here; should I, damn'd then,
+	Slaver with lips as common as the stairs
+	That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hands
+	Made hard with hourly falsehood--falsehood, as
+	With labour; then by-peeping in an eye
+	Base and unlustrous as the smoky light
+	That's fed with stinking tallow; it were fit
+	That all the plagues of hell should at one time
+	Encounter such revolt.
+
+IMOGEN	My lord, I fear,
+	Has forgot Britain.
+
+IACHIMO	And himself. Not I,
+	Inclined to this intelligence, pronounce
+	The beggary of his change; but 'tis your graces
+	That from pay mutest conscience to my tongue
+	Charms this report out.
+
+IMOGEN	Let me hear no more.
+
+IACHIMO	O dearest soul! your cause doth strike my heart
+	With pity, that doth make me sick. A lady
+	So fair, and fasten'd to an empery,
+	Would make the great'st king double,--to be partner'd
+	With tomboys hired with that self-exhibition
+	Which your own coffers yield! with diseased ventures
+	That play with all infirmities for gold
+	Which rottenness can lend nature! such boil'd stuff
+	As well might poison poison! Be revenged;
+	Or she that bore you was no queen, and you
+	Recoil from your great stock.
+
+IMOGEN	Revenged!
+	How should I be revenged? If this be true,--
+	As I have such a heart that both mine ears
+	Must not in haste abuse--if it be true,
+	How should I be revenged?
+
+IACHIMO	Should he make me
+	Live, like Diana's priest, betwixt cold sheets,
+	Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps,
+	In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it.
+	I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure,
+	More noble than that runagate to your bed,
+	And will continue fast to your affection,
+	Still close as sure.
+
+IMOGEN	What, ho, Pisanio!
+
+IACHIMO	Let me my service tender on your lips.
+
+IMOGEN	Away! I do condemn mine ears that have
+	So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable,
+	Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not
+	For such an end thou seek'st,--as base as strange.
+	Thou wrong'st a gentleman, who is as far
+	From thy report as thou from honour, and
+	Solicit'st here a lady that disdains
+	Thee and the devil alike. What ho, Pisanio!
+	The king my father shall be made acquainted
+	Of thy assault: if he shall think it fit,
+	A saucy stranger in his court to mart
+	As in a Romish stew and to expound
+	His beastly mind to us, he hath a court
+	He little cares for and a daughter who
+	He not respects at all. What, ho, Pisanio!
+
+IACHIMO	O happy Leonatus! I may say
+	The credit that thy lady hath of thee
+	Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness
+	Her assured credit. Blessed live you long!
+	A lady to the worthiest sir that ever
+	Country call'd his! and you his mistress, only
+	For the most worthiest fit! Give me your pardon.
+	I have spoke this, to know if your affiance
+	Were deeply rooted; and shall make your lord,
+	That which he is, new o'er: and he is one
+	The truest manner'd; such a holy witch
+	That he enchants societies into him;
+	Half all men's hearts are his.
+
+IMOGEN	You make amends.
+
+IACHIMO	He sits 'mongst men like a descended god:
+	He hath a kind of honour sets him off,
+	More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry,
+	Most mighty princess, that I have adventured
+	To try your taking a false report; which hath
+	Honour'd with confirmation your great judgment
+	In the election of a sir so rare,
+	Which you know cannot err: the love I bear him
+	Made me to fan you thus, but the gods made you,
+	Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray, your pardon.
+
+IMOGEN	All's well, sir: take my power i' the court
+	for yours.
+
+IACHIMO	My humble thanks. I had almost forgot
+	To entreat your grace but in a small request,
+	And yet of moment to, for it concerns
+	Your lord; myself and other noble friends,
+	Are partners in the business.
+
+IMOGEN	Pray, what is't?
+
+IACHIMO	Some dozen Romans of us and your lord--
+	The best feather of our wing--have mingled sums
+	To buy a present for the emperor
+	Which I, the factor for the rest, have done
+	In France: 'tis plate of rare device, and jewels
+	Of rich and exquisite form; their values great;
+	And I am something curious, being strange,
+	To have them in safe stowage: may it please you
+	To take them in protection?
+
+IMOGEN	Willingly;
+	And pawn mine honour for their safety: since
+	My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them
+	In my bedchamber.
+
+IACHIMO	They are in a trunk,
+	Attended by my men: I will make bold
+	To send them to you, only for this night;
+	I must aboard to-morrow.
+
+IMOGEN	O, no, no.
+
+IACHIMO	Yes, I beseech; or I shall short my word
+	By lengthening my return. From Gallia
+	I cross'd the seas on purpose and on promise
+	To see your grace.
+
+IMOGEN	I thank you for your pains:
+	But not away to-morrow!
+
+IACHIMO	O, I must, madam:
+	Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please
+	To greet your lord with writing, do't to-night:
+	I have outstood my time; which is material
+	To the tender of our present.
+
+IMOGEN	I will write.
+	Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be kept,
+	And truly yielded you. You're very welcome.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Britain. Before Cymbeline's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter CLOTEN and two Lords]
+
+CLOTEN	Was there ever man had such luck! when I kissed the
+	jack, upon an up-cast to be hit away! I had a
+	hundred pound on't: and then a whoreson jackanapes
+	must take me up for swearing; as if I borrowed mine
+	oaths of him and might not spend them at my pleasure.
+
+First Lord	What got he by that? You have broke his pate with
+	your bowl.
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  If his wit had been like him that broke it,
+	it would have run all out.
+
+CLOTEN	When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for
+	any standers-by to curtail his oaths, ha?
+
+Second Lord	No my lord;
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	nor crop the ears of them.
+
+CLOTEN	Whoreson dog! I give him satisfaction?
+	Would he had been one of my rank!
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  To have smelt like a fool.
+
+CLOTEN	I am not vexed more at any thing in the earth: a
+	pox on't! I had rather not be so noble as I am;
+	they dare not fight with me, because of the queen my
+	mother: every Jack-slave hath his bellyful of
+	fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that
+	nobody can match.
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  You are cock and capon too; and you crow,
+	cock, with your comb on.
+
+CLOTEN	Sayest thou?
+
+Second Lord	It is not fit your lordship should undertake every
+	companion that you give offence to.
+
+CLOTEN	No, I know that: but it is fit I should commit
+	offence to my inferiors.
+
+Second Lord	Ay, it is fit for your lordship only.
+
+CLOTEN	Why, so I say.
+
+First Lord	Did you hear of a stranger that's come to court to-night?
+
+CLOTEN	A stranger, and I not know on't!
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  He's a strange fellow himself, and knows it
+	not.
+
+First Lord	There's an Italian come; and, 'tis thought, one of
+	Leonatus' friends.
+
+CLOTEN	Leonatus! a banished rascal; and he's another,
+	whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger?
+
+First Lord	One of your lordship's pages.
+
+CLOTEN	Is it fit I went to look upon him? is there no
+	derogation in't?
+
+Second Lord	You cannot derogate, my lord.
+
+CLOTEN	Not easily, I think.
+
+Second Lord	[Aside]  You are a fool granted; therefore your
+	issues, being foolish, do not derogate.
+
+CLOTEN	Come, I'll go see this Italian: what I have lost
+	to-day at bowls I'll win to-night of him. Come, go.
+
+Second Lord	I'll attend your lordship.
+
+	[Exeunt CLOTEN and First Lord]
+
+	That such a crafty devil as is his mother
+	Should yield the world this ass! a woman that
+	Bears all down with her brain; and this her son
+	Cannot take two from twenty, for his heart,
+	And leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess,
+	Thou divine Imogen, what thou endurest,
+	Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern'd,
+	A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer
+	More hateful than the foul expulsion is
+	Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act
+	Of the divorce he'ld make! The heavens hold firm
+	The walls of thy dear honour, keep unshaked
+	That temple, thy fair mind, that thou mayst stand,
+	To enjoy thy banish'd lord and this great land!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Imogen's bedchamber in Cymbeline's palace:
+	a trunk in one corner of it.
+
+
+	[IMOGEN in bed, reading; a Lady attending]
+
+IMOGEN	Who's there? my woman Helen?
+
+Lady	Please you, madam
+
+IMOGEN	What hour is it?
+
+Lady	                  Almost midnight, madam.
+
+IMOGEN	I have read three hours then: mine eyes are weak:
+	Fold down the leaf where I have left: to bed:
+	Take not away the taper, leave it burning;
+	And if thou canst awake by four o' the clock,
+	I prithee, call me. Sleep hath seized me wholly
+
+	[Exit Lady]
+
+	To your protection I commend me, gods.
+	From fairies and the tempters of the night
+	Guard me, beseech ye.
+
+	[Sleeps. IACHIMO comes from the trunk]
+
+IACHIMO	The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense
+	Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus
+	Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd
+	The chastity he wounded. Cytherea,
+	How bravely thou becomest thy bed, fresh lily,
+	And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch!
+	But kiss; one kiss! Rubies unparagon'd,
+	How dearly they do't! 'Tis her breathing that
+	Perfumes the chamber thus: the flame o' the taper
+	Bows toward her, and would under-peep her lids,
+	To see the enclosed lights, now canopied
+	Under these windows, white and azure laced
+	With blue of heaven's own tinct. But my design,
+	To note the chamber: I will write all down:
+	Such and such pictures; there the window; such
+	The adornment of her bed; the arras; figures,
+	Why, such and such; and the contents o' the story.
+	Ah, but some natural notes about her body,
+	Above ten thousand meaner moveables
+	Would testify, to enrich mine inventory.
+	O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her!
+	And be her sense but as a monument,
+	Thus in a chapel lying! Come off, come off:
+
+	[Taking off her bracelet]
+
+	As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard!
+	'Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly,
+	As strongly as the conscience does within,
+	To the madding of her lord. On her left breast
+	A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops
+	I' the bottom of a cowslip: here's a voucher,
+	Stronger than ever law could make: this secret
+	Will force him think I have pick'd the lock and ta'en
+	The treasure of her honour. No more. To what end?
+	Why should I write this down, that's riveted,
+	Screw'd to my memory? She hath been reading late
+	The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down
+	Where Philomel gave up. I have enough:
+	To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
+	Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning
+	May bare the raven's eye! I lodge in fear;
+	Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here.
+
+	[Clock strikes]
+
+	One, two, three: time, time!
+
+	[Goes into the trunk. The scene closes]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	An ante-chamber adjoining Imogen's apartments.
+
+
+	[Enter CLOTEN and Lords]
+
+First Lord	Your lordship is the most patient man in loss, the
+	most coldest that ever turned up ace.
+
+CLOTEN	It would make any man cold to lose.
+
+First Lord	But not every man patient after the noble temper of
+	your lordship. You are most hot and furious when you win.
+
+CLOTEN	Winning will put any man into courage. If I could
+	get this foolish Imogen, I should have gold enough.
+	It's almost morning, is't not?
+
+First Lord	Day, my lord.
+
+CLOTEN	I would this music would come: I am advised to give
+	her music o' mornings; they say it will penetrate.
+
+	[Enter Musicians]
+
+	Come on; tune: if you can penetrate her with your
+	fingering, so; we'll try with tongue too: if none
+	will do, let her remain; but I'll never give o'er.
+	First, a very excellent good-conceited thing;
+	after, a wonderful sweet air, with admirable rich
+	words to it: and then let her consider.
+	[SONG]
+
+	Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
+	And Phoebus 'gins arise,
+	His steeds to water at those springs
+	On chaliced flowers that lies;
+	And winking Mary-buds begin
+	To ope their golden eyes:
+	With every thing that pretty is,
+	My lady sweet, arise:
+	Arise, arise.
+
+CLOTEN	So, get you gone. If this penetrate, I will
+	consider your music the better: if it do not, it is
+	a vice in her ears, which horse-hairs and
+	calves'-guts, nor the voice of unpaved eunuch to
+	boot, can never amend.
+
+	[Exeunt Musicians]
+
+Second Lord	Here comes the king.
+
+CLOTEN	I am glad I was up so late; for that's the reason I
+	was up so early: he cannot choose but take this
+	service I have done fatherly.
+
+	[Enter CYMBELINE and QUEEN]
+
+	Good morrow to your majesty and to my gracious mother.
+
+CYMBELINE	Attend you here the door of our stern daughter?
+	Will she not forth?
+
+CLOTEN	I have assailed her with music, but she vouchsafes no notice.
+
+CYMBELINE	The exile of her minion is too new;
+	She hath not yet forgot him: some more time
+	Must wear the print of his remembrance out,
+	And then she's yours.
+
+QUEEN	You are most bound to the king,
+	Who lets go by no vantages that may
+	Prefer you to his daughter. Frame yourself
+	To orderly soliciting, and be friended
+	With aptness of the season; make denials
+	Increase your services; so seem as if
+	You were inspired to do those duties which
+	You tender to her; that you in all obey her,
+	Save when command to your dismission tends,
+	And therein you are senseless.
+
+CLOTEN	Senseless! not so.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	So like you, sir, ambassadors from Rome;
+	The one is Caius Lucius.
+
+CYMBELINE	A worthy fellow,
+	Albeit he comes on angry purpose now;
+	But that's no fault of his: we must receive him
+	According to the honour of his sender;
+	And towards himself, his goodness forespent on us,
+	We must extend our notice. Our dear son,
+	When you have given good morning to your mistress,
+	Attend the queen and us; we shall have need
+	To employ you towards this Roman. Come, our queen.
+
+	[Exeunt all but CLOTEN]
+
+CLOTEN	If she be up, I'll speak with her; if not,
+	Let her lie still and dream.
+
+	[Knocks]
+
+		       By your leave, ho!
+	I Know her women are about her: what
+	If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold
+	Which buys admittance; oft it doth; yea, and makes
+	Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up
+	Their deer to the stand o' the stealer; and 'tis gold
+	Which makes the true man kill'd and saves the thief;
+	Nay, sometime hangs both thief and true man: what
+	Can it not do and undo? I will make
+	One of her women lawyer to me, for
+	I yet not understand the case myself.
+
+	[Knocks]
+
+	By your leave.
+
+	[Enter a Lady]
+
+Lady	Who's there that knocks?
+
+CLOTEN	A gentleman.
+
+Lady	No more?
+
+CLOTEN	Yes, and a gentlewoman's son.
+
+Lady	That's more
+	Than some, whose tailors are as dear as yours,
+	Can justly boast of. What's your lordship's pleasure?
+
+CLOTEN	Your lady's person: is she ready?
+
+Lady	Ay,
+	To keep her chamber.
+
+CLOTEN	There is gold for you;
+	Sell me your good report.
+
+Lady	How! my good name? or to report of you
+	What I shall think is good?--The princess!
+
+	[Enter IMOGEN]
+
+CLOTEN	Good morrow, fairest: sister, your sweet hand.
+
+	[Exit Lady]
+
+IMOGEN	Good morrow, sir. You lay out too much pains
+	For purchasing but trouble; the thanks I give
+	Is telling you that I am poor of thanks
+	And scarce can spare them.
+
+CLOTEN	Still, I swear I love you.
+
+IMOGEN	If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me:
+	If you swear still, your recompense is still
+	That I regard it not.
+
+CLOTEN	This is no answer.
+
+IMOGEN	But that you shall not say I yield being silent,
+	I would not speak. I pray you, spare me: 'faith,
+	I shall unfold equal discourtesy
+	To your best kindness: one of your great knowing
+	Should learn, being taught, forbearance.
+
+CLOTEN	To leave you in your madness, 'twere my sin:
+	I will not.
+
+IMOGEN	          Fools are not mad folks.
+
+CLOTEN	Do you call me fool?
+
+IMOGEN	As I am mad, I do:
+	If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad;
+	That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir,
+	You put me to forget a lady's manners,
+	By being so verbal: and learn now, for all,
+	That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce,
+	By the very truth of it, I care not for you,
+	And am so near the lack of charity--
+	To accuse myself--I hate you; which I had rather
+	You felt than make't my boast.
+
+CLOTEN	You sin against
+	Obedience, which you owe your father. For
+	The contract you pretend with that base wretch,
+	One bred of alms and foster'd with cold dishes,
+	With scraps o' the court, it is no contract, none:
+	And though it be allow'd in meaner parties--
+	Yet who than he more mean?--to knit their souls,
+	On whom there is no more dependency
+	But brats and beggary, in self-figured knot;
+	Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement by
+	The consequence o' the crown, and must not soil
+	The precious note of it with a base slave.
+	A hilding for a livery, a squire's cloth,
+	A pantler, not so eminent.
+
+IMOGEN	Profane fellow
+	Wert thou the son of Jupiter and no more
+	But what thou art besides, thou wert too base
+	To be his groom: thou wert dignified enough,
+	Even to the point of envy, if 'twere made
+	Comparative for your virtues, to be styled
+	The under-hangman of his kingdom, and hated
+	For being preferred so well.
+
+CLOTEN	The south-fog rot him!
+
+IMOGEN	He never can meet more mischance than come
+	To be but named of thee. His meanest garment,
+	That ever hath but clipp'd his body, is dearer
+	In my respect than all the hairs above thee,
+	Were they all made such men. How now, Pisanio!
+
+	[Enter PISANIO]
+
+CLOTEN	'His garment!' Now the devil--
+
+IMOGEN	To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently--
+
+CLOTEN	'His garment!'
+
+IMOGEN	                  I am sprited with a fool.
+	Frighted, and anger'd worse: go bid my woman
+	Search for a jewel that too casually
+	Hath left mine arm: it was thy master's: 'shrew me,
+	If I would lose it for a revenue
+	Of any king's in Europe. I do think
+	I saw't this morning: confident I am
+	Last night 'twas on mine arm; I kiss'd it:
+	I hope it be not gone to tell my lord
+	That I kiss aught but he.
+
+PISANIO	'Twill not be lost.
+
+IMOGEN	I hope so: go and search.
+
+	[Exit PISANIO]
+
+CLOTEN	You have abused me:
+	'His meanest garment!'
+
+IMOGEN	Ay, I said so, sir:
+	If you will make't an action, call witness to't.
+
+CLOTEN	I will inform your father.
+
+IMOGEN	Your mother too:
+	She's my good lady, and will conceive, I hope,
+	But the worst of me. So, I leave you, sir,
+	To the worst of discontent.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CLOTEN	I'll be revenged:
+	'His meanest garment!' Well.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Rome. Philario's house.
+
+
+	[Enter POSTHUMUS and PHILARIO]
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Fear it not, sir: I would I were so sure
+	To win the king as I am bold her honour
+	Will remain hers.
+
+PHILARIO	                  What means do you make to him?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Not any, but abide the change of time,
+	Quake in the present winter's state and wish
+	That warmer days would come: in these sear'd hopes,
+	I barely gratify your love; they failing,
+	I must die much your debtor.
+
+PHILARIO	Your very goodness and your company
+	O'erpays all I can do. By this, your king
+	Hath heard of great Augustus: Caius Lucius
+	Will do's commission throughly: and I think
+	He'll grant the tribute, send the arrearages,
+	Or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance
+	Is yet fresh in their grief.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	I do believe,
+	Statist though I am none, nor like to be,
+	That this will prove a war; and you shall hear
+	The legions now in Gallia sooner landed
+	In our not-fearing Britain than have tidings
+	Of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen
+	Are men more order'd than when Julius Caesar
+	Smiled at their lack of skill, but found
+	their courage
+	Worthy his frowning at: their discipline,
+	Now mingled with their courages, will make known
+	To their approvers they are people such
+	That mend upon the world.
+
+	[Enter IACHIMO]
+
+PHILARIO	See! Iachimo!
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	The swiftest harts have posted you by land;
+	And winds of all the comers kiss'd your sails,
+	To make your vessel nimble.
+
+PHILARIO	Welcome, sir.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	I hope the briefness of your answer made
+	The speediness of your return.
+
+IACHIMO	Your lady
+	Is one of the fairest that I have look'd upon.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	And therewithal the best; or let her beauty
+	Look through a casement to allure false hearts
+	And be false with them.
+
+IACHIMO	Here are letters for you.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Their tenor good, I trust.
+
+IACHIMO	'Tis very like.
+
+PHILARIO	Was Caius Lucius in the Britain court
+	When you were there?
+
+IACHIMO	He was expected then,
+	But not approach'd.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	All is well yet.
+	Sparkles this stone as it was wont? or is't not
+	Too dull for your good wearing?
+
+IACHIMO	If I had lost it,
+	I should have lost the worth of it in gold.
+	I'll make a journey twice as far, to enjoy
+	A second night of such sweet shortness which
+	Was mine in Britain, for the ring is won.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	The stone's too hard to come by.
+
+IACHIMO	Not a whit,
+	Your lady being so easy.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Make not, sir,
+	Your loss your sport: I hope you know that we
+	Must not continue friends.
+
+IACHIMO	Good sir, we must,
+	If you keep covenant. Had I not brought
+	The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant
+	We were to question further: but I now
+	Profess myself the winner of her honour,
+	Together with your ring; and not the wronger
+	Of her or you, having proceeded but
+	By both your wills.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	If you can make't apparent
+	That you have tasted her in bed, my hand
+	And ring is yours; if not, the foul opinion
+	You had of her pure honour gains or loses
+	Your sword or mine, or masterless leaves both
+	To who shall find them.
+
+IACHIMO	Sir, my circumstances,
+	Being so near the truth as I will make them,
+	Must first induce you to believe: whose strength
+	I will confirm with oath; which, I doubt not,
+	You'll give me leave to spare, when you shall find
+	You need it not.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	                  Proceed.
+
+IACHIMO	First, her bedchamber,--
+	Where, I confess, I slept not, but profess
+	Had that was well worth watching--it was hang'd
+	With tapesty of silk and silver; the story
+	Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman,
+	And Cydnus swell'd above the banks, or for
+	The press of boats or pride: a piece of work
+	So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive
+	In workmanship and value; which I wonder'd
+	Could be so rarely and exactly wrought,
+	Since the true life on't was--
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	This is true;
+	And this you might have heard of here, by me,
+	Or by some other.
+
+IACHIMO	More particulars
+	Must justify my knowledge.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	So they must,
+	Or do your honour injury.
+
+IACHIMO	The chimney
+	Is south the chamber, and the chimney-piece
+	Chaste Dian bathing: never saw I figures
+	So likely to report themselves: the cutter
+	Was as another nature, dumb; outwent her,
+	Motion and breath left out.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	This is a thing
+	Which you might from relation likewise reap,
+	Being, as it is, much spoke of.
+
+IACHIMO	The roof o' the chamber
+	With golden cherubins is fretted: her andirons--
+	I had forgot them--were two winking Cupids
+	Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely
+	Depending on their brands.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	This is her honour!
+	Let it be granted you have seen all this--and praise
+	Be given to your remembrance--the description
+	Of what is in her chamber nothing saves
+	The wager you have laid.
+
+IACHIMO	Then, if you can,
+
+	[Showing the bracelet]
+
+	Be pale: I beg but leave to air this jewel; see!
+	And now 'tis up again: it must be married
+	To that your diamond; I'll keep them.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Jove!
+	Once more let me behold it: is it that
+	Which I left with her?
+
+IACHIMO	Sir--I thank her--that:
+	She stripp'd it from her arm; I see her yet;
+	Her pretty action did outsell her gift,
+	And yet enrich'd it too: she gave it me, and said
+	She prized it once.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	May be she pluck'd it off
+	To send it me.
+
+IACHIMO	She writes so to you, doth she?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	O, no, no, no! 'tis true. Here, take this too;
+
+	[Gives the ring]
+
+	It is a basilisk unto mine eye,
+	Kills me to look on't. Let there be no honour
+	Where there is beauty; truth, where semblance; love,
+	Where there's another man: the vows of women
+	Of no more bondage be, to where they are made,
+	Than they are to their virtues; which is nothing.
+	O, above measure false!
+
+PHILARIO	Have patience, sir,
+	And take your ring again; 'tis not yet won:
+	It may be probable she lost it; or
+	Who knows if one of her women, being corrupted,
+	Hath stol'n it from her?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Very true;
+	And so, I hope, he came by't. Back my ring:
+	Render to me some corporal sign about her,
+	More evident than this; for this was stolen.
+
+IACHIMO	By Jupiter, I had it from her arm.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Hark you, he swears; by Jupiter he swears.
+	'Tis true:--nay, keep the ring--'tis true: I am sure
+	She would not lose it: her attendants are
+	All sworn and honourable:--they induced to steal it!
+	And by a stranger!--No, he hath enjoyed her:
+	The cognizance of her incontinency
+	Is this: she hath bought the name of whore
+	thus dearly.
+	There, take thy hire; and all the fiends of hell
+	Divide themselves between you!
+
+PHILARIO	Sir, be patient:
+	This is not strong enough to be believed
+	Of one persuaded well of--
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Never talk on't;
+	She hath been colted by him.
+
+IACHIMO	If you seek
+	For further satisfying, under her breast--
+	Worthy the pressing--lies a mole, right proud
+	Of that most delicate lodging: by my life,
+	I kiss'd it; and it gave me present hunger
+	To feed again, though full. You do remember
+	This stain upon her?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Ay, and it doth confirm
+	Another stain, as big as hell can hold,
+	Were there no more but it.
+
+IACHIMO	Will you hear more?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Spare your arithmetic: never count the turns;
+	Once, and a million!
+
+IACHIMO	I'll be sworn--
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	No swearing.
+	If you will swear you have not done't, you lie;
+	And I will kill thee, if thou dost deny
+	Thou'st made me cuckold.
+
+IACHIMO	I'll deny nothing.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	O, that I had her here, to tear her limb-meal!
+	I will go there and do't, i' the court, before
+	Her father. I'll do something--
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PHILARIO	Quite besides
+	The government of patience! You have won:
+	Let's follow him, and pervert the present wrath
+	He hath against himself.
+
+IACHIMO	With an my heart.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another room in Philario's house.
+
+
+	[Enter POSTHUMUS LEONATUS]
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Is there no way for men to be but women
+	Must be half-workers? We are all bastards;
+	And that most venerable man which I
+	Did call my father, was I know not where
+	When I was stamp'd; some coiner with his tools
+	Made me a counterfeit: yet my mother seem'd
+	The Dian of that time so doth my wife
+	The nonpareil of this. O, vengeance, vengeance!
+	Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd
+	And pray'd me oft forbearance; did it with
+	A pudency so rosy the sweet view on't
+	Might well have warm'd old Saturn; that I thought her
+	As chaste as unsunn'd snow. O, all the devils!
+	This yellow Iachimo, in an hour,--wast not?--
+	Or less,--at first?--perchance he spoke not, but,
+	Like a full-acorn'd boar, a German one,
+	Cried 'O!' and mounted; found no opposition
+	But what he look'd for should oppose and she
+	Should from encounter guard. Could I find out
+	The woman's part in me! For there's no motion
+	That tends to vice in man, but I affirm
+	It is the woman's part: be it lying, note it,
+	The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
+	Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, hers;
+	Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
+	Nice longing, slanders, mutability,
+	All faults that may be named, nay, that hell knows,
+	Why, hers, in part or all; but rather, all;
+	For even to vice
+	They are not constant but are changing still
+	One vice, but of a minute old, for one
+	Not half so old as that. I'll write against them,
+	Detest them, curse them: yet 'tis greater skill
+	In a true hate, to pray they have their will:
+	The very devils cannot plague them better.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Britain. A hall in Cymbeline's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter in state, CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN,
+	and Lords at one door, and at another,
+	CAIUS LUCIUS and Attendants]
+
+CYMBELINE	Now say, what would Augustus Caesar with us?
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	When Julius Caesar, whose remembrance yet
+	Lives in men's eyes and will to ears and tongues
+	Be theme and hearing ever, was in this Britain
+	And conquer'd it, Cassibelan, thine uncle,--
+	Famous in Caesar's praises, no whit less
+	Than in his feats deserving it--for him
+	And his succession granted Rome a tribute,
+	Yearly three thousand pounds, which by thee lately
+	Is left untender'd.
+
+QUEEN	And, to kill the marvel,
+	Shall be so ever.
+
+CLOTEN	There be many Caesars,
+	Ere such another Julius. Britain is
+	A world by itself; and we will nothing pay
+	For wearing our own noses.
+
+QUEEN	That opportunity
+	Which then they had to take from 's, to resume
+	We have again. Remember, sir, my liege,
+	The kings your ancestors, together with
+	The natural bravery of your isle, which stands
+	As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in
+	With rocks unscalable and roaring waters,
+	With sands that will not bear your enemies' boats,
+	But suck them up to the topmast. A kind of conquest
+	Caesar made here; but made not here his brag
+	Of 'Came' and 'saw' and 'overcame: ' with shame--
+	That first that ever touch'd him--he was carried
+	From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping--
+	Poor ignorant baubles!-- upon our terrible seas,
+	Like egg-shells moved upon their surges, crack'd
+	As easily 'gainst our rocks: for joy whereof
+	The famed Cassibelan, who was once at point--
+	O giglot fortune!--to master Caesar's sword,
+	Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright
+	And Britons strut with courage.
+
+CLOTEN	Come, there's no more tribute to be paid: our
+	kingdom is stronger than it was at that time; and,
+	as I said, there is no moe such Caesars: other of
+	them may have crook'd noses, but to owe such
+	straight arms, none.
+
+CYMBELINE	Son, let your mother end.
+
+CLOTEN	We have yet many among us can gripe as hard as
+	Cassibelan: I do not say I am one; but I have a
+	hand. Why tribute? why should we pay tribute? If
+	Caesar can hide the sun from us with a blanket, or
+	put the moon in his pocket, we will pay him tribute
+	for light; else, sir, no more tribute, pray you now.
+
+CYMBELINE	You must know,
+	Till the injurious Romans did extort
+	This tribute from us, we were free:
+	Caesar's ambition,
+	Which swell'd so much that it did almost stretch
+	The sides o' the world, against all colour here
+	Did put the yoke upon 's; which to shake off
+	Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon
+	Ourselves to be.
+
+CLOTEN	|
+	|                We do.
+Lords	|
+
+CYMBELINE	Say, then, to Caesar,
+	Our ancestor was that Mulmutius which
+	Ordain'd our laws, whose use the sword of Caesar
+	Hath too much mangled; whose repair and franchise
+	Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed,
+	Though Rome be therefore angry: Mulmutius made our laws,
+	Who was the first of Britain which did put
+	His brows within a golden crown and call'd
+	Himself a king.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	                  I am sorry, Cymbeline,
+	That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar--
+	Caesar, that hath more kings his servants than
+	Thyself domestic officers--thine enemy:
+	Receive it from me, then: war and confusion
+	In Caesar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee: look
+	For fury not to be resisted. Thus defied,
+	I thank thee for myself.
+
+CYMBELINE	Thou art welcome, Caius.
+	Thy Caesar knighted me; my youth I spent
+	Much under him; of him I gather'd honour;
+	Which he to seek of me again, perforce,
+	Behoves me keep at utterance. I am perfect
+	That the Pannonians and Dalmatians for
+	Their liberties are now in arms; a precedent
+	Which not to read would show the Britons cold:
+	So Caesar shall not find them.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Let proof speak.
+
+CLOTEN	His majesty bids you welcome. Make
+	pastime with us a day or two, or longer: if
+	you seek us afterwards in other terms, you
+	shall find us in our salt-water girdle: if you
+	beat us out of it, it is yours; if you fall in
+	the adventure, our crows shall fare the better
+	for you; and there's an end.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	So, sir.
+
+CYMBELINE	I know your master's pleasure and he mine:
+	All the remain is 'Welcome!'
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Another room in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter PISANIO, with a letter]
+
+PISANIO	How? of adultery? Wherefore write you not
+	What monster's her accuser? Leonatus,
+	O master! what a strange infection
+	Is fall'n into thy ear! What false Italian,
+	As poisonous-tongued as handed, hath prevail'd
+	On thy too ready hearing? Disloyal! No:
+	She's punish'd for her truth, and undergoes,
+	More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults
+	As would take in some virtue. O my master!
+	Thy mind to her is now as low as were
+	Thy fortunes. How! that I should murder her?
+	Upon the love and truth and vows which I
+	Have made to thy command? I, her? her blood?
+	If it be so to do good service, never
+	Let me be counted serviceable. How look I,
+	That I should seem to lack humanity
+	so much as this fact comes to?
+
+	[Reading]
+
+		'Do't: the letter
+	that I have sent her, by her own command
+	Shall give thee opportunity.' O damn'd paper!
+	Black as the ink that's on thee! Senseless bauble,
+	Art thou a feodary for this act, and look'st
+	So virgin-like without? Lo, here she comes.
+	I am ignorant in what I am commanded.
+
+	[Enter IMOGEN]
+
+IMOGEN	How now, Pisanio!
+
+PISANIO	Madam, here is a letter from my lord.
+
+IMOGEN	Who? thy lord? that is my lord, Leonatus!
+	O, learn'd indeed were that astronomer
+	That knew the stars as I his characters;
+	He'ld lay the future open. You good gods,
+	Let what is here contain'd relish of love,
+	Of my lord's health, of his content, yet not
+	That we two are asunder; let that grieve him:
+	Some griefs are med'cinable; that is one of them,
+	For it doth physic love: of his content,
+	All but in that! Good wax, thy leave. Blest be
+	You bees that make these locks of counsel! Lovers
+	And men in dangerous bonds pray not alike:
+	Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet
+	You clasp young Cupid's tables. Good news, gods!
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'Justice, and your father's wrath, should he take me
+	in his dominion, could not be so cruel to me, as
+	you, O the dearest of creatures, would even renew me
+	with your eyes. Take notice that I am in Cambria,
+	at Milford-Haven: what your own love will out of
+	this advise you, follow. So he wishes you all
+	happiness, that remains loyal to his vow, and your,
+	increasing in love,
+		        LEONATUS POSTHUMUS.'
+	O, for a horse with wings! Hear'st thou, Pisanio?
+	He is at Milford-Haven: read, and tell me
+	How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs
+	May plod it in a week, why may not I
+	Glide thither in a day? Then, true Pisanio,--
+	Who long'st, like me, to see thy lord; who long'st,--
+	let me bate,-but not like me--yet long'st,
+	But in a fainter kind:--O, not like me;
+	For mine's beyond beyond--say, and speak thick;
+	Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing,
+	To the smothering of the sense--how far it is
+	To this same blessed Milford: and by the way
+	Tell me how Wales was made so happy as
+	To inherit such a haven: but first of all,
+	How we may steal from hence, and for the gap
+	That we shall make in time, from our hence-going
+	And our return, to excuse: but first, how get hence:
+	Why should excuse be born or e'er begot?
+	We'll talk of that hereafter. Prithee, speak,
+	How many score of miles may we well ride
+	'Twixt hour and hour?
+
+PISANIO	One score 'twixt sun and sun,
+	Madam, 's enough for you:
+
+	[Aside]
+
+		     and too much too.
+
+IMOGEN	Why, one that rode to's execution, man,
+	Could never go so slow: I have heard of
+	riding wagers,
+	Where horses have been nimbler than the sands
+	That run i' the clock's behalf. But this is foolery:
+	Go bid my woman feign a sickness; say
+	She'll home to her father: and provide me presently
+	A riding-suit, no costlier than would fit
+	A franklin's housewife.
+
+PISANIO	Madam, you're best consider.
+
+IMOGEN	I see before me, man: nor here, nor here,
+	Nor what ensues, but have a fog in them,
+	That I cannot look through. Away, I prithee;
+	Do as I bid thee: there's no more to say,
+	Accessible is none but Milford way.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Wales: a mountainous country with a cave.
+
+
+	[Enter, from the cave, BELARIUS; GUIDERIUS,
+	and ARVIRAGUS following]
+
+BELARIUS	A goodly day not to keep house, with such
+	Whose roof's as low as ours! Stoop, boys; this gate
+	Instructs you how to adore the heavens and bows you
+	To a morning's holy office: the gates of monarchs
+	Are arch'd so high that giants may jet through
+	And keep their impious turbans on, without
+	Good morrow to the sun. Hail, thou fair heaven!
+	We house i' the rock, yet use thee not so hardly
+	As prouder livers do.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Hail, heaven!
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Hail, heaven!
+
+BELARIUS	Now for our mountain sport: up to yond hill;
+	Your legs are young; I'll tread these flats. Consider,
+	When you above perceive me like a crow,
+	That it is place which lessens and sets off;
+	And you may then revolve what tales I have told you
+	Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war:
+	This service is not service, so being done,
+	But being so allow'd: to apprehend thus,
+	Draws us a profit from all things we see;
+	And often, to our comfort, shall we find
+	The sharded beetle in a safer hold
+	Than is the full-wing'd eagle. O, this life
+	Is nobler than attending for a cheque,
+	Richer than doing nothing for a bauble,
+	Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk:
+	Such gain the cap of him that makes 'em fine,
+	Yet keeps his book uncross'd: no life to ours.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Out of your proof you speak: we, poor unfledged,
+	Have never wing'd from view o' the nest, nor know not
+	What air's from home. Haply this life is best,
+	If quiet life be best; sweeter to you
+	That have a sharper known; well corresponding
+	With your stiff age: but unto us it is
+	A cell of ignorance; travelling a-bed;
+	A prison for a debtor, that not dares
+	To stride a limit.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	                  What should we speak of
+	When we are old as you? when we shall hear
+	The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
+	In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
+	The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing;
+	We are beastly, subtle as the fox for prey,
+	Like warlike as the wolf for what we eat;
+	Our valour is to chase what flies; our cage
+	We make a quire, as doth the prison'd bird,
+	And sing our bondage freely.
+
+BELARIUS	How you speak!
+	Did you but know the city's usuries
+	And felt them knowingly; the art o' the court
+	As hard to leave as keep; whose top to climb
+	Is certain falling, or so slippery that
+	The fear's as bad as falling; the toil o' the war,
+	A pain that only seems to seek out danger
+	I' the name of fame and honour; which dies i'
+	the search,
+	And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph
+	As record of fair act; nay, many times,
+	Doth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse,
+	Must court'sy at the censure:--O boys, this story
+	The world may read in me: my body's mark'd
+	With Roman swords, and my report was once
+	First with the best of note: Cymbeline loved me,
+	And when a soldier was the theme, my name
+	Was not far off: then was I as a tree
+	Whose boughs did bend with fruit: but in one night,
+	A storm or robbery, call it what you will,
+	Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves,
+	And left me bare to weather.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Uncertain favour!
+
+BELARIUS	My fault being nothing--as I have told you oft--
+	But that two villains, whose false oaths prevail'd
+	Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline
+	I was confederate with the Romans: so
+	Follow'd my banishment, and this twenty years
+	This rock and these demesnes have been my world;
+	Where I have lived at honest freedom, paid
+	More pious debts to heaven than in all
+	The fore-end of my time. But up to the mountains!
+	This is not hunters' language: he that strikes
+	The venison first shall be the lord o' the feast;
+	To him the other two shall minister;
+	And we will fear no poison, which attends
+	In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the valleys.
+
+	[Exeunt GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS]
+
+	How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature!
+	These boys know little they are sons to the king;
+	Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive.
+	They think they are mine; and though train'd
+	up thus meanly
+	I' the cave wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit
+	The roofs of palaces, and nature prompts them
+	In simple and low things to prince it much
+	Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore,
+	The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, who
+	The king his father call'd Guiderius,--Jove!
+	When on my three-foot stool I sit and tell
+	The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out
+	Into my story: say 'Thus, mine enemy fell,
+	And thus I set my foot on 's neck;' even then
+	The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
+	Strains his young nerves and puts himself in posture
+	That acts my words. The younger brother, Cadwal,
+	Once Arviragus, in as like a figure,
+	Strikes life into my speech and shows much more
+	His own conceiving.--Hark, the game is roused!
+	O Cymbeline! heaven and my conscience knows
+	Thou didst unjustly banish me: whereon,
+	At three and two years old, I stole these babes;
+	Thinking to bar thee of succession, as
+	Thou reft'st me of my lands. Euriphile,
+	Thou wast their nurse; they took thee for
+	their mother,
+	And every day do honour to her grave:
+	Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan call'd,
+	They take for natural father. The game is up.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Country near Milford-Haven.
+
+
+	[Enter PISANIO and IMOGEN]
+
+IMOGEN	Thou told'st me, when we came from horse, the place
+	Was near at hand: ne'er long'd my mother so
+	To see me first, as I have now. Pisanio! man!
+	Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind,
+	That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that sigh
+	From the inward of thee? One, but painted thus,
+	Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd
+	Beyond self-explication: put thyself
+	Into a havior of less fear, ere wildness
+	Vanquish my staider senses. What's the matter?
+	Why tender'st thou that paper to me, with
+	A look untender? If't be summer news,
+	Smile to't before; if winterly, thou need'st
+	But keep that countenance still. My husband's hand!
+	That drug-damn'd Italy hath out-craftied him,
+	And he's at some hard point. Speak, man: thy tongue
+	May take off some extremity, which to read
+	Would be even mortal to me.
+
+PISANIO	Please you, read;
+	And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
+	The most disdain'd of fortune.
+
+IMOGEN	[Reads]  'Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the
+	strumpet in my bed; the testimonies whereof lie
+	bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises,
+	but from proof as strong as my grief and as certain
+	as I expect my revenge. That part thou, Pisanio,
+	must act for me, if thy faith be not tainted with
+	the breach of hers. Let thine own hands take away
+	her life: I shall give thee opportunity at
+	Milford-Haven. She hath my letter for the purpose
+	where, if thou fear to strike and to make me certain
+	it is done, thou art the pandar to her dishonour and
+	equally to me disloyal.'
+
+PISANIO	What shall I need to draw my sword? the paper
+	Hath cut her throat already. No, 'tis slander,
+	Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
+	Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
+	Rides on the posting winds and doth belie
+	All corners of the world: kings, queens and states,
+	Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
+	This viperous slander enters. What cheer, madam?
+
+IMOGEN	False to his bed! What is it to be false?
+	To lie in watch there and to think on him?
+	To weep 'twixt clock and clock? if sleep
+	charge nature,
+	To break it with a fearful dream of him
+	And cry myself awake? that's false to's bed, is it?
+
+PISANIO	Alas, good lady!
+
+IMOGEN	I false! Thy conscience witness: Iachimo,
+	Thou didst accuse him of incontinency;
+	Thou then look'dst like a villain; now methinks
+	Thy favour's good enough. Some jay of Italy
+	Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd him:
+	Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion;
+	And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls,
+	I must be ripp'd:--to pieces with me!--O,
+	Men's vows are women's traitors! All good seeming,
+	By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
+	Put on for villany; not born where't grows,
+	But worn a bait for ladies.
+
+PISANIO	Good madam, hear me.
+
+IMOGEN	True honest men being heard, like false Aeneas,
+	Were in his time thought false, and Sinon's weeping
+	Did scandal many a holy tear, took pity
+	From most true wretchedness: so thou, Posthumus,
+	Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men;
+	Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjured
+	From thy great fall. Come, fellow, be thou honest:
+	Do thou thy master's bidding: when thou see'st him,
+	A little witness my obedience: look!
+	I draw the sword myself: take it, and hit
+	The innocent mansion of my love, my heart;
+	Fear not; 'tis empty of all things but grief;
+	Thy master is not there, who was indeed
+	The riches of it: do his bidding; strike
+	Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause;
+	But now thou seem'st a coward.
+
+PISANIO	Hence, vile instrument!
+	Thou shalt not damn my hand.
+
+IMOGEN	Why, I must die;
+	And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
+	No servant of thy master's. Against self-slaughter
+	There is a prohibition so divine
+	That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my heart.
+	Something's afore't. Soft, soft! we'll no defence;
+	Obedient as the scabbard. What is here?
+	The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,
+	All turn'd to heresy? Away, away,
+	Corrupters of my faith! you shall no more
+	Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools
+	Believe false teachers: though those that
+	are betray'd
+	Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
+	Stands in worse case of woe.
+	And thou, Posthumus, thou that didst set up
+	My disobedience 'gainst the king my father
+	And make me put into contempt the suits
+	Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
+	It is no act of common passage, but
+	A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself
+	To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her
+	That now thou tirest on, how thy memory
+	Will then be pang'd by me. Prithee, dispatch:
+	The lamb entreats the butcher: where's thy knife?
+	Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding,
+	When I desire it too.
+
+PISANIO	O gracious lady,
+	Since I received command to do this business
+	I have not slept one wink.
+
+IMOGEN	Do't, and to bed then.
+
+PISANIO	I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first.
+
+IMOGEN	Wherefore then
+	Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused
+	So many miles with a pretence? this place?
+	Mine action and thine own? our horses' labour?
+	The time inviting thee? the perturb'd court,
+	For my being absent? whereunto I never
+	Purpose return. Why hast thou gone so far,
+	To be unbent when thou hast ta'en thy stand,
+	The elected deer before thee?
+
+PISANIO	But to win time
+	To lose so bad employment; in the which
+	I have consider'd of a course. Good lady,
+	Hear me with patience.
+
+IMOGEN	Talk thy tongue weary; speak
+	I have heard I am a strumpet; and mine ear
+	Therein false struck, can take no greater wound,
+	Nor tent to bottom that. But speak.
+
+PISANIO	Then, madam,
+	I thought you would not back again.
+
+IMOGEN	Most like;
+	Bringing me here to kill me.
+
+PISANIO	Not so, neither:
+	But if I were as wise as honest, then
+	My purpose would prove well. It cannot be
+	But that my master is abused:
+	Some villain, ay, and singular in his art.
+	Hath done you both this cursed injury.
+
+IMOGEN	Some Roman courtezan.
+
+PISANIO	No, on my life.
+	I'll give but notice you are dead and send him
+	Some bloody sign of it; for 'tis commanded
+	I should do so: you shall be miss'd at court,
+	And that will well confirm it.
+
+IMOGEN	Why good fellow,
+	What shall I do the where? where bide? how live?
+	Or in my life what comfort, when I am
+	Dead to my husband?
+
+PISANIO	If you'll back to the court--
+
+IMOGEN	No court, no father; nor no more ado
+	With that harsh, noble, simple nothing,
+	That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me
+	As fearful as a siege.
+
+PISANIO	If not at court,
+	Then not in Britain must you bide.
+
+IMOGEN	Where then
+	Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night,
+	Are they not but in Britain? I' the world's volume
+	Our Britain seems as of it, but not in 't;
+	In a great pool a swan's nest: prithee, think
+	There's livers out of Britain.
+
+PISANIO	I am most glad
+	You think of other place. The ambassador,
+	Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven
+	To-morrow: now, if you could wear a mind
+	Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
+	That which, to appear itself, must not yet be
+	But by self-danger, you should tread a course
+	Pretty and full of view; yea, haply, near
+	The residence of Posthumus; so nigh at least
+	That though his actions were not visible, yet
+	Report should render him hourly to your ear
+	As truly as he moves.
+
+IMOGEN	O, for such means!
+	Though peril to my modesty, not death on't,
+	I would adventure.
+
+PISANIO	Well, then, here's the point:
+	You must forget to be a woman; change
+	Command into obedience: fear and niceness--
+	The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
+	Woman its pretty self--into a waggish courage:
+	Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy and
+	As quarrelous as the weasel; nay, you must
+	Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
+	Exposing it--but, O, the harder heart!
+	Alack, no remedy!--to the greedy touch
+	Of common-kissing Titan, and forget
+	Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein
+	You made great Juno angry.
+
+IMOGEN	Nay, be brief
+	I see into thy end, and am almost
+	A man already.
+
+PISANIO	First, make yourself but like one.
+	Fore-thinking this, I have already fit--
+	'Tis in my cloak-bag--doublet, hat, hose, all
+	That answer to them: would you in their serving,
+	And with what imitation you can borrow
+	From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius
+	Present yourself, desire his service, tell him
+	wherein you're happy,--which you'll make him know,
+	If that his head have ear in music,--doubtless
+	With joy he will embrace you, for he's honourable
+	And doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad,
+	You have me, rich; and I will never fail
+	Beginning nor supplyment.
+
+IMOGEN	Thou art all the comfort
+	The gods will diet me with. Prithee, away:
+	There's more to be consider'd; but we'll even
+	All that good time will give us: this attempt
+	I am soldier to, and will abide it with
+	A prince's courage. Away, I prithee.
+
+PISANIO	Well, madam, we must take a short farewell,
+	Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of
+	Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,
+	Here is a box; I had it from the queen:
+	What's in't is precious; if you are sick at sea,
+	Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
+	Will drive away distemper. To some shade,
+	And fit you to your manhood. May the gods
+	Direct you to the best!
+
+IMOGEN	Amen: I thank thee.
+
+	[Exeunt, severally]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	A room in Cymbeline's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, LUCIUS,
+	Lords, and Attendants]
+
+CYMBELINE	Thus far; and so farewell.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Thanks, royal sir.
+	My emperor hath wrote, I must from hence;
+	And am right sorry that I must report ye
+	My master's enemy.
+
+CYMBELINE	                  Our subjects, sir,
+	Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself
+	To show less sovereignty than they, must needs
+	Appear unkinglike.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	                  So, sir: I desire of you
+	A conduct over-land to Milford-Haven.
+	Madam, all joy befal your grace!
+
+QUEEN	And you!
+
+CYMBELINE	My lords, you are appointed for that office;
+	The due of honour in no point omit.
+	So farewell, noble Lucius.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Your hand, my lord.
+
+CLOTEN	Receive it friendly; but from this time forth
+	I wear it as your enemy.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Sir, the event
+	Is yet to name the winner: fare you well.
+
+CYMBELINE	Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords,
+	Till he have cross'd the Severn. Happiness!
+
+	[Exeunt LUCIUS and Lords]
+
+QUEEN	He goes hence frowning: but it honours us
+	That we have given him cause.
+
+CLOTEN	'Tis all the better;
+	Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.
+
+CYMBELINE	Lucius hath wrote already to the emperor
+	How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely
+	Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness:
+	The powers that he already hath in Gallia
+	Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves
+	His war for Britain.
+
+QUEEN	'Tis not sleepy business;
+	But must be look'd to speedily and strongly.
+
+CYMBELINE	Our expectation that it would be thus
+	Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen,
+	Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd
+	Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd
+	The duty of the day: she looks us like
+	A thing more made of malice than of duty:
+	We have noted it. Call her before us; for
+	We have been too slight in sufferance.
+
+	[Exit an Attendant]
+
+QUEEN	Royal sir,
+	Since the exile of Posthumus, most retired
+	Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my lord,
+	'Tis time must do. Beseech your majesty,
+	Forbear sharp speeches to her: she's a lady
+	So tender of rebukes that words are strokes
+	And strokes death to her.
+
+	[Re-enter Attendant]
+
+CYMBELINE	Where is she, sir? How
+	Can her contempt be answer'd?
+
+Attendant	Please you, sir,
+	Her chambers are all lock'd; and there's no answer
+	That will be given to the loudest noise we make.
+
+QUEEN	My lord, when last I went to visit her,
+	She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close,
+	Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity,
+	She should that duty leave unpaid to you,
+	Which daily she was bound to proffer: this
+	She wish'd me to make known; but our great court
+	Made me to blame in memory.
+
+CYMBELINE	Her doors lock'd?
+	Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that which I fear
+	Prove false!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+QUEEN	Son, I say, follow the king.
+
+CLOTEN	That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant,
+	have not seen these two days.
+
+QUEEN	Go, look after.
+
+	[Exit CLOTEN]
+
+	Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus!
+	He hath a drug of mine; I pray his absence
+	Proceed by swallowing that, for he believes
+	It is a thing most precious. But for her,
+	Where is she gone? Haply, despair hath seized her,
+	Or, wing'd with fervor of her love, she's flown
+	To her desired Posthumus: gone she is
+	To death or to dishonour; and my end
+	Can make good use of either: she being down,
+	I have the placing of the British crown.
+
+	[Re-enter CLOTEN]
+
+	How now, my son!
+
+CLOTEN	'Tis certain she is fled.
+	Go in and cheer the king: he rages; none
+	Dare come about him.
+
+QUEEN	[Aside]            All the better: may
+	This night forestall him of the coming day!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CLOTEN	I love and hate her: for she's fair and royal,
+	And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite
+	Than lady, ladies, woman; from every one
+	The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
+	Outsells them all; I love her therefore: but
+	Disdaining me and throwing favours on
+	The low Posthumus slanders so her judgment
+	That what's else rare is choked; and in that point
+	I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed,
+	To be revenged upon her. For when fools Shall--
+
+	[Enter PISANIO]
+
+	Who is here? What, are you packing, sirrah?
+	Come hither: ah, you precious pander! Villain,
+	Where is thy lady? In a word; or else
+	Thou art straightway with the fiends.
+
+PISANIO	O, good my lord!
+
+CLOTEN	Where is thy lady? Or, by Jupiter,--
+	I will not ask again. Close villain,
+	I'll have this secret from thy heart, or rip
+	Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus?
+	From whose so many weights of baseness cannot
+	A dram of worth be drawn.
+
+PISANIO	Alas, my lord,
+	How can she be with him? When was she missed?
+	He is in Rome.
+
+CLOTEN	                  Where is she, sir? Come nearer;
+	No further halting: satisfy me home
+	What is become of her.
+
+PISANIO	O, my all-worthy lord!
+
+CLOTEN	All-worthy villain!
+	Discover where thy mistress is at once,
+	At the next word: no more of 'worthy lord!'
+	Speak, or thy silence on the instant is
+	Thy condemnation and thy death.
+
+PISANIO	Then, sir,
+	This paper is the history of my knowledge
+	Touching her flight.
+
+	[Presenting a letter]
+
+CLOTEN	Let's see't. I will pursue her
+	Even to Augustus' throne.
+
+PISANIO	[Aside]                 Or this, or perish.
+	She's far enough; and what he learns by this
+	May prove his travel, not her danger.
+
+CLOTEN	Hum!
+
+PISANIO	[Aside]  I'll write to my lord she's dead. O Imogen,
+	Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again!
+
+CLOTEN	Sirrah, is this letter true?
+
+PISANIO	Sir, as I think.
+
+CLOTEN	It is Posthumus' hand; I know't. Sirrah, if thou
+	wouldst not be a villain, but do me true service,
+	undergo those employments wherein I should have
+	cause to use thee with a serious industry, that is,
+	what villany soe'er I bid thee do, to perform it
+	directly and truly, I would think thee an honest
+	man: thou shouldst neither want my means for thy
+	relief nor my voice for thy preferment.
+
+PISANIO	Well, my good lord.
+
+CLOTEN	Wilt thou serve me? for since patiently and
+	constantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune of
+	that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not, in the
+	course of gratitude, but be a diligent follower of
+	mine: wilt thou serve me?
+
+PISANIO	Sir, I will.
+
+CLOTEN	Give me thy hand; here's my purse. Hast any of thy
+	late master's garments in thy possession?
+
+PISANIO	I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he
+	wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress.
+
+CLOTEN	The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit
+	hither: let it be thy lint service; go.
+
+PISANIO	I shall, my lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CLOTEN	Meet thee at Milford-Haven!--I forgot to ask him one
+	thing; I'll remember't anon:--even there, thou
+	villain Posthumus, will I kill thee. I would these
+	garments were come. She said upon a time--the
+	bitterness of it I now belch from my heart--that she
+	held the very garment of Posthumus in more respect
+	than my noble and natural person together with the
+	adornment of my qualities. With that suit upon my
+	back, will I ravish her: first kill him, and in her
+	eyes; there shall she see my valour, which will then
+	be a torment to her contempt. He on the ground, my
+	speech of insultment ended on his dead body, and
+	when my lust hath dined,--which, as I say, to vex
+	her I will execute in the clothes that she so
+	praised,--to the court I'll knock her back, foot
+	her home again. She hath despised me rejoicingly,
+	and I'll be merry in my revenge.
+
+	[Re-enter PISANIO, with the clothes]
+
+	Be those the garments?
+
+PISANIO	Ay, my noble lord.
+
+CLOTEN	How long is't since she went to Milford-Haven?
+
+PISANIO	She can scarce be there yet.
+
+CLOTEN	Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the second
+	thing that I have commanded thee: the third is,
+	that thou wilt be a voluntary mute to my design. Be
+	but duteous, and true preferment shall tender itself
+	to thee. My revenge is now at Milford: would I had
+	wings to follow it! Come, and be true.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PISANIO	Thou bid'st me to my loss: for true to thee
+	Were to prove false, which I will never be,
+	To him that is most true. To Milford go,
+	And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow,
+	You heavenly blessings, on her! This fool's speed
+	Be cross'd with slowness; labour be his meed!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Wales. Before the cave of Belarius.
+
+
+	[Enter IMOGEN, in boy's clothes]
+
+IMOGEN	I see a man's life is a tedious one:
+	I have tired myself, and for two nights together
+	Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick,
+	But that my resolution helps me. Milford,
+	When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee,
+	Thou wast within a ken: O Jove! I think
+	Foundations fly the wretched; such, I mean,
+	Where they should be relieved. Two beggars told me
+	I could not miss my way: will poor folks lie,
+	That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis
+	A punishment or trial? Yes; no wonder,
+	When rich ones scarce tell true. To lapse in fulness
+	Is sorer than to lie for need, and falsehood
+	Is worse in kings than beggars. My dear lord!
+	Thou art one o' the false ones. Now I think on thee,
+	My hunger's gone; but even before, I was
+	At point to sink for food. But what is this?
+	Here is a path to't: 'tis some savage hold:
+	I were best not to call; I dare not call:
+	yet famine,
+	Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant,
+	Plenty and peace breeds cowards: hardness ever
+	Of hardiness is mother. Ho! who's here?
+	If any thing that's civil, speak; if savage,
+	Take or lend. Ho! No answer? Then I'll enter.
+	Best draw my sword: and if mine enemy
+	But fear the sword like me, he'll scarcely look on't.
+	Such a foe, good heavens!
+
+	[Exit, to the cave]
+
+	[Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS]
+
+BELARIUS	You, Polydote, have proved best woodman and
+	Are master of the feast: Cadwal and I
+	Will play the cook and servant; 'tis our match:
+	The sweat of industry would dry and die,
+	But for the end it works to. Come; our stomachs
+	Will make what's homely savoury: weariness
+	Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth
+	Finds the down pillow hard. Now peace be here,
+	Poor house, that keep'st thyself!
+
+GUIDERIUS	I am thoroughly weary.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite.
+
+GUIDERIUS	There is cold meat i' the cave; we'll browse on that,
+	Whilst what we have kill'd be cook'd.
+
+BELARIUS	[Looking into the cave]
+
+	Stay; come not in.
+	But that it eats our victuals, I should think
+	Here were a fairy.
+
+GUIDERIUS	What's the matter, sir?
+
+BELARIUS	By Jupiter, an angel! or, if not,
+	An earthly paragon! Behold divineness
+	No elder than a boy!
+
+	[Re-enter IMOGEN]
+
+IMOGEN	Good masters, harm me not:
+	Before I enter'd here, I call'd; and thought
+	To have begg'd or bought what I have took:
+	good troth,
+	I have stol'n nought, nor would not, though I had found
+	Gold strew'd i' the floor. Here's money for my meat:
+	I would have left it on the board so soon
+	As I had made my meal, and parted
+	With prayers for the provider.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Money, youth?
+
+ARVIRAGUS	All gold and silver rather turn to dirt!
+	As 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those
+	Who worship dirty gods.
+
+IMOGEN	I see you're angry:
+	Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should
+	Have died had I not made it.
+
+BELARIUS	Whither bound?
+
+IMOGEN	To Milford-Haven.
+
+BELARIUS	What's your name?
+
+IMOGEN	Fidele, sir. I have a kinsman who
+	Is bound for Italy; he embark'd at Milford;
+	To whom being going, almost spent with hunger,
+	I am fall'n in this offence.
+
+BELARIUS	Prithee, fair youth,
+	Think us no churls, nor measure our good minds
+	By this rude place we live in. Well encounter'd!
+	'Tis almost night: you shall have better cheer
+	Ere you depart: and thanks to stay and eat it.
+	Boys, bid him welcome.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Were you a woman, youth,
+	I should woo hard but be your groom. In honesty,
+	I bid for you as I'd buy.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	I'll make't my comfort
+	He is a man; I'll love him as my brother:
+	And such a welcome as I'd give to him
+	After long absence, such is yours: most welcome!
+	Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends.
+
+IMOGEN	'Mongst friends,
+	If brothers.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	Would it had been so, that they
+	Had been my father's sons! then had my prize
+	Been less, and so more equal ballasting
+	To thee, Posthumus.
+
+BELARIUS	He wrings at some distress.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Would I could free't!
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Or I, whate'er it be,
+	What pain it cost, what danger. God's!
+
+BELARIUS	Hark, boys.
+
+	[Whispering]
+
+IMOGEN	Great men,
+	That had a court no bigger than this cave,
+	That did attend themselves and had the virtue
+	Which their own conscience seal'd them--laying by
+	That nothing-gift of differing multitudes--
+	Could not out-peer these twain. Pardon me, gods!
+	I'd change my sex to be companion with them,
+	Since Leonatus's false.
+
+BELARIUS	It shall be so.
+	Boys, we'll go dress our hunt. Fair youth, come in:
+	Discourse is heavy, fasting; when we have supp'd,
+	We'll mannerly demand thee of thy story,
+	So far as thou wilt speak it.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Pray, draw near.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	The night to the owl and morn to the lark
+	less welcome.
+
+IMOGEN	Thanks, sir.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	I pray, draw near.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Rome. A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter two Senators and Tribunes]
+
+First Senator	This is the tenor of the emperor's writ:
+	That since the common men are now in action
+	'Gainst the Pannonians and Dalmatians,
+	And that the legions now in Gallia are
+	Full weak to undertake our wars against
+	The fall'n-off Britons, that we do incite
+	The gentry to this business. He creates
+	Lucius preconsul: and to you the tribunes,
+	For this immediate levy, he commends
+	His absolute commission. Long live Caesar!
+
+First Tribune	Is Lucius general of the forces?
+
+Second Senator	Ay.
+
+First Tribune	Remaining now in Gallia?
+
+First Senator	With those legions
+	Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy
+	Must be supplyant: the words of your commission
+	Will tie you to the numbers and the time
+	Of their dispatch.
+
+First Tribune	                  We will discharge our duty.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Wales: near the cave of Belarius.
+
+
+	[Enter CLOTEN]
+
+CLOTEN	I am near to the place where they should meet, if
+	Pisanio have mapped it truly. How fit his garments
+	serve me! Why should his mistress, who was made by
+	him that made the tailor, not be fit too? the
+	rather--saving reverence of the word--for 'tis said
+	a woman's fitness comes by fits. Therein I must
+	play the workman. I dare speak it to myself--for it
+	is not vain-glory for a man and his glass to confer
+	in his own chamber--I mean, the lines of my body are
+	as well drawn as his; no less young, more strong,
+	not beneath him in fortunes, beyond him in the
+	advantage of the time, above him in birth, alike
+	conversant in general services, and more remarkable
+	in single oppositions: yet this imperceiverant
+	thing loves him in my despite. What mortality is!
+	Posthumus, thy head, which now is growing upon thy
+	shoulders, shall within this hour be off; thy
+	mistress enforced; thy garments cut to pieces before
+	thy face: and all this done, spurn her home to her
+	father; who may haply be a little angry for my so
+	rough usage; but my mother, having power of his
+	testiness, shall turn all into my commendations. My
+	horse is tied up safe: out, sword, and to a sore
+	purpose! Fortune, put them into my hand! This is
+	the very description of their meeting-place; and
+	the fellow dares not deceive me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Before the cave of Belarius.
+
+
+	[Enter, from the cave, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS,
+	ARVIRAGUS, and IMOGEN]
+
+BELARIUS	[To IMOGEN]  You are not well: remain here in the cave;
+	We'll come to you after hunting.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	[To IMOGEN]	Brother, stay here
+	Are we not brothers?
+
+IMOGEN	So man and man should be;
+	But clay and clay differs in dignity,
+	Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Go you to hunting; I'll abide with him.
+
+IMOGEN	So sick I am not, yet I am not well;
+	But not so citizen a wanton as
+	To seem to die ere sick: so please you, leave me;
+	Stick to your journal course: the breach of custom
+	Is breach of all. I am ill, but your being by me
+	Cannot amend me; society is no comfort
+	To one not sociable: I am not very sick,
+	Since I can reason of it. Pray you, trust me here:
+	I'll rob none but myself; and let me die,
+	Stealing so poorly.
+
+GUIDERIUS	I love thee; I have spoke it
+	How much the quantity, the weight as much,
+	As I do love my father.
+
+BELARIUS	What! how! how!
+
+ARVIRAGUS	If it be sin to say so, I yoke me
+	In my good brother's fault: I know not why
+	I love this youth; and I have heard you say,
+	Love's reason's without reason: the bier at door,
+	And a demand who is't shall die, I'd say
+	'My father, not this youth.'
+
+BELARIUS	[Aside]	O noble strain!
+	O worthiness of nature! breed of greatness!
+	Cowards father cowards and base things sire base:
+	Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.
+	I'm not their father; yet who this should be,
+	Doth miracle itself, loved before me.
+	'Tis the ninth hour o' the morn.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Brother, farewell.
+
+IMOGEN	I wish ye sport.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	                  You health. So please you, sir.
+
+IMOGEN	[Aside]  These are kind creatures. Gods, what lies
+	I have heard!
+	Our courtiers say all's savage but at court:
+	Experience, O, thou disprovest report!
+	The imperious seas breed monsters, for the dish
+	Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish.
+	I am sick still; heart-sick. Pisanio,
+	I'll now taste of thy drug.
+
+	[Swallows some]
+
+GUIDERIUS	I could not stir him:
+	He said he was gentle, but unfortunate;
+	Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Thus did he answer me: yet said, hereafter
+	I might know more.
+
+BELARIUS	To the field, to the field!
+	We'll leave you for this time: go in and rest.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	We'll not be long away.
+
+BELARIUS	Pray, be not sick,
+	For you must be our housewife.
+
+IMOGEN	Well or ill,
+	I am bound to you.
+
+BELARIUS	And shalt be ever.
+
+	[Exit IMOGEN, to the cave]
+
+	This youth, how'er distress'd, appears he hath had
+	Good ancestors.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	                  How angel-like he sings!
+
+GUIDERIUS	But his neat cookery! he cut our roots
+	In characters,
+	And sauced our broths, as Juno had been sick
+	And he her dieter.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Nobly he yokes
+	A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh
+	Was that it was, for not being such a smile;
+	The smile mocking the sigh, that it would fly
+	From so divine a temple, to commix
+	With winds that sailors rail at.
+
+GUIDERIUS	I do note
+	That grief and patience, rooted in him both,
+	Mingle their spurs together.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Grow, patience!
+	And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine
+	His perishing root with the increasing vine!
+
+BELARIUS	It is great morning. Come, away!--
+	Who's there?
+
+	[Enter CLOTEN]
+
+CLOTEN	I cannot find those runagates; that villain
+	Hath mock'd me. I am faint.
+
+BELARIUS	'Those runagates!'
+	Means he not us? I partly know him: 'tis
+	Cloten, the son o' the queen. I fear some ambush.
+	I saw him not these many years, and yet
+	I know 'tis he. We are held as outlaws: hence!
+
+GUIDERIUS	He is but one: you and my brother search
+	What companies are near: pray you, away;
+	Let me alone with him.
+
+	[Exeunt BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS]
+
+CLOTEN	                  Soft! What are you
+	That fly me thus? some villain mountaineers?
+	I have heard of such. What slave art thou?
+
+GUIDERIUS	A thing
+	More slavish did I ne'er than answering
+	A slave without a knock.
+
+CLOTEN	Thou art a robber,
+	A law-breaker, a villain: yield thee, thief.
+
+GUIDERIUS	To who? to thee? What art thou? Have not I
+	An arm as big as thine? a heart as big?
+	Thy words, I grant, are bigger, for I wear not
+	My dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art,
+	Why I should yield to thee?
+
+CLOTEN	Thou villain base,
+	Know'st me not by my clothes?
+
+GUIDERIUS	No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
+	Who is thy grandfather: he made those clothes,
+	Which, as it seems, make thee.
+
+CLOTEN	Thou precious varlet,
+	My tailor made them not.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Hence, then, and thank
+	The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool;
+	I am loath to beat thee.
+
+CLOTEN	Thou injurious thief,
+	Hear but my name, and tremble.
+
+GUIDERIUS	What's thy name?
+
+CLOTEN	Cloten, thou villain.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name,
+	I cannot tremble at it: were it Toad, or
+	Adder, Spider,
+	'Twould move me sooner.
+
+CLOTEN	To thy further fear,
+	Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know
+	I am son to the queen.
+
+GUIDERIUS	I am sorry for 't; not seeming
+	So worthy as thy birth.
+
+CLOTEN	Art not afeard?
+
+GUIDERIUS	Those that I reverence those I fear, the wise:
+	At fools I laugh, not fear them.
+
+CLOTEN	Die the death:
+	When I have slain thee with my proper hand,
+	I'll follow those that even now fled hence,
+	And on the gates of Lud's-town set your heads:
+	Yield, rustic mountaineer.
+
+	[Exeunt, fighting]
+
+	[Re-enter BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS]
+
+BELARIUS	No companies abroad?
+
+ARVIRAGUS	None in the world: you did mistake him, sure.
+
+BELARIUS	I cannot tell: long is it since I saw him,
+	But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of favour
+	Which then he wore; the snatches in his voice,
+	And burst of speaking, were as his: I am absolute
+	'Twas very Cloten.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	                  In this place we left them:
+	I wish my brother make good time with him,
+	You say he is so fell.
+
+BELARIUS	Being scarce made up,
+	I mean, to man, he had not apprehension
+	Of roaring terrors; for the effect of judgment
+	Is oft the cause of fear. But, see, thy brother.
+
+	[Re-enter GUIDERIUS, with CLOTEN'S head]
+
+GUIDERIUS	This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse;
+	There was no money in't: not Hercules
+	Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had none:
+	Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne
+	My head as I do his.
+
+BELARIUS	What hast thou done?
+
+GUIDERIUS	I am perfect what: cut off one Cloten's head,
+	Son to the queen, after his own report;
+	Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer, and swore
+	With his own single hand he'ld take us in
+	Displace our heads where--thank the gods!--they grow,
+	And set them on Lud's-town.
+
+BELARIUS	We are all undone.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Why, worthy father, what have we to lose,
+	But that he swore to take, our lives? The law
+	Protects not us: then why should we be tender
+	To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us,
+	Play judge and executioner all himself,
+	For we do fear the law? What company
+	Discover you abroad?
+
+BELARIUS	No single soul
+	Can we set eye on; but in all safe reason
+	He must have some attendants. Though his humour
+	Was nothing but mutation, ay, and that
+	From one bad thing to worse; not frenzy, not
+	Absolute madness could so far have raved
+	To bring him here alone; although perhaps
+	It may be heard at court that such as we
+	Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time
+	May make some stronger head; the which he hearing--
+	As it is like him--might break out, and swear
+	He'ld fetch us in; yet is't not probable
+	To come alone, either he so undertaking,
+	Or they so suffering: then on good ground we fear,
+	If we do fear this body hath a tail
+	More perilous than the head.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Let ordinance
+	Come as the gods foresay it: howsoe'er,
+	My brother hath done well.
+
+BELARIUS	I had no mind
+	To hunt this day: the boy Fidele's sickness
+	Did make my way long forth.
+
+GUIDERIUS	With his own sword,
+	Which he did wave against my throat, I have ta'en
+	His head from him: I'll throw't into the creek
+	Behind our rock; and let it to the sea,
+	And tell the fishes he's the queen's son, Cloten:
+	That's all I reck.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BELARIUS	I fear 'twill be revenged:
+	Would, Polydote, thou hadst not done't! though valour
+	Becomes thee well enough.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Would I had done't
+	So the revenge alone pursued me! Polydore,
+	I love thee brotherly, but envy much
+	Thou hast robb'd me of this deed: I would revenges,
+	That possible strength might meet, would seek us through
+	And put us to our answer.
+
+BELARIUS	Well, 'tis done:
+	We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger
+	Where there's no profit. I prithee, to our rock;
+	You and Fidele play the cooks: I'll stay
+	Till hasty Polydote return, and bring him
+	To dinner presently.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Poor sick Fidele!
+	I'll weringly to him: to gain his colour
+	I'ld let a parish of such Clotens' blood,
+	And praise myself for charity.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BELARIUS	O thou goddess,
+	Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st
+	In these two princely boys! They are as gentle
+	As zephyrs blowing below the violet,
+	Not wagging his sweet head; and yet as rough,
+	Their royal blood enchafed, as the rudest wind,
+	That by the top doth take the mountain pine,
+	And make him stoop to the vale. 'Tis wonder
+	That an invisible instinct should frame them
+	To royalty unlearn'd, honour untaught,
+	Civility not seen from other, valour
+	That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
+	As if it had been sow'd. Yet still it's strange
+	What Cloten's being here to us portends,
+	Or what his death will bring us.
+
+	[Re-enter GUIDERIUS]
+
+GUIDERIUS	Where's my brother?
+	I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream,
+	In embassy to his mother: his body's hostage
+	For his return.
+
+	[Solemn music]
+
+BELARIUS	                  My ingenious instrument!
+	Hark, Polydore, it sounds! But what occasion
+	Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark!
+
+GUIDERIUS	Is he at home?
+
+BELARIUS	                  He went hence even now.
+
+GUIDERIUS	What does he mean? since death of my dear'st mother
+	it did not speak before. All solemn things
+	Should answer solemn accidents. The matter?
+	Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys
+	Is jollity for apes and grief for boys.
+	Is Cadwal mad?
+
+BELARIUS	                  Look, here he comes,
+	And brings the dire occasion in his arms
+	Of what we blame him for.
+
+	[Re-enter ARVIRAGUS, with IMOGEN, as dead,
+	bearing her in his arms]
+
+ARVIRAGUS	The bird is dead
+	That we have made so much on. I had rather
+	Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty,
+	To have turn'd my leaping-time into a crutch,
+	Than have seen this.
+
+GUIDERIUS	O sweetest, fairest lily!
+	My brother wears thee not the one half so well
+	As when thou grew'st thyself.
+
+BELARIUS	O melancholy!
+	Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? find
+	The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish crare
+	Might easiliest harbour in? Thou blessed thing!
+	Jove knows what man thou mightst have made; but I,
+	Thou diedst, a most rare boy, of melancholy.
+	How found you him?
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Stark, as you see:
+	Thus smiling, as some fly hid tickled slumber,
+	Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at; his
+	right cheek
+	Reposing on a cushion.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Where?
+
+ARVIRAGUS	O' the floor;
+	His arms thus leagued: I thought he slept, and put
+	My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness
+	Answer'd my steps too loud.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Why, he but sleeps:
+	If he be gone, he'll make his grave a bed;
+	With female fairies will his tomb be haunted,
+	And worms will not come to thee.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	With fairest flowers
+	Whilst summer lasts and I live here, Fidele,
+	I'll sweeten thy sad grave: thou shalt not lack
+	The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose, nor
+	The azured harebell, like thy veins, no, nor
+	The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
+	Out-sweeten'd not thy breath: the ruddock would,
+	With charitable bill,--O bill, sore-shaming
+	Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie
+	Without a monument!--bring thee all this;
+	Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are none,
+	To winter-ground thy corse.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Prithee, have done;
+	And do not play in wench-like words with that
+	Which is so serious. Let us bury him,
+	And not protract with admiration what
+	Is now due debt. To the grave!
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Say, where shall's lay him?
+
+GUIDERIUS	By good Euriphile, our mother.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Be't so:
+	And let us, Polydore, though now our voices
+	Have got the mannish crack, sing him to the ground,
+	As once our mother; use like note and words,
+	Save that Euriphile must be Fidele.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Cadwal,
+	I cannot sing: I'll weep, and word it with thee;
+	For notes of sorrow out of tune are worse
+	Than priests and fanes that lie.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	We'll speak it, then.
+
+BELARIUS	Great griefs, I see, medicine the less; for Cloten
+	Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys;
+	And though he came our enemy, remember
+	He was paid for that: though mean and
+	mighty, rotting
+	Together, have one dust, yet reverence,
+	That angel of the world, doth make distinction
+	Of place 'tween high and low. Our foe was princely
+	And though you took his life, as being our foe,
+	Yet bury him as a prince.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Pray You, fetch him hither.
+	Thersites' body is as good as Ajax',
+	When neither are alive.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	If you'll go fetch him,
+	We'll say our song the whilst. Brother, begin.
+
+	[Exit BELARIUS]
+
+GUIDERIUS	Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to the east;
+	My father hath a reason for't.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	'Tis true.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Come on then, and remove him.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	So. Begin.
+	[SONG]
+
+GUIDERIUS	     Fear no more the heat o' the sun,
+	Nor the furious winter's rages;
+	Thou thy worldly task hast done,
+	Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages:
+	Golden lads and girls all must,
+	As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	     Fear no more the frown o' the great;
+	Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
+	Care no more to clothe and eat;
+	To thee the reed is as the oak:
+	The sceptre, learning, physic, must
+	All follow this, and come to dust.
+
+GUIDERIUS	     Fear no more the lightning flash,
+
+ARVIRAGUS	        Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
+
+GUIDERIUS	     Fear not slander, censure rash;
+
+ARVIRAGUS	        Thou hast finish'd joy and moan:
+
+
+GUIDERIUS	|
+	|  All lovers young, all lovers must
+ARVIRAGUS	|   Consign to thee, and come to dust.
+
+
+GUIDERIUS	     No exorciser harm thee!
+
+ARVIRAGUS	        Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
+
+GUIDERIUS	     Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
+
+ARVIRAGUS	        Nothing ill come near thee!
+
+
+GUIDERIUS	|
+	|   Quiet consummation have;
+ARVIRAGUS	|    And renowned be thy grave!
+
+
+	[Re-enter BELARIUS, with the body of CLOTEN]
+
+GUIDERIUS	We have done our obsequies: come, lay him down.
+
+BELARIUS	Here's a few flowers; but 'bout midnight, more:
+	The herbs that have on them cold dew o' the night
+	Are strewings fitt'st for graves. Upon their faces.
+	You were as flowers, now wither'd: even so
+	These herblets shall, which we upon you strew.
+	Come on, away: apart upon our knees.
+	The ground that gave them first has them again:
+	Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain.
+
+	[Exeunt BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS]
+
+IMOGEN	[Awaking]  Yes, sir, to Milford-Haven; which is
+	the way?--
+	I thank you.--By yond bush?--Pray, how far thither?
+	'Ods pittikins! can it be six mile yet?--
+	I have gone all night. 'Faith, I'll lie down and sleep.
+	But, soft! no bedfellow!--O gods and goddesses!
+
+	[Seeing the body of CLOTEN]
+
+	These flowers are like the pleasures of the world;
+	This bloody man, the care on't. I hope I dream;
+	For so I thought I was a cave-keeper,
+	And cook to honest creatures: but 'tis not so;
+	'Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing,
+	Which the brain makes of fumes: our very eyes
+	Are sometimes like our judgments, blind. Good faith,
+	I tremble stiff with fear: but if there be
+	Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity
+	As a wren's eye, fear'd gods, a part of it!
+	The dream's here still: even when I wake, it is
+	Without me, as within me; not imagined, felt.
+	A headless man! The garments of Posthumus!
+	I know the shape of's leg: this is his hand;
+	His foot Mercurial; his Martial thigh;
+	The brawns of Hercules: but his Jovial face
+	Murder in heaven?--How!--'Tis gone. Pisanio,
+	All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
+	And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou,
+	Conspired with that irregulous devil, Cloten,
+	Hast here cut off my lord. To write and read
+	Be henceforth treacherous! Damn'd Pisanio
+	Hath with his forged letters,--damn'd Pisanio--
+	From this most bravest vessel of the world
+	Struck the main-top! O Posthumus! alas,
+	Where is thy head? where's that? Ay me!
+	where's that?
+	Pisanio might have kill'd thee at the heart,
+	And left this head on. How should this be? Pisanio?
+	'Tis he and Cloten: malice and lucre in them
+	Have laid this woe here. O, 'tis pregnant, pregnant!
+	The drug he gave me, which he said was precious
+	And cordial to me, have I not found it
+	Murderous to the senses? That confirms it home:
+	This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's: O!
+	Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood,
+	That we the horrider may seem to those
+	Which chance to find us: O, my lord, my lord!
+
+	[Falls on the body]
+
+	[Enter LUCIUS, a Captain and other Officers,
+	and a Soothsayer]
+
+Captain	To them the legions garrison'd in Gailia,
+	After your will, have cross'd the sea, attending
+	You here at Milford-Haven with your ships:
+	They are in readiness.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	But what from Rome?
+
+Captain	The senate hath stirr'd up the confiners
+	And gentlemen of Italy, most willing spirits,
+	That promise noble service: and they come
+	Under the conduct of bold Iachimo,
+	Syenna's brother.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	                  When expect you them?
+
+Captain	With the next benefit o' the wind.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	This forwardness
+	Makes our hopes fair. Command our present numbers
+	Be muster'd; bid the captains look to't. Now, sir,
+	What have you dream'd of late of this war's purpose?
+
+Soothsayer	Last night the very gods show'd me a vision--
+	I fast and pray'd for their intelligence--thus:
+	I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd
+	From the spongy south to this part of the west,
+	There vanish'd in the sunbeams: which portends--
+	Unless my sins abuse my divination--
+	Success to the Roman host.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Dream often so,
+	And never false. Soft, ho! what trunk is here
+	Without his top? The ruin speaks that sometime
+	It was a worthy building. How! a page!
+	Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead rather;
+	For nature doth abhor to make his bed
+	With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.
+	Let's see the boy's face.
+
+Captain	He's alive, my lord.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	He'll then instruct us of this body. Young one,
+	Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems
+	They crave to be demanded. Who is this
+	Thou makest thy bloody pillow? Or who was he
+	That, otherwise than noble nature did,
+	Hath alter'd that good picture? What's thy interest
+	In this sad wreck? How came it? Who is it?
+	What art thou?
+
+IMOGEN	                  I am nothing: or if not,
+	Nothing to be were better. This was my master,
+	A very valiant Briton and a good,
+	That here by mountaineers lies slain. Alas!
+	There is no more such masters: I may wander
+	From east to occident, cry out for service,
+	Try many, all good, serve truly, never
+	Find such another master.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	'Lack, good youth!
+	Thou movest no less with thy complaining than
+	Thy master in bleeding: say his name, good friend.
+
+IMOGEN	Richard du Champ.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	If I do lie and do
+	No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope
+	They'll pardon it.--Say you, sir?
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Thy name?
+
+IMOGEN	Fidele, sir.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Thou dost approve thyself the very same:
+	Thy name well fits thy faith, thy faith thy name.
+	Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say
+	Thou shalt be so well master'd, but, be sure,
+	No less beloved. The Roman emperor's letters,
+	Sent by a consul to me, should not sooner
+	Than thine own worth prefer thee: go with me.
+
+IMOGEN	I'll follow, sir. But first, an't please the gods,
+	I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep
+	As these poor pickaxes can dig; and when
+	With wild wood-leaves and weeds I ha' strew'd his grave,
+	And on it said a century of prayers,
+	Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep and sigh;
+	And leaving so his service, follow you,
+	So please you entertain me.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Ay, good youth!
+	And rather father thee than master thee.
+	My friends,
+	The boy hath taught us manly duties: let us
+	Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can,
+	And make him with our pikes and partisans
+	A grave: come, arm him. Boy, he is preferr'd
+	By thee to us, and he shall be interr'd
+	As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes
+	Some falls are means the happier to arise.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in Cymbeline's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter CYMBELINE, Lords, PISANIO, and Attendants]
+
+CYMBELINE	Again; and bring me word how 'tis with her.
+
+	[Exit an Attendant]
+
+	A fever with the absence of her son,
+	A madness, of which her life's in danger. Heavens,
+	How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen,
+	The great part of my comfort, gone; my queen
+	Upon a desperate bed, and in a time
+	When fearful wars point at me; her son gone,
+	So needful for this present: it strikes me, past
+	The hope of comfort. But for thee, fellow,
+	Who needs must know of her departure and
+	Dost seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee
+	By a sharp torture.
+
+PISANIO	Sir, my life is yours;
+	I humbly set it at your will; but, for my mistress,
+	I nothing know where she remains, why gone,
+	Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your highness,
+	Hold me your loyal servant.
+
+First Lord	Good my liege,
+	The day that she was missing he was here:
+	I dare be bound he's true and shall perform
+	All parts of his subjection loyally. For Cloten,
+	There wants no diligence in seeking him,
+	And will, no doubt, be found.
+
+CYMBELINE	The time is troublesome.
+
+	[To PISANIO]
+
+	We'll slip you for a season; but our jealousy
+	Does yet depend.
+
+First Lord	                  So please your majesty,
+	The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,
+	Are landed on your coast, with a supply
+	Of Roman gentlemen, by the senate sent.
+
+CYMBELINE	Now for the counsel of my son and queen!
+	I am amazed with matter.
+
+First Lord	Good my liege,
+	Your preparation can affront no less
+	Than what you hear of: come more, for more
+	you're ready:
+	The want is but to put those powers in motion
+	That long to move.
+
+CYMBELINE	                  I thank you. Let's withdraw;
+	And meet the time as it seeks us. We fear not
+	What can from Italy annoy us; but
+	We grieve at chances here. Away!
+
+	[Exeunt all but PISANIO]
+
+PISANIO	I heard no letter from my master since
+	I wrote him Imogen was slain: 'tis strange:
+	Nor hear I from my mistress who did promise
+	To yield me often tidings: neither know I
+	What is betid to Cloten; but remain
+	Perplex'd in all. The heavens still must work.
+	Wherein I am false I am honest; not true, to be true.
+	These present wars shall find I love my country,
+	Even to the note o' the king, or I'll fall in them.
+	All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd:
+	Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Wales: before the cave of Belarius.
+
+
+	[Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.
+
+GUIDERIUS	The noise is round about us.
+
+BELARIUS	Let us from it.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to lock it
+	From action and adventure?
+
+GUIDERIUS	Nay, what hope
+	Have we in hiding us? This way, the Romans
+	Must or for Britons slay us, or receive us
+	For barbarous and unnatural revolts
+	During their use, and slay us after.
+
+BELARIUS	Sons,
+	We'll higher to the mountains; there secure us.
+	To the king's party there's no going: newness
+	Of Cloten's death--we being not known, not muster'd
+	Among the bands--may drive us to a render
+	Where we have lived, and so extort from's that
+	Which we have done, whose answer would be death
+	Drawn on with torture.
+
+GUIDERIUS	This is, sir, a doubt
+	In such a time nothing becoming you,
+	Nor satisfying us.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	                  It is not likely
+	That when they hear the Roman horses neigh,
+	Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their eyes
+	And ears so cloy'd importantly as now,
+	That they will waste their time upon our note,
+	To know from whence we are.
+
+BELARIUS	O, I am known
+	Of many in the army: many years,
+	Though Cloten then but young, you see, not wore him
+	From my remembrance. And, besides, the king
+	Hath not deserved my service nor your loves;
+	Who find in my exile the want of breeding,
+	The certainty of this hard life; aye hopeless
+	To have the courtesy your cradle promised,
+	But to be still hot summer's tamings and
+	The shrinking slaves of winter.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Than be so
+	Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to the army:
+	I and my brother are not known; yourself
+	So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,
+	Cannot be question'd.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	By this sun that shines,
+	I'll thither: what thing is it that I never
+	Did see man die! scarce ever look'd on blood,
+	But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison!
+	Never bestrid a horse, save one that had
+	A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel
+	Nor iron on his heel! I am ashamed
+	To look upon the holy sun, to have
+	The benefit of his blest beams, remaining
+	So long a poor unknown.
+
+GUIDERIUS	By heavens, I'll go:
+	If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave,
+	I'll take the better care, but if you will not,
+	The hazard therefore due fall on me by
+	The hands of Romans!
+
+ARVIRAGUS	So say I	amen.
+
+BELARIUS	No reason I, since of your lives you set
+	So slight a valuation, should reserve
+	My crack'd one to more care. Have with you, boys!
+	If in your country wars you chance to die,
+	That is my bed too, lads, an there I'll lie:
+	Lead, lead.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	The time seems long; their blood
+	thinks scorn,
+	Till it fly out and show them princes born.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Britain. The Roman camp.
+
+
+	[Enter POSTHUMUS, with a bloody handkerchief]
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee, for I wish'd
+	Thou shouldst be colour'd thus. You married ones,
+	If each of you should take this course, how many
+	Must murder wives much better than themselves
+	For wrying but a little! O Pisanio!
+	Every good servant does not all commands:
+	No bond but to do just ones. Gods! if you
+	Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I never
+	Had lived to put on this: so had you saved
+	The noble Imogen to repent, and struck
+	Me, wretch more worth your vengeance. But, alack,
+	You snatch some hence for little faults; that's love,
+	To have them fall no more: you some permit
+	To second ills with ills, each elder worse,
+	And make them dread it, to the doers' thrift.
+	But Imogen is your own: do your best wills,
+	And make me blest to obey! I am brought hither
+	Among the Italian gentry, and to fight
+	Against my lady's kingdom: 'tis enough
+	That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress; peace!
+	I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good heavens,
+	Hear patiently my purpose: I'll disrobe me
+	Of these Italian weeds and suit myself
+	As does a Briton peasant: so I'll fight
+	Against the part I come with; so I'll die
+	For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life
+	Is every breath a death; and thus, unknown,
+	Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril
+	Myself I'll dedicate. Let me make men know
+	More valour in me than my habits show.
+	Gods, put the strength o' the Leonati in me!
+	To shame the guise o' the world, I will begin
+	The fashion, less without and more within.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Field of battle between the British and Roman camps.
+
+
+	[Enter, from one side, LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and
+	the Roman Army: from the other side, the
+	British Army; POSTHUMUS LEONATUS following,
+	like a poor soldier. They march over and go
+	out. Then enter again, in skirmish, IACHIMO
+	and POSTHUMUS LEONATUS he vanquisheth and disarmeth
+	IACHIMO, and then leaves him]
+
+IACHIMO	The heaviness and guilt within my bosom
+	Takes off my manhood: I have belied a lady,
+	The princess of this country, and the air on't
+	Revengingly enfeebles me; or could this carl,
+	A very drudge of nature's, have subdued me
+	In my profession? Knighthoods and honours, borne
+	As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn.
+	If that thy gentry, Britain, go before
+	This lout as he exceeds our lords, the odds
+	Is that we scarce are men and you are gods.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[The battle continues; the Britons fly; CYMBELINE is
+	taken: then enter, to his rescue, BELARIUS,
+	GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS]
+
+BELARIUS	Stand, stand! We have the advantage of the ground;
+	The lane is guarded: nothing routs us but
+	The villany of our fears.
+
+
+GUIDERIUS	|
+	|  Stand, stand, and fight!
+ARVIRAGUS	|
+
+
+	[Re-enter POSTHUMUS LEONATUS, and seconds the
+	Britons: they rescue CYMBELINE, and exeunt. Then
+	re-enter LUCIUS, and IACHIMO, with IMOGEN]
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself;
+	For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such
+	As war were hoodwink'd.
+
+IACHIMO	'Tis their fresh supplies.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	It is a day turn'd strangely: or betimes
+	Let's reinforce, or fly.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Enter POSTHUMUS LEONATUS and a British Lord]
+
+Lord	Camest thou from where they made the stand?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	I did.
+	Though you, it seems, come from the fliers.
+
+Lord	I did.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	No blame be to you, sir; for all was lost,
+	But that the heavens fought: the king himself
+	Of his wings destitute, the army broken,
+	And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying
+	Through a straight lane; the enemy full-hearted,
+	Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work
+	More plentiful than tools to do't, struck down
+	Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling
+	Merely through fear; that the straight pass was damm'd
+	With dead men hurt behind, and cowards living
+	To die with lengthen'd shame.
+
+Lord	Where was this lane?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Close by the battle, ditch'd, and wall'd with turf;
+	Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier,
+	An honest one, I warrant; who deserved
+	So long a breeding as his white beard came to,
+	In doing this for's country: athwart the lane,
+	He, with two striplings-lads more like to run
+	The country base than to commit such slaughter
+	With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer
+	Than those for preservation cased, or shame--
+	Made good the passage; cried to those that fled,
+	'Our Britain s harts die flying, not our men:
+	To darkness fleet souls that fly backwards. Stand;
+	Or we are Romans and will give you that
+	Like beasts which you shun beastly, and may save,
+	But to look back in frown: stand, stand.'
+	These three,
+	Three thousand confident, in act as many--
+	For three performers are the file when all
+	The rest do nothing--with this word 'Stand, stand,'
+	Accommodated by the place, more charming
+	With their own nobleness, which could have turn'd
+	A distaff to a lance, gilded pale looks,
+	Part shame, part spirit renew'd; that some,
+	turn'd coward
+	But by example--O, a sin in war,
+	Damn'd in the first beginners!--gan to look
+	The way that they did, and to grin like lions
+	Upon the pikes o' the hunters. Then began
+	A stop i' the chaser, a retire, anon
+	A rout, confusion thick; forthwith they fly
+	Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles; slaves,
+	The strides they victors made: and now our cowards,
+	Like fragments in hard voyages, became
+	The life o' the need: having found the backdoor open
+	Of the unguarded hearts, heavens, how they wound!
+	Some slain before; some dying; some their friends
+	O'er borne i' the former wave: ten, chased by one,
+	Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty:
+	Those that would die or ere resist are grown
+	The mortal bugs o' the field.
+
+Lord	This was strange chance
+	A narrow lane, an old man, and two boys.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Nay, do not wonder at it: you are made
+	Rather to wonder at the things you hear
+	Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't,
+	And vent it for a mockery? Here is one:
+	'Two boys, an old man twice a boy, a lane,
+	Preserved the Britons, was the Romans' bane.'
+
+Lord	Nay, be not angry, sir.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	'Lack, to what end?
+	Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend;
+	For if he'll do as he is made to do,
+	I know he'll quickly fly my friendship too.
+	You have put me into rhyme.
+
+Lord	Farewell; you're angry.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Still going?
+
+	[Exit Lord]
+
+	This is a lord! O noble misery,
+	To be i' the field, and ask 'what news?' of me!
+	To-day how many would have given their honours
+	To have saved their carcasses! took heel to do't,
+	And yet died too! I, in mine own woe charm'd,
+	Could not find death where I did hear him groan,
+	Nor feel him where he struck: being an ugly monster,
+	'Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds,
+	Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we
+	That draw his knives i' the war. Well, I will find him
+	For being now a favourer to the Briton,
+	No more a Briton, I have resumed again
+	The part I came in: fight I will no more,
+	But yield me to the veriest hind that shall
+	Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is
+	Here made by the Roman; great the answer be
+	Britons must take. For me, my ransom's death;
+	On either side I come to spend my breath;
+	Which neither here I'll keep nor bear again,
+	But end it by some means for Imogen.
+
+	[Enter two British Captains and Soldiers]
+
+First Captain	Great Jupiter be praised! Lucius is taken.
+	'Tis thought the old man and his sons were angels.
+
+Second Captain	There was a fourth man, in a silly habit,
+	That gave the affront with them.
+
+First Captain	So 'tis reported:
+	But none of 'em can be found. Stand! who's there?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	A Roman,
+	Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds
+	Had answer'd him.
+
+Second Captain	                  Lay hands on him; a dog!
+	A leg of Rome shall not return to tell
+	What crows have peck'd them here. He brags
+	his service
+	As if he were of note: bring him to the king.
+
+	[Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS,
+	PISANIO, Soldiers, Attendants, and Roman Captives.
+	The Captains present POSTHUMUS LEONATUS to
+	CYMBELINE, who delivers him over to a Gaoler:
+	then exeunt omnes]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A British prison.
+
+
+	[Enter POSTHUMUS LEONATUS and two Gaolers]
+
+First Gaoler	You shall not now be stol'n, you have locks upon you;
+	So graze as you find pasture.
+
+Second Gaoler	Ay, or a stomach.
+
+	[Exeunt Gaolers]
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Most welcome, bondage! for thou art away,
+	think, to liberty: yet am I better
+	Than one that's sick o' the gout; since he had rather
+	Groan so in perpetuity than be cured
+	By the sure physician, death, who is the key
+	To unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art fetter'd
+	More than my shanks and wrists: you good gods, give me
+	The penitent instrument to pick that bolt,
+	Then, free for ever! Is't enough I am sorry?
+	So children temporal fathers do appease;
+	Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent?
+	I cannot do it better than in gyves,
+	Desired more than constrain'd: to satisfy,
+	If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
+	No stricter render of me than my all.
+	I know you are more clement than vile men,
+	Who of their broken debtors take a third,
+	A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
+	On their abatement: that's not my desire:
+	For Imogen's dear life take mine; and though
+	'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd it:
+	'Tween man and man they weigh not every stamp;
+	Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake:
+	You rather mine, being yours: and so, great powers,
+	If you will take this audit, take this life,
+	And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen!
+	I'll speak to thee in silence.
+
+	[Sleeps]
+
+	[Solemn music. Enter, as in an apparition,
+	SICILIUS LEONATUS, father to Posthumus Leonatus,
+	an old man, attired like a warrior; leading in
+	his hand an ancient matron, his wife, and mother
+	to Posthumus Leonatus, with music before them:
+	then, after other music, follow the two young
+	Leonati, brothers to Posthumus Leonatus, with
+	wounds as they died in the wars. They circle
+	Posthumus Leonatus round, as he lies sleeping]
+
+Sicilius Leonatus	No more, thou thunder-master, show
+	Thy spite on mortal flies:
+	With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,
+	That thy adulteries
+	Rates and revenges.
+	Hath my poor boy done aught but well,
+	Whose face I never saw?
+	I died whilst in the womb he stay'd
+	Attending nature's law:
+	Whose father then, as men report
+	Thou orphans' father art,
+	Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him
+	From this earth-vexing smart.
+
+Mother	Lucina lent not me her aid,
+	But took me in my throes;
+	That from me was Posthumus ript,
+	Came crying 'mongst his foes,
+	A thing of pity!
+
+Sicilius Leonatus	Great nature, like his ancestry,
+	Moulded the stuff so fair,
+	That he deserved the praise o' the world,
+	As great Sicilius' heir.
+
+First Brother	When once he was mature for man,
+	In Britain where was he
+	That could stand up his parallel;
+	Or fruitful object be
+	In eye of Imogen, that best
+	Could deem his dignity?
+
+Mother	With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,
+	To be exiled, and thrown
+	From Leonati seat, and cast
+	From her his dearest one,
+	Sweet Imogen?
+
+Sicilius Leonatus	Why did you suffer Iachimo,
+	Slight thing of Italy,
+	To taint his nobler heart and brain
+	With needless jealosy;
+	And to become the geck and scorn
+	O' th' other's villany?
+
+Second Brother	For this from stiller seats we came,
+	Our parents and us twain,
+	That striking in our country's cause
+	Fell bravely and were slain,
+	Our fealty and Tenantius' right
+	With honour to maintain.
+
+First Brother	Like hardiment Posthumus hath
+	To Cymbeline perform'd:
+	Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,
+	Why hast thou thus adjourn'd
+	The graces for his merits due,
+	Being all to dolours turn'd?
+
+Sicilius Leonatus	Thy crystal window ope; look out;
+	No longer exercise
+	Upon a valiant race thy harsh
+	And potent injuries.
+
+Mother	Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
+	Take off his miseries.
+
+Sicilius Leonatus	Peep through thy marble mansion; help;
+	Or we poor ghosts will cry
+	To the shining synod of the rest
+	Against thy deity.
+
+
+First Brother	|   Help, Jupiter; or we appeal,
+	|   And from thy justice fly.
+Second Brother	|
+
+
+	[Jupiter descends in thunder and lightning, sitting
+	upon an eagle: he throws a thunderbolt. The
+	Apparitions fall on their knees]
+
+Jupiter	No more, you petty spirits of region low,
+	Offend our hearing; hush! How dare you ghosts
+	Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt, you know,
+	Sky-planted batters all rebelling coasts?
+	Poor shadows of Elysium, hence, and rest
+	Upon your never-withering banks of flowers:
+	Be not with mortal accidents opprest;
+	No care of yours it is; you know 'tis ours.
+	Whom best I love I cross; to make my gift,
+	The more delay'd, delighted. Be content;
+	Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift:
+	His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
+	Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in
+	Our temple was he married. Rise, and fade.
+	He shall be lord of lady Imogen,
+	And happier much by his affliction made.
+	This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein
+	Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine:
+	and so, away: no further with your din
+	Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.
+	Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.
+
+	[Ascends]
+
+Sicilius Leonatus	He came in thunder; his celestial breath
+	Was sulphurous to smell: the holy eagle
+	Stoop'd as to foot us: his ascension is
+	More sweet than our blest fields: his royal bird
+	Prunes the immortal wing and cloys his beak,
+	As when his god is pleased.
+
+All	Thanks, Jupiter!
+
+Sicilius Leonatus	The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd
+	His radiant root. Away! and, to be blest,
+	Let us with care perform his great behest.
+
+	[The Apparitions vanish]
+
+Posthumus Leonatus	[Waking]  Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire, and begot
+	A father to me; and thou hast created
+	A mother and two brothers: but, O scorn!
+	Gone! they went hence so soon as they were born:
+	And so I am awake. Poor wretches that depend
+	On greatness' favour dream as I have done,
+	Wake and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve:
+	Many dream not to find, neither deserve,
+	And yet are steep'd in favours: so am I,
+	That have this golden chance and know not why.
+	What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O rare one!
+	Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
+	Nobler than that it covers: let thy effects
+	So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers,
+	As good as promise.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown,
+	without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of
+	tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be
+	lopped branches, which, being dead many years,
+	shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock and
+	freshly grow; then shall Posthumus end his miseries,
+	Britain be fortunate and flourish in peace and plenty.'
+	'Tis still a dream, or else such stuff as madmen
+	Tongue and brain not; either both or nothing;
+	Or senseless speaking or a speaking such
+	As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,
+	The action of my life is like it, which
+	I'll keep, if but for sympathy.
+
+	[Re-enter First Gaoler]
+
+First Gaoler	Come, sir, are you ready for death?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Over-roasted rather; ready long ago.
+
+First Gaoler	Hanging is the word, sir: if
+	you be ready for that, you are well cooked.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	So, if I prove a good repast to the
+	spectators, the dish pays the shot.
+
+First Gaoler	A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But the comfort is,
+	you shall be called to no more payments, fear no
+	more tavern-bills; which are often the sadness of
+	parting, as the procuring of mirth: you come in
+	flint for want of meat, depart reeling with too
+	much drink; sorry that you have paid too much, and
+	sorry that you are paid too much; purse and brain
+	both empty; the brain the heavier for being too
+	light, the purse too light, being drawn of
+	heaviness: of this contradiction you shall now be
+	quit. O, the charity of a penny cord! It sums up
+	thousands in a trice: you have no true debitor and
+	creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come,
+	the discharge: your neck, sir, is pen, book and
+	counters; so the acquittance follows.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	I am merrier to die than thou art to live.
+
+First Gaoler	Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the
+	tooth-ache: but a man that were to sleep your
+	sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he
+	would change places with his officer; for, look you,
+	sir, you know not which way you shall go.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Yes, indeed do I, fellow.
+
+First Gaoler	Your death has eyes in 's head then; I have not seen
+	him so pictured: you must either be directed by
+	some that take upon them to know, or do take upon
+	yourself that which I am sure you do not know, or
+	jump the after inquiry on your own peril: and how
+	you shall speed in your journey's end, I think you'll
+	never return to tell one.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to
+	direct them the way I am going, but such as wink and
+	will not use them.
+
+First Gaoler	What an infinite mock is this, that a man should
+	have the best use of eyes to see the way of
+	blindness! I am sure hanging's the way of winking.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the king.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Thou bring'st good news; I am called to be made free.
+
+First Gaoler	I'll be hang'd then.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead.
+
+	[Exeunt POSTHUMUS LEONATUS and Messenger]
+
+First Gaoler	Unless a man would marry a gallows and beget young
+	gibbets, I never saw one so prone. Yet, on my
+	conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live,
+	for all he be a Roman: and there be some of them
+	too that die against their wills; so should I, if I
+	were one. I would we were all of one mind, and one
+	mind good; O, there were desolation of gaolers and
+	gallowses! I speak against my present profit, but
+	my wish hath a preferment in 't.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CYMBELINE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Cymbeline's tent.
+
+
+	[Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS,
+	PISANIO, Lords, Officers, and Attendants]
+
+CYMBELINE	Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made
+	Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart
+	That the poor soldier that so richly fought,
+	Whose rags shamed gilded arms, whose naked breast
+	Stepp'd before larges of proof, cannot be found:
+	He shall be happy that can find him, if
+	Our grace can make him so.
+
+BELARIUS	I never saw
+	Such noble fury in so poor a thing;
+	Such precious deeds in one that promises nought
+	But beggary and poor looks.
+
+CYMBELINE	No tidings of him?
+
+PISANIO	He hath been search'd among the dead and living,
+	But no trace of him.
+
+CYMBELINE	To my grief, I am
+	The heir of his reward;
+
+	[To BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS]
+
+		    which I will add
+	To you, the liver, heart and brain of Britain,
+	By whom I grant she lives. 'Tis now the time
+	To ask of whence you are. Report it.
+
+BELARIUS	Sir,
+	In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen:
+	Further to boast were neither true nor modest,
+	Unless I add, we are honest.
+
+CYMBELINE	Bow your knees.
+	Arise my knights o' the battle: I create you
+	Companions to our person and will fit you
+	With dignities becoming your estates.
+
+	[Enter CORNELIUS and Ladies]
+
+	There's business in these faces. Why so sadly
+	Greet you our victory? you look like Romans,
+	And not o' the court of Britain.
+
+CORNELIUS	Hail, great king!
+	To sour your happiness, I must report
+	The queen is dead.
+
+CYMBELINE	Who worse than a physician
+	Would this report become? But I consider,
+	By medicine life may be prolong'd, yet death
+	Will seize the doctor too. How ended she?
+
+CORNELIUS	With horror, madly dying, like her life,
+	Which, being cruel to the world, concluded
+	Most cruel to herself. What she confess'd
+	I will report, so please you: these her women
+	Can trip me, if I err; who with wet cheeks
+	Were present when she finish'd.
+
+CYMBELINE	Prithee, say.
+
+CORNELIUS	First, she confess'd she never loved you, only
+	Affected greatness got by you, not you:
+	Married your royalty, was wife to your place;
+	Abhorr'd your person.
+
+CYMBELINE	She alone knew this;
+	And, but she spoke it dying, I would not
+	Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.
+
+CORNELIUS	Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love
+	With such integrity, she did confess
+	Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life,
+	But that her flight prevented it, she had
+	Ta'en off by poison.
+
+CYMBELINE	O most delicate fiend!
+	Who is 't can read a woman? Is there more?
+
+CORNELIUS	More, sir, and worse. She did confess she had
+	For you a mortal mineral; which, being took,
+	Should by the minute feed on life and lingering
+	By inches waste you: in which time she purposed,
+	By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
+	O'ercome you with her show, and in time,
+	When she had fitted you with her craft, to work
+	Her son into the adoption of the crown:
+	But, failing of her end by his strange absence,
+	Grew shameless-desperate; open'd, in despite
+	Of heaven and men, her purposes; repented
+	The evils she hatch'd were not effected; so
+	Despairing died.
+
+CYMBELINE	                  Heard you all this, her women?
+
+First Lady	We did, so please your highness.
+
+CYMBELINE	Mine eyes
+	Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
+	Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart,
+	That thought her like her seeming; it had
+	been vicious
+	To have mistrusted her: yet, O my daughter!
+	That it was folly in me, thou mayst say,
+	And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!
+
+	[Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, the Soothsayer, and other
+	Roman Prisoners, guarded; POSTHUMUS LEONATUS
+	behind, and IMOGEN]
+
+	Thou comest not, Caius, now for tribute that
+	The Britons have razed out, though with the loss
+	Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have made suit
+	That their good souls may be appeased with slaughter
+	Of you their captives, which ourself have granted:
+	So think of your estate.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day
+	Was yours by accident; had it gone with us,
+	We should not, when the blood was cool,
+	have threaten'd
+	Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
+	Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
+	May be call'd ransom, let it come: sufficeth
+	A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer:
+	Augustus lives to think on't: and so much
+	For my peculiar care. This one thing only
+	I will entreat; my boy, a Briton born,
+	Let him be ransom'd: never master had
+	A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
+	So tender over his occasions, true,
+	So feat, so nurse-like: let his virtue join
+	With my request, which I make bold your highness
+	Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm,
+	Though he have served a Roman: save him, sir,
+	And spare no blood beside.
+
+CYMBELINE	I have surely seen him:
+	His favour is familiar to me. Boy,
+	Thou hast look'd thyself into my grace,
+	And art mine own. I know not why, wherefore,
+	To say 'live, boy:' ne'er thank thy master; live:
+	And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
+	Fitting my bounty and thy state, I'll give it;
+	Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,
+	The noblest ta'en.
+
+IMOGEN	                  I humbly thank your highness.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad;
+	And yet I know thou wilt.
+
+IMOGEN	No, no: alack,
+	There's other work in hand: I see a thing
+	Bitter to me as death: your life, good master,
+	Must shuffle for itself.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	The boy disdains me,
+	He leaves me, scorns me: briefly die their joys
+	That place them on the truth of girls and boys.
+	Why stands he so perplex'd?
+
+CYMBELINE	What wouldst thou, boy?
+	I love thee more and more: think more and more
+	What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on? speak,
+	Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend?
+
+IMOGEN	He is a Roman; no more kin to me
+	Than I to your highness; who, being born your vassal,
+	Am something nearer.
+
+CYMBELINE	Wherefore eyest him so?
+
+IMOGEN	I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
+	To give me hearing.
+
+CYMBELINE	Ay, with all my heart,
+	And lend my best attention. What's thy name?
+
+IMOGEN	Fidele, sir.
+
+CYMBELINE	                  Thou'rt my good youth, my page;
+	I'll be thy master: walk with me; speak freely.
+
+	[CYMBELINE and IMOGEN converse apart]
+
+BELARIUS	Is not this boy revived from death?
+
+ARVIRAGUS	One sand another
+	Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad
+	Who died, and was Fidele. What think you?
+
+GUIDERIUS	The same dead thing alive.
+
+BELARIUS	Peace, peace! see further; he eyes us not; forbear;
+	Creatures may be alike: were 't he, I am sure
+	He would have spoke to us.
+
+GUIDERIUS	But we saw him dead.
+
+BELARIUS	Be silent; let's see further.
+
+PISANIO	[Aside]	It is my mistress:
+	Since she is living, let the time run on
+	To good or bad.
+
+	[CYMBELINE and IMOGEN come forward]
+
+CYMBELINE	                  Come, stand thou by our side;
+	Make thy demand aloud.
+
+	[To IACHIMO]
+		  Sir, step you forth;
+	Give answer to this boy, and do it freely;
+	Or, by our greatness and the grace of it,
+	Which is our honour, bitter torture shall
+	Winnow the truth from falsehood. On, speak to him.
+
+IMOGEN	My boon is, that this gentleman may render
+	Of whom he had this ring.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	[Aside]                 What's that to him?
+
+CYMBELINE	That diamond upon your finger, say
+	How came it yours?
+
+IACHIMO	Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that
+	Which, to be spoke, would torture thee.
+
+CYMBELINE	How! me?
+
+IACHIMO	I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that
+	Which torments me to conceal. By villany
+	I got this ring: 'twas Leonatus' jewel;
+	Whom thou didst banish; and--which more may
+	grieve thee,
+	As it doth me--a nobler sir ne'er lived
+	'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord?
+
+CYMBELINE	All that belongs to this.
+
+IACHIMO	That paragon, thy daughter,--
+	For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits
+	Quail to remember--Give me leave; I faint.
+
+CYMBELINE	My daughter! what of her? Renew thy strength:
+	I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will
+	Than die ere I hear more: strive, man, and speak.
+
+IACHIMO	Upon a time,--unhappy was the clock
+	That struck the hour!--it was in Rome,--accursed
+	The mansion where!--'twas at a feast,--O, would
+	Our viands had been poison'd, or at least
+	Those which I heaved to head!--the good Posthumus--
+	What should I say? he was too good to be
+	Where ill men were; and was the best of all
+	Amongst the rarest of good ones,--sitting sadly,
+	Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
+	For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast
+	Of him that best could speak, for feature, laming
+	The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva.
+	Postures beyond brief nature, for condition,
+	A shop of all the qualities that man
+	Loves woman for, besides that hook of wiving,
+	Fairness which strikes the eye--
+
+CYMBELINE	I stand on fire:
+	Come to the matter.
+
+IACHIMO	All too soon I shall,
+	Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Posthumus,
+	Most like a noble lord in love and one
+	That had a royal lover, took his hint;
+	And, not dispraising whom we praised,--therein
+	He was as calm as virtue--he began
+	His mistress' picture; which by his tongue
+	being made,
+	And then a mind put in't, either our brags
+	Were crack'd of kitchen-trolls, or his description
+	Proved us unspeaking sots.
+
+CYMBELINE	Nay, nay, to the purpose.
+
+IACHIMO	Your daughter's chastity--there it begins.
+	He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreams,
+	And she alone were cold: whereat I, wretch,
+	Made scruple of his praise; and wager'd with him
+	Pieces of gold 'gainst this which then he wore
+	Upon his honour'd finger, to attain
+	In suit the place of's bed and win this ring
+	By hers and mine adultery. He, true knight,
+	No lesser of her honour confident
+	Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring;
+	And would so, had it been a carbuncle
+	Of Phoebus' wheel, and might so safely, had it
+	Been all the worth of's car. Away to Britain
+	Post I in this design: well may you, sir,
+	Remember me at court; where I was taught
+	Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
+	'Twixt amorous and villanous. Being thus quench'd
+	Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
+	'Gan in your duller Britain operate
+	Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent:
+	And, to be brief, my practise so prevail'd,
+	That I return'd with simular proof enough
+	To make the noble Leonatus mad,
+	By wounding his belief in her renown
+	With tokens thus, and thus; averting notes
+	Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet,--
+	O cunning, how I got it!--nay, some marks
+	Of secret on her person, that he could not
+	But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,
+	I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon--
+	Methinks, I see him now--
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	[Advancing]             Ay, so thou dost,
+	Italian fiend! Ay me, most credulous fool,
+	Egregious murderer, thief, any thing
+	That's due to all the villains past, in being,
+	To come! O, give me cord, or knife, or poison,
+	Some upright justicer! Thou, king, send out
+	For torturers ingenious: it is I
+	That all the abhorred things o' the earth amend
+	By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,
+	That kill'd thy daughter:--villain-like, I lie--
+	That caused a lesser villain than myself,
+	A sacrilegious thief, to do't: the temple
+	Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself.
+	Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
+	The dogs o' the street to bay me: every villain
+	Be call'd Posthumus Leonitus; and
+	Be villany less than 'twas! O Imogen!
+	My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen,
+	Imogen, Imogen!
+
+IMOGEN	                  Peace, my lord; hear, hear--
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Shall's have a play of this? Thou scornful page,
+	There lie thy part.
+
+	[Striking her: she falls]
+
+PISANIO	O, gentlemen, help!
+	Mine and your mistress! O, my lord Posthumus!
+	You ne'er kill'd Imogen til now. Help, help!
+	Mine honour'd lady!
+
+CYMBELINE	Does the world go round?
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	How come these staggers on me?
+
+PISANIO	Wake, my mistress!
+
+CYMBELINE	If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me
+	To death with mortal joy.
+
+PISANIO	How fares thy mistress?
+
+IMOGEN	O, get thee from my sight;
+	Thou gavest me poison: dangerous fellow, hence!
+	Breathe not where princes are.
+
+CYMBELINE	The tune of Imogen!
+
+PISANIO	Lady,
+	The gods throw stones of sulphur on me, if
+	That box I gave you was not thought by me
+	A precious thing: I had it from the queen.
+
+CYMBELINE	New matter still?
+
+IMOGEN	                  It poison'd me.
+
+CORNELIUS	O gods!
+	I left out one thing which the queen confess'd.
+	Which must approve thee honest: 'If Pisanio
+	Have,' said she, 'given his mistress that confection
+	Which I gave him for cordial, she is served
+	As I would serve a rat.'
+
+CYMBELINE	What's this, Comelius?
+
+CORNELIUS	The queen, sir, very oft importuned me
+	To temper poisons for her, still pretending
+	The satisfaction of her knowledge only
+	In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs,
+	Of no esteem: I, dreading that her purpose
+	Was of more danger, did compound for her
+	A certain stuff, which, being ta'en, would cease
+	The present power of life, but in short time
+	All offices of nature should again
+	Do their due functions. Have you ta'en of it?
+
+IMOGEN	Most like I did, for I was dead.
+
+BELARIUS	My boys,
+	There was our error.
+
+GUIDERIUS	This is, sure, Fidele.
+
+IMOGEN	Why did you throw your wedded lady from you?
+	Think that you are upon a rock; and now
+	Throw me again.
+
+	[Embracing him]
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Hang there like a fruit, my soul,
+	Till the tree die!
+
+CYMBELINE	                  How now, my flesh, my child!
+	What, makest thou me a dullard in this act?
+	Wilt thou not speak to me?
+
+IMOGEN	[Kneeling]               Your blessing, sir.
+
+BELARIUS	[To GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS]  Though you did love
+	this youth, I blame ye not:
+	You had a motive for't.
+
+CYMBELINE	My tears that fall
+	Prove holy water on thee! Imogen,
+	Thy mother's dead.
+
+IMOGEN	I am sorry for't, my lord.
+
+CYMBELINE	O, she was nought; and long of her it was
+	That we meet here so strangely: but her son
+	Is gone, we know not how nor where.
+
+PISANIO	My lord,
+	Now fear is from me, I'll speak troth. Lord Cloten,
+	Upon my lady's missing, came to me
+	With his sword drawn; foam'd at the mouth, and swore,
+	If I discover'd not which way she was gone,
+	It was my instant death. By accident,
+	had a feigned letter of my master's
+	Then in my pocket; which directed him
+	To seek her on the mountains near to Milford;
+	Where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments,
+	Which he enforced from me, away he posts
+	With unchaste purpose and with oath to violate
+	My lady's honour: what became of him
+	I further know not.
+
+GUIDERIUS	Let me end the story:
+	I slew him there.
+
+CYMBELINE	Marry, the gods forfend!
+	I would not thy good deeds should from my lips
+	Pluck a bard sentence: prithee, valiant youth,
+	Deny't again.
+
+GUIDERIUS	                  I have spoke it, and I did it.
+
+CYMBELINE	He was a prince.
+
+GUIDERIUS	A most incivil one: the wrongs he did me
+	Were nothing prince-like; for he did provoke me
+	With language that would make me spurn the sea,
+	If it could so roar to me: I cut off's head;
+	And am right glad he is not standing here
+	To tell this tale of mine.
+
+CYMBELINE	I am sorry for thee:
+	By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and must
+	Endure our law: thou'rt dead.
+
+IMOGEN	That headless man
+	I thought had been my lord.
+
+CYMBELINE	Bind the offender,
+	And take him from our presence.
+
+BELARIUS	Stay, sir king:
+	This man is better than the man he slew,
+	As well descended as thyself; and hath
+	More of thee merited than a band of Clotens
+	Had ever scar for.
+
+	[To the Guard]
+
+	Let his arms alone;
+	They were not born for bondage.
+
+CYMBELINE	Why, old soldier,
+	Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for,
+	By tasting of our wrath? How of descent
+	As good as we?
+
+ARVIRAGUS	                  In that he spake too far.
+
+CYMBELINE	And thou shalt die for't.
+
+BELARIUS	We will die all three:
+	But I will prove that two on's are as good
+	As I have given out him. My sons, I must,
+	For mine own part, unfold a dangerous speech,
+	Though, haply, well for you.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Your danger's ours.
+
+GUIDERIUS	And our good his.
+
+BELARIUS	                  Have at it then, by leave.
+	Thou hadst, great king, a subject who
+	Was call'd Belarius.
+
+CYMBELINE	What of him? he is
+	A banish'd traitor.
+
+BELARIUS	He it is that hath
+	Assumed this age; indeed a banish'd man;
+	I know not how a traitor.
+
+CYMBELINE	Take him hence:
+	The whole world shall not save him.
+
+BELARIUS	Not too hot:
+	First pay me for the nursing of thy sons;
+	And let it be confiscate all, so soon
+	As I have received it.
+
+CYMBELINE	Nursing of my sons!
+
+BELARIUS	I am too blunt and saucy: here's my knee:
+	Ere I arise, I will prefer my sons;
+	Then spare not the old father. Mighty sir,
+	These two young gentlemen, that call me father
+	And think they are my sons, are none of mine;
+	They are the issue of your loins, my liege,
+	And blood of your begetting.
+
+CYMBELINE	How! my issue!
+
+BELARIUS	So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan,
+	Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd:
+	Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment
+	Itself, and all my treason; that I suffer'd
+	Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes--
+	For such and so they are--these twenty years
+	Have I train'd up: those arts they have as I
+	Could put into them; my breeding was, sir, as
+	Your highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile,
+	Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children
+	Upon my banishment: I moved her to't,
+	Having received the punishment before,
+	For that which I did then: beaten for loyalty
+	Excited me to treason: their dear loss,
+	The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shaped
+	Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir,
+	Here are your sons again; and I must lose
+	Two of the sweet'st companions in the world.
+	The benediction of these covering heavens
+	Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy
+	To inlay heaven with stars.
+
+CYMBELINE	Thou weep'st, and speak'st.
+	The service that you three have done is more
+	Unlike than this thou tell'st. I lost my children:
+	If these be they, I know not how to wish
+	A pair of worthier sons.
+
+BELARIUS	Be pleased awhile.
+	This gentleman, whom I call Polydore,
+	Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius:
+	This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus,
+	Your younger princely son; he, sir, was lapp'd
+	In a most curious mantle, wrought by the hand
+	Of his queen mother, which for more probation
+	I can with ease produce.
+
+CYMBELINE	Guiderius had
+	Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star;
+	It was a mark of wonder.
+
+BELARIUS	This is he;
+	Who hath upon him still that natural stamp:
+	It was wise nature's end in the donation,
+	To be his evidence now.
+
+CYMBELINE	O, what, am I
+	A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother
+	Rejoiced deliverance more. Blest pray you be,
+	That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
+	may reign in them now! O Imogen,
+	Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.
+
+IMOGEN	No, my lord;
+	I have got two worlds by 't. O my gentle brothers,
+	Have we thus met? O, never say hereafter
+	But I am truest speaker you call'd me brother,
+	When I was but your sister; I you brothers,
+	When ye were so indeed.
+
+CYMBELINE	Did you e'er meet?
+
+ARVIRAGUS	Ay, my good lord.
+
+GUIDERIUS	                  And at first meeting loved;
+	Continued so, until we thought he died.
+
+CORNELIUS	By the queen's dram she swallow'd.
+
+CYMBELINE	O rare instinct!
+	When shall I hear all through? This fierce
+	abridgement
+	Hath to it circumstantial branches, which
+	Distinction should be rich in. Where? how lived You?
+	And when came you to serve our Roman captive?
+	How parted with your brothers? how first met them?
+	Why fled you from the court? and whither? These,
+	And your three motives to the battle, with
+	I know not how much more, should be demanded;
+	And all the other by-dependencies,
+	From chance to chance: but nor the time nor place
+	Will serve our long inter'gatories. See,
+	Posthumus anchors upon Imogen,
+	And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
+	On him, her brother, me, her master, hitting
+	Each object with a joy: the counterchange
+	Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground,
+	And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.
+
+	[To BELARIUS]
+
+	Thou art my brother; so we'll hold thee ever.
+
+IMOGEN	You are my father too, and did relieve me,
+	To see this gracious season.
+
+CYMBELINE	All o'erjoy'd,
+	Save these in bonds: let them be joyful too,
+	For they shall taste our comfort.
+
+IMOGEN	My good master,
+	I will yet do you service.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Happy be you!
+
+CYMBELINE	The forlorn soldier, that so nobly fought,
+	He would have well becomed this place, and graced
+	The thankings of a king.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	I am, sir,
+	The soldier that did company these three
+	In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for
+	The purpose I then follow'd. That I was he,
+	Speak, Iachimo: I had you down and might
+	Have made you finish.
+
+IACHIMO	[Kneeling]          I am down again:
+	But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee,
+	As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you,
+	Which I so often owe: but your ring first;
+	And here the bracelet of the truest princess
+	That ever swore her faith.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Kneel not to me:
+	The power that I have on you is, to spare you;
+	The malice towards you to forgive you: live,
+	And deal with others better.
+
+CYMBELINE	Nobly doom'd!
+	We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law;
+	Pardon's the word to all.
+
+ARVIRAGUS	You holp us, sir,
+	As you did mean indeed to be our brother;
+	Joy'd are we that you are.
+
+POSTHUMUS LEONATUS	Your servant, princes. Good my lord of Rome,
+	Call forth your soothsayer: as I slept, methought
+	Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back'd,
+	Appear'd to me, with other spritely shows
+	Of mine own kindred: when I waked, I found
+	This label on my bosom; whose containing
+	Is so from sense in hardness, that I can
+	Make no collection of it: let him show
+	His skill in the construction.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Philarmonus!
+
+Soothsayer	Here, my good lord.
+
+CAIUS LUCIUS	Read, and declare the meaning.
+
+Soothsayer	[Reads]  'When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself
+	unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced by a
+	piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar
+	shall be lopped branches, which, being dead many
+	years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old
+	stock, and freshly grow; then shall Posthumus end
+	his miseries, Britain be fortunate and flourish in
+	peace and plenty.'
+	Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;
+	The fit and apt construction of thy name,
+	Being Leonatus, doth import so much.
+
+	[To CYMBELINE]
+
+	The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
+	Which we call 'mollis aer;' and 'mollis aer'
+	We term it 'mulier:' which 'mulier' I divine
+	Is this most constant wife; who, even now,
+	Answering the letter of the oracle,
+	Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'd about
+	With this most tender air.
+
+CYMBELINE	This hath some seeming.
+
+Soothsayer	The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
+	Personates thee: and thy lopp'd branches point
+	Thy two sons forth; who, by Belarius stol'n,
+	For many years thought dead, are now revived,
+	To the majestic cedar join'd, whose issue
+	Promises Britain peace and plenty.
+
+CYMBELINE	Well
+	My peace we will begin. And, Caius Lucius,
+	Although the victor, we submit to Caesar,
+	And to the Roman empire; promising
+	To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
+	We were dissuaded by our wicked queen;
+	Whom heavens, in justice, both on her and hers,
+	Have laid most heavy hand.
+
+Soothsayer	The fingers of the powers above do tune
+	The harmony of this peace. The vision
+	Which I made known to Lucius, ere the stroke
+	Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant
+	Is full accomplish'd; for the Roman eagle,
+	From south to west on wing soaring aloft,
+	Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o' the sun
+	So vanish'd: which foreshow'd our princely eagle,
+	The imperial Caesar, should again unite
+	His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
+	Which shines here in the west.
+
+CYMBELINE	Laud we the gods;
+	And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
+	From our blest altars. Publish we this peace
+	To all our subjects. Set we forward: let
+	A Roman and a British ensign wave
+	Friendly together: so through Lud's-town march:
+	And in the temple of great Jupiter
+	Our peace we'll ratify; seal it with feasts.
+	Set on there! Never was a war did cease,
+	Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a peace.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+FERDINAND	king of Navarre.
+
+
+BIRON	|
+	|
+LONGAVILLE	|  lords attending on the King.
+	|
+DUMAIN	|
+
+
+BOYET	|
+	|  lords attending on the Princess of France.
+MERCADE	|
+
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	a fantastical Spaniard.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	a curate.
+
+HOLOFERNES	a schoolmaster.
+
+DULL	a constable.
+
+COSTARD	a clown.
+
+MOTH	page to Armado.
+
+	A Forester.
+
+	The PRINCESS of France: (PRINCESS:)
+
+
+ROSALINE	|
+	|
+MARIA	|  ladies attending on the Princess.
+	|
+KATHARINE	|
+
+
+JAQUENETTA	a country wench.
+
+	Lords, Attendants, &c.
+	(First Lord:)
+
+
+SCENE	Navarre.
+
+
+
+
+	LOVE'S LABOURS LOST
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The king of Navarre's park.
+
+
+	[Enter FERDINAND king of Navarre, BIRON, LONGAVILLE
+	and DUMAIN]
+
+FERDINAND	Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives,
+	Live register'd upon our brazen tombs
+	And then grace us in the disgrace of death;
+	When, spite of cormorant devouring Time,
+	The endeavor of this present breath may buy
+	That honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge
+	And make us heirs of all eternity.
+	Therefore, brave conquerors,--for so you are,
+	That war against your own affections
+	And the huge army of the world's desires,--
+	Our late edict shall strongly stand in force:
+	Navarre shall be the wonder of the world;
+	Our court shall be a little Academe,
+	Still and contemplative in living art.
+	You three, Biron, Dumain, and Longaville,
+	Have sworn for three years' term to live with me
+	My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes
+	That are recorded in this schedule here:
+	Your oaths are pass'd; and now subscribe your names,
+	That his own hand may strike his honour down
+	That violates the smallest branch herein:
+	If you are arm'd to do as sworn to do,
+	Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep it too.
+
+LONGAVILLE	I am resolved; 'tis but a three years' fast:
+	The mind shall banquet, though the body pine:
+	Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits
+	Make rich the ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits.
+
+DUMAIN	My loving lord, Dumain is mortified:
+	The grosser manner of these world's delights
+	He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves:
+	To love, to wealth, to pomp, I pine and die;
+	With all these living in philosophy.
+
+BIRON	I can but say their protestation over;
+	So much, dear liege, I have already sworn,
+	That is, to live and study here three years.
+	But there are other strict observances;
+	As, not to see a woman in that term,
+	Which I hope well is not enrolled there;
+	And one day in a week to touch no food
+	And but one meal on every day beside,
+	The which I hope is not enrolled there;
+	And then, to sleep but three hours in the night,
+	And not be seen to wink of all the day--
+	When I was wont to think no harm all night
+	And make a dark night too of half the day--
+	Which I hope well is not enrolled there:
+	O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep,
+	Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep!
+
+FERDINAND	Your oath is pass'd to pass away from these.
+
+BIRON	Let me say no, my liege, an if you please:
+	I only swore to study with your grace
+	And stay here in your court for three years' space.
+
+LONGAVILLE	You swore to that, Biron, and to the rest.
+
+BIRON	By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest.
+	What is the end of study? let me know.
+
+FERDINAND	Why, that to know, which else we should not know.
+
+BIRON	Things hid and barr'd, you mean, from common sense?
+
+FERDINAND	Ay, that is study's godlike recompense.
+
+BIRON	Come on, then; I will swear to study so,
+	To know the thing I am forbid to know:
+	As thus,--to study where I well may dine,
+	When I to feast expressly am forbid;
+	Or study where to meet some mistress fine,
+	When mistresses from common sense are hid;
+	Or, having sworn too hard a keeping oath,
+	Study to break it and not break my troth.
+	If study's gain be thus and this be so,
+	Study knows that which yet it doth not know:
+	Swear me to this, and I will ne'er say no.
+
+FERDINAND	These be the stops that hinder study quite
+	And train our intellects to vain delight.
+
+BIRON	Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain,
+	Which with pain purchased doth inherit pain:
+	As, painfully to pore upon a book
+	To seek the light of truth; while truth the while
+	Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look:
+	Light seeking light doth light of light beguile:
+	So, ere you find where light in darkness lies,
+	Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.
+	Study me how to please the eye indeed
+	By fixing it upon a fairer eye,
+	Who dazzling so, that eye shall be his heed
+	And give him light that it was blinded by.
+	Study is like the heaven's glorious sun
+	That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks:
+	Small have continual plodders ever won
+	Save base authority from others' books
+	These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights
+	That give a name to every fixed star
+	Have no more profit of their shining nights
+	Than those that walk and wot not what they are.
+	Too much to know is to know nought but fame;
+	And every godfather can give a name.
+
+FERDINAND	How well he's read, to reason against reading!
+
+DUMAIN	Proceeded well, to stop all good proceeding!
+
+LONGAVILLE	He weeds the corn and still lets grow the weeding.
+
+BIRON	The spring is near when green geese are a-breeding.
+
+DUMAIN	How follows that?
+
+BIRON	                  Fit in his place and time.
+
+DUMAIN	In reason nothing.
+
+BIRON	                  Something then in rhyme.
+
+FERDINAND	Biron is like an envious sneaping frost,
+	That bites the first-born infants of the spring.
+
+BIRON	Well, say I am; why should proud summer boast
+	Before the birds have any cause to sing?
+	Why should I joy in any abortive birth?
+	At Christmas I no more desire a rose
+	Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth;
+	But like of each thing that in season grows.
+	So you, to study now it is too late,
+	Climb o'er the house to unlock the little gate.
+
+FERDINAND	Well, sit you out: go home, Biron: adieu.
+
+BIRON	No, my good lord; I have sworn to stay with you:
+	And though I have for barbarism spoke more
+	Than for that angel knowledge you can say,
+	Yet confident I'll keep what I have swore
+	And bide the penance of each three years' day.
+	Give me the paper; let me read the same;
+	And to the strict'st decrees I'll write my name.
+
+FERDINAND	How well this yielding rescues thee from shame!
+
+BIRON	[Reads]  'Item, That no woman shall come within a
+	mile of my court:' Hath this been proclaimed?
+
+LONGAVILLE	Four days ago.
+
+BIRON	Let's see the penalty.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'On pain of losing her tongue.' Who devised this penalty?
+
+LONGAVILLE	Marry, that did I.
+
+BIRON	Sweet lord, and why?
+
+LONGAVILLE	To fright them hence with that dread penalty.
+
+BIRON	A dangerous law against gentility!
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman
+	within the term of three years, he shall endure such
+	public shame as the rest of the court can possibly devise.'
+	This article, my liege, yourself must break;
+	For well you know here comes in embassy
+	The French king's daughter with yourself to speak--
+	A maid of grace and complete majesty--
+	About surrender up of Aquitaine
+	To her decrepit, sick and bedrid father:
+	Therefore this article is made in vain,
+	Or vainly comes the admired princess hither.
+
+FERDINAND	What say you, lords? Why, this was quite forgot.
+
+BIRON	So study evermore is overshot:
+	While it doth study to have what it would
+	It doth forget to do the thing it should,
+	And when it hath the thing it hunteth most,
+	'Tis won as towns with fire, so won, so lost.
+
+FERDINAND	We must of force dispense with this decree;
+	She must lie here on mere necessity.
+
+BIRON	Necessity will make us all forsworn
+	Three thousand times within this three years' space;
+	For every man with his affects is born,
+	Not by might master'd but by special grace:
+	If I break faith, this word shall speak for me;
+	I am forsworn on 'mere necessity.'
+	So to the laws at large I write my name:
+
+	[Subscribes]
+
+	And he that breaks them in the least degree
+	Stands in attainder of eternal shame:
+	Suggestions are to other as to me;
+	But I believe, although I seem so loath,
+	I am the last that will last keep his oath.
+	But is there no quick recreation granted?
+
+FERDINAND	Ay, that there is. Our court, you know, is haunted
+	With a refined traveller of Spain;
+	A man in all the world's new fashion planted,
+	That hath a mint of phrases in his brain;
+	One whom the music of his own vain tongue
+	Doth ravish like enchanting harmony;
+	A man of complements, whom right and wrong
+	Have chose as umpire of their mutiny:
+	This child of fancy, that Armado hight,
+	For interim to our studies shall relate
+	In high-born words the worth of many a knight
+	From tawny Spain lost in the world's debate.
+	How you delight, my lords, I know not, I;
+	But, I protest, I love to hear him lie
+	And I will use him for my minstrelsy.
+
+BIRON	Armado is a most illustrious wight,
+	A man of fire-new words, fashion's own knight.
+
+LONGAVILLE	Costard the swain and he shall be our sport;
+	And so to study, three years is but short.
+
+	[Enter DULL with a letter, and COSTARD]
+
+DULL	Which is the duke's own person?
+
+BIRON	This, fellow: what wouldst?
+
+DULL	I myself reprehend his own person, for I am his
+	grace's tharborough: but I would see his own person
+	in flesh and blood.
+
+BIRON	This is he.
+
+DULL	Signior Arme--Arme--commends you. There's villany
+	abroad: this letter will tell you more.
+
+COSTARD	Sir, the contempts thereof are as touching me.
+
+FERDINAND	A letter from the magnificent Armado.
+
+BIRON	How low soever the matter, I hope in God for high words.
+
+LONGAVILLE	A high hope for a low heaven: God grant us patience!
+
+BIRON	To hear? or forbear laughing?
+
+LONGAVILLE	To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moderately; or to
+	forbear both.
+
+BIRON	Well, sir, be it as the style shall give us cause to
+	climb in the merriness.
+
+COSTARD	The matter is to me, sir, as concerning Jaquenetta.
+	The manner of it is, I was taken with the manner.
+
+BIRON	In what manner?
+
+COSTARD	In manner and form following, sir; all those three:
+	I was seen with her in the manor-house, sitting with
+	her upon the form, and taken following her into the
+	park; which, put together, is in manner and form
+	following. Now, sir, for the manner,--it is the
+	manner of a man to speak to a woman: for the form,--
+	in some form.
+
+BIRON	For the following, sir?
+
+COSTARD	As it shall follow in my correction: and God defend
+	the right!
+
+FERDINAND	Will you hear this letter with attention?
+
+BIRON	As we would hear an oracle.
+
+COSTARD	Such is the simplicity of man to hearken after the flesh.
+
+FERDINAND	[Reads]  'Great deputy, the welkin's vicegerent and
+	sole dominator of Navarre, my soul's earth's god,
+	and body's fostering patron.'
+
+COSTARD	Not a word of Costard yet.
+
+FERDINAND	[Reads]  'So it is,'--
+
+COSTARD	It may be so: but if he say it is so, he is, in
+	telling true, but so.
+
+FERDINAND	Peace!
+
+COSTARD	Be to me and every man that dares not fight!
+
+FERDINAND	No words!
+
+COSTARD	Of other men's secrets, I beseech you.
+
+FERDINAND	[Reads]  'So it is, besieged with sable-coloured
+	melancholy, I did commend the black-oppressing humour
+	to the most wholesome physic of thy health-giving
+	air; and, as I am a gentleman, betook myself to
+	walk. The time when. About the sixth hour; when
+	beasts most graze, birds best peck, and men sit down
+	to that nourishment which is called supper: so much
+	for the time when. Now for the ground which; which,
+	I mean, I walked upon: it is y-cleped thy park. Then
+	for the place where; where, I mean, I did encounter
+	that obscene and preposterous event, that draweth
+	from my snow-white pen the ebon-coloured ink, which
+	here thou viewest, beholdest, surveyest, or seest;
+	but to the place where; it standeth north-north-east
+	and by east from the west corner of thy curious-
+	knotted garden: there did I see that low-spirited
+	swain, that base minnow of thy mirth,'--
+
+COSTARD	Me?
+
+FERDINAND	[Reads]  'that unlettered small-knowing soul,'--
+
+COSTARD	Me?
+
+FERDINAND	[Reads]  'that shallow vassal,'--
+
+COSTARD	Still me?
+
+FERDINAND	[Reads]  'which, as I remember, hight Costard,'--
+
+COSTARD	O, me!
+
+FERDINAND	[Reads]  'sorted and consorted, contrary to thy
+	established proclaimed edict and continent canon,
+	which with,--O, with--but with this I passion to say
+	wherewith,--
+
+COSTARD	With a wench.
+
+FERDINAND	[Reads]  'with a child of our grandmother Eve, a
+	female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a
+	woman. Him I, as my ever-esteemed duty pricks me on,
+	have sent to thee, to receive the meed of
+	punishment, by thy sweet grace's officer, Anthony
+	Dull; a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and
+	estimation.'
+
+DULL	'Me, an't shall please you; I am Anthony Dull.
+
+FERDINAND	[Reads]  'For Jaquenetta,--so is the weaker vessel
+	called which I apprehended with the aforesaid
+	swain,--I keep her as a vessel of the law's fury;
+	and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring
+	her to trial. Thine, in all compliments of devoted
+	and heart-burning heat of duty.
+		        DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.'
+
+BIRON	This is not so well as I looked for, but the best
+	that ever I heard.
+
+FERDINAND	Ay, the best for the worst. But, sirrah, what say
+	you to this?
+
+COSTARD	Sir, I confess the wench.
+
+FERDINAND	Did you hear the proclamation?
+
+COSTARD	I do confess much of the hearing it but little of
+	the marking of it.
+
+FERDINAND	It was proclaimed a year's imprisonment, to be taken
+	with a wench.
+
+COSTARD	I was taken with none, sir: I was taken with a damsel.
+
+FERDINAND	Well, it was proclaimed 'damsel.'
+
+COSTARD	This was no damsel, neither, sir; she was a virgin.
+
+FERDINAND	It is so varied, too; for it was proclaimed 'virgin.'
+
+COSTARD	If it were, I deny her virginity: I was taken with a maid.
+
+FERDINAND	This maid will not serve your turn, sir.
+
+COSTARD	This maid will serve my turn, sir.
+
+FERDINAND	Sir, I will pronounce your sentence: you shall fast
+	a week with bran and water.
+
+COSTARD	I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge.
+
+FERDINAND	And Don Armado shall be your keeper.
+	My Lord Biron, see him deliver'd o'er:
+	And go we, lords, to put in practise that
+	Which each to other hath so strongly sworn.
+
+	[Exeunt FERDINAND, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN]
+
+BIRON	I'll lay my head to any good man's hat,
+	These oaths and laws will prove an idle scorn.
+	Sirrah, come on.
+
+COSTARD	I suffer for the truth, sir; for true it is, I was
+	taken with Jaquenetta, and Jaquenetta is a true
+	girl; and therefore welcome the sour cup of
+	prosperity! Affliction may one day smile again; and
+	till then, sit thee down, sorrow!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	LOVE'S LABOURS LOST
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO and MOTH]
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit
+	grows melancholy?
+
+MOTH	A great sign, sir, that he will look sad.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Why, sadness is one and the self-same thing, dear imp.
+
+MOTH	No, no; O Lord, sir, no.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my
+	tender juvenal?
+
+MOTH	By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough senior.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Why tough senior? why tough senior?
+
+MOTH	Why tender juvenal? why tender juvenal?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton
+	appertaining to thy young days, which we may
+	nominate tender.
+
+MOTH	And I, tough senior, as an appertinent title to your
+	old time, which we may name tough.
+
+DON ADRIANO DE
+ARMADO	Pretty and apt.
+
+MOTH	How mean you, sir? I pretty, and my saying apt? or
+	I apt, and my saying pretty?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Thou pretty, because little.
+
+MOTH	Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	And therefore apt, because quick.
+
+MOTH	Speak you this in my praise, master?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	In thy condign praise.
+
+MOTH	I will praise an eel with the same praise.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	What, that an eel is ingenious?
+
+MOTH	That an eel is quick.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I do say thou art quick in answers: thou heatest my blood.
+
+MOTH	I am answered, sir.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I love not to be crossed.
+
+MOTH	[Aside]  He speaks the mere contrary; crosses love not him.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I have promised to study three years with the duke.
+
+MOTH	You may do it in an hour, sir.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Impossible.
+
+MOTH	How many is one thrice told?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I am ill at reckoning; it fitteth the spirit of a tapster.
+
+MOTH	You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I confess both: they are both the varnish of a
+	complete man.
+
+MOTH	Then, I am sure, you know how much the gross sum of
+	deuce-ace amounts to.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	It doth amount to one more than two.
+
+MOTH	Which the base vulgar do call three.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	True.
+
+MOTH	Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here
+	is three studied, ere ye'll thrice wink: and how
+	easy it is to put 'years' to the word 'three,' and
+	study three years in two words, the dancing horse
+	will tell you.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	A most fine figure!
+
+MOTH	To prove you a cipher.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I will hereupon confess I am in love: and as it is
+	base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a
+	base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour
+	of affection would deliver me from the reprobate
+	thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and
+	ransom him to any French courtier for a new-devised
+	courtesy. I think scorn to sigh: methinks I should
+	outswear Cupid. Comfort, me, boy: what great men
+	have been in love?
+
+MOTH	Hercules, master.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name
+	more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good
+	repute and carriage.
+
+MOTH	Samson, master: he was a man of good carriage, great
+	carriage, for he carried the town-gates on his back
+	like a porter: and he was in love.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	O well-knit Samson! strong-jointed Samson! I do
+	excel thee in my rapier as much as thou didst me in
+	carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Samson's
+	love, my dear Moth?
+
+MOTH	A woman, master.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Of what complexion?
+
+MOTH	Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Tell me precisely of what complexion.
+
+MOTH	Of the sea-water green, sir.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Is that one of the four complexions?
+
+MOTH	As I have read, sir; and the best of them too.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Green indeed is the colour of lovers; but to have a
+	love of that colour, methinks Samson had small reason
+	for it. He surely affected her for her wit.
+
+MOTH	It was so, sir; for she had a green wit.
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	My love is most immaculate white and red.
+
+MOTH	Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under
+	such colours.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Define, define, well-educated infant.
+
+MOTH	My father's wit and my mother's tongue, assist me!
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sweet invocation of a child; most pretty and
+	pathetical!
+
+MOTH	     If she be made of white and red,
+	Her faults will ne'er be known,
+	For blushing cheeks by faults are bred
+	And fears by pale white shown:
+	Then if she fear, or be to blame,
+	By this you shall not know,
+	For still her cheeks possess the same
+	Which native she doth owe.
+	A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of
+	white and red.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar?
+
+MOTH	The world was very guilty of such a ballad some
+	three ages since: but I think now 'tis not to be
+	found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for
+	the writing nor the tune.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I will have that subject newly writ o'er, that I may
+	example my digression by some mighty precedent.
+	Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the
+	park with the rational hind Costard: she deserves well.
+
+MOTH	[Aside]  To be whipped; and yet a better love than
+	my master.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sing, boy; my spirit grows heavy in love.
+
+MOTH	And that's great marvel, loving a light wench.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I say, sing.
+
+MOTH	Forbear till this company be past.
+
+	[Enter DULL, COSTARD, and JAQUENETTA]
+
+DULL	Sir, the duke's pleasure is, that you keep Costard
+	safe: and you must suffer him to take no delight
+	nor no penance; but a' must fast three days a week.
+	For this damsel, I must keep her at the park: she
+	is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I do betray myself with blushing. Maid!
+
+JAQUENETTA	Man?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I will visit thee at the lodge.
+
+JAQUENETTA	That's hereby.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I know where it is situate.
+
+JAQUENETTA	Lord, how wise you are!
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I will tell thee wonders.
+
+JAQUENETTA	With that face?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I love thee.
+
+JAQUENETTA	So I heard you say.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	And so, farewell.
+
+JAQUENETTA	Fair weather after you!
+
+DULL	Come, Jaquenetta, away!
+
+	[Exeunt DULL and JAQUENETTA]
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou
+	be pardoned.
+
+COSTARD	Well, sir, I hope, when I do it, I shall do it on a
+	full stomach.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Thou shalt be heavily punished.
+
+COSTARD	I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they
+	are but lightly rewarded.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Take away this villain; shut him up.
+
+MOTH	Come, you transgressing slave; away!
+
+COSTARD	Let me not be pent up, sir: I will fast, being loose.
+
+MOTH	No, sir; that were fast and loose: thou shalt to prison.
+
+COSTARD	Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation
+	that I have seen, some shall see.
+
+MOTH	What shall some see?
+
+COSTARD	Nay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look upon.
+	It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their
+	words; and therefore I will say nothing: I thank
+	God I have as little patience as another man; and
+	therefore I can be quiet.
+
+	[Exeunt MOTH and COSTARD]
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I do affect the very ground, which is base, where
+	her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which
+	is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn, which
+	is a great argument of falsehood, if I love. And
+	how can that be true love which is falsely
+	attempted? Love is a familiar; Love is a devil:
+	there is no evil angel but Love. Yet was Samson so
+	tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was
+	Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit.
+	Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club;
+	and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier.
+	The first and second cause will not serve my turn;
+	the passado he respects not, the duello he regards
+	not: his disgrace is to be called boy; but his
+	glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust rapier!
+	be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea,
+	he loveth. Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme,
+	for I am sure I shall turn sonnet. Devise, wit;
+	write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	LOVE'S LABOURS LOST
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter the PRINCESS of France, ROSALINE, MARIA,
+	KATHARINE, BOYET, Lords, and other Attendants]
+
+BOYET	Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits:
+	Consider who the king your father sends,
+	To whom he sends, and what's his embassy:
+	Yourself, held precious in the world's esteem,
+	To parley with the sole inheritor
+	Of all perfections that a man may owe,
+	Matchless Navarre; the plea of no less weight
+	Than Aquitaine, a dowry for a queen.
+	Be now as prodigal of all dear grace
+	As Nature was in making graces dear
+	When she did starve the general world beside
+	And prodigally gave them all to you.
+
+PRINCESS	Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,
+	Needs not the painted flourish of your praise:
+	Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye,
+	Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues:
+	I am less proud to hear you tell my worth
+	Than you much willing to be counted wise
+	In spending your wit in the praise of mine.
+	But now to task the tasker: good Boyet,
+	You are not ignorant, all-telling fame
+	Doth noise abroad, Navarre hath made a vow,
+	Till painful study shall outwear three years,
+	No woman may approach his silent court:
+	Therefore to's seemeth it a needful course,
+	Before we enter his forbidden gates,
+	To know his pleasure; and in that behalf,
+	Bold of your worthiness, we single you
+	As our best-moving fair solicitor.
+	Tell him, the daughter of the King of France,
+	On serious business, craving quick dispatch,
+	Importunes personal conference with his grace:
+	Haste, signify so much; while we attend,
+	Like humble-visaged suitors, his high will.
+
+BOYET	Proud of employment, willingly I go.
+
+PRINCESS	All pride is willing pride, and yours is so.
+
+	[Exit BOYET]
+
+	Who are the votaries, my loving lords,
+	That are vow-fellows with this virtuous duke?
+
+First Lord	Lord Longaville is one.
+
+PRINCESS	Know you the man?
+
+MARIA	I know him, madam: at a marriage-feast,
+	Between Lord Perigort and the beauteous heir
+	Of Jaques Falconbridge, solemnized
+	In Normandy, saw I this Longaville:
+	A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd;
+	Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms:
+	Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.
+	The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss,
+	If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil,
+	Is a sharp wit matched with too blunt a will;
+	Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills
+	It should none spare that come within his power.
+
+PRINCESS	Some merry mocking lord, belike; is't so?
+
+MARIA	They say so most that most his humours know.
+
+PRINCESS	Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow.
+	Who are the rest?
+
+KATHARINE	The young Dumain, a well-accomplished youth,
+	Of all that virtue love for virtue loved:
+	Most power to do most harm, least knowing ill;
+	For he hath wit to make an ill shape good,
+	And shape to win grace though he had no wit.
+	I saw him at the Duke Alencon's once;
+	And much too little of that good I saw
+	Is my report to his great worthiness.
+
+ROSALINE	Another of these students at that time
+	Was there with him, if I have heard a truth.
+	Biron they call him; but a merrier man,
+	Within the limit of becoming mirth,
+	I never spent an hour's talk withal:
+	His eye begets occasion for his wit;
+	For every object that the one doth catch
+	The other turns to a mirth-moving jest,
+	Which his fair tongue, conceit's expositor,
+	Delivers in such apt and gracious words
+	That aged ears play truant at his tales
+	And younger hearings are quite ravished;
+	So sweet and voluble is his discourse.
+
+PRINCESS	God bless my ladies! are they all in love,
+	That every one her own hath garnished
+	With such bedecking ornaments of praise?
+
+First Lord	Here comes Boyet.
+
+	[Re-enter BOYET]
+
+PRINCESS	Now, what admittance, lord?
+
+BOYET	Navarre had notice of your fair approach;
+	And he and his competitors in oath
+	Were all address'd to meet you, gentle lady,
+	Before I came. Marry, thus much I have learnt:
+	He rather means to lodge you in the field,
+	Like one that comes here to besiege his court,
+	Than seek a dispensation for his oath,
+	To let you enter his unpeopled house.
+	Here comes Navarre.
+
+	[Enter FERDINAND, LONGAVILLE, DUMAIN, BIRON, and
+	Attendants]
+
+FERDINAND	Fair princess, welcome to the court of Navarre.
+
+PRINCESS	'Fair' I give you back again; and 'welcome' I have
+	not yet: the roof of this court is too high to be
+	yours; and welcome to the wide fields too base to be mine.
+
+FERDINAND	You shall be welcome, madam, to my court.
+
+PRINCESS	I will be welcome, then: conduct me thither.
+
+FERDINAND	Hear me, dear lady; I have sworn an oath.
+
+PRINCESS	Our Lady help my lord! he'll be forsworn.
+
+FERDINAND	Not for the world, fair madam, by my will.
+
+PRINCESS	Why, will shall break it; will and nothing else.
+
+FERDINAND	Your ladyship is ignorant what it is.
+
+PRINCESS	Were my lord so, his ignorance were wise,
+	Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance.
+	I hear your grace hath sworn out house-keeping:
+	Tis deadly sin to keep that oath, my lord,
+	And sin to break it.
+	But pardon me. I am too sudden-bold:
+	To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.
+	Vouchsafe to read the purpose of my coming,
+	And suddenly resolve me in my suit.
+
+FERDINAND	Madam, I will, if suddenly I may.
+
+PRINCESS	You will the sooner, that I were away;
+	For you'll prove perjured if you make me stay.
+
+BIRON	Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
+
+ROSALINE	Did not I dance with you in Brabant once?
+
+BIRON	I know you did.
+
+ROSALINE	How needless was it then to ask the question!
+
+BIRON	You must not be so quick.
+
+ROSALINE	'Tis 'long of you that spur me with such questions.
+
+BIRON	Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire.
+
+ROSALINE	Not till it leave the rider in the mire.
+
+BIRON	What time o' day?
+
+ROSALINE	The hour that fools should ask.
+
+BIRON	Now fair befall your mask!
+
+ROSALINE	Fair fall the face it covers!
+
+BIRON	And send you many lovers!
+
+ROSALINE	Amen, so you be none.
+
+BIRON	Nay, then will I be gone.
+
+FERDINAND	Madam, your father here doth intimate
+	The payment of a hundred thousand crowns;
+	Being but the one half of an entire sum
+	Disbursed by my father in his wars.
+	But say that he or we, as neither have,
+	Received that sum, yet there remains unpaid
+	A hundred thousand more; in surety of the which,
+	One part of Aquitaine is bound to us,
+	Although not valued to the money's worth.
+	If then the king your father will restore
+	But that one half which is unsatisfied,
+	We will give up our right in Aquitaine,
+	And hold fair friendship with his majesty.
+	But that, it seems, he little purposeth,
+	For here he doth demand to have repaid
+	A hundred thousand crowns; and not demands,
+	On payment of a hundred thousand crowns,
+	To have his title live in Aquitaine;
+	Which we much rather had depart withal
+	And have the money by our father lent
+	Than Aquitaine so gelded as it is.
+	Dear Princess, were not his requests so far
+	From reason's yielding, your fair self should make
+	A yielding 'gainst some reason in my breast
+	And go well satisfied to France again.
+
+PRINCESS	You do the king my father too much wrong
+	And wrong the reputation of your name,
+	In so unseeming to confess receipt
+	Of that which hath so faithfully been paid.
+
+FERDINAND	I do protest I never heard of it;
+	And if you prove it, I'll repay it back
+	Or yield up Aquitaine.
+
+PRINCESS	We arrest your word.
+	Boyet, you can produce acquittances
+	For such a sum from special officers
+	Of Charles his father.
+
+FERDINAND	Satisfy me so.
+
+BOYET	So please your grace, the packet is not come
+	Where that and other specialties are bound:
+	To-morrow you shall have a sight of them.
+
+FERDINAND	It shall suffice me: at which interview
+	All liberal reason I will yield unto.
+	Meantime receive such welcome at my hand
+	As honour without breach of honour may
+	Make tender of to thy true worthiness:
+	You may not come, fair princess, in my gates;
+	But here without you shall be so received
+	As you shall deem yourself lodged in my heart,
+	Though so denied fair harbour in my house.
+	Your own good thoughts excuse me, and farewell:
+	To-morrow shall we visit you again.
+
+PRINCESS	Sweet health and fair desires consort your grace!
+
+FERDINAND	Thy own wish wish I thee in every place!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BIRON	Lady, I will commend you to mine own heart.
+
+ROSALINE	Pray you, do my commendations; I would be glad to see it.
+
+BIRON	I would you heard it groan.
+
+ROSALINE	Is the fool sick?
+
+BIRON	Sick at the heart.
+
+ROSALINE	Alack, let it blood.
+
+BIRON	Would that do it good?
+
+ROSALINE	My physic says 'ay.'
+
+BIRON	Will you prick't with your eye?
+
+ROSALINE	No point, with my knife.
+
+BIRON	Now, God save thy life!
+
+ROSALINE	And yours from long living!
+
+BIRON	I cannot stay thanksgiving.
+
+	[Retiring]
+
+DUMAIN	Sir, I pray you, a word: what lady is that same?
+
+BOYET	The heir of Alencon, Katharine her name.
+
+DUMAIN	A gallant lady. Monsieur, fare you well.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LONGAVILLE	I beseech you a word: what is she in the white?
+
+BOYET	A woman sometimes, an you saw her in the light.
+
+LONGAVILLE	Perchance light in the light. I desire her name.
+
+BOYET	She hath but one for herself; to desire that were a shame.
+
+LONGAVILLE	Pray you, sir, whose daughter?
+
+BOYET	Her mother's, I have heard.
+
+LONGAVILLE	God's blessing on your beard!
+
+BOYET	Good sir, be not offended.
+	She is an heir of Falconbridge.
+
+LONGAVILLE	Nay, my choler is ended.
+	She is a most sweet lady.
+
+BOYET	Not unlike, sir, that may be.
+
+	[Exit LONGAVILLE]
+
+BIRON	What's her name in the cap?
+
+BOYET	Rosaline, by good hap.
+
+BIRON	Is she wedded or no?
+
+BOYET	To her will, sir, or so.
+
+BIRON	You are welcome, sir: adieu.
+
+BOYET	Farewell to me, sir, and welcome to you.
+
+	[Exit BIRON]
+
+MARIA	That last is Biron, the merry madcap lord:
+	Not a word with him but a jest.
+
+BOYET	And every jest but a word.
+
+PRINCESS	It was well done of you to take him at his word.
+
+BOYET	I was as willing to grapple as he was to board.
+
+MARIA	Two hot sheeps, marry.
+
+BOYET	And wherefore not ships?
+	No sheep, sweet lamb, unless we feed on your lips.
+
+MARIA	You sheep, and I pasture: shall that finish the jest?
+
+BOYET	So you grant pasture for me.
+
+	[Offering to kiss her]
+
+MARIA	Not so, gentle beast:
+	My lips are no common, though several they be.
+
+BOYET	Belonging to whom?
+
+MARIA	                  To my fortunes and me.
+
+PRINCESS	Good wits will be jangling; but, gentles, agree:
+	This civil war of wits were much better used
+	On Navarre and his book-men; for here 'tis abused.
+
+BOYET	If my observation, which very seldom lies,
+	By the heart's still rhetoric disclosed with eyes,
+	Deceive me not now, Navarre is infected.
+
+PRINCESS	With what?
+
+BOYET	With that which we lovers entitle affected.
+
+PRINCESS	Your reason?
+
+BOYET	Why, all his behaviors did make their retire
+	To the court of his eye, peeping thorough desire:
+	His heart, like an agate, with your print impress'd,
+	Proud with his form, in his eye pride express'd:
+	His tongue, all impatient to speak and not see,
+	Did stumble with haste in his eyesight to be;
+	All senses to that sense did make their repair,
+	To feel only looking on fairest of fair:
+	Methought all his senses were lock'd in his eye,
+	As jewels in crystal for some prince to buy;
+	Who, tendering their own worth from where they were glass'd,
+	Did point you to buy them, along as you pass'd:
+	His face's own margent did quote such amazes
+	That all eyes saw his eyes enchanted with gazes.
+	I'll give you Aquitaine and all that is his,
+	An you give him for my sake but one loving kiss.
+
+PRINCESS	Come to our pavilion: Boyet is disposed.
+
+BOYET	But to speak that in words which his eye hath
+	disclosed.
+	I only have made a mouth of his eye,
+	By adding a tongue which I know will not lie.
+
+ROSALINE	Thou art an old love-monger and speakest skilfully.
+
+MARIA	He is Cupid's grandfather and learns news of him.
+
+ROSALINE	Then was Venus like her mother, for her father is but grim.
+
+BOYET	Do you hear, my mad wenches?
+
+MARIA	No.
+
+BOYET	What then, do you see?
+
+ROSALINE	Ay, our way to be gone.
+
+BOYET	You are too hard for me.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	LOVE'S LABOURS LOST
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO and MOTH]
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Warble, child; make passionate my sense of hearing.
+
+MOTH	Concolinel.
+
+	[Singing]
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sweet air! Go, tenderness of years; take this key,
+	give enlargement to the swain, bring him festinately
+	hither: I must employ him in a letter to my love.
+
+MOTH	Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	How meanest thou? brawling in French?
+
+MOTH	No, my complete master: but to jig off a tune at
+	the tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, humour
+	it with turning up your eyelids, sigh a note and
+	sing a note, sometime through the throat, as if you
+	swallowed love with singing love, sometime through
+	the nose, as if you snuffed up love by smelling
+	love; with your hat penthouse-like o'er the shop of
+	your eyes; with your arms crossed on your thin-belly
+	doublet like a rabbit on a spit; or your hands in
+	your pocket like a man after the old painting; and
+	keep not too long in one tune, but a snip and away.
+	These are complements, these are humours; these
+	betray nice wenches, that would be betrayed without
+	these; and make them men of note--do you note
+	me?--that most are affected to these.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	How hast thou purchased this experience?
+
+MOTH	By my penny of observation.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	But O,--but O,--
+
+MOTH	'The hobby-horse is forgot.'
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Callest thou my love 'hobby-horse'?
+
+MOTH	No, master; the hobby-horse is but a colt, and your
+	love perhaps a hackney. But have you forgot your love?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Almost I had.
+
+MOTH	Negligent student! learn her by heart.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	By heart and in heart, boy.
+
+MOTH	And out of heart, master: all those three I will prove.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	What wilt thou prove?
+
+MOTH	A man, if I live; and this, by, in, and without, upon
+	the instant: by heart you love her, because your
+	heart cannot come by her; in heart you love her,
+	because your heart is in love with her; and out of
+	heart you love her, being out of heart that you
+	cannot enjoy her.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I am all these three.
+
+MOTH	And three times as much more, and yet nothing at
+	all.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Fetch hither the swain: he must carry me a letter.
+
+MOTH	A message well sympathized; a horse to be ambassador
+	for an ass.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Ha, ha! what sayest thou?
+
+MOTH	Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse,
+	for he is very slow-gaited. But I go.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	The way is but short: away!
+
+MOTH	As swift as lead, sir.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	The meaning, pretty ingenious?
+	Is not lead a metal heavy, dull, and slow?
+
+MOTH	Minime, honest master; or rather, master, no.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I say lead is slow.
+
+MOTH	You are too swift, sir, to say so:
+	Is that lead slow which is fired from a gun?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sweet smoke of rhetoric!
+	He reputes me a cannon; and the bullet, that's he:
+	I shoot thee at the swain.
+
+MOTH	Thump then and I flee.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	A most acute juvenal; voluble and free of grace!
+	By thy favour, sweet welkin, I must sigh in thy face:
+	Most rude melancholy, valour gives thee place.
+	My herald is return'd.
+
+	[Re-enter MOTH with COSTARD]
+
+MOTH	A wonder, master! here's a costard broken in a shin.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Some enigma, some riddle: come, thy l'envoy; begin.
+
+COSTARD	No enigma, no riddle, no l'envoy; no salve in the
+	mail, sir: O, sir, plantain, a plain plantain! no
+	l'envoy, no l'envoy; no salve, sir, but a plantain!
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	By virtue, thou enforcest laughter; thy silly
+	thought my spleen; the heaving of my lungs provokes
+	me to ridiculous smiling. O, pardon me, my stars!
+	Doth the inconsiderate take salve for l'envoy, and
+	the word l'envoy for a salve?
+
+MOTH	Do the wise think them other? is not l'envoy a salve?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	No, page: it is an epilogue or discourse, to make plain
+	Some obscure precedence that hath tofore been sain.
+	I will example it:
+	The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
+	Were still at odds, being but three.
+	There's the moral. Now the l'envoy.
+
+MOTH	I will add the l'envoy. Say the moral again.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	          The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
+	Were still at odds, being but three.
+
+MOTH	          Until the goose came out of door,
+	And stay'd the odds by adding four.
+	Now will I begin your moral, and do you follow with
+	my l'envoy.
+	The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee,
+	Were still at odds, being but three.
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	          Until the goose came out of door,
+	Staying the odds by adding four.
+
+MOTH	A good l'envoy, ending in the goose: would you
+	desire more?
+
+COSTARD	The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that's flat.
+	Sir, your pennyworth is good, an your goose be fat.
+	To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose:
+	Let me see; a fat l'envoy; ay, that's a fat goose.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Come hither, come hither. How did this argument begin?
+
+MOTH	By saying that a costard was broken in a shin.
+	Then call'd you for the l'envoy.
+
+COSTARD	True, and I for a plantain: thus came your
+	argument in;
+	Then the boy's fat l'envoy, the goose that you bought;
+	And he ended the market.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	But tell me; how was there a costard broken in a shin?
+
+MOTH	I will tell you sensibly.
+
+COSTARD	Thou hast no feeling of it, Moth: I will speak that l'envoy:
+	I Costard, running out, that was safely within,
+	Fell over the threshold and broke my shin.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	We will talk no more of this matter.
+
+COSTARD	Till there be more matter in the shin.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sirrah Costard, I will enfranchise thee.
+
+COSTARD	O, marry me to one Frances: I smell some l'envoy,
+	some goose, in this.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	By my sweet soul, I mean setting thee at liberty,
+	enfreedoming thy person; thou wert immured,
+	restrained, captivated, bound.
+
+COSTARD	True, true; and now you will be my purgation and let me loose.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I give thee thy liberty, set thee from durance; and,
+	in lieu thereof, impose on thee nothing but this:
+	bear this significant
+
+	[Giving a letter]
+
+		to the country maid Jaquenetta:
+	there is remuneration; for the best ward of mine
+	honour is rewarding my dependents. Moth, follow.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MOTH	Like the sequel, I. Signior Costard, adieu.
+
+COSTARD	My sweet ounce of man's flesh! my incony Jew!
+
+	[Exit MOTH]
+
+	Now will I look to his remuneration. Remuneration!
+	O, that's the Latin word for three farthings: three
+	farthings--remuneration.--'What's the price of this
+	inkle?'--'One penny.'--'No, I'll give you a
+	remuneration:' why, it carries it. Remuneration!
+	why, it is a fairer name than French crown. I will
+	never buy and sell out of this word.
+
+	[Enter BIRON]
+
+BIRON	O, my good knave Costard! exceedingly well met.
+
+COSTARD	Pray you, sir, how much carnation ribbon may a man
+	buy for a remuneration?
+
+BIRON	What is a remuneration?
+
+COSTARD	Marry, sir, halfpenny farthing.
+
+BIRON	Why, then, three-farthing worth of silk.
+
+COSTARD	I thank your worship: God be wi' you!
+
+BIRON	Stay, slave; I must employ thee:
+	As thou wilt win my favour, good my knave,
+	Do one thing for me that I shall entreat.
+
+COSTARD	When would you have it done, sir?
+
+BIRON	This afternoon.
+
+COSTARD	Well, I will do it, sir: fare you well.
+
+BIRON	Thou knowest not what it is.
+
+COSTARD	I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
+
+BIRON	Why, villain, thou must know first.
+
+COSTARD	I will come to your worship to-morrow morning.
+
+BIRON	It must be done this afternoon.
+	Hark, slave, it is but this:
+	The princess comes to hunt here in the park,
+	And in her train there is a gentle lady;
+	When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
+	And Rosaline they call her: ask for her;
+	And to her white hand see thou do commend
+	This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go.
+
+	[Giving him a shilling]
+
+COSTARD	Gardon, O sweet gardon! better than remuneration,
+	a'leven-pence farthing better: most sweet gardon! I
+	will do it sir, in print. Gardon! Remuneration!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BIRON	And I, forsooth, in love! I, that have been love's whip;
+	A very beadle to a humorous sigh;
+	A critic, nay, a night-watch constable;
+	A domineering pedant o'er the boy;
+	Than whom no mortal so magnificent!
+	This whimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy;
+	This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;
+	Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
+	The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
+	Liege of all loiterers and malcontents,
+	Dread prince of plackets, king of codpieces,
+	Sole imperator and great general
+	Of trotting 'paritors:--O my little heart:--
+	And I to be a corporal of his field,
+	And wear his colours like a tumbler's hoop!
+	What, I! I love! I sue! I seek a wife!
+	A woman, that is like a German clock,
+	Still a-repairing, ever out of frame,
+	And never going aright, being a watch,
+	But being watch'd that it may still go right!
+	Nay, to be perjured, which is worst of all;
+	And, among three, to love the worst of all;
+	A wightly wanton with a velvet brow,
+	With two pitch-balls stuck in her face for eyes;
+	Ay, and by heaven, one that will do the deed
+	Though Argus were her eunuch and her guard:
+	And I to sigh for her! to watch for her!
+	To pray for her! Go to; it is a plague
+	That Cupid will impose for my neglect
+	Of his almighty dreadful little might.
+	Well, I will love, write, sigh, pray, sue and groan:
+	Some men must love my lady and some Joan.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	LOVE'S LABOURS LOST
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter the PRINCESS, and her train, a Forester,
+	BOYET, ROSALINE, MARIA, and KATHARINE]
+
+PRINCESS	Was that the king, that spurred his horse so hard
+	Against the steep uprising of the hill?
+
+BOYET	I know not; but I think it was not he.
+
+PRINCESS	Whoe'er a' was, a' show'd a mounting mind.
+	Well, lords, to-day we shall have our dispatch:
+	On Saturday we will return to France.
+	Then, forester, my friend, where is the bush
+	That we must stand and play the murderer in?
+
+Forester	Hereby, upon the edge of yonder coppice;
+	A stand where you may make the fairest shoot.
+
+PRINCESS	I thank my beauty, I am fair that shoot,
+	And thereupon thou speak'st the fairest shoot.
+
+Forester	Pardon me, madam, for I meant not so.
+
+PRINCESS	What, what? first praise me and again say no?
+	O short-lived pride! Not fair? alack for woe!
+
+Forester	Yes, madam, fair.
+
+PRINCESS	                  Nay, never paint me now:
+	Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.
+	Here, good my glass, take this for telling true:
+	Fair payment for foul words is more than due.
+
+Forester	Nothing but fair is that which you inherit.
+
+PRINCESS	See see, my beauty will be saved by merit!
+	O heresy in fair, fit for these days!
+	A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.
+	But come, the bow: now mercy goes to kill,
+	And shooting well is then accounted ill.
+	Thus will I save my credit in the shoot:
+	Not wounding, pity would not let me do't;
+	If wounding, then it was to show my skill,
+	That more for praise than purpose meant to kill.
+	And out of question so it is sometimes,
+	Glory grows guilty of detested crimes,
+	When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part,
+	We bend to that the working of the heart;
+	As I for praise alone now seek to spill
+	The poor deer's blood, that my heart means no ill.
+
+BOYET	Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty
+	Only for praise sake, when they strive to be
+	Lords o'er their lords?
+
+PRINCESS	Only for praise: and praise we may afford
+	To any lady that subdues a lord.
+
+BOYET	Here comes a member of the commonwealth.
+
+	[Enter COSTARD]
+
+COSTARD	God dig-you-den all! Pray you, which is the head lady?
+
+PRINCESS	Thou shalt know her, fellow, by the rest that have no heads.
+
+COSTARD	Which is the greatest lady, the highest?
+
+PRINCESS	The thickest and the tallest.
+
+COSTARD	The thickest and the tallest! it is so; truth is truth.
+	An your waist, mistress, were as slender as my wit,
+	One o' these maids' girdles for your waist should be fit.
+	Are not you the chief woman? you are the thickest here.
+
+PRINCESS	What's your will, sir? what's your will?
+
+COSTARD	I have a letter from Monsieur Biron to one Lady Rosaline.
+
+PRINCESS	O, thy letter, thy letter! he's a good friend of mine:
+	Stand aside, good bearer. Boyet, you can carve;
+	Break up this capon.
+
+BOYET	I am bound to serve.
+	This letter is mistook, it importeth none here;
+	It is writ to Jaquenetta.
+
+PRINCESS	We will read it, I swear.
+	Break the neck of the wax, and every one give ear.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+BOYET	'By heaven, that thou art fair, is most infallible;
+	true, that thou art beauteous; truth itself, that
+	thou art lovely. More fairer than fair, beautiful
+	than beauteous, truer than truth itself, have
+	commiseration on thy heroical vassal! The
+	magnanimous and most illustrate king Cophetua set
+	eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar
+	Zenelophon; and he it was that might rightly say,
+	Veni, vidi, vici; which to annothanize in the
+	vulgar,--O base and obscure vulgar!--videlicet, He
+	came, saw, and overcame: he came, one; saw two;
+	overcame, three. Who came? the king: why did he
+	come? to see: why did he see? to overcome: to
+	whom came he? to the beggar: what saw he? the
+	beggar: who overcame he? the beggar. The
+	conclusion is victory: on whose side? the king's.
+	The captive is enriched: on whose side? the
+	beggar's. The catastrophe is a nuptial: on whose
+	side? the king's: no, on both in one, or one in
+	both. I am the king; for so stands the comparison:
+	thou the beggar; for so witnesseth thy lowliness.
+	Shall I command thy love? I may: shall I enforce
+	thy love? I could: shall I entreat thy love? I
+	will. What shalt thou exchange for rags? robes;
+	for tittles? titles; for thyself? me. Thus,
+	expecting thy reply, I profane my lips on thy foot,
+	my eyes on thy picture. and my heart on thy every
+	part. Thine, in the dearest design of industry,
+		    DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO.'
+
+	Thus dost thou hear the Nemean lion roar
+	'Gainst thee, thou lamb, that standest as his prey.
+	Submissive fall his princely feet before,
+	And he from forage will incline to play:
+	But if thou strive, poor soul, what art thou then?
+	Food for his rage, repasture for his den.
+
+PRINCESS	What plume of feathers is he that indited this letter?
+	What vane? what weathercock? did you ever hear better?
+
+BOYET	I am much deceived but I remember the style.
+
+PRINCESS	Else your memory is bad, going o'er it erewhile.
+
+BOYET	This Armado is a Spaniard, that keeps here in court;
+	A phantasime, a Monarcho, and one that makes sport
+	To the prince and his bookmates.
+
+PRINCESS	Thou fellow, a word:
+	Who gave thee this letter?
+
+COSTARD	I told you; my lord.
+
+PRINCESS	To whom shouldst thou give it?
+
+COSTARD	From my lord to my lady.
+
+PRINCESS	From which lord to which lady?
+
+COSTARD	From my lord Biron, a good master of mine,
+	To a lady of France that he call'd Rosaline.
+
+PRINCESS	Thou hast mistaken his letter. Come, lords, away.
+
+	[To ROSALINE]
+
+	Here, sweet, put up this: 'twill be thine another day.
+
+	[Exeunt PRINCESS and train]
+
+BOYET	Who is the suitor? who is the suitor?
+
+ROSALINE	Shall I teach you to know?
+
+BOYET	Ay, my continent of beauty.
+
+ROSALINE	Why, she that bears the bow.
+	Finely put off!
+
+BOYET	My lady goes to kill horns; but, if thou marry,
+	Hang me by the neck, if horns that year miscarry.
+	Finely put on!
+
+ROSALINE	Well, then, I am the shooter.
+
+BOYET	And who is your deer?
+
+ROSALINE	If we choose by the horns, yourself come not near.
+	Finely put on, indeed!
+
+MARIA	You still wrangle with her, Boyet, and she strikes
+	at the brow.
+
+BOYET	But she herself is hit lower: have I hit her now?
+
+ROSALINE	Shall I come upon thee with an old saying, that was
+	a man when King Pepin of France was a little boy, as
+	touching the hit it?
+
+BOYET	So I may answer thee with one as old, that was a
+	woman when Queen Guinover of Britain was a little
+	wench, as touching the hit it.
+
+ROSALINE	          Thou canst not hit it, hit it, hit it,
+	Thou canst not hit it, my good man.
+
+BOYET	          An I cannot, cannot, cannot,
+	An I cannot, another can.
+
+	[Exeunt ROSALINE and KATHARINE]
+
+COSTARD	By my troth, most pleasant: how both did fit it!
+
+MARIA	A mark marvellous well shot, for they both did hit it.
+
+BOYET	A mark! O, mark but that mark! A mark, says my lady!
+	Let the mark have a prick in't, to mete at, if it may be.
+
+MARIA	Wide o' the bow hand! i' faith, your hand is out.
+
+COSTARD	Indeed, a' must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the clout.
+
+BOYET	An if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in.
+
+COSTARD	Then will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin.
+
+MARIA	Come, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul.
+
+COSTARD	She's too hard for you at pricks, sir: challenge her to bowl.
+
+BOYET	I fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl.
+
+	[Exeunt BOYET and MARIA]
+
+COSTARD	By my soul, a swain! a most simple clown!
+	Lord, Lord, how the ladies and I have put him down!
+	O' my troth, most sweet jests! most incony
+	vulgar wit!
+	When it comes so smoothly off, so obscenely, as it
+	were, so fit.
+	Armado o' th' one side,--O, a most dainty man!
+	To see him walk before a lady and to bear her fan!
+	To see him kiss his hand! and how most sweetly a'
+	will swear!
+	And his page o' t' other side, that handful of wit!
+	Ah, heavens, it is a most pathetical nit!
+	Sola, sola!
+
+	[Shout within]
+
+	[Exit COSTARD, running]
+
+
+
+
+	LOVE'S LABOURS LOST
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, and DULL]
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	Very reverend sport, truly; and done in the testimony
+	of a good conscience.
+
+HOLOFERNES	The deer was, as you know, sanguis, in blood; ripe
+	as the pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in
+	the ear of caelo, the sky, the welkin, the heaven;
+	and anon falleth like a crab on the face of terra,
+	the soil, the land, the earth.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	Truly, Master Holofernes, the epithets are sweetly
+	varied, like a scholar at the least: but, sir, I
+	assure ye, it was a buck of the first head.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Sir Nathaniel, haud credo.
+
+DULL	'Twas not a haud credo; 'twas a pricket.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Most barbarous intimation! yet a kind of
+	insinuation, as it were, in via, in way, of
+	explication; facere, as it were, replication, or
+	rather, ostentare, to show, as it were, his
+	inclination, after his undressed, unpolished,
+	uneducated, unpruned, untrained, or rather,
+	unlettered, or ratherest, unconfirmed fashion, to
+	insert again my haud credo for a deer.
+
+DULL	I said the deer was not a haud credo; twas a pricket.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Twice-sod simplicity, his coctus!
+	O thou monster Ignorance, how deformed dost thou look!
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	Sir, he hath never fed of the dainties that are bred
+	in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he
+	hath not drunk ink: his intellect is not
+	replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible in
+	the duller parts:
+	And such barren plants are set before us, that we
+	thankful should be,
+	Which we of taste and feeling are, for those parts that
+	do fructify in us more than he.
+	For as it would ill become me to be vain, indiscreet, or a fool,
+	So were there a patch set on learning, to see him in a school:
+	But omne bene, say I; being of an old father's mind,
+	Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.
+
+DULL	You two are book-men: can you tell me by your wit
+	What was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five
+	weeks old as yet?
+
+HOLOFERNES	Dictynna, goodman Dull; Dictynna, goodman Dull.
+
+DULL	What is Dictynna?
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	A title to Phoebe, to Luna, to the moon.
+
+HOLOFERNES	The moon was a month old when Adam was no more,
+	And raught not to five weeks when he came to
+	five-score.
+	The allusion holds in the exchange.
+
+DULL	'Tis true indeed; the collusion holds in the exchange.
+
+HOLOFERNES	God comfort thy capacity! I say, the allusion holds
+	in the exchange.
+
+DULL	And I say, the pollusion holds in the exchange; for
+	the moon is never but a month old: and I say beside
+	that, 'twas a pricket that the princess killed.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Sir Nathaniel, will you hear an extemporal epitaph
+	on the death of the deer? And, to humour the
+	ignorant, call I the deer the princess killed a pricket.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	Perge, good Master Holofernes, perge; so it shall
+	please you to abrogate scurrility.
+
+HOLOFERNES	I will something affect the letter, for it argues facility.
+	The preyful princess pierced and prick'd a pretty
+	pleasing pricket;
+	Some say a sore; but not a sore, till now made
+	sore with shooting.
+	The dogs did yell: put L to sore, then sorel jumps
+	from thicket;
+	Or pricket sore, or else sorel; the people fall a-hooting.
+	If sore be sore, then L to sore makes fifty sores
+	one sorel.
+	Of one sore I an hundred make by adding but one more L.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	A rare talent!
+
+DULL	[Aside]  If a talent be a claw, look how he claws
+	him with a talent.
+
+HOLOFERNES	This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a
+	foolish extravagant spirit, full of forms, figures,
+	shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions,
+	revolutions: these are begot in the ventricle of
+	memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and
+	delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. But the
+	gift is good in those in whom it is acute, and I am
+	thankful for it.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	Sir, I praise the Lord for you; and so may my
+	parishioners; for their sons are well tutored by
+	you, and their daughters profit very greatly under
+	you: you are a good member of the commonwealth.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Mehercle, if their sons be ingenuous, they shall
+	want no instruction; if their daughters be capable,
+	I will put it to them: but vir sapit qui pauca
+	loquitur; a soul feminine saluteth us.
+
+	[Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD]
+
+JAQUENETTA	God give you good morrow, master Parson.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Master Parson, quasi pers-on. An if one should be
+	pierced, which is the one?
+
+COSTARD	Marry, master schoolmaster, he that is likest to a hogshead.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Piercing a hogshead! a good lustre of conceit in a
+	tuft of earth; fire enough for a flint, pearl enough
+	for a swine: 'tis pretty; it is well.
+
+JAQUENETTA	Good master Parson, be so good as read me this
+	letter: it was given me by Costard, and sent me
+	from Don Armado: I beseech you, read it.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Fauste, precor gelida quando pecus omne sub umbra
+	Ruminat,--and so forth. Ah, good old Mantuan! I
+	may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice;
+	Venetia, Venetia,
+	Chi non ti vede non ti pretia.
+	Old Mantuan, old Mantuan! who understandeth thee
+	not, loves thee not. Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa.
+	Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? or rather,
+	as Horace says in his--What, my soul, verses?
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	Ay, sir, and very learned.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Let me hear a staff, a stanze, a verse; lege, domine.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	[Reads]
+
+	If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love?
+	Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd!
+	Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful prove:
+	Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like
+	osiers bow'd.
+	Study his bias leaves and makes his book thine eyes,
+	Where all those pleasures live that art would
+	comprehend:
+	If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice;
+	Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend,
+	All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder;
+	Which is to me some praise that I thy parts admire:
+	Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dreadful thunder,
+	Which not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire.
+	Celestial as thou art, O, pardon, love, this wrong,
+	That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue.
+
+HOLOFERNES	You find not the apostraphas, and so miss the
+	accent: let me supervise the canzonet. Here are
+	only numbers ratified; but, for the elegancy,
+	facility, and golden cadence of poesy, caret.
+	Ovidius Naso was the man: and why, indeed, Naso,
+	but for smelling out the odouriferous flowers of
+	fancy, the jerks of invention? Imitari is nothing:
+	so doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper,
+	the tired horse his rider. But, damosella virgin,
+	was this directed to you?
+
+JAQUENETTA	Ay, sir, from one Monsieur Biron, one of the strange
+	queen's lords.
+
+HOLOFERNES	I will overglance the superscript: 'To the
+	snow-white hand of the most beauteous Lady
+	Rosaline.' I will look again on the intellect of
+	the letter, for the nomination of the party writing
+	to the person written unto: 'Your ladyship's in all
+	desired employment, BIRON.' Sir Nathaniel, this
+	Biron is one of the votaries with the king; and here
+	he hath framed a letter to a sequent of the stranger
+	queen's, which accidentally, or by the way of
+	progression, hath miscarried. Trip and go, my
+	sweet; deliver this paper into the royal hand of the
+	king: it may concern much. Stay not thy
+	compliment; I forgive thy duty; adieu.
+
+JAQUENETTA	Good Costard, go with me. Sir, God save your life!
+
+COSTARD	Have with thee, my girl.
+
+	[Exeunt COSTARD and JAQUENETTA]
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very
+	religiously; and, as a certain father saith,--
+
+HOLOFERNES	Sir tell me not of the father; I do fear colourable
+	colours. But to return to the verses: did they
+	please you, Sir Nathaniel?
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	Marvellous well for the pen.
+
+HOLOFERNES	I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil
+	of mine; where, if, before repast, it shall please
+	you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my
+	privilege I have with the parents of the foresaid
+	child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where I
+	will prove those verses to be very unlearned,
+	neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention: I
+	beseech your society.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	And thank you too; for society, saith the text, is
+	the happiness of life.
+
+HOLOFERNES	And, certes, the text most infallibly concludes it.
+
+	[To DULL]
+
+	Sir, I do invite you too; you shall not
+	say me nay: pauca verba. Away! the gentles are at
+	their game, and we will to our recreation.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	LOVE'S LABOURS LOST
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter BIRON, with a paper]
+
+BIRON	The king he is hunting the deer; I am coursing
+	myself: they have pitched a toil; I am toiling in
+	a pitch,--pitch that defiles: defile! a foul
+	word. Well, set thee down, sorrow! for so they say
+	the fool said, and so say I, and I the fool: well
+	proved, wit! By the Lord, this love is as mad as
+	Ajax: it kills sheep; it kills me, I a sheep:
+	well proved again o' my side! I will not love: if
+	I do, hang me; i' faith, I will not. O, but her
+	eye,--by this light, but for her eye, I would not
+	love her; yes, for her two eyes. Well, I do nothing
+	in the world but lie, and lie in my throat. By
+	heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme
+	and to be melancholy; and here is part of my rhyme,
+	and here my melancholy. Well, she hath one o' my
+	sonnets already: the clown bore it, the fool sent
+	it, and the lady hath it: sweet clown, sweeter
+	fool, sweetest lady! By the world, I would not care
+	a pin, if the other three were in. Here comes one
+	with a paper: God give him grace to groan!
+
+	[Stands aside]
+
+	[Enter FERDINAND, with a paper]
+
+FERDINAND	Ay me!
+
+BIRON	[Aside]  Shot, by heaven! Proceed, sweet Cupid:
+	thou hast thumped him with thy bird-bolt under the
+	left pap. In faith, secrets!
+
+FERDINAND	[Reads]
+
+	So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not
+	To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,
+	As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote
+	The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows:
+	Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright
+	Through the transparent bosom of the deep,
+	As doth thy face through tears of mine give light;
+	Thou shinest in every tear that I do weep:
+	No drop but as a coach doth carry thee;
+	So ridest thou triumphing in my woe.
+	Do but behold the tears that swell in me,
+	And they thy glory through my grief will show:
+	But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
+	My tears for glasses, and still make me weep.
+	O queen of queens! how far dost thou excel,
+	No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell.
+	How shall she know my griefs? I'll drop the paper:
+	Sweet leaves, shade folly. Who is he comes here?
+
+	[Steps aside]
+
+	What, Longaville! and reading! listen, ear.
+
+BIRON	Now, in thy likeness, one more fool appear!
+
+	[Enter LONGAVILLE, with a paper]
+
+LONGAVILLE	Ay me, I am forsworn!
+
+BIRON	Why, he comes in like a perjure, wearing papers.
+
+FERDINAND	In love, I hope: sweet fellowship in shame!
+
+BIRON	One drunkard loves another of the name.
+
+LONGAVILLE	Am I the first that have been perjured so?
+
+BIRON	I could put thee in comfort. Not by two that I know:
+	Thou makest the triumviry, the corner-cap of society,
+	The shape of Love's Tyburn that hangs up simplicity.
+
+LONGAVILLE	I fear these stubborn lines lack power to move:
+	O sweet Maria, empress of my love!
+	These numbers will I tear, and write in prose.
+
+BIRON	O, rhymes are guards on wanton Cupid's hose:
+	Disfigure not his slop.
+
+LONGAVILLE	This same shall go.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,
+	'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument,
+	Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
+	Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.
+	A woman I forswore; but I will prove,
+	Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee:
+	My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
+	Thy grace being gain'd cures all disgrace in me.
+	Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is:
+	Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine,
+	Exhalest this vapour-vow; in thee it is:
+	If broken then, it is no fault of mine:
+	If by me broke, what fool is not so wise
+	To lose an oath to win a paradise?
+
+BIRON	This is the liver-vein, which makes flesh a deity,
+	A green goose a goddess: pure, pure idolatry.
+	God amend us, God amend! we are much out o' the way.
+
+LONGAVILLE	By whom shall I send this?--Company! stay.
+
+	[Steps aside]
+
+BIRON	All hid, all hid; an old infant play.
+	Like a demigod here sit I in the sky.
+	And wretched fools' secrets heedfully o'ereye.
+	More sacks to the mill! O heavens, I have my wish!
+
+	[Enter DUMAIN, with a paper]
+
+	Dumain transform'd! four woodcocks in a dish!
+
+DUMAIN	O most divine Kate!
+
+BIRON	O most profane coxcomb!
+
+DUMAIN	By heaven, the wonder in a mortal eye!
+
+BIRON	By earth, she is not, corporal, there you lie.
+
+DUMAIN	Her amber hair for foul hath amber quoted.
+
+BIRON	An amber-colour'd raven was well noted.
+
+DUMAIN	As upright as the cedar.
+
+BIRON	Stoop, I say;
+	Her shoulder is with child.
+
+DUMAIN	As fair as day.
+
+BIRON	Ay, as some days; but then no sun must shine.
+
+DUMAIN	O that I had my wish!
+
+LONGAVILLE	And I had mine!
+
+FERDINAND	And I mine too, good Lord!
+
+BIRON	Amen, so I had mine: is not that a good word?
+
+DUMAIN	I would forget her; but a fever she
+	Reigns in my blood and will remember'd be.
+
+BIRON	A fever in your blood! why, then incision
+	Would let her out in saucers: sweet misprision!
+
+DUMAIN	Once more I'll read the ode that I have writ.
+
+BIRON	Once more I'll mark how love can vary wit.
+
+DUMAIN	[Reads]
+
+	On a day--alack the day!--
+	Love, whose month is ever May,
+	Spied a blossom passing fair
+	Playing in the wanton air:
+	Through the velvet leaves the wind,
+	All unseen, can passage find;
+	That the lover, sick to death,
+	Wish himself the heaven's breath.
+	Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
+	Air, would I might triumph so!
+	But, alack, my hand is sworn
+	Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn;
+	Vow, alack, for youth unmeet,
+	Youth so apt to pluck a sweet!
+	Do not call it sin in me,
+	That I am forsworn for thee;
+	Thou for whom Jove would swear
+	Juno but an Ethiope were;
+	And deny himself for Jove,
+	Turning mortal for thy love.
+	This will I send, and something else more plain,
+	That shall express my true love's fasting pain.
+	O, would the king, Biron, and Longaville,
+	Were lovers too! Ill, to example ill,
+	Would from my forehead wipe a perjured note;
+	For none offend where all alike do dote.
+
+LONGAVILLE	[Advancing]  Dumain, thy love is far from charity.
+	You may look pale, but I should blush, I know,
+	To be o'erheard and taken napping so.
+
+FERDINAND	[Advancing]  Come, sir, you blush; as his your case is such;
+	You chide at him, offending twice as much;
+	You do not love Maria; Longaville
+	Did never sonnet for her sake compile,
+	Nor never lay his wreathed arms athwart
+	His loving bosom to keep down his heart.
+	I have been closely shrouded in this bush
+	And mark'd you both and for you both did blush:
+	I heard your guilty rhymes, observed your fashion,
+	Saw sighs reek from you, noted well your passion:
+	Ay me! says one; O Jove! the other cries;
+	One, her hairs were gold, crystal the other's eyes:
+
+	[To LONGAVILLE]
+
+	You would for paradise break faith, and troth;
+
+	[To DUMAIN]
+
+	And Jove, for your love, would infringe an oath.
+	What will Biron say when that he shall hear
+	Faith so infringed, which such zeal did swear?
+	How will he scorn! how will he spend his wit!
+	How will he triumph, leap and laugh at it!
+	For all the wealth that ever I did see,
+	I would not have him know so much by me.
+
+BIRON	Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.
+
+	[Advancing]
+
+	Ah, good my liege, I pray thee, pardon me!
+	Good heart, what grace hast thou, thus to reprove
+	These worms for loving, that art most in love?
+	Your eyes do make no coaches; in your tears
+	There is no certain princess that appears;
+	You'll not be perjured, 'tis a hateful thing;
+	Tush, none but minstrels like of sonneting!
+	But are you not ashamed? nay, are you not,
+	All three of you, to be thus much o'ershot?
+	You found his mote; the king your mote did see;
+	But I a beam do find in each of three.
+	O, what a scene of foolery have I seen,
+	Of sighs, of groans, of sorrow and of teen!
+	O me, with what strict patience have I sat,
+	To see a king transformed to a gnat!
+	To see great Hercules whipping a gig,
+	And profound Solomon to tune a jig,
+	And Nestor play at push-pin with the boys,
+	And critic Timon laugh at idle toys!
+	Where lies thy grief, O, tell me, good Dumain?
+	And gentle Longaville, where lies thy pain?
+	And where my liege's? all about the breast:
+	A caudle, ho!
+
+FERDINAND	                  Too bitter is thy jest.
+	Are we betray'd thus to thy over-view?
+
+BIRON	Not you to me, but I betray'd by you:
+	I, that am honest; I, that hold it sin
+	To break the vow I am engaged in;
+	I am betray'd, by keeping company
+	With men like men of inconstancy.
+	When shall you see me write a thing in rhyme?
+	Or groan for love? or spend a minute's time
+	In pruning me? When shall you hear that I
+	Will praise a hand, a foot, a face, an eye,
+	A gait, a state, a brow, a breast, a waist,
+	A leg, a limb?
+
+FERDINAND	                  Soft! whither away so fast?
+	A true man or a thief that gallops so?
+
+BIRON	I post from love: good lover, let me go.
+
+	[Enter JAQUENETTA and COSTARD]
+
+JAQUENETTA	God bless the king!
+
+FERDINAND	What present hast thou there?
+
+COSTARD	Some certain treason.
+
+FERDINAND	What makes treason here?
+
+COSTARD	Nay, it makes nothing, sir.
+
+FERDINAND	If it mar nothing neither,
+	The treason and you go in peace away together.
+
+JAQUENETTA	I beseech your grace, let this letter be read:
+	Our parson misdoubts it; 'twas treason, he said.
+
+FERDINAND	Biron, read it over.
+
+	[Giving him the paper]
+
+	Where hadst thou it?
+
+JAQUENETTA	Of Costard.
+
+FERDINAND	Where hadst thou it?
+
+COSTARD	Of Dun Adramadio, Dun Adramadio.
+
+	[BIRON tears the letter]
+
+FERDINAND	How now! what is in you? why dost thou tear it?
+
+BIRON	A toy, my liege, a toy: your grace needs not fear it.
+
+LONGAVILLE	It did move him to passion, and therefore let's hear it.
+
+DUMAIN	It is Biron's writing, and here is his name.
+
+	[Gathering up the pieces]
+
+BIRON	[To COSTARD]  Ah, you whoreson loggerhead! you were
+	born to do me shame.
+	Guilty, my lord, guilty! I confess, I confess.
+
+FERDINAND	What?
+
+BIRON	That you three fools lack'd me fool to make up the mess:
+	He, he, and you, and you, my liege, and I,
+	Are pick-purses in love, and we deserve to die.
+	O, dismiss this audience, and I shall tell you more.
+
+DUMAIN	Now the number is even.
+
+BIRON	True, true; we are four.
+	Will these turtles be gone?
+
+FERDINAND	Hence, sirs; away!
+
+COSTARD	Walk aside the true folk, and let the traitors stay.
+
+	[Exeunt COSTARD and JAQUENETTA]
+
+BIRON	Sweet lords, sweet lovers, O, let us embrace!
+	As true we are as flesh and blood can be:
+	The sea will ebb and flow, heaven show his face;
+	Young blood doth not obey an old decree:
+	We cannot cross the cause why we were born;
+	Therefore of all hands must we be forsworn.
+
+FERDINAND	What, did these rent lines show some love of thine?
+
+BIRON	Did they, quoth you? Who sees the heavenly Rosaline,
+	That, like a rude and savage man of Inde,
+	At the first opening of the gorgeous east,
+	Bows not his vassal head and strucken blind
+	Kisses the base ground with obedient breast?
+	What peremptory eagle-sighted eye
+	Dares look upon the heaven of her brow,
+	That is not blinded by her majesty?
+
+FERDINAND	   What zeal, what fury hath inspired thee now?
+	My love, her mistress, is a gracious moon;
+	She an attending star, scarce seen a light.
+
+BIRON	My eyes are then no eyes, nor I Biron:
+	O, but for my love, day would turn to night!
+	Of all complexions the cull'd sovereignty
+	Do meet, as at a fair, in her fair cheek,
+	Where several worthies make one dignity,
+	Where nothing wants that want itself doth seek.
+	Lend me the flourish of all gentle tongues,--
+	Fie, painted rhetoric! O, she needs it not:
+	To things of sale a seller's praise belongs,
+	She passes praise; then praise too short doth blot.
+	A wither'd hermit, five-score winters worn,
+	Might shake off fifty, looking in her eye:
+	Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born,
+	And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy:
+	O, 'tis the sun that maketh all things shine.
+
+FERDINAND	   By heaven, thy love is black as ebony.
+
+BIRON	Is ebony like her? O wood divine!
+	A wife of such wood were felicity.
+	O, who can give an oath? where is a book?
+	That I may swear beauty doth beauty lack,
+	If that she learn not of her eye to look:
+	No face is fair that is not full so black.
+
+FERDINAND	O paradox! Black is the badge of hell,
+	The hue of dungeons and the suit of night;
+	And beauty's crest becomes the heavens well.
+
+BIRON	   Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light.
+	O, if in black my lady's brows be deck'd,
+	It mourns that painting and usurping hair
+	Should ravish doters with a false aspect;
+	And therefore is she born to make black fair.
+	Her favour turns the fashion of the days,
+	For native blood is counted painting now;
+	And therefore red, that would avoid dispraise,
+	Paints itself black, to imitate her brow.
+
+DUMAIN	To look like her are chimney-sweepers black.
+
+LONGAVILLE	   And since her time are colliers counted bright.
+
+FERDINAND	And Ethiopes of their sweet complexion crack.
+
+DUMAIN	   Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light.
+
+BIRON	Your mistresses dare never come in rain,
+	For fear their colours should be wash'd away.
+
+FERDINAND	'Twere good, yours did; for, sir, to tell you plain,
+	I'll find a fairer face not wash'd to-day.
+
+BIRON	I'll prove her fair, or talk till doomsday here.
+
+FERDINAND	   No devil will fright thee then so much as she.
+
+DUMAIN	I never knew man hold vile stuff so dear.
+
+LONGAVILLE	   Look, here's thy love: my foot and her face see.
+
+BIRON	O, if the streets were paved with thine eyes,
+	Her feet were much too dainty for such tread!
+
+DUMAIN	O, vile! then, as she goes, what upward lies
+	The street should see as she walk'd overhead.
+
+FERDINAND	But what of this? are we not all in love?
+
+BIRON	   Nothing so sure; and thereby all forsworn.
+
+FERDINAND	Then leave this chat; and, good Biron, now prove
+	Our loving lawful, and our faith not torn.
+
+DUMAIN	Ay, marry, there; some flattery for this evil.
+
+LONGAVILLE	   O, some authority how to proceed;
+	Some tricks, some quillets, how to cheat the devil.
+
+DUMAIN	Some salve for perjury.
+
+BIRON	'Tis more than need.
+	Have at you, then, affection's men at arms.
+	Consider what you first did swear unto,
+	To fast, to study, and to see no woman;
+	Flat treason 'gainst the kingly state of youth.
+	Say, can you fast? your stomachs are too young;
+	And abstinence engenders maladies.
+	And where that you have vow'd to study, lords,
+	In that each of you have forsworn his book,
+	Can you still dream and pore and thereon look?
+	For when would you, my lord, or you, or you,
+	Have found the ground of study's excellence
+	Without the beauty of a woman's face?
+	[From women's eyes this doctrine I derive;
+	They are the ground, the books, the academes
+	From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire]
+	Why, universal plodding poisons up
+	The nimble spirits in the arteries,
+	As motion and long-during action tires
+	The sinewy vigour of the traveller.
+	Now, for not looking on a woman's face,
+	You have in that forsworn the use of eyes
+	And study too, the causer of your vow;
+	For where is any author in the world
+	Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
+	Learning is but an adjunct to ourself
+	And where we are our learning likewise is:
+	Then when ourselves we see in ladies' eyes,
+	Do we not likewise see our learning there?
+	O, we have made a vow to study, lords,
+	And in that vow we have forsworn our books.
+	For when would you, my liege, or you, or you,
+	In leaden contemplation have found out
+	Such fiery numbers as the prompting eyes
+	Of beauty's tutors have enrich'd you with?
+	Other slow arts entirely keep the brain;
+	And therefore, finding barren practisers,
+	Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil:
+	But love, first learned in a lady's eyes,
+	Lives not alone immured in the brain;
+	But, with the motion of all elements,
+	Courses as swift as thought in every power,
+	And gives to every power a double power,
+	Above their functions and their offices.
+	It adds a precious seeing to the eye;
+	A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind;
+	A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound,
+	When the suspicious head of theft is stopp'd:
+	Love's feeling is more soft and sensible
+	Than are the tender horns of cockl'd snails;
+	Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste:
+	For valour, is not Love a Hercules,
+	Still climbing trees in the Hesperides?
+	Subtle as Sphinx; as sweet and musical
+	As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair:
+	And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods
+	Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
+	Never durst poet touch a pen to write
+	Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sighs;
+	O, then his lines would ravish savage ears
+	And plant in tyrants mild humility.
+	From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:
+	They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
+	They are the books, the arts, the academes,
+	That show, contain and nourish all the world:
+	Else none at all in ought proves excellent.
+	Then fools you were these women to forswear,
+	Or keeping what is sworn, you will prove fools.
+	For wisdom's sake, a word that all men love,
+	Or for love's sake, a word that loves all men,
+	Or for men's sake, the authors of these women,
+	Or women's sake, by whom we men are men,
+	Let us once lose our oaths to find ourselves,
+	Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths.
+	It is religion to be thus forsworn,
+	For charity itself fulfills the law,
+	And who can sever love from charity?
+
+FERDINAND	Saint Cupid, then! and, soldiers, to the field!
+
+BIRON	Advance your standards, and upon them, lords;
+	Pell-mell, down with them! but be first advised,
+	In conflict that you get the sun of them.
+
+LONGAVILLE	Now to plain-dealing; lay these glozes by:
+	Shall we resolve to woo these girls of France?
+
+FERDINAND	And win them too: therefore let us devise
+	Some entertainment for them in their tents.
+
+BIRON	First, from the park let us conduct them thither;
+	Then homeward every man attach the hand
+	Of his fair mistress: in the afternoon
+	We will with some strange pastime solace them,
+	Such as the shortness of the time can shape;
+	For revels, dances, masks and merry hours
+	Forerun fair Love, strewing her way with flowers.
+
+FERDINAND	Away, away! no time shall be omitted
+	That will betime, and may by us be fitted.
+
+BIRON	Allons! allons! Sow'd cockle reap'd no corn;
+	And justice always whirls in equal measure:
+	Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn;
+	If so, our copper buys no better treasure.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	LOVE'S LABOURS LOST
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, and DULL]
+
+HOLOFERNES	Satis quod sufficit.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at dinner
+	have been sharp and sententious; pleasant without
+	scurrility, witty without affection, audacious without
+	impudency, learned without opinion, and strange with-
+	out heresy. I did converse this quondam day with
+	a companion of the king's, who is intituled, nomi-
+	nated, or called, Don Adriano de Armado.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Novi hominem tanquam te: his humour is lofty, his
+	discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye
+	ambitious, his gait majestical, and his general
+	behavior vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical. He is
+	too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it
+	were, too peregrinate, as I may call it.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	A most singular and choice epithet.
+
+	[Draws out his table-book]
+
+HOLOFERNES	He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer
+	than the staple of his argument. I abhor such
+	fanatical phantasimes, such insociable and
+	point-devise companions; such rackers of
+	orthography, as to speak dout, fine, when he should
+	say doubt; det, when he should pronounce debt,--d,
+	e, b, t, not d, e, t: he clepeth a calf, cauf;
+	half, hauf; neighbour vocatur nebor; neigh
+	abbreviated ne. This is abhominable,--which he
+	would call abbominable: it insinuateth me of
+	insanie: anne intelligis, domine? to make frantic, lunatic.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	Laus Deo, bene intelligo.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Bon, bon, fort bon, Priscian! a little scratch'd,
+	'twill serve.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	Videsne quis venit?
+
+HOLOFERNES	Video, et gaudeo.
+
+	[Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO, MOTH, and COSTARD]
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Chirrah!
+
+	[To MOTH]
+
+HOLOFERNES	Quare chirrah, not sirrah?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Men of peace, well encountered.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Most military sir, salutation.
+
+MOTH	[Aside to COSTARD]  They have been at a great feast
+	of languages, and stolen the scraps.
+
+COSTARD	O, they have lived long on the alms-basket of words.
+	I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word;
+	for thou art not so long by the head as
+	honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier
+	swallowed than a flap-dragon.
+
+MOTH	Peace! the peal begins.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	[To HOLOFERNES]  Monsieur, are you not lettered?
+
+MOTH	Yes, yes; he teaches boys the hornbook. What is a,
+	b, spelt backward, with the horn on his head?
+
+HOLOFERNES	Ba, pueritia, with a horn added.
+
+MOTH	Ba, most silly sheep with a horn. You hear his learning.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Quis, quis, thou consonant?
+
+MOTH	The third of the five vowels, if you repeat them; or
+	the fifth, if I.
+
+HOLOFERNES	I will repeat them,--a, e, i,--
+
+MOTH	The sheep: the other two concludes it,--o, u.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Now, by the salt wave of the Mediterraneum, a sweet
+	touch, a quick venue of wit! snip, snap, quick and
+	home! it rejoiceth my intellect: true wit!
+
+MOTH	Offered by a child to an old man; which is wit-old.
+
+HOLOFERNES	What is the figure? what is the figure?
+
+MOTH	Horns.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Thou disputest like an infant: go, whip thy gig.
+
+MOTH	Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about
+	your infamy circum circa,--a gig of a cuckold's horn.
+
+COSTARD	An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst
+	have it to buy gingerbread: hold, there is the very
+	remuneration I had of thy master, thou halfpenny
+	purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of discretion. O, an
+	the heavens were so pleased that thou wert but my
+	bastard, what a joyful father wouldst thou make me!
+	Go to; thou hast it ad dunghill, at the fingers'
+	ends, as they say.
+
+HOLOFERNES	O, I smell false Latin; dunghill for unguem.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Arts-man, preambulate, we will be singled from the
+	barbarous. Do you not educate youth at the
+	charge-house on the top of the mountain?
+
+HOLOFERNES	Or mons, the hill.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain.
+
+HOLOFERNES	I do, sans question.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sir, it is the king's most sweet pleasure and
+	affection to congratulate the princess at her
+	pavilion in the posteriors of this day, which the
+	rude multitude call the afternoon.
+
+HOLOFERNES	The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is
+	liable, congruent and measurable for the afternoon:
+	the word is well culled, chose, sweet and apt, I do
+	assure you, sir, I do assure.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sir, the king is a noble gentleman, and my familiar,
+	I do assure ye, very good friend: for what is
+	inward between us, let it pass. I do beseech thee,
+	remember thy courtesy; I beseech thee, apparel thy
+	head: and among other important and most serious
+	designs, and of great import indeed, too, but let
+	that pass: for I must tell thee, it will please his
+	grace, by the world, sometime to lean upon my poor
+	shoulder, and with his royal finger, thus, dally
+	with my excrement, with my mustachio; but, sweet
+	heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no
+	fable: some certain special honours it pleaseth his
+	greatness to impart to Armado, a soldier, a man of
+	travel, that hath seen the world; but let that pass.
+	The very all of all is,--but, sweet heart, I do
+	implore secrecy,--that the king would have me
+	present the princess, sweet chuck, with some
+	delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or
+	antique, or firework. Now, understanding that the
+	curate and your sweet self are good at such
+	eruptions and sudden breaking out of mirth, as it
+	were, I have acquainted you withal, to the end to
+	crave your assistance.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies.
+	Sir, as concerning some entertainment of time, some
+	show in the posterior of this day, to be rendered by
+	our assistants, at the king's command, and this most
+	gallant, illustrate, and learned gentleman, before
+	the princess; I say none so fit as to present the
+	Nine Worthies.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	Where will you find men worthy enough to present them?
+
+HOLOFERNES	Joshua, yourself; myself and this gallant gentleman,
+	Judas Maccabaeus; this swain, because of his great
+	limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the Great; the
+	page, Hercules,--
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Pardon, sir; error: he is not quantity enough for
+	that Worthy's thumb: he is not so big as the end of his club.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Shall I have audience? he shall present Hercules in
+	minority: his enter and exit shall be strangling a
+	snake; and I will have an apology for that purpose.
+
+MOTH	An excellent device! so, if any of the audience
+	hiss, you may cry 'Well done, Hercules! now thou
+	crushest the snake!' that is the way to make an
+	offence gracious, though few have the grace to do it.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	For the rest of the Worthies?--
+
+HOLOFERNES	I will play three myself.
+
+MOTH	Thrice-worthy gentleman!
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Shall I tell you a thing?
+
+HOLOFERNES	We attend.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	We will have, if this fadge not, an antique. I
+	beseech you, follow.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Via, goodman Dull! thou hast spoken no word all this while.
+
+DULL	Nor understood none neither, sir.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Allons! we will employ thee.
+
+DULL	I'll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play
+	On the tabour to the Worthies, and let them dance the hay.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Most dull, honest Dull! To our sport, away!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	LOVE'S LABOURS LOST
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter the PRINCESS, KATHARINE, ROSALINE, and MARIA]
+
+PRINCESS	Sweet hearts, we shall be rich ere we depart,
+	If fairings come thus plentifully in:
+	A lady wall'd about with diamonds!
+	Look you what I have from the loving king.
+
+ROSALINE	Madame, came nothing else along with that?
+
+PRINCESS	Nothing but this! yes, as much love in rhyme
+	As would be cramm'd up in a sheet of paper,
+	Writ o' both sides the leaf, margent and all,
+	That he was fain to seal on Cupid's name.
+
+ROSALINE	That was the way to make his godhead wax,
+	For he hath been five thousand years a boy.
+
+KATHARINE	Ay, and a shrewd unhappy gallows too.
+
+ROSALINE	You'll ne'er be friends with him; a' kill'd your sister.
+
+KATHARINE	He made her melancholy, sad, and heavy;
+	And so she died: had she been light, like you,
+	Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,
+	She might ha' been a grandam ere she died:
+	And so may you; for a light heart lives long.
+
+ROSALINE	What's your dark meaning, mouse, of this light word?
+
+KATHARINE	A light condition in a beauty dark.
+
+ROSALINE	We need more light to find your meaning out.
+
+KATHARINE	You'll mar the light by taking it in snuff;
+	Therefore I'll darkly end the argument.
+
+ROSALINE	Look what you do, you do it still i' the dark.
+
+KATHARINE	So do not you, for you are a light wench.
+
+ROSALINE	Indeed I weigh not you, and therefore light.
+
+KATHARINE	You weigh me not? O, that's you care not for me.
+
+ROSALINE	Great reason; for 'past cure is still past care.'
+
+PRINCESS	Well bandied both; a set of wit well play'd.
+	But Rosaline, you have a favour too:
+	Who sent it? and what is it?
+
+ROSALINE	I would you knew:
+	An if my face were but as fair as yours,
+	My favour were as great; be witness this.
+	Nay, I have verses too, I thank Biron:
+	The numbers true; and, were the numbering too,
+	I were the fairest goddess on the ground:
+	I am compared to twenty thousand fairs.
+	O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter!
+
+PRINCESS	Any thing like?
+
+ROSALINE	Much in the letters; nothing in the praise.
+
+PRINCESS	Beauteous as ink; a good conclusion.
+
+KATHARINE	Fair as a text B in a copy-book.
+
+ROSALINE	'Ware pencils, ho! let me not die your debtor,
+	My red dominical, my golden letter:
+	O, that your face were not so full of O's!
+
+KATHARINE	A pox of that jest! and I beshrew all shrows.
+
+PRINCESS	But, Katharine, what was sent to you from fair Dumain?
+
+KATHARINE	Madam, this glove.
+
+PRINCESS	                  Did he not send you twain?
+
+KATHARINE	Yes, madam, and moreover
+	Some thousand verses of a faithful lover,
+	A huge translation of hypocrisy,
+	Vilely compiled, profound simplicity.
+
+MARIA	This and these pearls to me sent Longaville:
+	The letter is too long by half a mile.
+
+PRINCESS	I think no less. Dost thou not wish in heart
+	The chain were longer and the letter short?
+
+MARIA	Ay, or I would these hands might never part.
+
+PRINCESS	We are wise girls to mock our lovers so.
+
+ROSALINE	They are worse fools to purchase mocking so.
+	That same Biron I'll torture ere I go:
+	O that I knew he were but in by the week!
+	How I would make him fawn and beg and seek
+	And wait the season and observe the times
+	And spend his prodigal wits in bootless rhymes
+	And shape his service wholly to my hests
+	And make him proud to make me proud that jests!
+	So perttaunt-like would I o'ersway his state
+	That he should be my fool and I his fate.
+
+PRINCESS	None are so surely caught, when they are catch'd,
+	As wit turn'd fool: folly, in wisdom hatch'd,
+	Hath wisdom's warrant and the help of school
+	And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.
+
+ROSALINE	The blood of youth burns not with such excess
+	As gravity's revolt to wantonness.
+
+MARIA	Folly in fools bears not so strong a note
+	As foolery in the wise, when wit doth dote;
+	Since all the power thereof it doth apply
+	To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity.
+
+PRINCESS	Here comes Boyet, and mirth is in his face.
+
+	[Enter BOYET]
+
+BOYET	O, I am stabb'd with laughter! Where's her grace?
+
+PRINCESS	Thy news Boyet?
+
+BOYET	                  Prepare, madam, prepare!
+	Arm, wenches, arm! encounters mounted are
+	Against your peace: Love doth approach disguised,
+	Armed in arguments; you'll be surprised:
+	Muster your wits; stand in your own defence;
+	Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence.
+
+PRINCESS	Saint Denis to Saint Cupid! What are they
+	That charge their breath against us? say, scout, say.
+
+BOYET	Under the cool shade of a sycamore
+	I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour;
+	When, lo! to interrupt my purposed rest,
+	Toward that shade I might behold addrest
+	The king and his companions: warily
+	I stole into a neighbour thicket by,
+	And overheard what you shall overhear,
+	That, by and by, disguised they will be here.
+	Their herald is a pretty knavish page,
+	That well by heart hath conn'd his embassage:
+	Action and accent did they teach him there;
+	'Thus must thou speak,' and 'thus thy body bear:'
+	And ever and anon they made a doubt
+	Presence majestical would put him out,
+	'For,' quoth the king, 'an angel shalt thou see;
+	Yet fear not thou, but speak audaciously.'
+	The boy replied, 'An angel is not evil;
+	I should have fear'd her had she been a devil.'
+	With that, all laugh'd and clapp'd him on the shoulder,
+	Making the bold wag by their praises bolder:
+	One rubb'd his elbow thus, and fleer'd and swore
+	A better speech was never spoke before;
+	Another, with his finger and his thumb,
+	Cried, 'Via! we will do't, come what will come;'
+	The third he caper'd, and cried, 'All goes well;'
+	The fourth turn'd on the toe, and down he fell.
+	With that, they all did tumble on the ground,
+	With such a zealous laughter, so profound,
+	That in this spleen ridiculous appears,
+	To cheque their folly, passion's solemn tears.
+
+PRINCESS	But what, but what, come they to visit us?
+
+BOYET	They do, they do: and are apparell'd thus.
+	Like Muscovites or Russians, as I guess.
+	Their purpose is to parle, to court and dance;
+	And every one his love-feat will advance
+	Unto his several mistress, which they'll know
+	By favours several which they did bestow.
+
+PRINCESS	And will they so? the gallants shall be task'd;
+	For, ladies, we shall every one be mask'd;
+	And not a man of them shall have the grace,
+	Despite of suit, to see a lady's face.
+	Hold, Rosaline, this favour thou shalt wear,
+	And then the king will court thee for his dear;
+	Hold, take thou this, my sweet, and give me thine,
+	So shall Biron take me for Rosaline.
+	And change your favours too; so shall your loves
+	Woo contrary, deceived by these removes.
+
+ROSALINE	Come on, then; wear the favours most in sight.
+
+KATHARINE	But in this changing what is your intent?
+
+PRINCESS	The effect of my intent is to cross theirs:
+	They do it but in mocking merriment;
+	And mock for mock is only my intent.
+	Their several counsels they unbosom shall
+	To loves mistook, and so be mock'd withal
+	Upon the next occasion that we meet,
+	With visages displayed, to talk and greet.
+
+ROSALINE	But shall we dance, if they desire to't?
+
+PRINCESS	No, to the death, we will not move a foot;
+	Nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace,
+	But while 'tis spoke each turn away her face.
+
+BOYET	Why, that contempt will kill the speaker's heart,
+	And quite divorce his memory from his part.
+
+PRINCESS	Therefore I do it; and I make no doubt
+	The rest will ne'er come in, if he be out
+	There's no such sport as sport by sport o'erthrown,
+	To make theirs ours and ours none but our own:
+	So shall we stay, mocking intended game,
+	And they, well mock'd, depart away with shame.
+
+	[Trumpets sound within]
+
+BOYET	The trumpet sounds: be mask'd; the maskers come.
+
+	[The Ladies mask]
+
+	[Enter Blackamoors with music; MOTH; FERDINAND,
+	BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN, in Russian habits,
+	and masked]
+
+MOTH	All hail, the richest beauties on the earth!--
+
+BOYET	Beauties no richer than rich taffeta.
+
+MOTH	A holy parcel of the fairest dames.
+
+	[The Ladies turn their backs to him]
+
+	That ever turn'd their--backs--to mortal views!
+
+BIRON	[Aside to MOTH]  Their eyes, villain, their eyes!
+
+MOTH	That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views!--Out--
+
+BOYET	True; out indeed.
+
+MOTH	Out of your favours, heavenly spirits, vouchsafe
+	Not to behold--
+
+BIRON	[Aside to MOTH]  Once to behold, rogue.
+
+MOTH	Once to behold with your sun-beamed eyes,
+	--with your sun-beamed eyes--
+
+BOYET	They will not answer to that epithet;
+	You were best call it 'daughter-beamed eyes.'
+
+MOTH	They do not mark me, and that brings me out.
+
+BIRON	Is this your perfectness? be gone, you rogue!
+
+	[Exit MOTH]
+
+ROSALINE	What would these strangers? know their minds, Boyet:
+	If they do speak our language, 'tis our will:
+	That some plain man recount their purposes
+	Know what they would.
+
+BOYET	What would you with the princess?
+
+BIRON	Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
+
+ROSALINE	What would they, say they?
+
+BOYET	Nothing but peace and gentle visitation.
+
+ROSALINE	Why, that they have; and bid them so be gone.
+
+BOYET	She says, you have it, and you may be gone.
+
+FERDINAND	Say to her, we have measured many miles
+	To tread a measure with her on this grass.
+
+BOYET	They say, that they have measured many a mile
+	To tread a measure with you on this grass.
+
+ROSALINE	It is not so. Ask them how many inches
+	Is in one mile: if they have measured many,
+	The measure then of one is easily told.
+
+BOYET	If to come hither you have measured miles,
+	And many miles, the princess bids you tell
+	How many inches doth fill up one mile.
+
+BIRON	Tell her, we measure them by weary steps.
+
+BOYET	She hears herself.
+
+ROSALINE	                  How many weary steps,
+	Of many weary miles you have o'ergone,
+	Are number'd in the travel of one mile?
+
+BIRON	We number nothing that we spend for you:
+	Our duty is so rich, so infinite,
+	That we may do it still without accompt.
+	Vouchsafe to show the sunshine of your face,
+	That we, like savages, may worship it.
+
+ROSALINE	My face is but a moon, and clouded too.
+
+FERDINAND	Blessed are clouds, to do as such clouds do!
+	Vouchsafe, bright moon, and these thy stars, to shine,
+	Those clouds removed, upon our watery eyne.
+
+ROSALINE	O vain petitioner! beg a greater matter;
+	Thou now request'st but moonshine in the water.
+
+FERDINAND	Then, in our measure do but vouchsafe one change.
+	Thou bid'st me beg: this begging is not strange.
+
+ROSALINE	Play, music, then! Nay, you must do it soon.
+
+	[Music plays]
+
+	Not yet! no dance! Thus change I like the moon.
+
+FERDINAND	Will you not dance? How come you thus estranged?
+
+ROSALINE	You took the moon at full, but now she's changed.
+
+FERDINAND	Yet still she is the moon, and I the man.
+	The music plays; vouchsafe some motion to it.
+
+ROSALINE	Our ears vouchsafe it.
+
+FERDINAND	But your legs should do it.
+
+ROSALINE	Since you are strangers and come here by chance,
+	We'll not be nice: take hands. We will not dance.
+
+FERDINAND	Why take we hands, then?
+
+ROSALINE	Only to part friends:
+	Curtsy, sweet hearts; and so the measure ends.
+
+FERDINAND	More measure of this measure; be not nice.
+
+ROSALINE	We can afford no more at such a price.
+
+FERDINAND	Prize you yourselves: what buys your company?
+
+ROSALINE	Your absence only.
+
+FERDINAND	                  That can never be.
+
+ROSALINE	Then cannot we be bought: and so, adieu;
+	Twice to your visor, and half once to you.
+
+FERDINAND	If you deny to dance, let's hold more chat.
+
+ROSALINE	In private, then.
+
+FERDINAND	                  I am best pleased with that.
+
+	[They converse apart]
+
+BIRON	White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.
+
+PRINCESS	Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three.
+
+BIRON	Nay then, two treys, and if you grow so nice,
+	Metheglin, wort, and malmsey: well run, dice!
+	There's half-a-dozen sweets.
+
+PRINCESS	Seventh sweet, adieu:
+	Since you can cog, I'll play no more with you.
+
+BIRON	One word in secret.
+
+PRINCESS	Let it not be sweet.
+
+BIRON	Thou grievest my gall.
+
+PRINCESS	Gall! bitter.
+
+BIRON	Therefore meet.
+
+	[They converse apart]
+
+DUMAIN	Will you vouchsafe with me to change a word?
+
+MARIA	Name it.
+
+DUMAIN	       Fair lady,--
+
+MARIA	Say you so? Fair lord,--
+	Take that for your fair lady.
+
+DUMAIN	Please it you,
+	As much in private, and I'll bid adieu.
+
+	[They converse apart]
+
+KATHARINE	What, was your vizard made without a tongue?
+
+LONGAVILLE	I know the reason, lady, why you ask.
+
+KATHARINE	O for your reason! quickly, sir; I long.
+
+LONGAVILLE	You have a double tongue within your mask,
+	And would afford my speechless vizard half.
+
+KATHARINE	Veal, quoth the Dutchman. Is not 'veal' a calf?
+
+LONGAVILLE	A calf, fair lady!
+
+KATHARINE	                  No, a fair lord calf.
+
+LONGAVILLE	Let's part the word.
+
+KATHARINE	No, I'll not be your half
+	Take all, and wean it; it may prove an ox.
+
+LONGAVILLE	Look, how you butt yourself in these sharp mocks!
+	Will you give horns, chaste lady? do not so.
+
+KATHARINE	Then die a calf, before your horns do grow.
+
+LONGAVILLE	One word in private with you, ere I die.
+
+KATHARINE	Bleat softly then; the butcher hears you cry.
+
+	[They converse apart]
+
+BOYET	The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
+	As is the razor's edge invisible,
+	Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen,
+	Above the sense of sense; so sensible
+	Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings
+	Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things.
+
+ROSALINE	Not one word more, my maids; break off, break off.
+
+BIRON	By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff!
+
+FERDINAND	Farewell, mad wenches; you have simple wits.
+
+PRINCESS	Twenty adieus, my frozen Muscovits.
+
+	[Exeunt FERDINAND, Lords, and Blackamoors]
+
+	Are these the breed of wits so wonder'd at?
+
+BOYET	Tapers they are, with your sweet breaths puff'd out.
+
+ROSALINE	Well-liking wits they have; gross, gross; fat, fat.
+
+PRINCESS	O poverty in wit, kingly-poor flout!
+	Will they not, think you, hang themselves tonight?
+	Or ever, but in vizards, show their faces?
+	This pert Biron was out of countenance quite.
+
+ROSALINE	O, they were all in lamentable cases!
+	The king was weeping-ripe for a good word.
+
+PRINCESS	Biron did swear himself out of all suit.
+
+MARIA	Dumain was at my service, and his sword:
+	No point, quoth I; my servant straight was mute.
+
+KATHARINE	Lord Longaville said, I came o'er his heart;
+	And trow you what he called me?
+
+PRINCESS	Qualm, perhaps.
+
+KATHARINE	Yes, in good faith.
+
+PRINCESS	Go, sickness as thou art!
+
+ROSALINE	Well, better wits have worn plain statute-caps.
+	But will you hear? the king is my love sworn.
+
+PRINCESS	And quick Biron hath plighted faith to me.
+
+KATHARINE	And Longaville was for my service born.
+
+MARIA	Dumain is mine, as sure as bark on tree.
+
+BOYET	Madam, and pretty mistresses, give ear:
+	Immediately they will again be here
+	In their own shapes; for it can never be
+	They will digest this harsh indignity.
+
+PRINCESS	Will they return?
+
+BOYET	                  They will, they will, God knows,
+	And leap for joy, though they are lame with blows:
+	Therefore change favours; and, when they repair,
+	Blow like sweet roses in this summer air.
+
+PRINCESS	How blow? how blow? speak to be understood.
+
+BOYET	Fair ladies mask'd are roses in their bud;
+	Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown,
+	Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.
+
+PRINCESS	Avaunt, perplexity! What shall we do,
+	If they return in their own shapes to woo?
+
+ROSALINE	Good madam, if by me you'll be advised,
+	Let's, mock them still, as well known as disguised:
+	Let us complain to them what fools were here,
+	Disguised like Muscovites, in shapeless gear;
+	And wonder what they were and to what end
+	Their shallow shows and prologue vilely penn'd
+	And their rough carriage so ridiculous,
+	Should be presented at our tent to us.
+
+BOYET	Ladies, withdraw: the gallants are at hand.
+
+PRINCESS	Whip to our tents, as roes run o'er land.
+
+	[Exeunt PRINCESS, ROSALINE, KATHARINE, and MARIA]
+
+	[Re-enter FERDINAND, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and DUMAIN,
+	in their proper habits]
+
+FERDINAND	Fair sir, God save you! Where's the princess?
+
+BOYET	Gone to her tent. Please it your majesty
+	Command me any service to her thither?
+
+FERDINAND	That she vouchsafe me audience for one word.
+
+BOYET	I will; and so will she, I know, my lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BIRON	This fellow pecks up wit as pigeons pease,
+	And utters it again when God doth please:
+	He is wit's pedler, and retails his wares
+	At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs;
+	And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know,
+	Have not the grace to grace it with such show.
+	This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve;
+	Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve;
+	A' can carve too, and lisp: why, this is he
+	That kiss'd his hand away in courtesy;
+	This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice,
+	That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice
+	In honourable terms: nay, he can sing
+	A mean most meanly; and in ushering
+	Mend him who can: the ladies call him sweet;
+	The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet:
+	This is the flower that smiles on every one,
+	To show his teeth as white as whale's bone;
+	And consciences, that will not die in debt,
+	Pay him the due of honey-tongued Boyet.
+
+FERDINAND	A blister on his sweet tongue, with my heart,
+	That put Armado's page out of his part!
+
+BIRON	See where it comes! Behavior, what wert thou
+	Till this madman show'd thee? and what art thou now?
+
+	[Re-enter the PRINCESS, ushered by BOYET, ROSALINE,
+	MARIA, and KATHARINE]
+
+FERDINAND	All hail, sweet madam, and fair time of day!
+
+PRINCESS	'Fair' in 'all hail' is foul, as I conceive.
+
+FERDINAND	Construe my speeches better, if you may.
+
+PRINCESS	Then wish me better; I will give you leave.
+
+FERDINAND	We came to visit you, and purpose now
+	To lead you to our court; vouchsafe it then.
+
+PRINCESS	This field shall hold me; and so hold your vow:
+	Nor God, nor I, delights in perjured men.
+
+FERDINAND	Rebuke me not for that which you provoke:
+	The virtue of your eye must break my oath.
+
+PRINCESS	You nickname virtue; vice you should have spoke;
+	For virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
+	Now by my maiden honour, yet as pure
+	As the unsullied lily, I protest,
+	A world of torments though I should endure,
+	I would not yield to be your house's guest;
+	So much I hate a breaking cause to be
+	Of heavenly oaths, vow'd with integrity.
+
+FERDINAND	O, you have lived in desolation here,
+	Unseen, unvisited, much to our shame.
+
+PRINCESS	Not so, my lord; it is not so, I swear;
+	We have had pastimes here and pleasant game:
+	A mess of Russians left us but of late.
+
+FERDINAND	How, madam! Russians!
+
+PRINCESS	Ay, in truth, my lord;
+	Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state.
+
+ROSALINE	Madam, speak true. It is not so, my lord:
+	My lady, to the manner of the days,
+	In courtesy gives undeserving praise.
+	We four indeed confronted were with four
+	In Russian habit: here they stay'd an hour,
+	And talk'd apace; and in that hour, my lord,
+	They did not bless us with one happy word.
+	I dare not call them fools; but this I think,
+	When they are thirsty, fools would fain have drink.
+
+BIRON	This jest is dry to me. Fair gentle sweet,
+	Your wit makes wise things foolish: when we greet,
+	With eyes best seeing, heaven's fiery eye,
+	By light we lose light: your capacity
+	Is of that nature that to your huge store
+	Wise things seem foolish and rich things but poor.
+
+ROSALINE	This proves you wise and rich, for in my eye,--
+
+BIRON	I am a fool, and full of poverty.
+
+ROSALINE	But that you take what doth to you belong,
+	It were a fault to snatch words from my tongue.
+
+BIRON	O, I am yours, and all that I possess!
+
+ROSALINE	All the fool mine?
+
+BIRON	                  I cannot give you less.
+
+ROSALINE	Which of the vizards was it that you wore?
+
+BIRON	Where? when? what vizard? why demand you this?
+
+ROSALINE	There, then, that vizard; that superfluous case
+	That hid the worse and show'd the better face.
+
+FERDINAND	We are descried; they'll mock us now downright.
+
+DUMAIN	Let us confess and turn it to a jest.
+
+PRINCESS	Amazed, my lord? why looks your highness sad?
+
+ROSALINE	Help, hold his brows! he'll swoon! Why look you pale?
+	Sea-sick, I think, coming from Muscovy.
+
+BIRON	Thus pour the stars down plagues for perjury.
+	Can any face of brass hold longer out?
+	Here stand I	lady, dart thy skill at me;
+	Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout;
+	Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance;
+	Cut me to pieces with thy keen conceit;
+	And I will wish thee never more to dance,
+	Nor never more in Russian habit wait.
+	O, never will I trust to speeches penn'd,
+	Nor to the motion of a schoolboy's tongue,
+	Nor never come in vizard to my friend,
+	Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song!
+	Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise,
+	Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation,
+	Figures pedantical; these summer-flies
+	Have blown me full of maggot ostentation:
+	I do forswear them; and I here protest,
+	By this white glove;--how white the hand, God knows!--
+	Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express'd
+	In russet yeas and honest kersey noes:
+	And, to begin, wench,--so God help me, la!--
+	My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
+
+ROSALINE	Sans sans, I pray you.
+
+BIRON	Yet I have a trick
+	Of the old rage: bear with me, I am sick;
+	I'll leave it by degrees. Soft, let us see:
+	Write, 'Lord have mercy on us' on those three;
+	They are infected; in their hearts it lies;
+	They have the plague, and caught it of your eyes;
+	These lords are visited; you are not free,
+	For the Lord's tokens on you do I see.
+
+PRINCESS	No, they are free that gave these tokens to us.
+
+BIRON	Our states are forfeit: seek not to undo us.
+
+ROSALINE	It is not so; for how can this be true,
+	That you stand forfeit, being those that sue?
+
+BIRON	Peace! for I will not have to do with you.
+
+ROSALINE	Nor shall not, if I do as I intend.
+
+BIRON	Speak for yourselves; my wit is at an end.
+
+FERDINAND	Teach us, sweet madam, for our rude transgression
+	Some fair excuse.
+
+PRINCESS	                  The fairest is confession.
+	Were not you here but even now disguised?
+
+FERDINAND	Madam, I was.
+
+PRINCESS	                  And were you well advised?
+
+FERDINAND	I was, fair madam.
+
+PRINCESS	                  When you then were here,
+	What did you whisper in your lady's ear?
+
+FERDINAND	That more than all the world I did respect her.
+
+PRINCESS	When she shall challenge this, you will reject her.
+
+FERDINAND	Upon mine honour, no.
+
+PRINCESS	Peace, peace! forbear:
+	Your oath once broke, you force not to forswear.
+
+FERDINAND	Despise me, when I break this oath of mine.
+
+PRINCESS	I will: and therefore keep it. Rosaline,
+	What did the Russian whisper in your ear?
+
+ROSALINE	Madam, he swore that he did hold me dear
+	As precious eyesight, and did value me
+	Above this world; adding thereto moreover
+	That he would wed me, or else die my lover.
+
+PRINCESS	God give thee joy of him! the noble lord
+	Most honourably doth unhold his word.
+
+FERDINAND	What mean you, madam? by my life, my troth,
+	I never swore this lady such an oath.
+
+ROSALINE	By heaven, you did; and to confirm it plain,
+	You gave me this: but take it, sir, again.
+
+FERDINAND	My faith and this the princess I did give:
+	I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve.
+
+PRINCESS	Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear;
+	And Lord Biron, I thank him, is my dear.
+	What, will you have me, or your pearl again?
+
+BIRON	Neither of either; I remit both twain.
+	I see the trick on't: here was a consent,
+	Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
+	To dash it like a Christmas comedy:
+	Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight zany,
+	Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some Dick,
+	That smiles his cheek in years and knows the trick
+	To make my lady laugh when she's disposed,
+	Told our intents before; which once disclosed,
+	The ladies did change favours: and then we,
+	Following the signs, woo'd but the sign of she.
+	Now, to our perjury to add more terror,
+	We are again forsworn, in will and error.
+	Much upon this it is: and might not you
+
+	[To BOYET]
+
+	Forestall our sport, to make us thus untrue?
+	Do not you know my lady's foot by the squier,
+	And laugh upon the apple of her eye?
+	And stand between her back, sir, and the fire,
+	Holding a trencher, jesting merrily?
+	You put our page out: go, you are allow'd;
+	Die when you will, a smock shall be your shroud.
+	You leer upon me, do you? there's an eye
+	Wounds like a leaden sword.
+
+BOYET	Full merrily
+	Hath this brave manage, this career, been run.
+
+BIRON	Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace! I have done.
+
+	[Enter COSTARD]
+
+	Welcome, pure wit! thou partest a fair fray.
+
+COSTARD	O Lord, sir, they would know
+	Whether the three Worthies shall come in or no.
+
+BIRON	What, are there but three?
+
+COSTARD	No, sir; but it is vara fine,
+	For every one pursents three.
+
+BIRON	And three times thrice is nine.
+
+COSTARD	Not so, sir; under correction, sir; I hope it is not so.
+	You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir we know
+	what we know:
+	I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir,--
+
+BIRON	Is not nine.
+
+COSTARD	Under correction, sir, we know whereuntil it doth amount.
+
+BIRON	By Jove, I always took three threes for nine.
+
+COSTARD	O Lord, sir, it were pity you should get your living
+	by reckoning, sir.
+
+BIRON	How much is it?
+
+COSTARD	O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors,
+	sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for mine
+	own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man
+	in one poor man, Pompion the Great, sir.
+
+BIRON	Art thou one of the Worthies?
+
+COSTARD	It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompion the
+	Great: for mine own part, I know not the degree of
+	the Worthy, but I am to stand for him.
+
+BIRON	Go, bid them prepare.
+
+COSTARD	We will turn it finely off, sir; we will take
+	some care.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FERDINAND	Biron, they will shame us: let them not approach.
+
+BIRON	We are shame-proof, my lord: and tis some policy
+	To have one show worse than the king's and his company.
+
+FERDINAND	I say they shall not come.
+
+PRINCESS	Nay, my good lord, let me o'errule you now:
+	That sport best pleases that doth least know how:
+	Where zeal strives to content, and the contents
+	Dies in the zeal of that which it presents:
+	Their form confounded makes most form in mirth,
+	When great things labouring perish in their birth.
+
+BIRON	A right description of our sport, my lord.
+
+	[Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO]
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal
+	sweet breath as will utter a brace of words.
+
+	[Converses apart with FERDINAND, and delivers him a paper]
+
+PRINCESS	Doth this man serve God?
+
+BIRON	Why ask you?
+
+PRINCESS	He speaks not like a man of God's making.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	That is all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch; for,
+	I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding
+	fantastical; too, too vain, too too vain: but we
+	will put it, as they say, to fortuna de la guerra.
+	I wish you the peace of mind, most royal couplement!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FERDINAND	Here is like to be a good presence of Worthies. He
+	presents Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the
+	Great; the parish curate, Alexander; Armado's page,
+	Hercules; the pedant, Judas Maccabaeus: And if
+	these four Worthies in their first show thrive,
+	These four will change habits, and present the other five.
+
+BIRON	There is five in the first show.
+
+FERDINAND	You are deceived; 'tis not so.
+
+BIRON	The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, the fool
+	and the boy:--
+	Abate throw at novum, and the whole world again
+	Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his vein.
+
+FERDINAND	The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain.
+
+	[Enter COSTARD, for Pompey]
+
+COSTARD	I Pompey am,--
+
+BOYET	                  You lie, you are not he.
+
+COSTARD	I Pompey am,--
+
+BOYET	                  With libbard's head on knee.
+
+BIRON	Well said, old mocker: I must needs be friends
+	with thee.
+
+COSTARD	I Pompey am, Pompey surnamed the Big--
+
+DUMAIN	The Great.
+
+COSTARD	It is, 'Great,' sir:--
+		 Pompey surnamed the Great;
+	That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make
+	my foe to sweat:
+	And travelling along this coast, I here am come by chance,
+	And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France,
+	If your ladyship would say, 'Thanks, Pompey,' I had done.
+
+PRINCESS	Great thanks, great Pompey.
+
+COSTARD	'Tis not so much worth; but I hope I was perfect: I
+	made a little fault in 'Great.'
+
+BIRON	My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best Worthy.
+
+	[Enter SIR NATHANIEL, for Alexander]
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	When in the world I lived, I was the world's
+	commander;
+	By east, west, north, and south, I spread my
+	conquering might:
+	My scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander,--
+
+BOYET	Your nose says, no, you are not for it stands too right.
+
+BIRON	Your nose smells 'no' in this, most tender-smelling knight.
+
+PRINCESS	The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good Alexander.
+
+SIR NATHANIEL	When in the world I lived, I was the world's
+	commander,--
+
+BOYET	Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Alisander.
+
+BIRON	Pompey the Great,--
+
+COSTARD	Your servant, and Costard.
+
+BIRON	Take away the conqueror, take away Alisander.
+
+COSTARD	[To SIR NATHANIEL]  O, sir, you have overthrown
+	Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of
+	the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds
+	his poll-axe sitting on a close-stool, will be given
+	to Ajax: he will be the ninth Worthy. A conqueror,
+	and afeard to speak! run away for shame, Alisander.
+
+	[SIR NATHANIEL retires]
+
+	There, an't shall please you; a foolish mild man; an
+	honest man, look you, and soon dashed. He is a
+	marvellous good neighbour, faith, and a very good
+	bowler: but, for Alisander,--alas, you see how
+	'tis,--a little o'erparted. But there are Worthies
+	a-coming will speak their mind in some other sort.
+
+	[Enter HOLOFERNES, for Judas; and MOTH, for Hercules]
+
+HOLOFERNES	   Great Hercules is presented by this imp,
+	Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed canis;
+	And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,
+	Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus.
+	Quoniam he seemeth in minority,
+	Ergo I come with this apology.
+	Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.
+
+	[MOTH retires]
+
+	Judas I am,--
+
+DUMAIN	A Judas!
+
+HOLOFERNES	Not Iscariot, sir.
+	Judas I am, ycliped Maccabaeus.
+
+DUMAIN	Judas Maccabaeus clipt is plain Judas.
+
+BIRON	A kissing traitor. How art thou proved Judas?
+
+HOLOFERNES	Judas I am,--
+
+DUMAIN	The more shame for you, Judas.
+
+HOLOFERNES	What mean you, sir?
+
+BOYET	To make Judas hang himself.
+
+HOLOFERNES	Begin, sir; you are my elder.
+
+BIRON	Well followed: Judas was hanged on an elder.
+
+HOLOFERNES	I will not be put out of countenance.
+
+BIRON	Because thou hast no face.
+
+HOLOFERNES	What is this?
+
+BOYET	A cittern-head.
+
+DUMAIN	The head of a bodkin.
+
+BIRON	A Death's face in a ring.
+
+LONGAVILLE	The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.
+
+BOYET	The pommel of Caesar's falchion.
+
+DUMAIN	The carved-bone face on a flask.
+
+BIRON	Saint George's half-cheek in a brooch.
+
+DUMAIN	Ay, and in a brooch of lead.
+
+BIRON	Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer.
+	And now forward; for we have put thee in countenance.
+
+HOLOFERNES	You have put me out of countenance.
+
+BIRON	False; we have given thee faces.
+
+HOLOFERNES	But you have out-faced them all.
+
+BIRON	An thou wert a lion, we would do so.
+
+BOYET	Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go.
+	And so adieu, sweet Jude! nay, why dost thou stay?
+
+DUMAIN	For the latter end of his name.
+
+BIRON	For the ass to the Jude; give it him:--Jud-as, away!
+
+HOLOFERNES	This is not generous, not gentle, not humble.
+
+BOYET	A light for Monsieur Judas! it grows dark, he may stumble.
+
+	[HOLOFERNES retires]
+
+PRINCESS	Alas, poor Maccabaeus, how hath he been baited!
+
+	[Enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO, for Hector]
+
+BIRON	Hide thy head, Achilles: here comes Hector in arms.
+
+DUMAIN	Though my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry.
+
+FERDINAND	Hector was but a Troyan in respect of this.
+
+BOYET	But is this Hector?
+
+FERDINAND	I think Hector was not so clean-timbered.
+
+LONGAVILLE	His leg is too big for Hector's.
+
+DUMAIN	More calf, certain.
+
+BOYET	No; he is best endued in the small.
+
+BIRON	This cannot be Hector.
+
+DUMAIN	He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,
+	Gave Hector a gift,--
+
+DUMAIN	A gilt nutmeg.
+
+BIRON	A lemon.
+
+LONGAVILLE	Stuck with cloves.
+
+DUMAIN	No, cloven.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Peace!--
+	The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty
+	Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;
+	A man so breathed, that certain he would fight; yea
+	From morn till night, out of his pavilion.
+	I am that flower,--
+
+DUMAIN	That mint.
+
+LONGAVILLE	That columbine.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sweet Lord Longaville, rein thy tongue.
+
+LONGAVILLE	I must rather give it the rein, for it runs against Hector.
+
+DUMAIN	Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	The sweet war-man is dead and rotten; sweet chucks,
+	beat not the bones of the buried: when he breathed,
+	he was a man. But I will forward with my device.
+
+	[To the PRINCESS]
+
+	Sweet royalty, bestow on me the sense of hearing.
+
+PRINCESS	Speak, brave Hector: we are much delighted.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper.
+
+BOYET	[Aside to DUMAIN]  Loves her by the foot,--
+
+DUMAIN	[Aside to BOYET]  He may not by the yard.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	This Hector far surmounted Hannibal,--
+
+COSTARD	The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she
+	is two months on her way.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	What meanest thou?
+
+COSTARD	Faith, unless you play the honest Troyan, the poor
+	wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brags in
+	her belly already: tis yours.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt
+	die.
+
+COSTARD	Then shall Hector be whipped for Jaquenetta that is
+	quick by him and hanged for Pompey that is dead by
+	him.
+
+DUMAIN	Most rare Pompey!
+
+BOYET	Renowned Pompey!
+
+BIRON	Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey!
+	Pompey the Huge!
+
+DUMAIN	Hector trembles.
+
+BIRON	Pompey is moved. More Ates, more Ates! stir them
+	on! stir them on!
+
+DUMAIN	Hector will challenge him.
+
+BIRON	Ay, if a' have no man's blood in's belly than will
+	sup a flea.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	By the north pole, I do challenge thee.
+
+COSTARD	I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man:
+	I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword. I bepray you,
+	let me borrow my arms again.
+
+DUMAIN	Room for the incensed Worthies!
+
+COSTARD	I'll do it in my shirt.
+
+DUMAIN	Most resolute Pompey!
+
+MOTH	Master, let me take you a buttonhole lower. Do you
+	not see Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What mean
+	you? You will lose your reputation.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat
+	in my shirt.
+
+DUMAIN	You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
+
+BIRON	What reason have you for't?
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go
+	woolward for penance.
+
+BOYET	True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of
+	linen: since when, I'll be sworn, he wore none but
+	a dishclout of Jaquenetta's, and that a' wears next
+	his heart for a favour.
+
+	[Enter MERCADE]
+
+MERCADE	God save you, madam!
+
+PRINCESS	Welcome, Mercade;
+	But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.
+
+MERCADE	I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring
+	Is heavy in my tongue. The king your father--
+
+PRINCESS	Dead, for my life!
+
+MERCADE	Even so; my tale is told.
+
+BIRON	Worthies, away! the scene begins to cloud.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	For mine own part, I breathe free breath. I have
+	seen the day of wrong through the little hole of
+	discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier.
+
+	[Exeunt Worthies]
+
+FERDINAND	How fares your majesty?
+
+PRINCESS	Boyet, prepare; I will away tonight.
+
+FERDINAND	Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay.
+
+PRINCESS	Prepare, I say. I thank you, gracious lords,
+	For all your fair endeavors; and entreat,
+	Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
+	In your rich wisdom to excuse or hide
+	The liberal opposition of our spirits,
+	If over-boldly we have borne ourselves
+	In the converse of breath: your gentleness
+	Was guilty of it. Farewell worthy lord!
+	A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue:
+	Excuse me so, coming too short of thanks
+	For my great suit so easily obtain'd.
+
+FERDINAND	The extreme parts of time extremely forms
+	All causes to the purpose of his speed,
+	And often at his very loose decides
+	That which long process could not arbitrate:
+	And though the mourning brow of progeny
+	Forbid the smiling courtesy of love
+	The holy suit which fain it would convince,
+	Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
+	Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it
+	From what it purposed; since, to wail friends lost
+	Is not by much so wholesome-profitable
+	As to rejoice at friends but newly found.
+
+PRINCESS	I understand you not: my griefs are double.
+
+BIRON	Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief;
+	And by these badges understand the king.
+	For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
+	Play'd foul play with our oaths: your beauty, ladies,
+	Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humours
+	Even to the opposed end of our intents:
+	And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,--
+	As love is full of unbefitting strains,
+	All wanton as a child, skipping and vain,
+	Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye,
+	Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms,
+	Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
+	To every varied object in his glance:
+	Which parti-coated presence of loose love
+	Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,
+	Have misbecomed our oaths and gravities,
+	Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults,
+	Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies,
+	Our love being yours, the error that love makes
+	Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false,
+	By being once false for ever to be true
+	To those that make us both,--fair ladies, you:
+	And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
+	Thus purifies itself and turns to grace.
+
+PRINCESS	We have received your letters full of love;
+	Your favours, the ambassadors of love;
+	And, in our maiden council, rated them
+	At courtship, pleasant jest and courtesy,
+	As bombast and as lining to the time:
+	But more devout than this in our respects
+	Have we not been; and therefore met your loves
+	In their own fashion, like a merriment.
+
+DUMAIN	Our letters, madam, show'd much more than jest.
+
+LONGAVILLE	So did our looks.
+
+ROSALINE	                  We did not quote them so.
+
+FERDINAND	Now, at the latest minute of the hour,
+	Grant us your loves.
+
+PRINCESS	A time, methinks, too short
+	To make a world-without-end bargain in.
+	No, no, my lord, your grace is perjured much,
+	Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this:
+	If for my love, as there is no such cause,
+	You will do aught, this shall you do for me:
+	Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
+	To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
+	Remote from all the pleasures of the world;
+	There stay until the twelve celestial signs
+	Have brought about the annual reckoning.
+	If this austere insociable life
+	Change not your offer made in heat of blood;
+	If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weeds
+	Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,
+	But that it bear this trial and last love;
+	Then, at the expiration of the year,
+	Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts,
+	And, by this virgin palm now kissing thine
+	I will be thine; and till that instant shut
+	My woeful self up in a mourning house,
+	Raining the tears of lamentation
+	For the remembrance of my father's death.
+	If this thou do deny, let our hands part,
+	Neither entitled in the other's heart.
+
+FERDINAND	If this, or more than this, I would deny,
+	To flatter up these powers of mine with rest,
+	The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!
+	Hence ever then my heart is in thy breast.
+
+BIRON	[And what to me, my love? and what to me?
+
+ROSALINE	You must be purged too, your sins are rack'd,
+	You are attaint with faults and perjury:
+	Therefore if you my favour mean to get,
+	A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest,
+	But seek the weary beds of people sick]
+
+DUMAIN	But what to me, my love? but what to me? A wife?
+
+KATHARINE	A beard, fair health, and honesty;
+	With three-fold love I wish you all these three.
+
+DUMAIN	O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife?
+
+KATHARINE	Not so, my lord; a twelvemonth and a day
+	I'll mark no words that smooth-faced wooers say:
+	Come when the king doth to my lady come;
+	Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.
+
+DUMAIN	I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.
+
+KATHARINE	Yet swear not, lest ye be forsworn again.
+
+LONGAVILLE	What says Maria?
+
+MARIA	                  At the twelvemonth's end
+	I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend.
+
+LONGAVILLE	I'll stay with patience; but the time is long.
+
+MARIA	The liker you; few taller are so young.
+
+BIRON	Studies my lady? mistress, look on me;
+	Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
+	What humble suit attends thy answer there:
+	Impose some service on me for thy love.
+
+ROSALINE	Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Biron,
+	Before I saw you; and the world's large tongue
+	Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks,
+	Full of comparisons and wounding flouts,
+	Which you on all estates will execute
+	That lie within the mercy of your wit.
+	To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain,
+	And therewithal to win me, if you please,
+	Without the which I am not to be won,
+	You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day
+	Visit the speechless sick and still converse
+	With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,
+	With all the fierce endeavor of your wit
+	To enforce the pained impotent to smile.
+
+BIRON	To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
+	It cannot be; it is impossible:
+	Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
+
+ROSALINE	Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit,
+	Whose influence is begot of that loose grace
+	Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools:
+	A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
+	Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
+	Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears,
+	Deaf'd with the clamours of their own dear groans,
+	Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,
+	And I will have you and that fault withal;
+	But if they will not, throw away that spirit,
+	And I shall find you empty of that fault,
+	Right joyful of your reformation.
+
+BIRON	A twelvemonth! well; befall what will befall,
+	I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital.
+
+PRINCESS	[To FERDINAND]  Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take my leave.
+
+FERDINAND	No, madam; we will bring you on your way.
+
+BIRON	Our wooing doth not end like an old play;
+	Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy
+	Might well have made our sport a comedy.
+
+FERDINAND	Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day,
+	And then 'twill end.
+
+BIRON	That's too long for a play.
+
+	[Re-enter DON ADRIANO DE ARMADO]
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,--
+
+PRINCESS	Was not that Hector?
+
+DUMAIN	The worthy knight of Troy.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave. I am
+	a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the
+	plough for her sweet love three years. But, most
+	esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that
+	the two learned men have compiled in praise of the
+	owl and the cuckoo? It should have followed in the
+	end of our show.
+
+FERDINAND	Call them forth quickly; we will do so.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	Holla! approach.
+
+	[Re-enter HOLOFERNES, SIR NATHANIEL, MOTH, COSTARD,
+	and others]
+
+	This side is Hiems, Winter, this Ver, the Spring;
+	the one maintained by the owl, the other by the
+	cuckoo. Ver, begin.
+
+	[THE SONG]
+	
+	SPRING.
+	When daisies pied and violets blue
+	And lady-smocks all silver-white
+	And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
+	Do paint the meadows with delight,
+	The cuckoo then, on every tree,
+	Mocks married men; for thus sings he, 	Cuckoo;
+	Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear,
+	Unpleasing to a married ear!
+
+	When shepherds pipe on oaten straws
+	And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,
+	When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
+	And maidens bleach their summer smocks
+	The cuckoo then, on every tree,
+	Mocks married men; for thus sings he, 	Cuckoo;
+	Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear,
+	Unpleasing to a married ear!
+	
+	WINTER.
+	When icicles hang by the wall
+	And Dick the shepherd blows his nail
+	And Tom bears logs into the hall
+	And milk comes frozen home in pail,
+	When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul,
+	Then nightly sings the staring owl, 	Tu-whit;
+	Tu-who, a merry note,
+	While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
+
+	When all aloud the wind doth blow
+	And coughing drowns the parson's saw
+	And birds sit brooding in the snow
+	And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
+	When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
+	Then nightly sings the staring owl, 	Tu-whit;
+	Tu-who, a merry note,
+	While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
+
+DON
+ADRIANO DE ARMADO	The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of
+	Apollo. You that way: we this way.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+VINCENTIO	the Duke. (DUKE VINCENTIO:)
+
+ANGELO	Deputy.
+
+ESCALUS	an ancient Lord.
+
+CLAUDIO	a young gentleman.
+
+LUCIO	a fantastic.
+
+	Two other gentlemen.
+	(First Gentleman:)
+	(Second Gentleman:)
+	Provost.
+
+
+PETER	(FRIAR PETER:)	|
+		|  two friars.
+THOMAS	(FRIAR THOMAS:)	|
+
+
+	A Justice.
+
+VARRIUS:
+
+ELBOW	a simple constable.
+
+FROTH	a foolish gentleman.
+
+POMPEY	servant to Mistress Overdone.
+
+ABHORSON	an executioner.
+
+BARNARDINE	a dissolute prisoner.
+
+ISABELLA	sister to Claudio.
+
+MARIANA	betrothed to Angelo.
+
+JULIET	beloved of Claudio.
+
+FRANCISCA	a nun.
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	a bawd.
+
+	Lords, Officers, Citizens, Boy, and Attendant.
+	(Servant:)
+	(Messenger:)
+
+
+SCENE	Vienna.
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+SCENE I	An apartment in the DUKE'S palace.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE VINCENTIO, ESCALUS, Lords and
+	Attendants]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Escalus.
+
+ESCALUS	My lord.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Of government the properties to unfold,
+	Would seem in me to affect speech and discourse;
+	Since I am put to know that your own science
+	Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice
+	My strength can give you: then no more remains,
+	But that to your sufficiency [           ]
+	[                  ] as your Worth is able,
+	And let them work. The nature of our people,
+	Our city's institutions, and the terms
+	For common justice, you're as pregnant in
+	As art and practise hath enriched any
+	That we remember. There is our commission,
+	From which we would not have you warp. Call hither,
+	I say, bid come before us Angelo.
+
+	[Exit an Attendant]
+
+	What figure of us think you he will bear?
+	For you must know, we have with special soul
+	Elected him our absence to supply,
+	Lent him our terror, dress'd him with our love,
+	And given his deputation all the organs
+	Of our own power: what think you of it?
+
+ESCALUS	If any in Vienna be of worth
+	To undergo such ample grace and honour,
+	It is Lord Angelo.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	                  Look where he comes.
+
+	[Enter ANGELO]
+
+ANGELO	Always obedient to your grace's will,
+	I come to know your pleasure.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Angelo,
+	There is a kind of character in thy life,
+	That to the observer doth thy history
+	Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings
+	Are not thine own so proper as to waste
+	Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee.
+	Heaven doth with us as we with torches do,
+	Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues
+	Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike
+	As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd
+	But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends
+	The smallest scruple of her excellence
+	But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines
+	Herself the glory of a creditor,
+	Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech
+	To one that can my part in him advertise;
+	Hold therefore, Angelo:--
+	In our remove be thou at full ourself;
+	Mortality and mercy in Vienna
+	Live in thy tongue and heart: old Escalus,
+	Though first in question, is thy secondary.
+	Take thy commission.
+
+ANGELO	Now, good my lord,
+	Let there be some more test made of my metal,
+	Before so noble and so great a figure
+	Be stamp'd upon it.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	No more evasion:
+	We have with a leaven'd and prepared choice
+	Proceeded to you; therefore take your honours.
+	Our haste from hence is of so quick condition
+	That it prefers itself and leaves unquestion'd
+	Matters of needful value. We shall write to you,
+	As time and our concernings shall importune,
+	How it goes with us, and do look to know
+	What doth befall you here. So, fare you well;
+	To the hopeful execution do I leave you
+	Of your commissions.
+
+ANGELO	Yet give leave, my lord,
+	That we may bring you something on the way.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	My haste may not admit it;
+	Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do
+	With any scruple; your scope is as mine own
+	So to enforce or qualify the laws
+	As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand:
+	I'll privily away. I love the people,
+	But do not like to stage me to their eyes:
+	Through it do well, I do not relish well
+	Their loud applause and Aves vehement;
+	Nor do I think the man of safe discretion
+	That does affect it. Once more, fare you well.
+
+ANGELO	The heavens give safety to your purposes!
+
+ESCALUS	Lead forth and bring you back in happiness!
+
+DUKE	I thank you. Fare you well.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ESCALUS	I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave
+	To have free speech with you; and it concerns me
+	To look into the bottom of my place:
+	A power I have, but of what strength and nature
+	I am not yet instructed.
+
+ANGELO	'Tis so with me. Let us withdraw together,
+	And we may soon our satisfaction have
+	Touching that point.
+
+ESCALUS	I'll wait upon your honour.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+SCENE II	A Street.
+
+
+	[Enter LUCIO and two Gentlemen]
+
+LUCIO	If the duke with the other dukes come not to
+	composition with the King of Hungary, why then all
+	the dukes fall upon the king.
+
+First Gentleman	Heaven grant us its peace, but not the King of
+	Hungary's!
+
+Second Gentleman	Amen.
+
+LUCIO	Thou concludest like the sanctimonious pirate, that
+	went to sea with the Ten Commandments, but scraped
+	one out of the table.
+
+Second Gentleman	'Thou shalt not steal'?
+
+LUCIO	Ay, that he razed.
+
+First Gentleman	Why, 'twas a commandment to command the captain and
+	all the rest from their functions: they put forth
+	to steal. There's not a soldier of us all, that, in
+	the thanksgiving before meat, do relish the petition
+	well that prays for peace.
+
+Second Gentleman	I never heard any soldier dislike it.
+
+LUCIO	I believe thee; for I think thou never wast where
+	grace was said.
+
+Second Gentleman	No? a dozen times at least.
+
+First Gentleman	What, in metre?
+
+LUCIO	In any proportion or in any language.
+
+First Gentleman	I think, or in any religion.
+
+LUCIO	Ay, why not? Grace is grace, despite of all
+	controversy: as, for example, thou thyself art a
+	wicked villain, despite of all grace.
+
+First Gentleman	Well, there went but a pair of shears between us.
+
+LUCIO	I grant; as there may between the lists and the
+	velvet. Thou art the list.
+
+First Gentleman	And thou the velvet: thou art good velvet; thou'rt
+	a three-piled piece, I warrant thee: I had as lief
+	be a list of an English kersey as be piled, as thou
+	art piled, for a French velvet. Do I speak
+	feelingly now?
+
+LUCIO	I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful
+	feeling of thy speech: I will, out of thine own
+	confession, learn to begin thy health; but, whilst I
+	live, forget to drink after thee.
+
+First Gentleman	I think I have done myself wrong, have I not?
+
+Second Gentleman	Yes, that thou hast, whether thou art tainted or free.
+
+LUCIO	Behold, behold. where Madam Mitigation comes! I
+	have purchased as many diseases under her roof as come to--
+
+Second Gentleman	To what, I pray?
+
+LUCIO	Judge.
+
+Second Gentleman	To three thousand dolours a year.
+
+First Gentleman	Ay, and more.
+
+LUCIO	A French crown more.
+
+First Gentleman	Thou art always figuring diseases in me; but thou
+	art full of error; I am sound.
+
+LUCIO	Nay, not as one would say, healthy; but so sound as
+	things that are hollow: thy bones are hollow;
+	impiety has made a feast of thee.
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS OVERDONE]
+
+First Gentleman	How now! which of your hips has the most profound sciatica?
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	Well, well; there's one yonder arrested and carried
+	to prison was worth five thousand of you all.
+
+Second Gentleman	Who's that, I pray thee?
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	Marry, sir, that's Claudio, Signior Claudio.
+
+First Gentleman	Claudio to prison? 'tis not so.
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	Nay, but I know 'tis so: I saw him arrested, saw
+	him carried away; and, which is more, within these
+	three days his head to be chopped off.
+
+LUCIO	But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so.
+	Art thou sure of this?
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	I am too sure of it: and it is for getting Madam
+	Julietta with child.
+
+LUCIO	Believe me, this may be: he promised to meet me two
+	hours since, and he was ever precise in
+	promise-keeping.
+
+Second Gentleman	Besides, you know, it draws something near to the
+	speech we had to such a purpose.
+
+First Gentleman	But, most of all, agreeing with the proclamation.
+
+LUCIO	Away! let's go learn the truth of it.
+
+	[Exeunt LUCIO and Gentlemen]
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what
+	with the gallows and what with poverty, I am
+	custom-shrunk.
+
+	[Enter POMPEY]
+
+	How now! what's the news with you?
+
+POMPEY	Yonder man is carried to prison.
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	Well; what has he done?
+
+POMPEY	A woman.
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	But what's his offence?
+
+POMPEY	Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	What, is there a maid with child by him?
+
+POMPEY	No, but there's a woman with maid by him. You have
+	not heard of the proclamation, have you?
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	What proclamation, man?
+
+POMPEY	All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be plucked down.
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	And what shall become of those in the city?
+
+POMPEY	They shall stand for seed: they had gone down too,
+	but that a wise burgher put in for them.
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be
+	pulled down?
+
+POMPEY	To the ground, mistress.
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	Why, here's a change indeed in the commonwealth!
+	What shall become of me?
+
+POMPEY	Come; fear you not: good counsellors lack no
+	clients: though you change your place, you need not
+	change your trade; I'll be your tapster still.
+	Courage! there will be pity taken on you: you that
+	have worn your eyes almost out in the service, you
+	will be considered.
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	What's to do here, Thomas tapster? let's withdraw.
+
+POMPEY	Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the provost to
+	prison; and there's Madam Juliet.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Enter Provost, CLAUDIO, JULIET, and Officers]
+
+CLAUDIO	Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to the world?
+	Bear me to prison, where I am committed.
+
+Provost	I do it not in evil disposition,
+	But from Lord Angelo by special charge.
+
+CLAUDIO	Thus can the demigod Authority
+	Make us pay down for our offence by weight
+	The words of heaven; on whom it will, it will;
+	On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just.
+
+	[Re-enter LUCIO and two Gentlemen]
+
+LUCIO	Why, how now, Claudio! whence comes this restraint?
+
+CLAUDIO	From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty:
+	As surfeit is the father of much fast,
+	So every scope by the immoderate use
+	Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue,
+	Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,
+	A thirsty evil; and when we drink we die.
+
+LUCIO	If could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would
+	send for certain of my creditors: and yet, to say
+	the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of freedom
+	as the morality of imprisonment. What's thy
+	offence, Claudio?
+
+CLAUDIO	What but to speak of would offend again.
+
+LUCIO	What, is't murder?
+
+CLAUDIO	No.
+
+LUCIO	Lechery?
+
+CLAUDIO	Call it so.
+
+Provost	Away, sir! you must go.
+
+CLAUDIO	One word, good friend. Lucio, a word with you.
+
+LUCIO	A hundred, if they'll do you any good.
+	Is lechery so look'd after?
+
+CLAUDIO	Thus stands it with me: upon a true contract
+	I got possession of Julietta's bed:
+	You know the lady; she is fast my wife,
+	Save that we do the denunciation lack
+	Of outward order: this we came not to,
+	Only for propagation of a dower
+	Remaining in the coffer of her friends,
+	From whom we thought it meet to hide our love
+	Till time had made them for us. But it chances
+	The stealth of our most mutual entertainment
+	With character too gross is writ on Juliet.
+
+LUCIO	With child, perhaps?
+
+CLAUDIO	Unhappily, even so.
+	And the new deputy now for the duke--
+	Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness,
+	Or whether that the body public be
+	A horse whereon the governor doth ride,
+	Who, newly in the seat, that it may know
+	He can command, lets it straight feel the spur;
+	Whether the tyranny be in his place,
+	Or in his emmence that fills it up,
+	I stagger in:--but this new governor
+	Awakes me all the enrolled penalties
+	Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by the wall
+	So long that nineteen zodiacs have gone round
+	And none of them been worn; and, for a name,
+	Now puts the drowsy and neglected act
+	Freshly on me: 'tis surely for a name.
+
+LUCIO	I warrant it is: and thy head stands so tickle on
+	thy shoulders that a milkmaid, if she be in love,
+	may sigh it off. Send after the duke and appeal to
+	him.
+
+CLAUDIO	I have done so, but he's not to be found.
+	I prithee, Lucio, do me this kind service:
+	This day my sister should the cloister enter
+	And there receive her approbation:
+	Acquaint her with the danger of my state:
+	Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends
+	To the strict deputy; bid herself assay him:
+	I have great hope in that; for in her youth
+	There is a prone and speechless dialect,
+	Such as move men; beside, she hath prosperous art
+	When she will play with reason and discourse,
+	And well she can persuade.
+
+LUCIO	I pray she may; as well for the encouragement of the
+	like, which else would stand under grievous
+	imposition, as for the enjoying of thy life, who I
+	would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a
+	game of tick-tack. I'll to her.
+
+CLAUDIO	I thank you, good friend Lucio.
+
+LUCIO	Within two hours.
+
+CLAUDIO	                  Come, officer, away!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+SCENE III	A monastery.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE VINCENTIO and FRIAR THOMAS]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	No, holy father; throw away that thought;
+	Believe not that the dribbling dart of love
+	Can pierce a complete bosom. Why I desire thee
+	To give me secret harbour, hath a purpose
+	More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends
+	Of burning youth.
+
+FRIAR THOMAS	                  May your grace speak of it?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	My holy sir, none better knows than you
+	How I have ever loved the life removed
+	And held in idle price to haunt assemblies
+	Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery keeps.
+	I have deliver'd to Lord Angelo,
+	A man of stricture and firm abstinence,
+	My absolute power and place here in Vienna,
+	And he supposes me travell'd to Poland;
+	For so I have strew'd it in the common ear,
+	And so it is received. Now, pious sir,
+	You will demand of me why I do this?
+
+FRIAR THOMAS	Gladly, my lord.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	We have strict statutes and most biting laws.
+	The needful bits and curbs to headstrong weeds,
+	Which for this nineteen years we have let slip;
+	Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave,
+	That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers,
+	Having bound up the threatening twigs of birch,
+	Only to stick it in their children's sight
+	For terror, not to use, in time the rod
+	Becomes more mock'd than fear'd; so our decrees,
+	Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead;
+	And liberty plucks justice by the nose;
+	The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart
+	Goes all decorum.
+
+FRIAR THOMAS	                  It rested in your grace
+	To unloose this tied-up justice when you pleased:
+	And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd
+	Than in Lord Angelo.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I do fear, too dreadful:
+	Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope,
+	'Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them
+	For what I bid them do: for we bid this be done,
+	When evil deeds have their permissive pass
+	And not the punishment. Therefore indeed, my father,
+	I have on Angelo imposed the office;
+	Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home,
+	And yet my nature never in the fight
+	To do in slander. And to behold his sway,
+	I will, as 'twere a brother of your order,
+	Visit both prince and people: therefore, I prithee,
+	Supply me with the habit and instruct me
+	How I may formally in person bear me
+	Like a true friar. More reasons for this action
+	At our more leisure shall I render you;
+	Only, this one: Lord Angelo is precise;
+	Stands at a guard with envy; scarce confesses
+	That his blood flows, or that his appetite
+	Is more to bread than stone: hence shall we see,
+	If power change purpose, what our seemers be.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+SCENE IV	A nunnery.
+
+
+	[Enter ISABELLA and FRANCISCA]
+
+ISABELLA	And have you nuns no farther privileges?
+
+FRANCISCA	Are not these large enough?
+
+ISABELLA	Yes, truly; I speak not as desiring more;
+	But rather wishing a more strict restraint
+	Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.
+
+LUCIO	[Within]  Ho! Peace be in this place!
+
+ISABELLA	Who's that which calls?
+
+FRANCISCA	It is a man's voice. Gentle Isabella,
+	Turn you the key, and know his business of him;
+	You may, I may not; you are yet unsworn.
+	When you have vow'd, you must not speak with men
+	But in the presence of the prioress:
+	Then, if you speak, you must not show your face,
+	Or, if you show your face, you must not speak.
+	He calls again; I pray you, answer him.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ISABELLA	Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls
+
+	[Enter LUCIO]
+
+LUCIO	Hail, virgin, if you be, as those cheek-roses
+	Proclaim you are no less! Can you so stead me
+	As bring me to the sight of Isabella,
+	A novice of this place and the fair sister
+	To her unhappy brother Claudio?
+
+ISABELLA	Why 'her unhappy brother'? let me ask,
+	The rather for I now must make you know
+	I am that Isabella and his sister.
+
+LUCIO	Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you:
+	Not to be weary with you, he's in prison.
+
+ISABELLA	Woe me! for what?
+
+LUCIO	For that which, if myself might be his judge,
+	He should receive his punishment in thanks:
+	He hath got his friend with child.
+
+ISABELLA	Sir, make me not your story.
+
+LUCIO	It is true.
+	I would not--though 'tis my familiar sin
+	With maids to seem the lapwing and to jest,
+	Tongue far from heart--play with all virgins so:
+	I hold you as a thing ensky'd and sainted.
+	By your renouncement an immortal spirit,
+	And to be talk'd with in sincerity,
+	As with a saint.
+
+ISABELLA	You do blaspheme the good in mocking me.
+
+LUCIO	Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis thus:
+	Your brother and his lover have embraced:
+	As those that feed grow full, as blossoming time
+	That from the seedness the bare fallow brings
+	To teeming foison, even so her plenteous womb
+	Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry.
+
+ISABELLA	Some one with child by him? My cousin Juliet?
+
+LUCIO	Is she your cousin?
+
+ISABELLA	Adoptedly; as school-maids change their names
+	By vain though apt affection.
+
+LUCIO	She it is.
+
+ISABELLA	O, let him marry her.
+
+LUCIO	This is the point.
+	The duke is very strangely gone from hence;
+	Bore many gentlemen, myself being one,
+	In hand and hope of action: but we do learn
+	By those that know the very nerves of state,
+	His givings-out were of an infinite distance
+	From his true-meant design. Upon his place,
+	And with full line of his authority,
+	Governs Lord Angelo; a man whose blood
+	Is very snow-broth; one who never feels
+	The wanton stings and motions of the sense,
+	But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge
+	With profits of the mind, study and fast.
+	He--to give fear to use and liberty,
+	Which have for long run by the hideous law,
+	As mice by lions--hath pick'd out an act,
+	Under whose heavy sense your brother's life
+	Falls into forfeit: he arrests him on it;
+	And follows close the rigour of the statute,
+	To make him an example. All hope is gone,
+	Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer
+	To soften Angelo: and that's my pith of business
+	'Twixt you and your poor brother.
+
+ISABELLA	Doth he so seek his life?
+
+LUCIO	Has censured him
+	Already; and, as I hear, the provost hath
+	A warrant for his execution.
+
+ISABELLA	Alas! what poor ability's in me
+	To do him good?
+
+LUCIO	                  Assay the power you have.
+
+ISABELLA	My power? Alas, I doubt--
+
+LUCIO	Our doubts are traitors
+	And make us lose the good we oft might win
+	By fearing to attempt. Go to Lord Angelo,
+	And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,
+	Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,
+	All their petitions are as freely theirs
+	As they themselves would owe them.
+
+ISABELLA	I'll see what I can do.
+
+LUCIO	But speedily.
+
+ISABELLA	I will about it straight;
+	No longer staying but to give the mother
+	Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you:
+	Commend me to my brother: soon at night
+	I'll send him certain word of my success.
+
+LUCIO	I take my leave of you.
+
+ISABELLA	Good sir, adieu.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+SCENE I	A hall In ANGELO's house.
+
+
+	[Enter ANGELO, ESCALUS, and a Justice, Provost,
+	Officers, and other Attendants, behind]
+
+ANGELO	We must not make a scarecrow of the law,
+	Setting it up to fear the birds of prey,
+	And let it keep one shape, till custom make it
+	Their perch and not their terror.
+
+ESCALUS	Ay, but yet
+	Let us be keen, and rather cut a little,
+	Than fall, and bruise to death. Alas, this gentleman
+	Whom I would save, had a most noble father!
+	Let but your honour know,
+	Whom I believe to be most strait in virtue,
+	That, in the working of your own affections,
+	Had time cohered with place or place with wishing,
+	Or that the resolute acting of your blood
+	Could have attain'd the effect of your own purpose,
+	Whether you had not sometime in your life
+	Err'd in this point which now you censure him,
+	And pull'd the law upon you.
+
+ANGELO	'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus,
+	Another thing to fall. I not deny,
+	The jury, passing on the prisoner's life,
+	May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two
+	Guiltier than him they try. What's open made to justice,
+	That justice seizes: what know the laws
+	That thieves do pass on thieves? 'Tis very pregnant,
+	The jewel that we find, we stoop and take't
+	Because we see it; but what we do not see
+	We tread upon, and never think of it.
+	You may not so extenuate his offence
+	For I have had such faults; but rather tell me,
+	When I, that censure him, do so offend,
+	Let mine own judgment pattern out my death,
+	And nothing come in partial. Sir, he must die.
+
+ESCALUS	Be it as your wisdom will.
+
+ANGELO	Where is the provost?
+
+Provost	Here, if it like your honour.
+
+ANGELO	See that Claudio
+	Be executed by nine to-morrow morning:
+	Bring him his confessor, let him be prepared;
+	For that's the utmost of his pilgrimage.
+
+	[Exit Provost]
+
+ESCALUS	[Aside]  Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all!
+	Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall:
+	Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none:
+	And some condemned for a fault alone.
+
+	[Enter ELBOW, and Officers with FROTH and POMPEY]
+
+ELBOW	Come, bring them away: if these be good people in
+	a commonweal that do nothing but use their abuses in
+	common houses, I know no law: bring them away.
+
+ANGELO	How now, sir! What's your name? and what's the matter?
+
+ELBOW	If it Please your honour, I am the poor duke's
+	constable, and my name is Elbow: I do lean upon
+	justice, sir, and do bring in here before your good
+	honour two notorious benefactors.
+
+ANGELO	Benefactors? Well; what benefactors are they? are
+	they not malefactors?
+
+ELBOW	If it? please your honour, I know not well what they
+	are: but precise villains they are, that I am sure
+	of; and void of all profanation in the world that
+	good Christians ought to have.
+
+ESCALUS	This comes off well; here's a wise officer.
+
+ANGELO	Go to: what quality are they of? Elbow is your
+	name? why dost thou not speak, Elbow?
+
+POMPEY	He cannot, sir; he's out at elbow.
+
+ANGELO	What are you, sir?
+
+ELBOW	He, sir! a tapster, sir; parcel-bawd; one that
+	serves a bad woman; whose house, sir, was, as they
+	say, plucked down in the suburbs; and now she
+	professes a hot-house, which, I think, is a very ill house too.
+
+ESCALUS	How know you that?
+
+ELBOW	My wife, sir, whom I detest before heaven and your honour,--
+
+ESCALUS	How? thy wife?
+
+ELBOW	Ay, sir; whom, I thank heaven, is an honest woman,--
+
+ESCALUS	Dost thou detest her therefore?
+
+ELBOW	I say, sir, I will detest myself also, as well as
+	she, that this house, if it be not a bawd's house,
+	it is pity of her life, for it is a naughty house.
+
+ESCALUS	How dost thou know that, constable?
+
+ELBOW	Marry, sir, by my wife; who, if she had been a woman
+	cardinally given, might have been accused in
+	fornication, adultery, and all uncleanliness there.
+
+ESCALUS	By the woman's means?
+
+ELBOW	Ay, sir, by Mistress Overdone's means: but as she
+	spit in his face, so she defied him.
+
+POMPEY	Sir, if it please your honour, this is not so.
+
+ELBOW	Prove it before these varlets here, thou honourable
+	man; prove it.
+
+ESCALUS	Do you hear how he misplaces?
+
+POMPEY	Sir, she came in great with child; and longing,
+	saving your honour's reverence, for stewed prunes;
+	sir, we had but two in the house, which at that very
+	distant time stood, as it were, in a fruit-dish, a
+	dish of some three-pence; your honours have seen
+	such dishes; they are not China dishes, but very
+	good dishes,--
+
+ESCALUS	Go to, go to: no matter for the dish, sir.
+
+POMPEY	No, indeed, sir, not of a pin; you are therein in
+	the right: but to the point. As I say, this
+	Mistress Elbow, being, as I say, with child, and
+	being great-bellied, and longing, as I said, for
+	prunes; and having but two in the dish, as I said,
+	Master Froth here, this very man, having eaten the
+	rest, as I said, and, as I say, paying for them very
+	honestly; for, as you know, Master Froth, I could
+	not give you three-pence again.
+
+FROTH	No, indeed.
+
+POMPEY	Very well: you being then, if you be remembered,
+	cracking the stones of the foresaid prunes,--
+
+FROTH	Ay, so I did indeed.
+
+POMPEY	Why, very well; I telling you then, if you be
+	remembered, that such a one and such a one were past
+	cure of the thing you wot of, unless they kept very
+	good diet, as I told you,--
+
+FROTH	All this is true.
+
+POMPEY	Why, very well, then,--
+
+ESCALUS	Come, you are a tedious fool: to the purpose. What
+	was done to Elbow's wife, that he hath cause to
+	complain of? Come me to what was done to her.
+
+POMPEY	Sir, your honour cannot come to that yet.
+
+ESCALUS	No, sir, nor I mean it not.
+
+POMPEY	Sir, but you shall come to it, by your honour's
+	leave. And, I beseech you, look into Master Froth
+	here, sir; a man of four-score pound a year; whose
+	father died at Hallowmas: was't not at Hallowmas,
+	Master Froth?
+
+FROTH	All-hallond eve.
+
+POMPEY	Why, very well; I hope here be truths. He, sir,
+	sitting, as I say, in a lower chair, sir; 'twas in
+	the Bunch of Grapes, where indeed you have a delight
+	to sit, have you not?
+
+FROTH	I have so; because it is an open room and good for winter.
+
+POMPEY	Why, very well, then; I hope here be truths.
+
+ANGELO	This will last out a night in Russia,
+	When nights are longest there: I'll take my leave.
+	And leave you to the hearing of the cause;
+	Hoping you'll find good cause to whip them all.
+
+ESCALUS	I think no less. Good morrow to your lordship.
+
+	[Exit ANGELO]
+
+	Now, sir, come on: what was done to Elbow's wife, once more?
+
+POMPEY	Once, sir? there was nothing done to her once.
+
+ELBOW	I beseech you, sir, ask him what this man did to my wife.
+
+POMPEY	I beseech your honour, ask me.
+
+ESCALUS	Well, sir; what did this gentleman to her?
+
+POMPEY	I beseech you, sir, look in this gentleman's face.
+	Good Master Froth, look upon his honour; 'tis for a
+	good purpose. Doth your honour mark his face?
+
+ESCALUS	Ay, sir, very well.
+
+POMPEY	Nay; I beseech you, mark it well.
+
+ESCALUS	Well, I do so.
+
+POMPEY	Doth your honour see any harm in his face?
+
+ESCALUS	Why, no.
+
+POMPEY	I'll be supposed upon a book, his face is the worst
+	thing about him. Good, then; if his face be the
+	worst thing about him, how could Master Froth do the
+	constable's wife any harm? I would know that of
+	your honour.
+
+ESCALUS	He's in the right. Constable, what say you to it?
+
+ELBOW	First, an it like you, the house is a respected
+	house; next, this is a respected fellow; and his
+	mistress is a respected woman.
+
+POMPEY	By this hand, sir, his wife is a more respected
+	person than any of us all.
+
+ELBOW	Varlet, thou liest; thou liest, wicked varlet! the
+	time has yet to come that she was ever respected
+	with man, woman, or child.
+
+POMPEY	Sir, she was respected with him before he married with her.
+
+ESCALUS	Which is the wiser here? Justice or Iniquity? Is
+	this true?
+
+ELBOW	O thou caitiff! O thou varlet! O thou wicked
+	Hannibal! I respected with her before I was married
+	to her! If ever I was respected with her, or she
+	with me, let not your worship think me the poor
+	duke's officer. Prove this, thou wicked Hannibal, or
+	I'll have mine action of battery on thee.
+
+ESCALUS	If he took you a box o' the ear, you might have your
+	action of slander too.
+
+ELBOW	Marry, I thank your good worship for it. What is't
+	your worship's pleasure I shall do with this wicked caitiff?
+
+ESCALUS	Truly, officer, because he hath some offences in him
+	that thou wouldst discover if thou couldst, let him
+	continue in his courses till thou knowest what they
+	are.
+
+ELBOW	Marry, I thank your worship for it. Thou seest, thou
+	wicked varlet, now, what's come upon thee: thou art
+	to continue now, thou varlet; thou art to continue.
+
+ESCALUS	Where were you born, friend?
+
+FROTH	Here in Vienna, sir.
+
+ESCALUS	Are you of fourscore pounds a year?
+
+FROTH	Yes, an't please you, sir.
+
+ESCALUS	So. What trade are you of, sir?
+
+POMPHEY	Tapster; a poor widow's tapster.
+
+ESCALUS	Your mistress' name?
+
+POMPHEY	Mistress Overdone.
+
+ESCALUS	Hath she had any more than one husband?
+
+POMPEY	Nine, sir; Overdone by the last.
+
+ESCALUS	Nine! Come hither to me, Master Froth. Master
+	Froth, I would not have you acquainted with
+	tapsters: they will draw you, Master Froth, and you
+	will hang them. Get you gone, and let me hear no
+	more of you.
+
+FROTH	I thank your worship. For mine own part, I never
+	come into any room in a tap-house, but I am drawn
+	in.
+
+ESCALUS	Well, no more of it, Master Froth: farewell.
+
+	[Exit FROTH]
+
+	Come you hither to me, Master tapster. What's your
+	name, Master tapster?
+
+POMPEY	Pompey.
+
+ESCALUS	What else?
+
+POMPEY	Bum, sir.
+
+ESCALUS	Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you;
+	so that in the beastliest sense you are Pompey the
+	Great. Pompey, you are partly a bawd, Pompey,
+	howsoever you colour it in being a tapster, are you
+	not? come, tell me true: it shall be the better for you.
+
+POMPEY	Truly, sir, I am a poor fellow that would live.
+
+ESCALUS	How would you live, Pompey? by being a bawd? What
+	do you think of the trade, Pompey? is it a lawful trade?
+
+POMPEY	If the law would allow it, sir.
+
+ESCALUS	But the law will not allow it, Pompey; nor it shall
+	not be allowed in Vienna.
+
+POMPEY	Does your worship mean to geld and splay all the
+	youth of the city?
+
+ESCALUS	No, Pompey.
+
+POMPEY	Truly, sir, in my poor opinion, they will to't then.
+	If your worship will take order for the drabs and
+	the knaves, you need not to fear the bawds.
+
+ESCALUS	There are pretty orders beginning, I can tell you:
+	it is but heading and hanging.
+
+POMPEY	If you head and hang all that offend that way but
+	for ten year together, you'll be glad to give out a
+	commission for more heads: if this law hold in
+	Vienna ten year, I'll rent the fairest house in it
+	after three-pence a bay: if you live to see this
+	come to pass, say Pompey told you so.
+
+ESCALUS	Thank you, good Pompey; and, in requital of your
+	prophecy, hark you: I advise you, let me not find
+	you before me again upon any complaint whatsoever;
+	no, not for dwelling where you do: if I do, Pompey,
+	I shall beat you to your tent, and prove a shrewd
+	Caesar to you; in plain dealing, Pompey, I shall
+	have you whipt: so, for this time, Pompey, fare you well.
+
+POMPEY	I thank your worship for your good counsel:
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	but I shall follow it as the flesh and fortune shall
+	better determine.
+	Whip me? No, no; let carman whip his jade:
+	The valiant heart is not whipt out of his trade.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ESCALUS	Come hither to me, Master Elbow; come hither, Master
+	constable. How long have you been in this place of constable?
+
+ELBOW	Seven year and a half, sir.
+
+ESCALUS	I thought, by your readiness in the office, you had
+	continued in it some time. You say, seven years together?
+
+ELBOW	And a half, sir.
+
+ESCALUS	Alas, it hath been great pains to you. They do you
+	wrong to put you so oft upon 't: are there not men
+	in your ward sufficient to serve it?
+
+ELBOW	Faith, sir, few of any wit in such matters: as they
+	are chosen, they are glad to choose me for them; I
+	do it for some piece of money, and go through with
+	all.
+
+ESCALUS	Look you bring me in the names of some six or seven,
+	the most sufficient of your parish.
+
+ELBOW	To your worship's house, sir?
+
+ESCALUS	To my house. Fare you well.
+
+	[Exit ELBOW]
+
+	What's o'clock, think you?
+
+Justice	Eleven, sir.
+
+ESCALUS	I pray you home to dinner with me.
+
+Justice	I humbly thank you.
+
+ESCALUS	It grieves me for the death of Claudio;
+	But there's no remedy.
+
+Justice	Lord Angelo is severe.
+
+ESCALUS	It is but needful:
+	Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so;
+	Pardon is still the nurse of second woe:
+	But yet,--poor Claudio! There is no remedy.
+	Come, sir.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+SCENE II	Another room in the same.
+
+
+	[Enter Provost and a Servant]
+
+Servant	He's hearing of a cause; he will come straight
+	I'll tell him of you.
+
+Provost	Pray you, do.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+		                  I'll know
+	His pleasure; may be he will relent. Alas,
+	He hath but as offended in a dream!
+	All sects, all ages smack of this vice; and he
+	To die for't!
+
+	[Enter ANGELO]
+
+ANGELO	                  Now, what's the matter. Provost?
+
+Provost	Is it your will Claudio shall die tomorrow?
+
+ANGELO	Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order?
+	Why dost thou ask again?
+
+Provost	Lest I might be too rash:
+	Under your good correction, I have seen,
+	When, after execution, judgment hath
+	Repented o'er his doom.
+
+ANGELO	Go to; let that be mine:
+	Do you your office, or give up your place,
+	And you shall well be spared.
+
+Provost	I crave your honour's pardon.
+	What shall be done, sir, with the groaning Juliet?
+	She's very near her hour.
+
+ANGELO	Dispose of her
+	To some more fitter place, and that with speed.
+
+	[Re-enter Servant]
+
+Servant	Here is the sister of the man condemn'd
+	Desires access to you.
+
+ANGELO	Hath he a sister?
+
+Provost	Ay, my good lord; a very virtuous maid,
+	And to be shortly of a sisterhood,
+	If not already.
+
+ANGELO	                  Well, let her be admitted.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+	See you the fornicatress be removed:
+	Let have needful, but not lavish, means;
+	There shall be order for't.
+
+	[Enter ISABELLA and LUCIO]
+
+Provost	God save your honour!
+
+ANGELO	Stay a little while.
+
+	[To ISABELLA]
+
+		You're welcome: what's your will?
+
+ISABELLA	I am a woeful suitor to your honour,
+	Please but your honour hear me.
+
+ANGELO	Well; what's your suit?
+
+ISABELLA	There is a vice that most I do abhor,
+	And most desire should meet the blow of justice;
+	For which I would not plead, but that I must;
+	For which I must not plead, but that I am
+	At war 'twixt will and will not.
+
+ANGELO	Well; the matter?
+
+ISABELLA	I have a brother is condemn'd to die:
+	I do beseech you, let it be his fault,
+	And not my brother.
+
+Provost	[Aside]  Heaven give thee moving graces!
+
+ANGELO	Condemn the fault and not the actor of it?
+	Why, every fault's condemn'd ere it be done:
+	Mine were the very cipher of a function,
+	To fine the faults whose fine stands in record,
+	And let go by the actor.
+
+ISABELLA	O just but severe law!
+	I had a brother, then. Heaven keep your honour!
+
+LUCIO	[Aside to ISABELLA]  Give't not o'er so: to him
+	again, entreat him;
+	Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown:
+	You are too cold; if you should need a pin,
+	You could not with more tame a tongue desire it:
+	To him, I say!
+
+ISABELLA	Must he needs die?
+
+ANGELO	                  Maiden, no remedy.
+
+ISABELLA	Yes; I do think that you might pardon him,
+	And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy.
+
+ANGELO	I will not do't.
+
+ISABELLA	                  But can you, if you would?
+
+ANGELO	Look, what I will not, that I cannot do.
+
+ISABELLA	But might you do't, and do the world no wrong,
+	If so your heart were touch'd with that remorse
+	As mine is to him?
+
+ANGELO	                  He's sentenced; 'tis too late.
+
+LUCIO	[Aside to ISABELLA]  You are too cold.
+
+ISABELLA	Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word.
+	May call it back again. Well, believe this,
+	No ceremony that to great ones 'longs,
+	Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,
+	The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
+	Become them with one half so good a grace
+	As mercy does.
+	If he had been as you and you as he,
+	You would have slipt like him; but he, like you,
+	Would not have been so stern.
+
+ANGELO	Pray you, be gone.
+
+ISABELLA	I would to heaven I had your potency,
+	And you were Isabel! should it then be thus?
+	No; I would tell what 'twere to be a judge,
+	And what a prisoner.
+
+LUCIO	[Aside to ISABELLA]
+
+		Ay, touch him; there's the vein.
+
+ANGELO	Your brother is a forfeit of the law,
+	And you but waste your words.
+
+ISABELLA	Alas, alas!
+	Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once;
+	And He that might the vantage best have took
+	Found out the remedy. How would you be,
+	If He, which is the top of judgment, should
+	But judge you as you are? O, think on that;
+	And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
+	Like man new made.
+
+ANGELO	                  Be you content, fair maid;
+	It is the law, not I condemn your brother:
+	Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son,
+	It should be thus with him: he must die tomorrow.
+
+ISABELLA	To-morrow! O, that's sudden! Spare him, spare him!
+	He's not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens
+	We kill the fowl of season: shall we serve heaven
+	With less respect than we do minister
+	To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink you;
+	Who is it that hath died for this offence?
+	There's many have committed it.
+
+LUCIO	[Aside to ISABELLA]           Ay, well said.
+
+ANGELO	The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept:
+	Those many had not dared to do that evil,
+	If the first that did the edict infringe
+	Had answer'd for his deed: now 'tis awake
+	Takes note of what is done; and, like a prophet,
+	Looks in a glass, that shows what future evils,
+	Either new, or by remissness new-conceived,
+	And so in progress to be hatch'd and born,
+	Are now to have no successive degrees,
+	But, ere they live, to end.
+
+ISABELLA	Yet show some pity.
+
+ANGELO	I show it most of all when I show justice;
+	For then I pity those I do not know,
+	Which a dismiss'd offence would after gall;
+	And do him right that, answering one foul wrong,
+	Lives not to act another. Be satisfied;
+	Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.
+
+ISABELLA	So you must be the first that gives this sentence,
+	And he, that suffer's. O, it is excellent
+	To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous
+	To use it like a giant.
+
+LUCIO	[Aside to ISABELLA]   That's well said.
+
+ISABELLA	Could great men thunder
+	As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet,
+	For every pelting, petty officer
+	Would use his heaven for thunder;
+	Nothing but thunder! Merciful Heaven,
+	Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
+	Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak
+	Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man,
+	Drest in a little brief authority,
+	Most ignorant of what he's most assured,
+	His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
+	Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
+	As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
+	Would all themselves laugh mortal.
+
+LUCIO	[Aside to ISABELLA]  O, to him, to him, wench! he
+	will relent;
+	He's coming; I perceive 't.
+
+Provost	[Aside]  Pray heaven she win him!
+
+ISABELLA	We cannot weigh our brother with ourself:
+	Great men may jest with saints; 'tis wit in them,
+	But in the less foul profanation.
+
+LUCIO	Thou'rt i' the right, girl; more o, that.
+
+ISABELLA	That in the captain's but a choleric word,
+	Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
+
+LUCIO	[Aside to ISABELLA]  Art avised o' that? more on 't.
+
+ANGELO	Why do you put these sayings upon me?
+
+ISABELLA	Because authority, though it err like others,
+	Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself,
+	That skins the vice o' the top. Go to your bosom;
+	Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know
+	That's like my brother's fault: if it confess
+	A natural guiltiness such as is his,
+	Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue
+	Against my brother's life.
+
+ANGELO	[Aside]                  She speaks, and 'tis
+	Such sense, that my sense breeds with it. Fare you well.
+
+ISABELLA	Gentle my lord, turn back.
+
+ANGELO	I will bethink me: come again tomorrow.
+
+ISABELLA	Hark how I'll bribe you: good my lord, turn back.
+
+ANGELO	How! bribe me?
+
+ISABELLA	Ay, with such gifts that heaven shall share with you.
+
+LUCIO	[Aside to ISABELLA]  You had marr'd all else.
+
+ISABELLA	Not with fond shekels of the tested gold,
+	Or stones whose rates are either rich or poor
+	As fancy values them; but with true prayers
+	That shall be up at heaven and enter there
+	Ere sun-rise, prayers from preserved souls,
+	From fasting maids whose minds are dedicate
+	To nothing temporal.
+
+ANGELO	Well; come to me to-morrow.
+
+LUCIO	[Aside to ISABELLA]  Go to; 'tis well; away!
+
+ISABELLA	Heaven keep your honour safe!
+
+ANGELO	[Aside]	Amen:
+	For I am that way going to temptation,
+	Where prayers cross.
+
+ISABELLA	At what hour to-morrow
+	Shall I attend your lordship?
+
+ANGELO	At any time 'fore noon.
+
+ISABELLA	'Save your honour!
+
+	[Exeunt ISABELLA, LUCIO, and Provost]
+
+ANGELO	                  From thee, even from thy virtue!
+	What's this, what's this? Is this her fault or mine?
+	The tempter or the tempted, who sins most?
+	Ha!
+	Not she: nor doth she tempt: but it is I
+	That, lying by the violet in the sun,
+	Do as the carrion does, not as the flower,
+	Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be
+	That modesty may more betray our sense
+	Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough,
+	Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary
+	And pitch our evils there? O, fie, fie, fie!
+	What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo?
+	Dost thou desire her foully for those things
+	That make her good? O, let her brother live!
+	Thieves for their robbery have authority
+	When judges steal themselves. What, do I love her,
+	That I desire to hear her speak again,
+	And feast upon her eyes? What is't I dream on?
+	O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint,
+	With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous
+	Is that temptation that doth goad us on
+	To sin in loving virtue: never could the strumpet,
+	With all her double vigour, art and nature,
+	Once stir my temper; but this virtuous maid
+	Subdues me quite. Even till now,
+	When men were fond, I smiled and wonder'd how.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in a prison.
+
+
+	[Enter, severally, DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as a
+	friar, and Provost]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Hail to you, provost! so I think you are.
+
+Provost	I am the provost. What's your will, good friar?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Bound by my charity and my blest order,
+	I come to visit the afflicted spirits
+	Here in the prison. Do me the common right
+	To let me see them and to make me know
+	The nature of their crimes, that I may minister
+	To them accordingly.
+
+Provost	I would do more than that, if more were needful.
+
+	[Enter JULIET]
+
+	Look, here comes one: a gentlewoman of mine,
+	Who, falling in the flaws of her own youth,
+	Hath blister'd her report: she is with child;
+	And he that got it, sentenced; a young man
+	More fit to do another such offence
+	Than die for this.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	When must he die?
+
+Provost	                  As I do think, to-morrow.
+	I have provided for you: stay awhile,
+
+	[To JULIET]
+
+	And you shall be conducted.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry?
+
+JULIET	I do; and bear the shame most patiently.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I'll teach you how you shall arraign your conscience,
+	And try your penitence, if it be sound,
+	Or hollowly put on.
+
+JULIET	I'll gladly learn.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Love you the man that wrong'd you?
+
+JULIET	Yes, as I love the woman that wrong'd him.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	So then it seems your most offenceful act
+	Was mutually committed?
+
+JULIET	Mutually.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Then was your sin of heavier kind than his.
+
+JULIET	I do confess it, and repent it, father.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	'Tis meet so, daughter: but lest you do repent,
+	As that the sin hath brought you to this shame,
+	Which sorrow is always towards ourselves, not heaven,
+	Showing we would not spare heaven as we love it,
+	But as we stand in fear,--
+
+JULIET	I do repent me, as it is an evil,
+	And take the shame with joy.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	There rest.
+	Your partner, as I hear, must die to-morrow,
+	And I am going with instruction to him.
+	Grace go with you, Benedicite!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+JULIET	Must die to-morrow! O injurious love,
+	That respites me a life, whose very comfort
+	Is still a dying horror!
+
+Provost	'Tis pity of him.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+SCENE IV	A room in ANGELO's house.
+
+
+	[Enter ANGELO]
+
+ANGELO	When I would pray and think, I think and pray
+	To several subjects. Heaven hath my empty words;
+	Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue,
+	Anchors on Isabel: Heaven in my mouth,
+	As if I did but only chew his name;
+	And in my heart the strong and swelling evil
+	Of my conception. The state, whereon I studied
+	Is like a good thing, being often read,
+	Grown fear'd and tedious; yea, my gravity,
+	Wherein--let no man hear me--I take pride,
+	Could I with boot change for an idle plume,
+	Which the air beats for vain. O place, O form,
+	How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit,
+	Wrench awe from fools and tie the wiser souls
+	To thy false seeming! Blood, thou art blood:
+	Let's write good angel on the devil's horn:
+	'Tis not the devil's crest.
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+		      How now! who's there?
+
+Servant	One Isabel, a sister, desires access to you.
+
+ANGELO	Teach her the way.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+	O heavens!
+	Why does my blood thus muster to my heart,
+	Making both it unable for itself,
+	And dispossessing all my other parts
+	Of necessary fitness?
+	So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons;
+	Come all to help him, and so stop the air
+	By which he should revive: and even so
+	The general, subject to a well-wish'd king,
+	Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness
+	Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love
+	Must needs appear offence.
+
+	[Enter ISABELLA]
+
+		     How now, fair maid?
+
+ISABELLA	I am come to know your pleasure.
+
+ANGELO	That you might know it, would much better please me
+	Than to demand what 'tis. Your brother cannot live.
+
+ISABELLA	Even so. Heaven keep your honour!
+
+ANGELO	Yet may he live awhile; and, it may be,
+	As long as you or I	yet he must die.
+
+ISABELLA	Under your sentence?
+
+ANGELO	Yea.
+
+ISABELLA	When, I beseech you? that in his reprieve,
+	Longer or shorter, he may be so fitted
+	That his soul sicken not.
+
+ANGELO	Ha! fie, these filthy vices! It were as good
+	To pardon him that hath from nature stolen
+	A man already made, as to remit
+	Their saucy sweetness that do coin heaven's image
+	In stamps that are forbid: 'tis all as easy
+	Falsely to take away a life true made
+	As to put metal in restrained means
+	To make a false one.
+
+ISABELLA	'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth.
+
+ANGELO	Say you so? then I shall pose you quickly.
+	Which had you rather, that the most just law
+	Now took your brother's life; or, to redeem him,
+	Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness
+	As she that he hath stain'd?
+
+ISABELLA	Sir, believe this,
+	I had rather give my body than my soul.
+
+ANGELO	I talk not of your soul: our compell'd sins
+	Stand more for number than for accompt.
+
+ISABELLA	How say you?
+
+ANGELO	Nay, I'll not warrant that; for I can speak
+	Against the thing I say. Answer to this:
+	I, now the voice of the recorded law,
+	Pronounce a sentence on your brother's life:
+	Might there not be a charity in sin
+	To save this brother's life?
+
+ISABELLA	Please you to do't,
+	I'll take it as a peril to my soul,
+	It is no sin at all, but charity.
+
+ANGELO	Pleased you to do't at peril of your soul,
+	Were equal poise of sin and charity.
+
+ISABELLA	That I do beg his life, if it be sin,
+	Heaven let me bear it! you granting of my suit,
+	If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer
+	To have it added to the faults of mine,
+	And nothing of your answer.
+
+ANGELO	Nay, but hear me.
+	Your sense pursues not mine: either you are ignorant,
+	Or seem so craftily; and that's not good.
+
+ISABELLA	Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good,
+	But graciously to know I am no better.
+
+ANGELO	Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright
+	When it doth tax itself; as these black masks
+	Proclaim an enshield beauty ten times louder
+	Than beauty could, display'd. But mark me;
+	To be received plain, I'll speak more gross:
+	Your brother is to die.
+
+ISABELLA	So.
+
+ANGELO	And his offence is so, as it appears,
+	Accountant to the law upon that pain.
+
+ISABELLA	True.
+
+ANGELO	Admit no other way to save his life,--
+	As I subscribe not that, nor any other,
+	But in the loss of question,--that you, his sister,
+	Finding yourself desired of such a person,
+	Whose credit with the judge, or own great place,
+	Could fetch your brother from the manacles
+	Of the all-building law; and that there were
+	No earthly mean to save him, but that either
+	You must lay down the treasures of your body
+	To this supposed, or else to let him suffer;
+	What would you do?
+
+ISABELLA	As much for my poor brother as myself:
+	That is, were I under the terms of death,
+	The impression of keen whips I'ld wear as rubies,
+	And strip myself to death, as to a bed
+	That longing have been sick for, ere I'ld yield
+	My body up to shame.
+
+ANGELO	Then must your brother die.
+
+ISABELLA	And 'twere the cheaper way:
+	Better it were a brother died at once,
+	Than that a sister, by redeeming him,
+	Should die for ever.
+
+ANGELO	Were not you then as cruel as the sentence
+	That you have slander'd so?
+
+ISABELLA	Ignomy in ransom and free pardon
+	Are of two houses: lawful mercy
+	Is nothing kin to foul redemption.
+
+ANGELO	You seem'd of late to make the law a tyrant;
+	And rather proved the sliding of your brother
+	A merriment than a vice.
+
+ISABELLA	O, pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out,
+	To have what we would have, we speak not what we mean:
+	I something do excuse the thing I hate,
+	For his advantage that I dearly love.
+
+ANGELO	We are all frail.
+
+ISABELLA	                  Else let my brother die,
+	If not a feodary, but only he
+	Owe and succeed thy weakness.
+
+ANGELO	Nay, women are frail too.
+
+ISABELLA	Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves;
+	Which are as easy broke as they make forms.
+	Women! Help Heaven! men their creation mar
+	In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail;
+	For we are soft as our complexions are,
+	And credulous to false prints.
+
+ANGELO	I think it well:
+	And from this testimony of your own sex,--
+	Since I suppose we are made to be no stronger
+	Than faults may shake our frames,--let me be bold;
+	I do arrest your words. Be that you are,
+	That is, a woman; if you be more, you're none;
+	If you be one, as you are well express'd
+	By all external warrants, show it now,
+	By putting on the destined livery.
+
+ISABELLA	I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord,
+	Let me entreat you speak the former language.
+
+ANGELO	Plainly conceive, I love you.
+
+ISABELLA	My brother did love Juliet,
+	And you tell me that he shall die for it.
+
+ANGELO	He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love.
+
+ISABELLA	I know your virtue hath a licence in't,
+	Which seems a little fouler than it is,
+	To pluck on others.
+
+ANGELO	Believe me, on mine honour,
+	My words express my purpose.
+
+ISABELLA	Ha! little honour to be much believed,
+	And most pernicious purpose! Seeming, seeming!
+	I will proclaim thee, Angelo; look for't:
+	Sign me a present pardon for my brother,
+	Or with an outstretch'd throat I'll tell the world aloud
+	What man thou art.
+
+ANGELO	                  Who will believe thee, Isabel?
+	My unsoil'd name, the austereness of my life,
+	My vouch against you, and my place i' the state,
+	Will so your accusation overweigh,
+	That you shall stifle in your own report
+	And smell of calumny. I have begun,
+	And now I give my sensual race the rein:
+	Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite;
+	Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes,
+	That banish what they sue for; redeem thy brother
+	By yielding up thy body to my will;
+	Or else he must not only die the death,
+	But thy unkindness shall his death draw out
+	To lingering sufferance. Answer me to-morrow,
+	Or, by the affection that now guides me most,
+	I'll prove a tyrant to him. As for you,
+	Say what you can, my false o'erweighs your true.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ISABELLA	To whom should I complain? Did I tell this,
+	Who would believe me? O perilous mouths,
+	That bear in them one and the self-same tongue,
+	Either of condemnation or approof;
+	Bidding the law make court'sy to their will:
+	Hooking both right and wrong to the appetite,
+	To follow as it draws! I'll to my brother:
+	Though he hath fallen by prompture of the blood,
+	Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour.
+	That, had he twenty heads to tender down
+	On twenty bloody blocks, he'ld yield them up,
+	Before his sister should her body stoop
+	To such abhorr'd pollution.
+	Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die:
+	More than our brother is our chastity.
+	I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request,
+	And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+SCENE I	A room in the prison.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as before, CLAUDIO,
+	and Provost]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	So then you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo?
+
+CLAUDIO	The miserable have no other medicine
+	But only hope:
+	I've hope to live, and am prepared to die.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Be absolute for death; either death or life
+	Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life:
+	If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing
+	That none but fools would keep: a breath thou art,
+	Servile to all the skyey influences,
+	That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st,
+	Hourly afflict: merely, thou art death's fool;
+	For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun
+	And yet runn'st toward him still. Thou art not noble;
+	For all the accommodations that thou bear'st
+	Are nursed by baseness. Thou'rt by no means valiant;
+	For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork
+	Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep,
+	And that thou oft provokest; yet grossly fear'st
+	Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself;
+	For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains
+	That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not;
+	For what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get,
+	And what thou hast, forget'st. Thou art not certain;
+	For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,
+	After the moon. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor;
+	For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows,
+	Thou bear's thy heavy riches but a journey,
+	And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none;
+	For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire,
+	The mere effusion of thy proper loins,
+	Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum,
+	For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age,
+	But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep,
+	Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth
+	Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms
+	Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich,
+	Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty,
+	To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this
+	That bears the name of life? Yet in this life
+	Lie hid moe thousand deaths: yet death we fear,
+	That makes these odds all even.
+
+CLAUDIO	I humbly thank you.
+	To sue to live, I find I seek to die;
+	And, seeking death, find life: let it come on.
+
+ISABELLA	[Within]  What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company!
+
+Provost	Who's there? come in: the wish deserves a welcome.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Dear sir, ere long I'll visit you again.
+
+CLAUDIO	Most holy sir, I thank you.
+
+	[Enter ISABELLA]
+
+ISABELLA	My business is a word or two with Claudio.
+
+Provost	And very welcome. Look, signior, here's your sister.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Provost, a word with you.
+
+Provost	As many as you please.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Bring me to hear them speak, where I may be concealed.
+
+	[Exeunt DUKE VINCENTIO and Provost]
+
+CLAUDIO	Now, sister, what's the comfort?
+
+ISABELLA	Why,
+	As all comforts are; most good, most good indeed.
+	Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven,
+	Intends you for his swift ambassador,
+	Where you shall be an everlasting leiger:
+	Therefore your best appointment make with speed;
+	To-morrow you set on.
+
+CLAUDIO	Is there no remedy?
+
+ISABELLA	None, but such remedy as, to save a head,
+	To cleave a heart in twain.
+
+CLAUDIO	But is there any?
+
+ISABELLA	Yes, brother, you may live:
+	There is a devilish mercy in the judge,
+	If you'll implore it, that will free your life,
+	But fetter you till death.
+
+CLAUDIO	Perpetual durance?
+
+ISABELLA	Ay, just; perpetual durance, a restraint,
+	Though all the world's vastidity you had,
+	To a determined scope.
+
+CLAUDIO	But in what nature?
+
+ISABELLA	In such a one as, you consenting to't,
+	Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear,
+	And leave you naked.
+
+CLAUDIO	Let me know the point.
+
+ISABELLA	O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake,
+	Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain,
+	And six or seven winters more respect
+	Than a perpetual honour. Darest thou die?
+	The sense of death is most in apprehension;
+	And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,
+	In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
+	As when a giant dies.
+
+CLAUDIO	Why give you me this shame?
+	Think you I can a resolution fetch
+	From flowery tenderness? If I must die,
+	I will encounter darkness as a bride,
+	And hug it in mine arms.
+
+ISABELLA	There spake my brother; there my father's grave
+	Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die:
+	Thou art too noble to conserve a life
+	In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy,
+	Whose settled visage and deliberate word
+	Nips youth i' the head and follies doth emmew
+	As falcon doth the fowl, is yet a devil
+	His filth within being cast, he would appear
+	A pond as deep as hell.
+
+CLAUDIO	The prenzie Angelo!
+
+ISABELLA	O, 'tis the cunning livery of hell,
+	The damned'st body to invest and cover
+	In prenzie guards! Dost thou think, Claudio?
+	If I would yield him my virginity,
+	Thou mightst be freed.
+
+CLAUDIO	O heavens! it cannot be.
+
+ISABELLA	Yes, he would give't thee, from this rank offence,
+	So to offend him still. This night's the time
+	That I should do what I abhor to name,
+	Or else thou diest to-morrow.
+
+CLAUDIO	Thou shalt not do't.
+
+ISABELLA	O, were it but my life,
+	I'ld throw it down for your deliverance
+	As frankly as a pin.
+
+CLAUDIO	Thanks, dear Isabel.
+
+ISABELLA	Be ready, Claudio, for your death tomorrow.
+
+CLAUDIO	Yes. Has he affections in him,
+	That thus can make him bite the law by the nose,
+	When he would force it? Sure, it is no sin,
+	Or of the deadly seven, it is the least.
+
+ISABELLA	Which is the least?
+
+CLAUDIO	If it were damnable, he being so wise,
+	Why would he for the momentary trick
+	Be perdurably fined? O Isabel!
+
+ISABELLA	What says my brother?
+
+CLAUDIO	Death is a fearful thing.
+
+ISABELLA	And shamed life a hateful.
+
+CLAUDIO	Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;
+	To lie in cold obstruction and to rot;
+	This sensible warm motion to become
+	A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit
+	To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
+	In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice;
+	To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
+	And blown with restless violence round about
+	The pendent world; or to be worse than worst
+	Of those that lawless and incertain thought
+	Imagine howling: 'tis too horrible!
+	The weariest and most loathed worldly life
+	That age, ache, penury and imprisonment
+	Can lay on nature is a paradise
+	To what we fear of death.
+
+ISABELLA	Alas, alas!
+
+CLAUDIO	          Sweet sister, let me live:
+	What sin you do to save a brother's life,
+	Nature dispenses with the deed so far
+	That it becomes a virtue.
+
+ISABELLA	O you beast!
+	O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!
+	Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
+	Is't not a kind of incest, to take life
+	From thine own sister's shame? What should I think?
+	Heaven shield my mother play'd my father fair!
+	For such a warped slip of wilderness
+	Ne'er issued from his blood. Take my defiance!
+	Die, perish! Might but my bending down
+	Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed:
+	I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death,
+	No word to save thee.
+
+CLAUDIO	Nay, hear me, Isabel.
+
+ISABELLA	O, fie, fie, fie!
+	Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade.
+	Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd:
+	'Tis best thou diest quickly.
+
+CLAUDIO	O hear me, Isabella!
+
+	[Re-enter DUKE VINCENTIO]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word.
+
+ISABELLA	What is your will?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by and
+	by have some speech with you: the satisfaction I
+	would require is likewise your own benefit.
+
+ISABELLA	I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be
+	stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you awhile.
+
+	[Walks apart]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Son, I have overheard what hath passed between you
+	and your sister. Angelo had never the purpose to
+	corrupt her; only he hath made an essay of her
+	virtue to practise his judgment with the disposition
+	of natures: she, having the truth of honour in her,
+	hath made him that gracious denial which he is most
+	glad to receive. I am confessor to Angelo, and I
+	know this to be true; therefore prepare yourself to
+	death: do not satisfy your resolution with hopes
+	that are fallible: tomorrow you must die; go to
+	your knees and make ready.
+
+CLAUDIO	Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of love
+	with life that I will sue to be rid of it.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Hold you there: farewell.
+
+	[Exit CLAUDIO]
+
+	Provost, a word with you!
+
+	[Re-enter Provost]
+
+Provost	What's your will, father
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	That now you are come, you will be gone. Leave me
+	awhile with the maid: my mind promises with my
+	habit no loss shall touch her by my company.
+
+Provost	In good time.
+
+	[Exit Provost. ISABELLA comes forward]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good:
+	the goodness that is cheap in beauty makes beauty
+	brief in goodness; but grace, being the soul of
+	your complexion, shall keep the body of it ever
+	fair. The assault that Angelo hath made to you,
+	fortune hath conveyed to my understanding; and, but
+	that frailty hath examples for his falling, I should
+	wonder at Angelo. How will you do to content this
+	substitute, and to save your brother?
+
+ISABELLA	I am now going to resolve him: I had rather my
+	brother die by the law than my son should be
+	unlawfully born. But, O, how much is the good duke
+	deceived in Angelo! If ever he return and I can
+	speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or
+	discover his government.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	That shall not be much amiss: Yet, as the matter
+	now stands, he will avoid your accusation; he made
+	trial of you only. Therefore fasten your ear on my
+	advisings: to the love I have in doing good a
+	remedy presents itself. I do make myself believe
+	that you may most uprighteously do a poor wronged
+	lady a merited benefit; redeem your brother from
+	the angry law; do no stain to your own gracious
+	person; and much please the absent duke, if
+	peradventure he shall ever return to have hearing of
+	this business.
+
+ISABELLA	Let me hear you speak farther. I have spirit to do
+	anything that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have
+	you not heard speak of Mariana, the sister of
+	Frederick the great soldier who miscarried at sea?
+
+ISABELLA	I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	She should this Angelo have married; was affianced
+	to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed: between
+	which time of the contract and limit of the
+	solemnity, her brother Frederick was wrecked at sea,
+	having in that perished vessel the dowry of his
+	sister. But mark how heavily this befell to the
+	poor gentlewoman: there she lost a noble and
+	renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most
+	kind and natural; with him, the portion and sinew of
+	her fortune, her marriage-dowry; with both, her
+	combinate husband, this well-seeming Angelo.
+
+ISABELLA	Can this be so? did Angelo so leave her?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Left her in her tears, and dried not one of them
+	with his comfort; swallowed his vows whole,
+	pretending in her discoveries of dishonour: in few,
+	bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she yet
+	wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her tears,
+	is washed with them, but relents not.
+
+ISABELLA	What a merit were it in death to take this poor maid
+	from the world! What corruption in this life, that
+	it will let this man live! But how out of this can she avail?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	It is a rupture that you may easily heal: and the
+	cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps
+	you from dishonour in doing it.
+
+ISABELLA	Show me how, good father.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	This forenamed maid hath yet in her the continuance
+	of her first affection: his unjust unkindness, that
+	in all reason should have quenched her love, hath,
+	like an impediment in the current, made it more
+	violent and unruly. Go you to Angelo; answer his
+	requiring with a plausible obedience; agree with
+	his demands to the point; only refer yourself to
+	this advantage, first, that your stay with him may
+	not be long; that the time may have all shadow and
+	silence in it; and the place answer to convenience.
+	This being granted in course,--and now follows
+	all,--we shall advise this wronged maid to stead up
+	your appointment, go in your place; if the encounter
+	acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to
+	her recompense: and here, by this, is your brother
+	saved, your honour untainted, the poor Mariana
+	advantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled. The maid
+	will I frame and make fit for his attempt. If you
+	think well to carry this as you may, the doubleness
+	of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof.
+	What think you of it?
+
+ISABELLA	The image of it gives me content already; and I
+	trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	It lies much in your holding up. Haste you speedily
+	to Angelo: if for this night he entreat you to his
+	bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will
+	presently to Saint Luke's: there, at the moated
+	grange, resides this dejected Mariana. At that
+	place call upon me; and dispatch with Angelo, that
+	it may be quickly.
+
+ISABELLA	I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well, good father.
+
+	[Exeunt severally]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The street before the prison.
+
+
+	[Enter, on one side, DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as
+	before; on the other, ELBOW, and Officers with POMPEY]
+
+ELBOW	Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will
+	needs buy and sell men and women like beasts, we
+	shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	O heavens! what stuff is here
+
+POMPEY	'Twas never merry world since, of two usuries, the
+	merriest was put down, and the worser allowed by
+	order of law a furred gown to keep him warm; and
+	furred with fox and lamb-skins too, to signify, that
+	craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the facing.
+
+ELBOW	Come your way, sir. 'Bless you, good father friar.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	And you, good brother father. What offence hath
+	this man made you, sir?
+
+ELBOW	Marry, sir, he hath offended the law: and, sir, we
+	take him to be a thief too, sir; for we have found
+	upon him, sir, a strange picklock, which we have
+	sent to the deputy.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Fie, sirrah! a bawd, a wicked bawd!
+	The evil that thou causest to be done,
+	That is thy means to live. Do thou but think
+	What 'tis to cram a maw or clothe a back
+	From such a filthy vice: say to thyself,
+	From their abominable and beastly touches
+	I drink, I eat, array myself, and live.
+	Canst thou believe thy living is a life,
+	So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend.
+
+POMPEY	Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir; but yet,
+	sir, I would prove--
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin,
+	Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, officer:
+	Correction and instruction must both work
+	Ere this rude beast will profit.
+
+ELBOW	He must before the deputy, sir; he has given him
+	warning: the deputy cannot abide a whoremaster: if
+	he be a whoremonger, and comes before him, he were
+	as good go a mile on his errand.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	That we were all, as some would seem to be,
+	From our faults, as faults from seeming, free!
+
+ELBOW	His neck will come to your waist,--a cord, sir.
+
+POMPEY	I spy comfort; I cry bail. Here's a gentleman and a
+	friend of mine.
+
+	[Enter LUCIO]
+
+LUCIO	How now, noble Pompey! What, at the wheels of
+	Caesar? art thou led in triumph? What, is there
+	none of Pygmalion's images, newly made woman, to be
+	had now, for putting the hand in the pocket and
+	extracting it clutch'd? What reply, ha? What
+	sayest thou to this tune, matter and method? Is't
+	not drowned i' the last rain, ha? What sayest
+	thou, Trot? Is the world as it was, man? Which is
+	the way? Is it sad, and few words? or how? The
+	trick of it?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Still thus, and thus; still worse!
+
+LUCIO	How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress? Procures she
+	still, ha?
+
+POMPEY	Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and she
+	is herself in the tub.
+
+LUCIO	Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it must be
+	so: ever your fresh whore and your powdered bawd:
+	an unshunned consequence; it must be so. Art going
+	to prison, Pompey?
+
+POMPEY	Yes, faith, sir.
+
+LUCIO	Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell: go, say I
+	sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? or how?
+
+ELBOW	For being a bawd, for being a bawd.
+
+LUCIO	Well, then, imprison him: if imprisonment be the
+	due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right: bawd is he
+	doubtless, and of antiquity too; bawd-born.
+	Farewell, good Pompey. Commend me to the prison,
+	Pompey: you will turn good husband now, Pompey; you
+	will keep the house.
+
+POMPEY	I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail.
+
+LUCIO	No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the wear.
+	I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage: If
+	you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the
+	more. Adieu, trusty Pompey. 'Bless you, friar.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	And you.
+
+LUCIO	Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, ha?
+
+ELBOW	Come your ways, sir; come.
+
+POMPEY	You will not bail me, then, sir?
+
+LUCIO	Then, Pompey, nor now. What news abroad, friar?
+	what news?
+
+ELBOW	Come your ways, sir; come.
+
+LUCIO	Go to kennel, Pompey; go.
+
+	[Exeunt ELBOW, POMPEY and Officers]
+
+	What news, friar, of the duke?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I know none. Can you tell me of any?
+
+LUCIO	Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia; other
+	some, he is in Rome: but where is he, think you?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I know not where; but wheresoever, I wish him well.
+
+LUCIO	It was a mad fantastical trick of him to steal from
+	the state, and usurp the beggary he was never born
+	to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence; he
+	puts transgression to 't.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	He does well in 't.
+
+LUCIO	A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm in
+	him: something too crabbed that way, friar.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	It is too general a vice, and severity must cure it.
+
+LUCIO	Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred;
+	it is well allied: but it is impossible to extirp
+	it quite, friar, till eating and drinking be put
+	down. They say this Angelo was not made by man and
+	woman after this downright way of creation: is it
+	true, think you?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	How should he be made, then?
+
+LUCIO	Some report a sea-maid spawned him; some, that he
+	was begot between two stock-fishes. But it is
+	certain that when he makes water his urine is
+	congealed ice; that I know to be true: and he is a
+	motion generative; that's infallible.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	You are pleasant, sir, and speak apace.
+
+LUCIO	Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the
+	rebellion of a codpiece to take away the life of a
+	man! Would the duke that is absent have done this?
+	Ere he would have hanged a man for the getting a
+	hundred bastards, he would have paid for the nursing
+	a thousand: he had some feeling of the sport: he
+	knew the service, and that instructed him to mercy.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I never heard the absent duke much detected for
+	women; he was not inclined that way.
+
+LUCIO	O, sir, you are deceived.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	'Tis not possible.
+
+LUCIO	Who, not the duke? yes, your beggar of fifty; and
+	his use was to put a ducat in her clack-dish: the
+	duke had crotchets in him. He would be drunk too;
+	that let me inform you.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	You do him wrong, surely.
+
+LUCIO	Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was the
+	duke: and I believe I know the cause of his
+	withdrawing.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	What, I prithee, might be the cause?
+
+LUCIO	No, pardon; 'tis a secret must be locked within the
+	teeth and the lips: but this I can let you
+	understand, the greater file of the subject held the
+	duke to be wise.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Wise! why, no question but he was.
+
+LUCIO	A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Either this is the envy in you, folly, or mistaking:
+	the very stream of his life and the business he hath
+	helmed must upon a warranted need give him a better
+	proclamation. Let him be but testimonied in his own
+	bringings-forth, and he shall appear to the
+	envious a scholar, a statesman and a soldier.
+	Therefore you speak unskilfully: or if your
+	knowledge be more it is much darkened in your malice.
+
+LUCIO	Sir, I know him, and I love him.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with
+	dearer love.
+
+LUCIO	Come, sir, I know what I know.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I can hardly believe that, since you know not what
+	you speak. But, if ever the duke return, as our
+	prayers are he may, let me desire you to make your
+	answer before him. If it be honest you have spoke,
+	you have courage to maintain it: I am bound to call
+	upon you; and, I pray you, your name?
+
+LUCIO	Sir, my name is Lucio; well known to the duke.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	He shall know you better, sir, if I may live to
+	report you.
+
+LUCIO	I fear you not.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	O, you hope the duke will return no more; or you
+	imagine me too unhurtful an opposite. But indeed I
+	can do you little harm; you'll forswear this again.
+
+LUCIO	I'll be hanged first: thou art deceived in me,
+	friar. But no more of this. Canst thou tell if
+	Claudio die to-morrow or no?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Why should he die, sir?
+
+LUCIO	Why? For filling a bottle with a tundish. I would
+	the duke we talk of were returned again: the
+	ungenitured agent will unpeople the province with
+	continency; sparrows must not build in his
+	house-eaves, because they are lecherous. The duke
+	yet would have dark deeds darkly answered; he would
+	never bring them to light: would he were returned!
+	Marry, this Claudio is condemned for untrussing.
+	Farewell, good friar: I prithee, pray for me. The
+	duke, I say to thee again, would eat mutton on
+	Fridays. He's not past it yet, and I say to thee,
+	he would mouth with a beggar, though she smelt brown
+	bread and garlic: say that I said so. Farewell.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	No might nor greatness in mortality
+	Can censure 'scape; back-wounding calumny
+	The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong
+	Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?
+	But who comes here?
+
+	[Enter ESCALUS, Provost, and Officers with MISTRESS OVERDONE]
+
+ESCALUS	Go; away with her to prison!
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	Good my lord, be good to me; your honour is accounted
+	a merciful man; good my lord.
+
+ESCALUS	Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit in
+	the same kind! This would make mercy swear and play
+	the tyrant.
+
+Provost	A bawd of eleven years' continuance, may it please
+	your honour.
+
+MISTRESS OVERDONE	My lord, this is one Lucio's information against me.
+	Mistress Kate Keepdown was with child by him in the
+	duke's time; he promised her marriage: his child
+	is a year and a quarter old, come Philip and Jacob:
+	I have kept it myself; and see how he goes about to abuse me!
+
+ESCALUS	That fellow is a fellow of much licence: let him be
+	called before us. Away with her to prison! Go to;
+	no more words.
+
+	[Exeunt Officers with MISTRESS OVERDONE]
+
+	Provost, my brother Angelo will not be altered;
+	Claudio must die to-morrow: let him be furnished
+	with divines, and have all charitable preparation.
+	if my brother wrought by my pity, it should not be
+	so with him.
+
+Provost	So please you, this friar hath been with him, and
+	advised him for the entertainment of death.
+
+ESCALUS	Good even, good father.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Bliss and goodness on you!
+
+ESCALUS	Of whence are you?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Not of this country, though my chance is now
+	To use it for my time: I am a brother
+	Of gracious order, late come from the See
+	In special business from his holiness.
+
+ESCALUS	What news abroad i' the world?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	None, but that there is so great a fever on
+	goodness, that the dissolution of it must cure it:
+	novelty is only in request; and it is as dangerous
+	to be aged in any kind of course, as it is virtuous
+	to be constant in any undertaking. There is scarce
+	truth enough alive to make societies secure; but
+	security enough to make fellowships accurst: much
+	upon this riddle runs the wisdom of the world. This
+	news is old enough, yet it is every day's news. I
+	pray you, sir, of what disposition was the duke?
+
+ESCALUS	One that, above all other strifes, contended
+	especially to know himself.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	What pleasure was he given to?
+
+ESCALUS	Rather rejoicing to see another merry, than merry at
+	any thing which professed to make him rejoice: a
+	gentleman of all temperance. But leave we him to
+	his events, with a prayer they may prove prosperous;
+	and let me desire to know how you find Claudio
+	prepared. I am made to understand that you have
+	lent him visitation.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	He professes to have received no sinister measure
+	from his judge, but most willingly humbles himself
+	to the determination of justice: yet had he framed
+	to himself, by the instruction of his frailty, many
+	deceiving promises of life; which I by my good
+	leisure have discredited to him, and now is he
+	resolved to die.
+
+ESCALUS	You have paid the heavens your function, and the
+	prisoner the very debt of your calling. I have
+	laboured for the poor gentleman to the extremest
+	shore of my modesty: but my brother justice have I
+	found so severe, that he hath forced me to tell him
+	he is indeed Justice.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	If his own life answer the straitness of his
+	proceeding, it shall become him well; wherein if he
+	chance to fail, he hath sentenced himself.
+
+ESCALUS	I am going to visit the prisoner. Fare you well.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Peace be with you!
+
+	[Exeunt ESCALUS and Provost]
+
+	He who the sword of heaven will bear
+	Should be as holy as severe;
+	Pattern in himself to know,
+	Grace to stand, and virtue go;
+	More nor less to others paying
+	Than by self-offences weighing.
+	Shame to him whose cruel striking
+	Kills for faults of his own liking!
+	Twice treble shame on Angelo,
+	To weed my vice and let his grow!
+	O, what may man within him hide,
+	Though angel on the outward side!
+	How may likeness made in crimes,
+	Making practise on the times,
+	To draw with idle spiders' strings
+	Most ponderous and substantial things!
+	Craft against vice I must apply:
+	With Angelo to-night shall lie
+	His old betrothed but despised;
+	So disguise shall, by the disguised,
+	Pay with falsehood false exacting,
+	And perform an old contracting.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE I	The moated grange at ST. LUKE's.
+
+
+	[Enter MARIANA and a Boy]
+
+	[Boy sings]
+
+	Take, O, take those lips away,
+	That so sweetly were forsworn;
+	And those eyes, the break of day,
+	Lights that do mislead the morn:
+	But my kisses bring again, bring again;
+	Seals of love, but sealed in vain, sealed in vain.
+
+MARIANA	Break off thy song, and haste thee quick away:
+	Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice
+	Hath often still'd my brawling discontent.
+
+	[Exit Boy]
+
+	[Enter DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as before]
+
+	I cry you mercy, sir; and well could wish
+	You had not found me here so musical:
+	Let me excuse me, and believe me so,
+	My mirth it much displeased, but pleased my woe.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	'Tis good; though music oft hath such a charm
+	To make bad good, and good provoke to harm.
+	I pray, you, tell me, hath any body inquired
+	for me here to-day? much upon this time have
+	I promised here to meet.
+
+MARIANA	You have not been inquired after:
+	I have sat here all day.
+
+	[Enter ISABELLA]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I do constantly believe you. The time is come even
+	now. I shall crave your forbearance a little: may
+	be I will call upon you anon, for some advantage to yourself.
+
+MARIANA	I am always bound to you.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Very well met, and well come.
+	What is the news from this good deputy?
+
+ISABELLA	He hath a garden circummured with brick,
+	Whose western side is with a vineyard back'd;
+	And to that vineyard is a planched gate,
+	That makes his opening with this bigger key:
+	This other doth command a little door
+	Which from the vineyard to the garden leads;
+	There have I made my promise
+	Upon the heavy middle of the night
+	To call upon him.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	But shall you on your knowledge find this way?
+
+ISABELLA	I have ta'en a due and wary note upon't:
+	With whispering and most guilty diligence,
+	In action all of precept, he did show me
+	The way twice o'er.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Are there no other tokens
+	Between you 'greed concerning her observance?
+
+ISABELLA	No, none, but only a repair i' the dark;
+	And that I have possess'd him my most stay
+	Can be but brief; for I have made him know
+	I have a servant comes with me along,
+	That stays upon me, whose persuasion is
+	I come about my brother.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	'Tis well borne up.
+	I have not yet made known to Mariana
+	A word of this. What, ho! within! come forth!
+
+	[Re-enter MARIANA]
+
+	I pray you, be acquainted with this maid;
+	She comes to do you good.
+
+ISABELLA	I do desire the like.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Do you persuade yourself that I respect you?
+
+MARIANA	Good friar, I know you do, and have found it.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Take, then, this your companion by the hand,
+	Who hath a story ready for your ear.
+	I shall attend your leisure: but make haste;
+	The vaporous night approaches.
+
+MARIANA	Will't please you walk aside?
+
+	[Exeunt MARIANA and ISABELLA]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	O place and greatness! millions of false eyes
+	Are stuck upon thee: volumes of report
+	Run with these false and most contrarious quests
+	Upon thy doings: thousand escapes of wit
+	Make thee the father of their idle dreams
+	And rack thee in their fancies.
+
+	[Re-enter MARIANA and ISABELLA]
+
+		          Welcome, how agreed?
+
+ISABELLA	She'll take the enterprise upon her, father,
+	If you advise it.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	                  It is not my consent,
+	But my entreaty too.
+
+ISABELLA	Little have you to say
+	When you depart from him, but, soft and low,
+	'Remember now my brother.'
+
+MARIANA	Fear me not.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all.
+	He is your husband on a pre-contract:
+	To bring you thus together, 'tis no sin,
+	Sith that the justice of your title to him
+	Doth flourish the deceit. Come, let us go:
+	Our corn's to reap, for yet our tithe's to sow.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE II	A room in the prison.
+
+
+	[Enter Provost and POMPEY]
+
+Provost	Come hither, sirrah. Can you cut off a man's head?
+
+POMPEY	If the man be a bachelor, sir, I can; but if he be a
+	married man, he's his wife's head, and I can never
+	cut off a woman's head.
+
+Provost	Come, sir, leave me your snatches, and yield me a
+	direct answer. To-morrow morning are to die Claudio
+	and Barnardine. Here is in our prison a common
+	executioner, who in his office lacks a helper: if
+	you will take it on you to assist him, it shall
+	redeem you from your gyves; if not, you shall have
+	your full time of imprisonment and your deliverance
+	with an unpitied whipping, for you have been a
+	notorious bawd.
+
+POMPEY	Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd time out of mind;
+	but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman. I
+	would be glad to receive some instruction from my
+	fellow partner.
+
+Provost	What, ho! Abhorson! Where's Abhorson, there?
+
+	[Enter ABHORSON]
+
+ABHORSON	Do you call, sir?
+
+Provost	Sirrah, here's a fellow will help you to-morrow in
+	your execution. If you think it meet, compound with
+	him by the year, and let him abide here with you; if
+	not, use him for the present and dismiss him. He
+	cannot plead his estimation with you; he hath been a bawd.
+
+ABHORSON	A bawd, sir? fie upon him! he will discredit our mystery.
+
+Provost	Go to, sir; you weigh equally; a feather will turn
+	the scale.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+POMPEY	Pray, sir, by your good favour,--for surely, sir, a
+	good favour you have, but that you have a hanging
+	look,--do you call, sir, your occupation a mystery?
+
+ABHORSON	Ay, sir; a mystery
+
+POMPEY	Painting, sir, I have heard say, is a mystery; and
+	your whores, sir, being members of my occupation,
+	using painting, do prove my occupation a mystery:
+	but what mystery there should be in hanging, if I
+	should be hanged, I cannot imagine.
+
+ABHORSON	Sir, it is a mystery.
+
+POMPEY	Proof?
+
+ABHORSON	Every true man's apparel fits your thief: if it be
+	too little for your thief, your true man thinks it
+	big enough; if it be too big for your thief, your
+	thief thinks it little enough: so every true man's
+	apparel fits your thief.
+
+	[Re-enter Provost]
+
+Provost	Are you agreed?
+
+POMPEY	Sir, I will serve him; for I do find your hangman is
+	a more penitent trade than your bawd; he doth
+	oftener ask forgiveness.
+
+Provost	You, sirrah, provide your block and your axe
+	to-morrow four o'clock.
+
+ABHORSON	Come on, bawd; I will instruct thee in my trade; follow.
+
+POMPEY	I do desire to learn, sir: and I hope, if you have
+	occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find
+	me yare; for truly, sir, for your kindness I owe you
+	a good turn.
+
+Provost	Call hither Barnardine and Claudio:
+
+	[Exeunt POMPEY and ABHORSON]
+
+	The one has my pity; not a jot the other,
+	Being a murderer, though he were my brother.
+
+	[Enter CLAUDIO]
+
+	Look, here's the warrant, Claudio, for thy death:
+	'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to-morrow
+	Thou must be made immortal. Where's Barnardine?
+
+CLAUDIO	As fast lock'd up in sleep as guiltless labour
+	When it lies starkly in the traveller's bones:
+	He will not wake.
+
+Provost	                  Who can do good on him?
+	Well, go, prepare yourself.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+		      But, hark, what noise?
+	Heaven give your spirits comfort!
+
+	[Exit CLAUDIO]
+
+		                  By and by.
+	I hope it is some pardon or reprieve
+	For the most gentle Claudio.
+
+	[Enter DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as before]
+
+		       Welcome father.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	The best and wholesomest spirts of the night
+	Envelope you, good Provost! Who call'd here of late?
+
+Provost	None, since the curfew rung.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Not Isabel?
+
+Provost	          No.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	                  They will, then, ere't be long.
+
+Provost	What comfort is for Claudio?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	There's some in hope.
+
+Provost	It is a bitter deputy.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Not so, not so; his life is parallel'd
+	Even with the stroke and line of his great justice:
+	He doth with holy abstinence subdue
+	That in himself which he spurs on his power
+	To qualify in others: were he meal'd with that
+	Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous;
+	But this being so, he's just.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+		        Now are they come.
+
+	[Exit Provost]
+
+	This is a gentle provost: seldom when
+	The steeled gaoler is the friend of men.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+	How now! what noise? That spirit's possessed with haste
+	That wounds the unsisting postern with these strokes.
+
+	[Re-enter Provost]
+
+Provost	There he must stay until the officer
+	Arise to let him in: he is call'd up.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Have you no countermand for Claudio yet,
+	But he must die to-morrow?
+
+Provost	None, sir, none.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	As near the dawning, provost, as it is,
+	You shall hear more ere morning.
+
+Provost	Happily
+	You something know; yet I believe there comes
+	No countermand; no such example have we:
+	Besides, upon the very siege of justice
+	Lord Angelo hath to the public ear
+	Profess'd the contrary.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+		  This is his lordship's man.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	And here comes Claudio's pardon.
+
+Messenger	[Giving a paper]
+
+	My lord hath sent you this note; and by me this
+	further charge, that you swerve not from the
+	smallest article of it, neither in time, matter, or
+	other circumstance. Good morrow; for, as I take it,
+	it is almost day.
+
+Provost	I shall obey him.
+
+	[Exit Messenger]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	[Aside]  This is his pardon, purchased by such sin
+	For which the pardoner himself is in.
+	Hence hath offence his quick celerity,
+	When it is born in high authority:
+	When vice makes mercy, mercy's so extended,
+	That for the fault's love is the offender friended.
+	Now, sir, what news?
+
+Provost	I told you. Lord Angelo, belike thinking me remiss
+	in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted
+	putting-on; methinks strangely, for he hath not used it before.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Pray you, let's hear.
+
+Provost	[Reads]
+
+	'Whatsoever you may hear to the contrary, let
+	Claudio be executed by four of the clock; and in the
+	afternoon Barnardine: for my better satisfaction,
+	let me have Claudio's head sent me by five. Let
+	this be duly performed; with a thought that more
+	depends on it than we must yet deliver. Thus fail
+	not to do your office, as you will answer it at your peril.'
+	What say you to this, sir?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	What is that Barnardine who is to be executed in the
+	afternoon?
+
+Provost	A Bohemian born, but here nursed un and bred; one
+	that is a prisoner nine years old.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	How came it that the absent duke had not either
+	delivered him to his liberty or executed him? I
+	have heard it was ever his manner to do so.
+
+Provost	His friends still wrought reprieves for him: and,
+	indeed, his fact, till now in the government of Lord
+	Angelo, came not to an undoubtful proof.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	It is now apparent?
+
+Provost	Most manifest, and not denied by himself.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Hath he born himself penitently in prison? how
+	seems he to be touched?
+
+Provost	A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but
+	as a drunken sleep; careless, reckless, and fearless
+	of what's past, present, or to come; insensible of
+	mortality, and desperately mortal.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	He wants advice.
+
+Provost	He will hear none: he hath evermore had the liberty
+	of the prison; give him leave to escape hence, he
+	would not: drunk many times a day, if not many days
+	entirely drunk. We have very oft awaked him, as if
+	to carry him to execution, and showed him a seeming
+	warrant for it: it hath not moved him at all.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	More of him anon. There is written in your brow,
+	provost, honesty and constancy: if I read it not
+	truly, my ancient skill beguiles me; but, in the
+	boldness of my cunning, I will lay myself in hazard.
+	Claudio, whom here you have warrant to execute, is
+	no greater forfeit to the law than Angelo who hath
+	sentenced him. To make you understand this in a
+	manifested effect, I crave but four days' respite;
+	for the which you are to do me both a present and a
+	dangerous courtesy.
+
+Provost	Pray, sir, in what?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	In the delaying death.
+
+Provost	A lack, how may I do it, having the hour limited,
+	and an express command, under penalty, to deliver
+	his head in the view of Angelo? I may make my case
+	as Claudio's, to cross this in the smallest.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	By the vow of mine order I warrant you, if my
+	instructions may be your guide. Let this Barnardine
+	be this morning executed, and his head born to Angelo.
+
+Provost	Angelo hath seen them both, and will discover the favour.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	O, death's a great disguiser; and you may add to it.
+	Shave the head, and tie the beard; and say it was
+	the desire of the penitent to be so bared before his
+	death: you know the course is common. If any thing
+	fall to you upon this, more than thanks and good
+	fortune, by the saint whom I profess, I will plead
+	against it with my life.
+
+Provost	Pardon me, good father; it is against my oath.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Were you sworn to the duke, or to the deputy?
+
+Provost	To him, and to his substitutes.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	You will think you have made no offence, if the duke
+	avouch the justice of your dealing?
+
+Provost	But what likelihood is in that?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Not a resemblance, but a certainty. Yet since I see
+	you fearful, that neither my coat, integrity, nor
+	persuasion can with ease attempt you, I will go
+	further than I meant, to pluck all fears out of you.
+	Look you, sir, here is the hand and seal of the
+	duke: you know the character, I doubt not; and the
+	signet is not strange to you.
+
+Provost	I know them both.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	The contents of this is the return of the duke: you
+	shall anon over-read it at your pleasure; where you
+	shall find, within these two days he will be here.
+	This is a thing that Angelo knows not; for he this
+	very day receives letters of strange tenor;
+	perchance of the duke's death; perchance entering
+	into some monastery; but, by chance, nothing of what
+	is writ. Look, the unfolding star calls up the
+	shepherd. Put not yourself into amazement how these
+	things should be: all difficulties are but easy
+	when they are known. Call your executioner, and off
+	with Barnardine's head: I will give him a present
+	shrift and advise him for a better place. Yet you
+	are amazed; but this shall absolutely resolve you.
+	Come away; it is almost clear dawn.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE III	Another room in the same.
+
+
+	[Enter POMPEY]
+
+POMPEY	I am as well acquainted here as I was in our house
+	of profession: one would think it were Mistress
+	Overdone's own house, for here be many of her old
+	customers. First, here's young Master Rash; he's in
+	for a commodity of brown paper and old ginger,
+	ninescore and seventeen pounds; of which he made
+	five marks, ready money: marry, then ginger was not
+	much in request, for the old women were all dead.
+	Then is there here one Master Caper, at the suit of
+	Master Three-pile the mercer, for some four suits of
+	peach-coloured satin, which now peaches him a
+	beggar. Then have we here young Dizy, and young
+	Master Deep-vow, and Master Copperspur, and Master
+	Starve-lackey the rapier and dagger man, and young
+	Drop-heir that killed lusty Pudding, and Master
+	Forthlight the tilter, and brave Master Shooty the
+	great traveller, and wild Half-can that stabbed
+	Pots, and, I think, forty more; all great doers in
+	our trade, and are now 'for the Lord's sake.'
+
+	[Enter ABHORSON]
+
+ABHORSON	Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither.
+
+POMPEY	Master Barnardine! you must rise and be hanged.
+	Master Barnardine!
+
+ABHORSON	What, ho, Barnardine!
+
+BARNARDINE	[Within]  A pox o' your throats! Who makes that
+	noise there? What are you?
+
+POMPEY	Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be so
+	good, sir, to rise and be put to death.
+
+BARNARDINE	[Within]  Away, you rogue, away! I am sleepy.
+
+ABHORSON	Tell him he must awake, and that quickly too.
+
+POMPEY	Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you are
+	executed, and sleep afterwards.
+
+ABHORSON	Go in to him, and fetch him out.
+
+POMPEY	He is coming, sir, he is coming; I hear his straw rustle.
+
+ABHORSON	Is the axe upon the block, sirrah?
+
+POMPEY	Very ready, sir.
+
+	[Enter BARNARDINE]
+
+BARNARDINE	How now, Abhorson? what's the news with you?
+
+ABHORSON	Truly, sir, I would desire you to clap into your
+	prayers; for, look you, the warrant's come.
+
+BARNARDINE	You rogue, I have been drinking all night; I am not
+	fitted for 't.
+
+POMPEY	O, the better, sir; for he that drinks all night,
+	and is hanged betimes in the morning, may sleep the
+	sounder all the next day.
+
+ABHORSON	Look you, sir; here comes your ghostly father: do
+	we jest now, think you?
+
+	[Enter DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as before]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing how hastily
+	you are to depart, I am come to advise you, comfort
+	you and pray with you.
+
+BARNARDINE	Friar, not I	I have been drinking hard all night,
+	and I will have more time to prepare me, or they
+	shall beat out my brains with billets: I will not
+	consent to die this day, that's certain.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	O, sir, you must: and therefore I beseech you
+	Look forward on the journey you shall go.
+
+BARNARDINE	I swear I will not die to-day for any man's
+	persuasion.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	But hear you.
+
+BARNARDINE	Not a word: if you have any thing to say to me,
+	come to my ward; for thence will not I to-day.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Unfit to live or die: O gravel heart!
+	After him, fellows; bring him to the block.
+
+	[Exeunt ABHORSON and POMPEY]
+
+	[Re-enter Provost]
+
+Provost	Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	A creature unprepared, unmeet for death;
+	And to transport him in the mind he is
+	Were damnable.
+
+Provost	                  Here in the prison, father,
+	There died this morning of a cruel fever
+	One Ragozine, a most notorious pirate,
+	A man of Claudio's years; his beard and head
+	Just of his colour. What if we do omit
+	This reprobate till he were well inclined;
+	And satisfy the deputy with the visage
+	Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	O, 'tis an accident that heaven provides!
+	Dispatch it presently; the hour draws on
+	Prefix'd by Angelo: see this be done,
+	And sent according to command; whiles I
+	Persuade this rude wretch willingly to die.
+
+Provost	This shall be done, good father, presently.
+	But Barnardine must die this afternoon:
+	And how shall we continue Claudio,
+	To save me from the danger that might come
+	If he were known alive?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Let this be done.
+	Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and Claudio:
+	Ere twice the sun hath made his journal greeting
+	To the under generation, you shall find
+	Your safety manifested.
+
+Provost	I am your free dependant.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Quick, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo.
+
+	[Exit Provost]
+
+	Now will I write letters to Angelo,--
+	The provost, he shall bear them, whose contents
+	Shall witness to him I am near at home,
+	And that, by great injunctions, I am bound
+	To enter publicly: him I'll desire
+	To meet me at the consecrated fount
+	A league below the city; and from thence,
+	By cold gradation and well-balanced form,
+	We shall proceed with Angelo.
+
+	[Re-enter Provost]
+
+Provost	Here is the head; I'll carry it myself.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Convenient is it. Make a swift return;
+	For I would commune with you of such things
+	That want no ear but yours.
+
+Provost	I'll make all speed.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ISABELLA	[Within]  Peace, ho, be here!
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	The tongue of Isabel. She's come to know
+	If yet her brother's pardon be come hither:
+	But I will keep her ignorant of her good,
+	To make her heavenly comforts of despair,
+	When it is least expected.
+
+	[Enter ISABELLA]
+
+ISABELLA	Ho, by your leave!
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter.
+
+ISABELLA	The better, given me by so holy a man.
+	Hath yet the deputy sent my brother's pardon?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	He hath released him, Isabel, from the world:
+	His head is off and sent to Angelo.
+
+ISABELLA	Nay, but it is not so.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	It is no other: show your wisdom, daughter,
+	In your close patience.
+
+ISABELLA	O, I will to him and pluck out his eyes!
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	You shall not be admitted to his sight.
+
+ISABELLA	Unhappy Claudio! wretched Isabel!
+	Injurious world! most damned Angelo!
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	This nor hurts him nor profits you a jot;
+	Forbear it therefore; give your cause to heaven.
+	Mark what I say, which you shall find
+	By every syllable a faithful verity:
+	The duke comes home to-morrow; nay, dry your eyes;
+	One of our convent, and his confessor,
+	Gives me this instance: already he hath carried
+	Notice to Escalus and Angelo,
+	Who do prepare to meet him at the gates,
+	There to give up their power. If you can, pace your wisdom
+	In that good path that I would wish it go,
+	And you shall have your bosom on this wretch,
+	Grace of the duke, revenges to your heart,
+	And general honour.
+
+ISABELLA	                  I am directed by you.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	This letter, then, to Friar Peter give;
+	'Tis that he sent me of the duke's return:
+	Say, by this token, I desire his company
+	At Mariana's house to-night. Her cause and yours
+	I'll perfect him withal, and he shall bring you
+	Before the duke, and to the head of Angelo
+	Accuse him home and home. For my poor self,
+	I am combined by a sacred vow
+	And shall be absent. Wend you with this letter:
+	Command these fretting waters from your eyes
+	With a light heart; trust not my holy order,
+	If I pervert your course. Who's here?
+
+	[Enter LUCIO]
+
+LUCIO	Good even. Friar, where's the provost?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Not within, sir.
+
+LUCIO	O pretty Isabella, I am pale at mine heart to see
+	thine eyes so red: thou must be patient. I am fain
+	to dine and sup with water and bran; I dare not for
+	my head fill my belly; one fruitful meal would set
+	me to 't. But they say the duke will be here
+	to-morrow. By my troth, Isabel, I loved thy brother:
+	if the old fantastical duke of dark corners had been
+	at home, he had lived.
+
+	[Exit ISABELLA]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Sir, the duke is marvellous little beholding to your
+	reports; but the best is, he lives not in them.
+
+LUCIO	Friar, thou knowest not the duke so well as I do:
+	he's a better woodman than thou takest him for.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Well, you'll answer this one day. Fare ye well.
+
+LUCIO	Nay, tarry; I'll go along with thee
+	I can tell thee pretty tales of the duke.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	You have told me too many of him already, sir, if
+	they be true; if not true, none were enough.
+
+LUCIO	I was once before him for getting a wench with child.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Did you such a thing?
+
+LUCIO	Yes, marry, did I	but I was fain to forswear it;
+	they would else have married me to the rotten medlar.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Sir, your company is fairer than honest. Rest you well.
+
+LUCIO	By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end:
+	if bawdy talk offend you, we'll have very little of
+	it. Nay, friar, I am a kind of burr; I shall stick.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE IV	A room in ANGELO's house.
+
+
+	[Enter ANGELO and ESCALUS]
+
+ESCALUS	Every letter he hath writ hath disvouched other.
+
+ANGELO	In most uneven and distracted manner. His actions
+	show much like to madness: pray heaven his wisdom be
+	not tainted! And why meet him at the gates, and
+	redeliver our authorities there
+
+ESCALUS	I guess not.
+
+ANGELO	And why should we proclaim it in an hour before his
+	entering, that if any crave redress of injustice,
+	they should exhibit their petitions in the street?
+
+ESCALUS	He shows his reason for that: to have a dispatch of
+	complaints, and to deliver us from devices
+	hereafter, which shall then have no power to stand
+	against us.
+
+ANGELO	Well, I beseech you, let it be proclaimed betimes
+	i' the morn; I'll call you at your house: give
+	notice to such men of sort and suit as are to meet
+	him.
+
+ESCALUS	I shall, sir. Fare you well.
+
+ANGELO	Good night.
+
+	[Exit ESCALUS]
+
+	This deed unshapes me quite, makes me unpregnant
+	And dull to all proceedings. A deflower'd maid!
+	And by an eminent body that enforced
+	The law against it! But that her tender shame
+	Will not proclaim against her maiden loss,
+	How might she tongue me! Yet reason dares her no;
+	For my authority bears of a credent bulk,
+	That no particular scandal once can touch
+	But it confounds the breather. He should have lived,
+	Save that riotous youth, with dangerous sense,
+	Might in the times to come have ta'en revenge,
+	By so receiving a dishonour'd life
+	With ransom of such shame. Would yet he had lived!
+	A lack, when once our grace we have forgot,
+	Nothing goes right: we would, and we would not.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE V	Fields without the town.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE VINCENTIO in his own habit, and FRIAR PETER]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	These letters at fit time deliver me
+
+	[Giving letters]
+
+	The provost knows our purpose and our plot.
+	The matter being afoot, keep your instruction,
+	And hold you ever to our special drift;
+	Though sometimes you do blench from this to that,
+	As cause doth minister. Go call at Flavius' house,
+	And tell him where I stay: give the like notice
+	To Valentinus, Rowland, and to Crassus,
+	And bid them bring the trumpets to the gate;
+	But send me Flavius first.
+
+FRIAR PETER	It shall be speeded well.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter VARRIUS]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I thank thee, Varrius; thou hast made good haste:
+	Come, we will walk. There's other of our friends
+	Will greet us here anon, my gentle Varrius.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE VI	Street near the city gate.
+
+
+	[Enter ISABELLA and MARIANA]
+
+ISABELLA	To speak so indirectly I am loath:
+	I would say the truth; but to accuse him so,
+	That is your part: yet I am advised to do it;
+	He says, to veil full purpose.
+
+MARIANA	Be ruled by him.
+
+ISABELLA	Besides, he tells me that, if peradventure
+	He speak against me on the adverse side,
+	I should not think it strange; for 'tis a physic
+	That's bitter to sweet end.
+
+MARIANA	I would Friar Peter--
+
+ISABELLA	O, peace! the friar is come.
+
+	[Enter FRIAR PETER]
+
+FRIAR PETER	Come, I have found you out a stand most fit,
+	Where you may have such vantage on the duke,
+	He shall not pass you. Twice have the trumpets sounded;
+	The generous and gravest citizens
+	Have hent the gates, and very near upon
+	The duke is entering: therefore, hence, away!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MEASURE FOR MEASURE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+SCENE I	The city gate.
+
+
+	[MARIANA veiled, ISABELLA, and FRIAR PETER, at their
+	stand. Enter DUKE VINCENTIO, VARRIUS, Lords,
+	ANGELO, ESCALUS, LUCIO, Provost, Officers, and
+	Citizens, at several doors]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	My very worthy cousin, fairly met!
+	Our old and faithful friend, we are glad to see you.
+
+
+ANGELO	|
+	|  Happy return be to your royal grace!
+ESCALUS	|
+
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Many and hearty thankings to you both.
+	We have made inquiry of you; and we hear
+	Such goodness of your justice, that our soul
+	Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks,
+	Forerunning more requital.
+
+ANGELO	You make my bonds still greater.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	O, your desert speaks loud; and I should wrong it,
+	To lock it in the wards of covert bosom,
+	When it deserves, with characters of brass,
+	A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time
+	And razure of oblivion. Give me your hand,
+	And let the subject see, to make them know
+	That outward courtesies would fain proclaim
+	Favours that keep within. Come, Escalus,
+	You must walk by us on our other hand;
+	And good supporters are you.
+
+	[FRIAR PETER and ISABELLA come forward]
+
+FRIAR PETER	Now is your time: speak loud and kneel before him.
+
+ISABELLA	Justice, O royal duke! Vail your regard
+	Upon a wrong'd, I would fain have said, a maid!
+	O worthy prince, dishonour not your eye
+	By throwing it on any other object
+	Till you have heard me in my true complaint
+	And given me justice, justice, justice, justice!
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Relate your wrongs; in what? by whom? be brief.
+	Here is Lord Angelo shall give you justice:
+	Reveal yourself to him.
+
+ISABELLA	O worthy duke,
+	You bid me seek redemption of the devil:
+	Hear me yourself; for that which I must speak
+	Must either punish me, not being believed,
+	Or wring redress from you. Hear me, O hear me, here!
+
+ANGELO	My lord, her wits, I fear me, are not firm:
+	She hath been a suitor to me for her brother
+	Cut off by course of justice,--
+
+ISABELLA	By course of justice!
+
+ANGELO	And she will speak most bitterly and strange.
+
+ISABELLA	Most strange, but yet most truly, will I speak:
+	That Angelo's forsworn; is it not strange?
+	That Angelo's a murderer; is 't not strange?
+	That Angelo is an adulterous thief,
+	An hypocrite, a virgin-violator;
+	Is it not strange and strange?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Nay, it is ten times strange.
+
+ISABELLA	It is not truer he is Angelo
+	Than this is all as true as it is strange:
+	Nay, it is ten times true; for truth is truth
+	To the end of reckoning.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Away with her! Poor soul,
+	She speaks this in the infirmity of sense.
+
+ISABELLA	O prince, I conjure thee, as thou believest
+	There is another comfort than this world,
+	That thou neglect me not, with that opinion
+	That I am touch'd with madness! Make not impossible
+	That which but seems unlike: 'tis not impossible
+	But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground,
+	May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute
+	As Angelo; even so may Angelo,
+	In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms,
+	Be an arch-villain; believe it, royal prince:
+	If he be less, he's nothing; but he's more,
+	Had I more name for badness.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	By mine honesty,
+	If she be mad,--as I believe no other,--
+	Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense,
+	Such a dependency of thing on thing,
+	As e'er I heard in madness.
+
+ISABELLA	O gracious duke,
+	Harp not on that, nor do not banish reason
+	For inequality; but let your reason serve
+	To make the truth appear where it seems hid,
+	And hide the false seems true.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Many that are not mad
+	Have, sure, more lack of reason. What would you say?
+
+ISABELLA	I am the sister of one Claudio,
+	Condemn'd upon the act of fornication
+	To lose his head; condemn'd by Angelo:
+	I, in probation of a sisterhood,
+	Was sent to by my brother; one Lucio
+	As then the messenger,--
+
+LUCIO	That's I, an't like your grace:
+	I came to her from Claudio, and desired her
+	To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo
+	For her poor brother's pardon.
+
+ISABELLA	That's he indeed.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	You were not bid to speak.
+
+LUCIO	No, my good lord;
+	Nor wish'd to hold my peace.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I wish you now, then;
+	Pray you, take note of it: and when you have
+	A business for yourself, pray heaven you then
+	Be perfect.
+
+LUCIO	I warrant your honour.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	The warrants for yourself; take heed to't.
+
+ISABELLA	This gentleman told somewhat of my tale,--
+
+LUCIO	Right.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	It may be right; but you are i' the wrong
+	To speak before your time. Proceed.
+
+ISABELLA	I went
+	To this pernicious caitiff deputy,--
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	That's somewhat madly spoken.
+
+ISABELLA	Pardon it;
+	The phrase is to the matter.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Mended again. The matter; proceed.
+
+ISABELLA	In brief, to set the needless process by,
+	How I persuaded, how I pray'd, and kneel'd,
+	How he refell'd me, and how I replied,--
+	For this was of much length,--the vile conclusion
+	I now begin with grief and shame to utter:
+	He would not, but by gift of my chaste body
+	To his concupiscible intemperate lust,
+	Release my brother; and, after much debatement,
+	My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour,
+	And I did yield to him: but the next morn betimes,
+	His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant
+	For my poor brother's head.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	This is most likely!
+
+ISABELLA	O, that it were as like as it is true!
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	By heaven, fond wretch, thou knowist not what thou speak'st,
+	Or else thou art suborn'd against his honour
+	In hateful practise. First, his integrity
+	Stands without blemish. Next, it imports no reason
+	That with such vehemency he should pursue
+	Faults proper to himself: if he had so offended,
+	He would have weigh'd thy brother by himself
+	And not have cut him off. Some one hath set you on:
+	Confess the truth, and say by whose advice
+	Thou camest here to complain.
+
+ISABELLA	And is this all?
+	Then, O you blessed ministers above,
+	Keep me in patience, and with ripen'd time
+	Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up
+	In countenance! Heaven shield your grace from woe,
+	As I, thus wrong'd, hence unbelieved go!
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I know you'ld fain be gone. An officer!
+	To prison with her! Shall we thus permit
+	A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall
+	On him so near us? This needs must be a practise.
+	Who knew of Your intent and coming hither?
+
+ISABELLA	One that I would were here, Friar Lodowick.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	A ghostly father, belike. Who knows that Lodowick?
+
+LUCIO	My lord, I know him; 'tis a meddling friar;
+	I do not like the man: had he been lay, my lord
+	For certain words he spake against your grace
+	In your retirement, I had swinged him soundly.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Words against me? this is a good friar, belike!
+	And to set on this wretched woman here
+	Against our substitute! Let this friar be found.
+
+LUCIO	But yesternight, my lord, she and that friar,
+	I saw them at the prison: a saucy friar,
+	A very scurvy fellow.
+
+FRIAR PETER	Blessed be your royal grace!
+	I have stood by, my lord, and I have heard
+	Your royal ear abused. First, hath this woman
+	Most wrongfully accused your substitute,
+	Who is as free from touch or soil with her
+	As she from one ungot.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	We did believe no less.
+	Know you that Friar Lodowick that she speaks of?
+
+FRIAR PETER	I know him for a man divine and holy;
+	Not scurvy, nor a temporary meddler,
+	As he's reported by this gentleman;
+	And, on my trust, a man that never yet
+	Did, as he vouches, misreport your grace.
+
+LUCIO	My lord, most villanously; believe it.
+
+FRIAR PETER	Well, he in time may come to clear himself;
+	But at this instant he is sick my lord,
+	Of a strange fever. Upon his mere request,
+	Being come to knowledge that there was complaint
+	Intended 'gainst Lord Angelo, came I hither,
+	To speak, as from his mouth, what he doth know
+	Is true and false; and what he with his oath
+	And all probation will make up full clear,
+	Whensoever he's convented. First, for this woman.
+	To justify this worthy nobleman,
+	So vulgarly and personally accused,
+	Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes,
+	Till she herself confess it.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Good friar, let's hear it.
+
+	[ISABELLA is carried off guarded; and MARIANA comes forward]
+
+	Do you not smile at this, Lord Angelo?
+	O heaven, the vanity of wretched fools!
+	Give us some seats. Come, cousin Angelo;
+	In this I'll be impartial; be you judge
+	Of your own cause. Is this the witness, friar?
+	First, let her show her face, and after speak.
+
+MARIANA	Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face
+	Until my husband bid me.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	What, are you married?
+
+MARIANA	No, my lord.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Are you a maid?
+
+MARIANA	No, my lord.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	A widow, then?
+
+MARIANA	Neither, my lord.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Why, you are nothing then: neither maid, widow, nor wife?
+
+LUCIO	My lord, she may be a punk; for many of them are
+	neither maid, widow, nor wife.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Silence that fellow: I would he had some cause
+	To prattle for himself.
+
+LUCIO	Well, my lord.
+
+MARIANA	My lord; I do confess I ne'er was married;
+	And I confess besides I am no maid:
+	I have known my husband; yet my husband
+	Knows not that ever he knew me.
+
+LUCIO	He was drunk then, my lord: it can be no better.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so too!
+
+LUCIO	Well, my lord.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	This is no witness for Lord Angelo.
+
+MARIANA	Now I come to't my lord
+	She that accuses him of fornication,
+	In self-same manner doth accuse my husband,
+	And charges him my lord, with such a time
+	When I'll depose I had him in mine arms
+	With all the effect of love.
+
+ANGELO	Charges she more than me?
+
+MARIANA	Not that I know.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	No? you say your husband.
+
+MARIANA	Why, just, my lord, and that is Angelo,
+	Who thinks he knows that he ne'er knew my body,
+	But knows he thinks that he knows Isabel's.
+
+ANGELO	This is a strange abuse. Let's see thy face.
+
+MARIANA	My husband bids me; now I will unmask.
+
+	[Unveiling]
+
+	This is that face, thou cruel Angelo,
+	Which once thou sworest was worth the looking on;
+	This is the hand which, with a vow'd contract,
+	Was fast belock'd in thine; this is the body
+	That took away the match from Isabel,
+	And did supply thee at thy garden-house
+	In her imagined person.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Know you this woman?
+
+LUCIO	Carnally, she says.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Sirrah, no more!
+
+LUCIO	Enough, my lord.
+
+ANGELO	My lord, I must confess I know this woman:
+	And five years since there was some speech of marriage
+	Betwixt myself and her; which was broke off,
+	Partly for that her promised proportions
+	Came short of composition, but in chief
+	For that her reputation was disvalued
+	In levity: since which time of five years
+	I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her,
+	Upon my faith and honour.
+
+MARIANA	Noble prince,
+	As there comes light from heaven and words from breath,
+	As there is sense in truth and truth in virtue,
+	I am affianced this man's wife as strongly
+	As words could make up vows: and, my good lord,
+	But Tuesday night last gone in's garden-house
+	He knew me as a wife. As this is true,
+	Let me in safety raise me from my knees
+	Or else for ever be confixed here,
+	A marble monument!
+
+ANGELO	                  I did but smile till now:
+	Now, good my lord, give me the scope of justice
+	My patience here is touch'd. I do perceive
+	These poor informal women are no more
+	But instruments of some more mightier member
+	That sets them on: let me have way, my lord,
+	To find this practise out.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Ay, with my heart
+	And punish them to your height of pleasure.
+	Thou foolish friar, and thou pernicious woman,
+	Compact with her that's gone, think'st thou thy oaths,
+	Though they would swear down each particular saint,
+	Were testimonies against his worth and credit
+	That's seal'd in approbation? You, Lord Escalus,
+	Sit with my cousin; lend him your kind pains
+	To find out this abuse, whence 'tis derived.
+	There is another friar that set them on;
+	Let him be sent for.
+
+FRIAR PETER	Would he were here, my lord! for he indeed
+	Hath set the women on to this complaint:
+	Your provost knows the place where he abides
+	And he may fetch him.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Go do it instantly.
+
+	[Exit Provost]
+
+	And you, my noble and well-warranted cousin,
+	Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth,
+	Do with your injuries as seems you best,
+	In any chastisement: I for a while will leave you;
+	But stir not you till you have well determined
+	Upon these slanderers.
+
+ESCALUS	My lord, we'll do it throughly.
+
+	[Exit DUKE]
+
+	Signior Lucio, did not you say you knew that
+	Friar Lodowick to be a dishonest person?
+
+LUCIO	'Cucullus non facit monachum:' honest in nothing
+	but in his clothes; and one that hath spoke most
+	villanous speeches of the duke.
+
+ESCALUS	We shall entreat you to abide here till he come and
+	enforce them against him: we shall find this friar a
+	notable fellow.
+
+LUCIO	As any in Vienna, on my word.
+
+ESCALUS	Call that same Isabel here once again; I would speak with her.
+
+	[Exit an Attendant]
+
+	Pray you, my lord, give me leave to question; you
+	shall see how I'll handle her.
+
+LUCIO	Not better than he, by her own report.
+
+ESCALUS	Say you?
+
+LUCIO	Marry, sir, I think, if you handled her privately,
+	she would sooner confess: perchance, publicly,
+	she'll be ashamed.
+
+ESCALUS	I will go darkly to work with her.
+
+LUCIO	That's the way; for women are light at midnight.
+
+	[Re-enter Officers with ISABELLA; and Provost with
+	the DUKE VINCENTIO in his friar's habit]
+
+ESCALUS	Come on, mistress: here's a gentlewoman denies all
+	that you have said.
+
+LUCIO	My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of; here with
+	the provost.
+
+ESCALUS	In very good time: speak not you to him till we
+	call upon you.
+
+LUCIO	Mum.
+
+ESCALUS	Come, sir: did you set these women on to slander
+	Lord Angelo? they have confessed you did.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	'Tis false.
+
+ESCALUS	How! know you where you are?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Respect to your great place! and let the devil
+	Be sometime honour'd for his burning throne!
+	Where is the duke? 'tis he should hear me speak.
+
+ESCALUS	The duke's in us; and we will hear you speak:
+	Look you speak justly.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Boldly, at least. But, O, poor souls,
+	Come you to seek the lamb here of the fox?
+	Good night to your redress! Is the duke gone?
+	Then is your cause gone too. The duke's unjust,
+	Thus to retort your manifest appeal,
+	And put your trial in the villain's mouth
+	Which here you come to accuse.
+
+LUCIO	This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of.
+
+ESCALUS	Why, thou unreverend and unhallow'd friar,
+	Is't not enough thou hast suborn'd these women
+	To accuse this worthy man, but, in foul mouth
+	And in the witness of his proper ear,
+	To call him villain? and then to glance from him
+	To the duke himself, to tax him with injustice?
+	Take him hence; to the rack with him! We'll touse you
+	Joint by joint, but we will know his purpose.
+	What 'unjust'!
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	                  Be not so hot; the duke
+	Dare no more stretch this finger of mine than he
+	Dare rack his own: his subject am I not,
+	Nor here provincial. My business in this state
+	Made me a looker on here in Vienna,
+	Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble
+	Till it o'er-run the stew; laws for all faults,
+	But faults so countenanced, that the strong statutes
+	Stand like the forfeits in a barber's shop,
+	As much in mock as mark.
+
+ESCALUS	Slander to the state! Away with him to prison!
+
+ANGELO	What can you vouch against him, Signior Lucio?
+	Is this the man that you did tell us of?
+
+LUCIO	'Tis he, my lord. Come hither, goodman baldpate:
+	do you know me?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I remember you, sir, by the sound of your voice: I
+	met you at the prison, in the absence of the duke.
+
+LUCIO	O, did you so? And do you remember what you said of the duke?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Most notedly, sir.
+
+LUCIO	Do you so, sir? And was the duke a fleshmonger, a
+	fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	You must, sir, change persons with me, ere you make
+	that my report: you, indeed, spoke so of him; and
+	much more, much worse.
+
+LUCIO	O thou damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by the
+	nose for thy speeches?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I protest I love the duke as I love myself.
+
+ANGELO	Hark, how the villain would close now, after his
+	treasonable abuses!
+
+ESCALUS	Such a fellow is not to be talked withal. Away with
+	him to prison! Where is the provost? Away with him
+	to prison! lay bolts enough upon him: let him
+	speak no more. Away with those giglots too, and
+	with the other confederate companion!
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	[To Provost]  Stay, sir; stay awhile.
+
+ANGELO	What, resists he? Help him, Lucio.
+
+LUCIO	Come, sir; come, sir; come, sir; foh, sir! Why, you
+	bald-pated, lying rascal, you must be hooded, must
+	you? Show your knave's visage, with a pox to you!
+	show your sheep-biting face, and be hanged an hour!
+	Will't not off?
+
+	[Pulls off the friar's hood, and discovers DUKE
+	VINCENTIO]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Thou art the first knave that e'er madest a duke.
+	First, provost, let me bail these gentle three.
+
+	[To LUCIO]
+
+	Sneak not away, sir; for the friar and you
+	Must have a word anon. Lay hold on him.
+
+LUCIO	This may prove worse than hanging.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	[To ESCALUS]  What you have spoke I pardon: sit you down:
+	We'll borrow place of him.
+
+	[To ANGELO]
+
+		     Sir, by your leave.
+	Hast thou or word, or wit, or impudence,
+	That yet can do thee office? If thou hast,
+	Rely upon it till my tale be heard,
+	And hold no longer out.
+
+ANGELO	O my dread lord,
+	I should be guiltier than my guiltiness,
+	To think I can be undiscernible,
+	When I perceive your grace, like power divine,
+	Hath look'd upon my passes. Then, good prince,
+	No longer session hold upon my shame,
+	But let my trial be mine own confession:
+	Immediate sentence then and sequent death
+	Is all the grace I beg.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Come hither, Mariana.
+	Say, wast thou e'er contracted to this woman?
+
+ANGELO	I was, my lord.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Go take her hence, and marry her instantly.
+	Do you the office, friar; which consummate,
+	Return him here again. Go with him, provost.
+
+	[Exeunt ANGELO, MARIANA, FRIAR PETER and Provost]
+
+ESCALUS	My lord, I am more amazed at his dishonour
+	Than at the strangeness of it.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Come hither, Isabel.
+	Your friar is now your prince: as I was then
+	Advertising and holy to your business,
+	Not changing heart with habit, I am still
+	Attorney'd at your service.
+
+ISABELLA	O, give me pardon,
+	That I, your vassal, have employ'd and pain'd
+	Your unknown sovereignty!
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	You are pardon'd, Isabel:
+	And now, dear maid, be you as free to us.
+	Your brother's death, I know, sits at your heart;
+	And you may marvel why I obscured myself,
+	Labouring to save his life, and would not rather
+	Make rash remonstrance of my hidden power
+	Than let him so be lost. O most kind maid,
+	It was the swift celerity of his death,
+	Which I did think with slower foot came on,
+	That brain'd my purpose. But, peace be with him!
+	That life is better life, past fearing death,
+	Than that which lives to fear: make it your comfort,
+	So happy is your brother.
+
+ISABELLA	I do, my lord.
+
+	[Re-enter ANGELO, MARIANA, FRIAR PETER, and Provost]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	For this new-married man approaching here,
+	Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd
+	Your well defended honour, you must pardon
+	For Mariana's sake: but as he adjudged your brother,--
+	Being criminal, in double violation
+	Of sacred chastity and of promise-breach
+	Thereon dependent, for your brother's life,--
+	The very mercy of the law cries out
+	Most audible, even from his proper tongue,
+	'An Angelo for Claudio, death for death!'
+	Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure;
+	Like doth quit like, and MEASURE still FOR MEASURE.
+	Then, Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested;
+	Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee vantage.
+	We do condemn thee to the very block
+	Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste.
+	Away with him!
+
+MARIANA	                  O my most gracious lord,
+	I hope you will not mock me with a husband.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	It is your husband mock'd you with a husband.
+	Consenting to the safeguard of your honour,
+	I thought your marriage fit; else imputation,
+	For that he knew you, might reproach your life
+	And choke your good to come; for his possessions,
+	Although by confiscation they are ours,
+	We do instate and widow you withal,
+	To buy you a better husband.
+
+MARIANA	O my dear lord,
+	I crave no other, nor no better man.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Never crave him; we are definitive.
+
+MARIANA	Gentle my liege,--
+
+	[Kneeling]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	                  You do but lose your labour.
+	Away with him to death!
+
+	[To LUCIO]
+
+		  Now, sir, to you.
+
+MARIANA	O my good lord! Sweet Isabel, take my part;
+	Lend me your knees, and all my life to come
+	I'll lend you all my life to do you service.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Against all sense you do importune her:
+	Should she kneel down in mercy of this fact,
+	Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break,
+	And take her hence in horror.
+
+MARIANA	Isabel,
+	Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me;
+	Hold up your hands, say nothing; I'll speak all.
+	They say, best men are moulded out of faults;
+	And, for the most, become much more the better
+	For being a little bad: so may my husband.
+	O Isabel, will you not lend a knee?
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	He dies for Claudio's death.
+
+ISABELLA	Most bounteous sir,
+
+	[Kneeling]
+
+	Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd,
+	As if my brother lived: I partly think
+	A due sincerity govern'd his deeds,
+	Till he did look on me: since it is so,
+	Let him not die. My brother had but justice,
+	In that he did the thing for which he died:
+	For Angelo,
+	His act did not o'ertake his bad intent,
+	And must be buried but as an intent
+	That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subjects;
+	Intents but merely thoughts.
+
+MARIANA	Merely, my lord.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Your suit's unprofitable; stand up, I say.
+	I have bethought me of another fault.
+	Provost, how came it Claudio was beheaded
+	At an unusual hour?
+
+Provost	It was commanded so.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Had you a special warrant for the deed?
+
+Provost	No, my good lord; it was by private message.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	For which I do discharge you of your office:
+	Give up your keys.
+
+Provost	                  Pardon me, noble lord:
+	I thought it was a fault, but knew it not;
+	Yet did repent me, after more advice;
+	For testimony whereof, one in the prison,
+	That should by private order else have died,
+	I have reserved alive.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	What's he?
+
+Provost	His name is Barnardine.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	I would thou hadst done so by Claudio.
+	Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him.
+
+	[Exit Provost]
+
+ESCALUS	I am sorry, one so learned and so wise
+	As you, Lord Angelo, have still appear'd,
+	Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood.
+	And lack of temper'd judgment afterward.
+
+ANGELO	I am sorry that such sorrow I procure:
+	And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart
+	That I crave death more willingly than mercy;
+	'Tis my deserving, and I do entreat it.
+
+	[Re-enter Provost, with BARNARDINE, CLAUDIO muffled,
+	and JULIET]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Which is that Barnardine?
+
+Provost	This, my lord.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	There was a friar told me of this man.
+	Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul.
+	That apprehends no further than this world,
+	And squarest thy life according. Thou'rt condemn'd:
+	But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all;
+	And pray thee take this mercy to provide
+	For better times to come. Friar, advise him;
+	I leave him to your hand. What muffled fellow's that?
+
+Provost	This is another prisoner that I saved.
+	Who should have died when Claudio lost his head;
+	As like almost to Claudio as himself.
+
+	[Unmuffles CLAUDIO]
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	[To ISABELLA]  If he be like your brother, for his sake
+	Is he pardon'd; and, for your lovely sake,
+	Give me your hand and say you will be mine.
+	He is my brother too: but fitter time for that.
+	By this Lord Angelo perceives he's safe;
+	Methinks I see a quickening in his eye.
+	Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well:
+	Look that you love your wife; her worth worth yours.
+	I find an apt remission in myself;
+	And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon.
+
+	[To LUCIO]
+
+	You, sirrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward,
+	One all of luxury, an ass, a madman;
+	Wherein have I so deserved of you,
+	That you extol me thus?
+
+LUCIO	'Faith, my lord. I spoke it but according to the
+	trick. If you will hang me for it, you may; but I
+	had rather it would please you I might be whipt.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Whipt first, sir, and hanged after.
+	Proclaim it, provost, round about the city.
+	Is any woman wrong'd by this lewd fellow,
+	As I have heard him swear himself there's one
+	Whom he begot with child, let her appear,
+	And he shall marry her: the nuptial finish'd,
+	Let him be whipt and hang'd.
+
+LUCIO	I beseech your highness, do not marry me to a whore.
+	Your highness said even now, I made you a duke:
+	good my lord, do not recompense me in making me a cuckold.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her.
+	Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal
+	Remit thy other forfeits. Take him to prison;
+	And see our pleasure herein executed.
+
+LUCIO	Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death,
+	whipping, and hanging.
+
+DUKE VINCENTIO	Slandering a prince deserves it.
+
+	[Exit Officers with LUCIO]
+
+	She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore.
+	Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo:
+	I have confess'd her and I know her virtue.
+	Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness:
+	There's more behind that is more gratulate.
+	Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy:
+	We shill employ thee in a worthier place.
+	Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home
+	The head of Ragozine for Claudio's:
+	The offence pardons itself. Dear Isabel,
+	I have a motion much imports your good;
+	Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline,
+	What's mine is yours and what is yours is mine.
+	So, bring us to our palace; where we'll show
+	What's yet behind, that's meet you all should know.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+The DUKE OF VENICE. (DUKE:)
+
+
+The PRINCE OF		|
+MOROCCO	(MOROCCO:)	|
+		|  suitors to Portia.
+The PRINCE OF		|
+ARRAGON	(ARRAGON:)	|
+
+
+ANTONIO	a merchant of Venice.
+
+BASSANIO	his friend, suitor likewise to Portia.
+
+
+SALANIO	|
+	|
+SALARINO	|
+	|  friends to Antonio and Bassanio.
+GRATIANO	|
+	|
+SALERIO	|
+
+
+LORENZO	in love with Jessica.
+
+SHYLOCK	a rich Jew.
+
+TUBAL	a Jew, his friend.
+
+LAUNCELOT GOBBO	the clown, servant to SHYLOCK. (LAUNCELOT:)
+
+OLD GOBBO	father to Launcelot. (GOBBO:)
+
+LEONARDO	servant to BASSANIO.
+
+
+BALTHASAR	|
+	|  servants to PORTIA.
+STEPHANO	|
+
+
+PORTIA	a rich heiress.
+
+NERISSA	her waiting-maid.
+
+JESSICA	daughter to SHYLOCK.
+
+	Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice,
+	Gaoler, Servants to Portia, and other Attendants.
+	(Servant:)
+	(Clerk:)
+
+SCENE	Partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont,
+	the seat of PORTIA, on the Continent.
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Venice. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO]
+
+ANTONIO	In sooth, I know not why I am so sad:
+	It wearies me; you say it wearies you;
+	But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
+	What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
+	I am to learn;
+	And such a want-wit sadness makes of me,
+	That I have much ado to know myself.
+
+SALARINO	Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
+	There, where your argosies with portly sail,
+	Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,
+	Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea,
+	Do overpeer the petty traffickers,
+	That curtsy to them, do them reverence,
+	As they fly by them with their woven wings.
+
+SALANIO	Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
+	The better part of my affections would
+	Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
+	Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind,
+	Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads;
+	And every object that might make me fear
+	Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt
+	Would make me sad.
+
+SALARINO	                  My wind cooling my broth
+	Would blow me to an ague, when I thought
+	What harm a wind too great at sea might do.
+	I should not see the sandy hour-glass run,
+	But I should think of shallows and of flats,
+	And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand,
+	Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs
+	To kiss her burial. Should I go to church
+	And see the holy edifice of stone,
+	And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks,
+	Which touching but my gentle vessel's side,
+	Would scatter all her spices on the stream,
+	Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks,
+	And, in a word, but even now worth this,
+	And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought
+	To think on this, and shall I lack the thought
+	That such a thing bechanced would make me sad?
+	But tell not me; I know, Antonio
+	Is sad to think upon his merchandise.
+
+ANTONIO	Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it,
+	My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,
+	Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
+	Upon the fortune of this present year:
+	Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad.
+
+SALARINO	Why, then you are in love.
+
+ANTONIO	Fie, fie!
+
+SALARINO	Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad,
+	Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy
+	For you to laugh and leap and say you are merry,
+	Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus,
+	Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time:
+	Some that will evermore peep through their eyes
+	And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper,
+	And other of such vinegar aspect
+	That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile,
+	Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
+
+	[Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO]
+
+SALANIO	Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman,
+	Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well:
+	We leave you now with better company.
+
+SALARINO	I would have stay'd till I had made you merry,
+	If worthier friends had not prevented me.
+
+ANTONIO	Your worth is very dear in my regard.
+	I take it, your own business calls on you
+	And you embrace the occasion to depart.
+
+SALARINO	Good morrow, my good lords.
+
+BASSANIO	Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? say, when?
+	You grow exceeding strange: must it be so?
+
+SALARINO	We'll make our leisures to attend on yours.
+
+	[Exeunt Salarino and Salanio]
+
+LORENZO	My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,
+	We two will leave you: but at dinner-time,
+	I pray you, have in mind where we must meet.
+
+BASSANIO	I will not fail you.
+
+GRATIANO	You look not well, Signior Antonio;
+	You have too much respect upon the world:
+	They lose it that do buy it with much care:
+	Believe me, you are marvellously changed.
+
+ANTONIO	I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano;
+	A stage where every man must play a part,
+	And mine a sad one.
+
+GRATIANO	Let me play the fool:
+	With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come,
+	And let my liver rather heat with wine
+	Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
+	Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
+	Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
+	Sleep when he wakes and creep into the jaundice
+	By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio--
+	I love thee, and it is my love that speaks--
+	There are a sort of men whose visages
+	Do cream and mantle like a standing pond,
+	And do a wilful stillness entertain,
+	With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion
+	Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit,
+	As who should say 'I am Sir Oracle,
+	And when I ope my lips let no dog bark!'
+	O my Antonio, I do know of these
+	That therefore only are reputed wise
+	For saying nothing; when, I am very sure,
+	If they should speak, would almost damn those ears,
+	Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools.
+	I'll tell thee more of this another time:
+	But fish not, with this melancholy bait,
+	For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.
+	Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile:
+	I'll end my exhortation after dinner.
+
+LORENZO	Well, we will leave you then till dinner-time:
+	I must be one of these same dumb wise men,
+	For Gratiano never lets me speak.
+
+GRATIANO	Well, keep me company but two years moe,
+	Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.
+
+ANTONIO	Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear.
+
+GRATIANO	Thanks, i' faith, for silence is only commendable
+	In a neat's tongue dried and a maid not vendible.
+
+	[Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO]
+
+ANTONIO	Is that any thing now?
+
+BASSANIO	Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more
+	than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two
+	grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you
+	shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you
+	have them, they are not worth the search.
+
+ANTONIO	Well, tell me now what lady is the same
+	To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,
+	That you to-day promised to tell me of?
+
+BASSANIO	'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
+	How much I have disabled mine estate,
+	By something showing a more swelling port
+	Than my faint means would grant continuance:
+	Nor do I now make moan to be abridged
+	From such a noble rate; but my chief care
+	Is to come fairly off from the great debts
+	Wherein my time something too prodigal
+	Hath left me gaged. To you, Antonio,
+	I owe the most, in money and in love,
+	And from your love I have a warranty
+	To unburden all my plots and purposes
+	How to get clear of all the debts I owe.
+
+ANTONIO	I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it;
+	And if it stand, as you yourself still do,
+	Within the eye of honour, be assured,
+	My purse, my person, my extremest means,
+	Lie all unlock'd to your occasions.
+
+BASSANIO	In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft,
+	I shot his fellow of the self-same flight
+	The self-same way with more advised watch,
+	To find the other forth, and by adventuring both
+	I oft found both: I urge this childhood proof,
+	Because what follows is pure innocence.
+	I owe you much, and, like a wilful youth,
+	That which I owe is lost; but if you please
+	To shoot another arrow that self way
+	Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
+	As I will watch the aim, or to find both
+	Or bring your latter hazard back again
+	And thankfully rest debtor for the first.
+
+ANTONIO	You know me well, and herein spend but time
+	To wind about my love with circumstance;
+	And out of doubt you do me now more wrong
+	In making question of my uttermost
+	Than if you had made waste of all I have:
+	Then do but say to me what I should do
+	That in your knowledge may by me be done,
+	And I am prest unto it: therefore, speak.
+
+BASSANIO	In Belmont is a lady richly left;
+	And she is fair, and, fairer than that word,
+	Of wondrous virtues: sometimes from her eyes
+	I did receive fair speechless messages:
+	Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued
+	To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia:
+	Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,
+	For the four winds blow in from every coast
+	Renowned suitors, and her sunny locks
+	Hang on her temples like a golden fleece;
+	Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strand,
+	And many Jasons come in quest of her.
+	O my Antonio, had I but the means
+	To hold a rival place with one of them,
+	I have a mind presages me such thrift,
+	That I should questionless be fortunate!
+
+ANTONIO	Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea;
+	Neither have I money nor commodity
+	To raise a present sum: therefore go forth;
+	Try what my credit can in Venice do:
+	That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost,
+	To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia.
+	Go, presently inquire, and so will I,
+	Where money is, and I no question make
+	To have it of my trust or for my sake.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II: Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter PORTIA and NERISSA]
+
+PORTIA	By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of
+	this great world.
+
+NERISSA	You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in
+	the same abundance as your good fortunes are: and
+	yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit
+	with too much as they that starve with nothing. It
+	is no mean happiness therefore, to be seated in the
+	mean: superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but
+	competency lives longer.
+
+PORTIA	Good sentences and well pronounced.
+
+NERISSA	They would be better, if well followed.
+
+PORTIA	If to do were as easy as to know what were good to
+	do, chapels had been churches and poor men's
+	cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that
+	follows his own instructions: I can easier teach
+	twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the
+	twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may
+	devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps
+	o'er a cold decree: such a hare is madness the
+	youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the
+	cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to
+	choose me a husband. O me, the word 'choose!' I may
+	neither choose whom I would nor refuse whom I
+	dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curbed
+	by the will of a dead father. Is it not hard,
+	Nerissa, that I cannot choose one nor refuse none?
+
+NERISSA	Your father was ever virtuous; and holy men at their
+	death have good inspirations: therefore the lottery,
+	that he hath devised in these three chests of gold,
+	silver and lead, whereof who chooses his meaning
+	chooses you, will, no doubt, never be chosen by any
+	rightly but one who shall rightly love. But what
+	warmth is there in your affection towards any of
+	these princely suitors that are already come?
+
+PORTIA	I pray thee, over-name them; and as thou namest
+	them, I will describe them; and, according to my
+	description, level at my affection.
+
+NERISSA	First, there is the Neapolitan prince.
+
+PORTIA	Ay, that's a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but
+	talk of his horse; and he makes it a great
+	appropriation to his own good parts, that he can
+	shoe him himself. I am much afeard my lady his
+	mother played false with a smith.
+
+NERISSA	Then there is the County Palatine.
+
+PORTIA	He doth nothing but frown, as who should say 'If you
+	will not have me, choose:' he hears merry tales and
+	smiles not: I fear he will prove the weeping
+	philosopher when he grows old, being so full of
+	unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather be
+	married to a death's-head with a bone in his mouth
+	than to either of these. God defend me from these
+	two!
+
+NERISSA	How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon?
+
+PORTIA	God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man.
+	In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker: but,
+	he! why, he hath a horse better than the
+	Neapolitan's, a better bad habit of frowning than
+	the Count Palatine; he is every man in no man; if a
+	throstle sing, he falls straight a capering: he will
+	fence with his own shadow: if I should marry him, I
+	should marry twenty husbands. If he would despise me
+	I would forgive him, for if he love me to madness, I
+	shall never requite him.
+
+NERISSA	What say you, then, to Falconbridge, the young baron
+	of England?
+
+PORTIA	You know I say nothing to him, for he understands
+	not me, nor I him: he hath neither Latin, French,
+	nor Italian, and you will come into the court and
+	swear that I have a poor pennyworth in the English.
+	He is a proper man's picture, but, alas, who can
+	converse with a dumb-show? How oddly he is suited!
+	I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his round
+	hose in France, his bonnet in Germany and his
+	behavior every where.
+
+NERISSA	What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbour?
+
+PORTIA	That he hath a neighbourly charity in him, for he
+	borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman and
+	swore he would pay him again when he was able: I
+	think the Frenchman became his surety and sealed
+	under for another.
+
+NERISSA	How like you the young German, the Duke of Saxony's nephew?
+
+PORTIA	Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober, and
+	most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk: when
+	he is best, he is a little worse than a man, and
+	when he is worst, he is little better than a beast:
+	and the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I shall
+	make shift to go without him.
+
+NERISSA	If he should offer to choose, and choose the right
+	casket, you should refuse to perform your father's
+	will, if you should refuse to accept him.
+
+PORTIA	Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee, set a
+	deep glass of rhenish wine on the contrary casket,
+	for if the devil be within and that temptation
+	without, I know he will choose it. I will do any
+	thing, Nerissa, ere I'll be married to a sponge.
+
+NERISSA	You need not fear, lady, the having any of these
+	lords: they have acquainted me with their
+	determinations; which is, indeed, to return to their
+	home and to trouble you with no more suit, unless
+	you may be won by some other sort than your father's
+	imposition depending on the caskets.
+
+PORTIA	If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as
+	chaste as Diana, unless I be obtained by the manner
+	of my father's will. I am glad this parcel of wooers
+	are so reasonable, for there is not one among them
+	but I dote on his very absence, and I pray God grant
+	them a fair departure.
+
+NERISSA	Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, a
+	Venetian, a scholar and a soldier, that came hither
+	in company of the Marquis of Montferrat?
+
+PORTIA	Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, he was so called.
+
+NERISSA	True, madam: he, of all the men that ever my foolish
+	eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a fair lady.
+
+PORTIA	I remember him well, and I remember him worthy of
+	thy praise.
+
+	[Enter a Serving-man]
+
+	How now! what news?
+
+Servant	The four strangers seek for you, madam, to take
+	their leave: and there is a forerunner come from a
+	fifth, the Prince of Morocco, who brings word the
+	prince his master will be here to-night.
+
+PORTIA	If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good a
+	heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I should
+	be glad of his approach: if he have the condition
+	of a saint and the complexion of a devil, I had
+	rather he should shrive me than wive me. Come,
+	Nerissa. Sirrah, go before.
+	Whiles we shut the gates
+	upon one wooer, another knocks at the door.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Venice. A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter BASSANIO and SHYLOCK]
+
+SHYLOCK	Three thousand ducats; well.
+
+BASSANIO	Ay, sir, for three months.
+
+SHYLOCK	For three months; well.
+
+BASSANIO	For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound.
+
+SHYLOCK	Antonio shall become bound; well.
+
+BASSANIO	May you stead me? will you pleasure me? shall I
+	know your answer?
+
+SHYLOCK	Three thousand ducats for three months and Antonio bound.
+
+BASSANIO	Your answer to that.
+
+SHYLOCK	Antonio is a good man.
+
+BASSANIO	Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?
+
+SHYLOCK	Oh, no, no, no, no: my meaning in saying he is a
+	good man is to have you understand me that he is
+	sufficient. Yet his means are in supposition: he
+	hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the
+	Indies; I understand moreover, upon the Rialto, he
+	hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England, and
+	other ventures he hath, squandered abroad. But ships
+	are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats
+	and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves, I
+	mean pirates, and then there is the peril of waters,
+	winds and rocks. The man is, notwithstanding,
+	sufficient. Three thousand ducats; I think I may
+	take his bond.
+
+BASSANIO	Be assured you may.
+
+SHYLOCK	I will be assured I may; and, that I may be assured,
+	I will bethink me. May I speak with Antonio?
+
+BASSANIO	If it please you to dine with us.
+
+SHYLOCK	Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habitation which
+	your prophet the Nazarite conjured the devil into. I
+	will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you,
+	walk with you, and so following, but I will not eat
+	with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What
+	news on the Rialto? Who is he comes here?
+
+	[Enter ANTONIO]
+
+BASSANIO	This is Signior Antonio.
+
+SHYLOCK	[Aside]  How like a fawning publican he looks!
+	I hate him for he is a Christian,
+	But more for that in low simplicity
+	He lends out money gratis and brings down
+	The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
+	If I can catch him once upon the hip,
+	I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
+	He hates our sacred nation, and he rails,
+	Even there where merchants most do congregate,
+	On me, my bargains and my well-won thrift,
+	Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe,
+	If I forgive him!
+
+BASSANIO	                  Shylock, do you hear?
+
+SHYLOCK	I am debating of my present store,
+	And, by the near guess of my memory,
+	I cannot instantly raise up the gross
+	Of full three thousand ducats. What of that?
+	Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,
+	Will furnish me. But soft! how many months
+	Do you desire?
+
+	[To ANTONIO]
+
+	Rest you fair, good signior;
+	Your worship was the last man in our mouths.
+
+ANTONIO	Shylock, although I neither lend nor borrow
+	By taking nor by giving of excess,
+	Yet, to supply the ripe wants of my friend,
+	I'll break a custom. Is he yet possess'd
+	How much ye would?
+
+SHYLOCK	                  Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.
+
+ANTONIO	And for three months.
+
+SHYLOCK	I had forgot; three months; you told me so.
+	Well then, your bond; and let me see; but hear you;
+	Methought you said you neither lend nor borrow
+	Upon advantage.
+
+ANTONIO	                  I do never use it.
+
+SHYLOCK	When Jacob grazed his uncle Laban's sheep--
+	This Jacob from our holy Abram was,
+	As his wise mother wrought in his behalf,
+	The third possessor; ay, he was the third--
+
+ANTONIO	And what of him? did he take interest?
+
+SHYLOCK	No, not take interest, not, as you would say,
+	Directly interest: mark what Jacob did.
+	When Laban and himself were compromised
+	That all the eanlings which were streak'd and pied
+	Should fall as Jacob's hire, the ewes, being rank,
+	In the end of autumn turned to the rams,
+	And, when the work of generation was
+	Between these woolly breeders in the act,
+	The skilful shepherd peel'd me certain wands,
+	And, in the doing of the deed of kind,
+	He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes,
+	Who then conceiving did in eaning time
+	Fall parti-colour'd lambs, and those were Jacob's.
+	This was a way to thrive, and he was blest:
+	And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.
+
+ANTONIO	This was a venture, sir, that Jacob served for;
+	A thing not in his power to bring to pass,
+	But sway'd and fashion'd by the hand of heaven.
+	Was this inserted to make interest good?
+	Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams?
+
+SHYLOCK	I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast:
+	But note me, signior.
+
+ANTONIO	Mark you this, Bassanio,
+	The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
+	An evil soul producing holy witness
+	Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,
+	A goodly apple rotten at the heart:
+	O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
+
+SHYLOCK	Three thousand ducats; 'tis a good round sum.
+	Three months from twelve; then, let me see; the rate--
+
+ANTONIO	Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you?
+
+SHYLOCK	Signior Antonio, many a time and oft
+	In the Rialto you have rated me
+	About my moneys and my usances:
+	Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,
+	For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
+	You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
+	And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
+	And all for use of that which is mine own.
+	Well then, it now appears you need my help:
+	Go to, then; you come to me, and you say
+	'Shylock, we would have moneys:' you say so;
+	You, that did void your rheum upon my beard
+	And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur
+	Over your threshold: moneys is your suit
+	What should I say to you? Should I not say
+	'Hath a dog money? is it possible
+	A cur can lend three thousand ducats?' Or
+	Shall I bend low and in a bondman's key,
+	With bated breath and whispering humbleness, Say this;
+	'Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
+	You spurn'd me such a day; another time
+	You call'd me dog; and for these courtesies
+	I'll lend you thus much moneys'?
+
+ANTONIO	I am as like to call thee so again,
+	To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.
+	If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
+	As to thy friends; for when did friendship take
+	A breed for barren metal of his friend?
+	But lend it rather to thine enemy,
+	Who, if he break, thou mayst with better face
+	Exact the penalty.
+
+SHYLOCK	                  Why, look you, how you storm!
+	I would be friends with you and have your love,
+	Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with,
+	Supply your present wants and take no doit
+	Of usance for my moneys, and you'll not hear me:
+	This is kind I offer.
+
+
+BASSANIO	This were kindness.
+
+SHYLOCK	This kindness will I show.
+	Go with me to a notary, seal me there
+	Your single bond; and, in a merry sport,
+	If you repay me not on such a day,
+	In such a place, such sum or sums as are
+	Express'd in the condition, let the forfeit
+	Be nominated for an equal pound
+	Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
+	In what part of your body pleaseth me.
+
+ANTONIO	Content, i' faith: I'll seal to such a bond
+	And say there is much kindness in the Jew.
+
+BASSANIO	You shall not seal to such a bond for me:
+	I'll rather dwell in my necessity.
+
+ANTONIO	Why, fear not, man; I will not forfeit it:
+	Within these two months, that's a month before
+	This bond expires, I do expect return
+	Of thrice three times the value of this bond.
+
+SHYLOCK	O father Abram, what these Christians are,
+	Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
+	The thoughts of others! Pray you, tell me this;
+	If he should break his day, what should I gain
+	By the exaction of the forfeiture?
+	A pound of man's flesh taken from a man
+	Is not so estimable, profitable neither,
+	As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say,
+	To buy his favour, I extend this friendship:
+	If he will take it, so; if not, adieu;
+	And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not.
+
+ANTONIO	Yes Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.
+
+SHYLOCK	Then meet me forthwith at the notary's;
+	Give him direction for this merry bond,
+	And I will go and purse the ducats straight,
+	See to my house, left in the fearful guard
+	Of an unthrifty knave, and presently
+	I will be with you.
+
+ANTONIO	Hie thee, gentle Jew.
+
+	[Exit Shylock]
+
+	The Hebrew will turn Christian: he grows kind.
+
+BASSANIO	I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.
+
+ANTONIO	Come on: in this there can be no dismay;
+	My ships come home a month before the day.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.
+
+
+	[Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF MOROCCO
+	and his train; PORTIA, NERISSA, and others
+	attending]
+
+MOROCCO	Mislike me not for my complexion,
+	The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun,
+	To whom I am a neighbour and near bred.
+	Bring me the fairest creature northward born,
+	Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles,
+	And let us make incision for your love,
+	To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine.
+	I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine
+	Hath fear'd the valiant: by my love I swear
+	The best-regarded virgins of our clime
+	Have loved it too: I would not change this hue,
+	Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
+
+PORTIA	In terms of choice I am not solely led
+	By nice direction of a maiden's eyes;
+	Besides, the lottery of my destiny
+	Bars me the right of voluntary choosing:
+	But if my father had not scanted me
+	And hedged me by his wit, to yield myself
+	His wife who wins me by that means I told you,
+	Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair
+	As any comer I have look'd on yet
+	For my affection.
+
+MOROCCO	                  Even for that I thank you:
+	Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets
+	To try my fortune. By this scimitar
+	That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince
+	That won three fields of Sultan Solyman,
+	I would outstare the sternest eyes that look,
+	Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth,
+	Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,
+	Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey,
+	To win thee, lady. But, alas the while!
+	If Hercules and Lichas play at dice
+	Which is the better man, the greater throw
+	May turn by fortune from the weaker hand:
+	So is Alcides beaten by his page;
+	And so may I, blind fortune leading me,
+	Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
+	And die with grieving.
+
+PORTIA	You must take your chance,
+	And either not attempt to choose at all
+	Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong
+	Never to speak to lady afterward
+	In way of marriage: therefore be advised.
+
+MOROCCO	Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my chance.
+
+PORTIA	First, forward to the temple: after dinner
+	Your hazard shall be made.
+
+MOROCCO	Good fortune then!
+	To make me blest or cursed'st among men.
+
+	[Cornets, and exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Venice. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter LAUNCELOT]
+
+LAUNCELOT	Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from
+	this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow and
+	tempts me saying to me 'Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good
+	Launcelot,' or 'good Gobbo,' or good Launcelot
+	Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away. My
+	conscience says 'No; take heed,' honest Launcelot;
+	take heed, honest Gobbo, or, as aforesaid, 'honest
+	Launcelot Gobbo; do not run; scorn running with thy
+	heels.' Well, the most courageous fiend bids me
+	pack: 'Via!' says the fiend; 'away!' says the
+	fiend; 'for the heavens, rouse up a brave mind,'
+	says the fiend, 'and run.' Well, my conscience,
+	hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely
+	to me 'My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest
+	man's son,' or rather an honest woman's son; for,
+	indeed, my father did something smack, something
+	grow to, he had a kind of taste; well, my conscience
+	says 'Launcelot, budge not.' 'Budge,' says the
+	fiend. 'Budge not,' says my conscience.
+	'Conscience,' say I, 'you counsel well;' ' Fiend,'
+	say I, 'you counsel well:' to be ruled by my
+	conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master,
+	who, God bless the mark, is a kind of devil; and, to
+	run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the
+	fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the devil
+	himself. Certainly the Jew is the very devil
+	incarnal; and, in my conscience, my conscience is
+	but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel
+	me to stay with the Jew. The fiend gives the more
+	friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my heels are
+	at your command; I will run.
+
+	[Enter Old GOBBO, with a basket]
+
+GOBBO	Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way
+	to master Jew's?
+
+LAUNCELOT	[Aside]  O heavens, this is my true-begotten father!
+	who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind,
+	knows me not: I will try confusions with him.
+
+GOBBO	Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way
+	to master Jew's?
+
+LAUNCELOT	Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, but,
+	at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at
+	the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn
+	down indirectly to the Jew's house.
+
+GOBBO	By God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. Can
+	you tell me whether one Launcelot,
+	that dwells with him, dwell with him or no?
+
+LAUNCELOT	Talk you of young Master Launcelot?
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	Mark me now; now will I raise the waters. Talk you
+	of young Master Launcelot?
+
+GOBBO	No master, sir, but a poor man's son: his father,
+	though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man
+	and, God be thanked, well to live.
+
+LAUNCELOT	Well, let his father be what a' will, we talk of
+	young Master Launcelot.
+
+GOBBO	Your worship's friend and Launcelot, sir.
+
+LAUNCELOT	But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you,
+	talk you of young Master Launcelot?
+
+GOBBO	Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership.
+
+LAUNCELOT	Ergo, Master Launcelot. Talk not of Master
+	Launcelot, father; for the young gentleman,
+	according to Fates and Destinies and such odd
+	sayings, the Sisters Three and such branches of
+	learning, is indeed deceased, or, as you would say
+	in plain terms, gone to heaven.
+
+GOBBO	Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very staff of my
+	age, my very prop.
+
+LAUNCELOT	Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff or
+	a prop? Do you know me, father?
+
+GOBBO	Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman:
+	but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy, God rest his
+	soul, alive or dead?
+
+LAUNCELOT	Do you not know me, father?
+
+GOBBO	Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I know you not.
+
+LAUNCELOT	Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of
+	the knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his
+	own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of
+	your son: give me your blessing: truth will come
+	to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man's son
+	may, but at the length truth will out.
+
+GOBBO	Pray you, sir, stand up: I am sure you are not
+	Launcelot, my boy.
+
+LAUNCELOT	Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, but
+	give me your blessing: I am Launcelot, your boy
+	that was, your son that is, your child that shall
+	be.
+
+GOBBO	I cannot think you are my son.
+
+LAUNCELOT	I know not what I shall think of that: but I am
+	Launcelot, the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery your
+	wife is my mother.
+
+GOBBO	Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn, if thou
+	be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood.
+	Lord worshipped might he be! what a beard hast thou
+	got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin than
+	Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail.
+
+LAUNCELOT	It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows
+	backward: I am sure he had more hair of his tail
+	than I have of my face when I last saw him.
+
+GOBBO	Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy
+	master agree? I have brought him a present. How
+	'gree you now?
+
+LAUNCELOT	Well, well: but, for mine own part, as I have set
+	up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I
+	have run some ground. My master's a very Jew: give
+	him a present! give him a halter: I am famished in
+	his service; you may tell every finger I have with
+	my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come: give me
+	your present to one Master Bassanio, who, indeed,
+	gives rare new liveries: if I serve not him, I
+	will run as far as God has any ground. O rare
+	fortune! here comes the man: to him, father; for I
+	am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer.
+
+	[Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO and other followers]
+
+BASSANIO	You may do so; but let it be so hasted that supper
+	be ready at the farthest by five of the clock. See
+	these letters delivered; put the liveries to making,
+	and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.
+
+	[Exit a Servant]
+
+LAUNCELOT	To him, father.
+
+GOBBO	God bless your worship!
+
+BASSANIO	Gramercy! wouldst thou aught with me?
+
+GOBBO	Here's my son, sir, a poor boy,--
+
+LAUNCELOT	Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man; that
+	would, sir, as my father shall specify--
+
+GOBBO	He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve--
+
+LAUNCELOT	Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew,
+	and have a desire, as my father shall specify--
+
+GOBBO	His master and he, saving your worship's reverence,
+	are scarce cater-cousins--
+
+LAUNCELOT	To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, having
+	done me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, being, I
+	hope, an old man, shall frutify unto you--
+
+GOBBO	I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon
+	your worship, and my suit is--
+
+LAUNCELOT	In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, as
+	your worship shall know by this honest old man; and,
+	though I say it, though old man, yet poor man, my father.
+
+BASSANIO	One speak for both. What would you?
+
+LAUNCELOT	Serve you, sir.
+
+GOBBO	That is the very defect of the matter, sir.
+
+BASSANIO	I know thee well; thou hast obtain'd thy suit:
+	Shylock thy master spoke with me this day,
+	And hath preferr'd thee, if it be preferment
+	To leave a rich Jew's service, to become
+	The follower of so poor a gentleman.
+
+LAUNCELOT	The old proverb is very well parted between my
+	master Shylock and you, sir: you have the grace of
+	God, sir, and he hath enough.
+
+BASSANIO	Thou speak'st it well. Go, father, with thy son.
+	Take leave of thy old master and inquire
+	My lodging out. Give him a livery
+	More guarded than his fellows': see it done.
+
+LAUNCELOT	Father, in. I cannot get a service, no; I have
+	ne'er a tongue in my head. Well, if any man in
+	Italy have a fairer table which doth offer to swear
+	upon a book, I shall have good fortune. Go to,
+	here's a simple line of life: here's a small trifle
+	of wives: alas, fifteen wives is nothing! eleven
+	widows and nine maids is a simple coming-in for one
+	man: and then to 'scape drowning thrice, and to be
+	in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed;
+	here are simple scapes. Well, if Fortune be a
+	woman, she's a good wench for this gear. Father,
+	come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye.
+
+	[Exeunt Launcelot and Old Gobbo]
+
+BASSANIO	I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this:
+	These things being bought and orderly bestow'd,
+	Return in haste, for I do feast to-night
+	My best-esteem'd acquaintance: hie thee, go.
+
+LEONARDO	My best endeavours shall be done herein.
+
+	[Enter GRATIANO]
+
+GRATIANO	Where is your master?
+
+LEONARDO	Yonder, sir, he walks.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+GRATIANO	Signior Bassanio!
+
+BASSANIO	Gratiano!
+
+GRATIANO	I have a suit to you.
+
+BASSANIO	You have obtain'd it.
+
+GRATIANO	You must not deny me: I must go with you to Belmont.
+
+BASSANIO	Why then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano;
+	Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice;
+	Parts that become thee happily enough
+	And in such eyes as ours appear not faults;
+	But where thou art not known, why, there they show
+	Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain
+	To allay with some cold drops of modesty
+	Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behavior
+	I be misconstrued in the place I go to,
+	And lose my hopes.
+
+GRATIANO	                  Signior Bassanio, hear me:
+	If I do not put on a sober habit,
+	Talk with respect and swear but now and then,
+	Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely,
+	Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes
+	Thus with my hat, and sigh and say 'amen,'
+	Use all the observance of civility,
+	Like one well studied in a sad ostent
+	To please his grandam, never trust me more.
+
+BASSANIO	Well, we shall see your bearing.
+
+GRATIANO	Nay, but I bar to-night: you shall not gauge me
+	By what we do to-night.
+
+BASSANIO	No, that were pity:
+	I would entreat you rather to put on
+	Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends
+	That purpose merriment. But fare you well:
+	I have some business.
+
+GRATIANO	And I must to Lorenzo and the rest:
+	But we will visit you at supper-time.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. A room in SHYLOCK'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT]
+
+JESSICA	I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so:
+	Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil,
+	Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness.
+	But fare thee well, there is a ducat for thee:
+	And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
+	Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest:
+	Give him this letter; do it secretly;
+	And so farewell: I would not have my father
+	See me in talk with thee.
+
+LAUNCELOT	Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful
+	pagan, most sweet Jew! if a Christian did not play
+	the knave and get thee, I am much deceived. But,
+	adieu: these foolish drops do something drown my
+	manly spirit: adieu.
+
+JESSICA	Farewell, good Launcelot.
+
+	[Exit Launcelot]
+
+	Alack, what heinous sin is it in me
+	To be ashamed to be my father's child!
+	But though I am a daughter to his blood,
+	I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo,
+	If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
+	Become a Christian and thy loving wife.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The same. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALARINO, and SALANIO]
+
+LORENZO	Nay, we will slink away in supper-time,
+	Disguise us at my lodging and return,
+	All in an hour.
+
+GRATIANO	We have not made good preparation.
+
+SALARINO	We have not spoke us yet of torchbearers.
+
+SALANIO	'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd,
+	And better in my mind not undertook.
+
+LORENZO	'Tis now but four o'clock: we have two hours
+	To furnish us.
+
+	[Enter LAUNCELOT, with a letter]
+
+	Friend Launcelot, what's the news?
+
+LAUNCELOT	An it shall please you to break up
+	this, it shall seem to signify.
+
+LORENZO	I know the hand: in faith, 'tis a fair hand;
+	And whiter than the paper it writ on
+	Is the fair hand that writ.
+
+GRATIANO	Love-news, in faith.
+
+LAUNCELOT	By your leave, sir.
+
+LORENZO	Whither goest thou?
+
+LAUNCELOT	Marry, sir, to bid my old master the
+	Jew to sup to-night with my new master the Christian.
+
+LORENZO	Hold here, take this: tell gentle Jessica
+	I will not fail her; speak it privately.
+	Go, gentlemen,
+
+	[Exit Launcelot]
+
+	Will you prepare you for this masque tonight?
+	I am provided of a torch-bearer.
+
+SALANIO	Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.
+
+SALANIO	And so will I.
+
+LORENZO	                  Meet me and Gratiano
+	At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence.
+
+SALARINO	'Tis good we do so.
+
+	[Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO]
+
+GRATIANO	Was not that letter from fair Jessica?
+
+LORENZO	I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed
+	How I shall take her from her father's house,
+	What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with,
+	What page's suit she hath in readiness.
+	If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven,
+	It will be for his gentle daughter's sake:
+	And never dare misfortune cross her foot,
+	Unless she do it under this excuse,
+	That she is issue to a faithless Jew.
+	Come, go with me; peruse this as thou goest:
+	Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The same. Before SHYLOCK'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT]
+
+SHYLOCK	Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge,
+	The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio:--
+	What, Jessica!--thou shalt not gormandise,
+	As thou hast done with me:--What, Jessica!--
+	And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out;--
+	Why, Jessica, I say!
+
+LAUNCELOT	Why, Jessica!
+
+SHYLOCK	Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.
+
+LAUNCELOT	Your worship was wont to tell me that
+	I could do nothing without bidding.
+
+	[Enter Jessica]
+
+JESSICA	Call you? what is your will?
+
+SHYLOCK	I am bid forth to supper, Jessica:
+	There are my keys. But wherefore should I go?
+	I am not bid for love; they flatter me:
+	But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
+	The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl,
+	Look to my house. I am right loath to go:
+	There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,
+	For I did dream of money-bags to-night.
+
+LAUNCELOT	I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth expect
+	your reproach.
+
+SHYLOCK	So do I his.
+
+LAUNCELOT	An they have conspired together, I will not say you
+	shall see a masque; but if you do, then it was not
+	for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on
+	Black-Monday last at six o'clock i' the morning,
+	falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four
+	year, in the afternoon.
+
+SHYLOCK	What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica:
+	Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum
+	And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife,
+	Clamber not you up to the casements then,
+	Nor thrust your head into the public street
+	To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces,
+	But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements:
+	Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter
+	My sober house. By Jacob's staff, I swear,
+	I have no mind of feasting forth to-night:
+	But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah;
+	Say I will come.
+
+LAUNCELOT	I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at
+	window, for all this, There will come a Christian
+	boy, will be worth a Jewess' eye.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SHYLOCK	What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha?
+
+
+JESSICA	His words were 'Farewell mistress;' nothing else.
+
+SHYLOCK	The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder;
+	Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day
+	More than the wild-cat: drones hive not with me;
+	Therefore I part with him, and part with him
+	To one that would have him help to waste
+	His borrow'd purse. Well, Jessica, go in;
+	Perhaps I will return immediately:
+	Do as I bid you; shut doors after you:
+	Fast bind, fast find;
+	A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+JESSICA	Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost,
+	I have a father, you a daughter, lost.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued]
+
+GRATIANO	This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo
+	Desired us to make stand.
+
+SALARINO	His hour is almost past.
+
+GRATIANO	And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,
+	For lovers ever run before the clock.
+
+SALARINO	O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly
+	To seal love's bonds new-made, than they are wont
+	To keep obliged faith unforfeited!
+
+GRATIANO	That ever holds: who riseth from a feast
+	With that keen appetite that he sits down?
+	Where is the horse that doth untread again
+	His tedious measures with the unbated fire
+	That he did pace them first? All things that are,
+	Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
+	How like a younker or a prodigal
+	The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
+	Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!
+	How like the prodigal doth she return,
+	With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails,
+	Lean, rent and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!
+
+SALARINO	Here comes Lorenzo: more of this hereafter.
+
+	[Enter LORENZO]
+
+LORENZO	Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode;
+	Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait:
+	When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,
+	I'll watch as long for you then. Approach;
+	Here dwells my father Jew. Ho! who's within?
+
+	[Enter JESSICA, above, in boy's clothes]
+
+JESSICA	Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty,
+	Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue.
+
+LORENZO	Lorenzo, and thy love.
+
+JESSICA	Lorenzo, certain, and my love indeed,
+	For who love I so much? And now who knows
+	But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
+
+LORENZO	Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art.
+
+JESSICA	Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains.
+	I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me,
+	For I am much ashamed of my exchange:
+	But love is blind and lovers cannot see
+	The pretty follies that themselves commit;
+	For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
+	To see me thus transformed to a boy.
+
+LORENZO	Descend, for you must be my torchbearer.
+
+JESSICA	What, must I hold a candle to my shames?
+	They in themselves, good-sooth, are too too light.
+	Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love;
+	And I should be obscured.
+
+LORENZO	So are you, sweet,
+	Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
+	But come at once;
+	For the close night doth play the runaway,
+	And we are stay'd for at Bassanio's feast.
+
+JESSICA	I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
+	With some more ducats, and be with you straight.
+
+	[Exit above]
+
+GRATIANO	Now, by my hood, a Gentile and no Jew.
+
+LORENZO	Beshrew me but I love her heartily;
+	For she is wise, if I can judge of her,
+	And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true,
+	And true she is, as she hath proved herself,
+	And therefore, like herself, wise, fair and true,
+	Shall she be placed in my constant soul.
+
+	[Enter JESSICA, below]
+
+	What, art thou come? On, gentlemen; away!
+	Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.
+
+	[Exit with Jessica and Salarino]
+
+	[Enter ANTONIO]
+
+ANTONIO	Who's there?
+
+GRATIANO	Signior Antonio!
+
+ANTONIO	Fie, fie, Gratiano! where are all the rest?
+	'Tis nine o'clock: our friends all stay for you.
+	No masque to-night: the wind is come about;
+	Bassanio presently will go aboard:
+	I have sent twenty out to seek for you.
+
+GRATIANO	I am glad on't: I desire no more delight
+	Than to be under sail and gone to-night.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.
+
+
+	[Flourish of cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the
+	PRINCE OF MOROCCO, and their trains]
+
+PORTIA	Go draw aside the curtains and discover
+	The several caskets to this noble prince.
+	Now make your choice.
+
+MOROCCO	The first, of gold, who this inscription bears,
+	'Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire;'
+	The second, silver, which this promise carries,
+	'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves;'
+	This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,
+	'Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.'
+	How shall I know if I do choose the right?
+
+PORTIA	The one of them contains my picture, prince:
+	If you choose that, then I am yours withal.
+
+MOROCCO	Some god direct my judgment! Let me see;
+	I will survey the inscriptions back again.
+	What says this leaden casket?
+	'Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.'
+	Must give: for what? for lead? hazard for lead?
+	This casket threatens. Men that hazard all
+	Do it in hope of fair advantages:
+	A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross;
+	I'll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead.
+	What says the silver with her virgin hue?
+	'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.'
+	As much as he deserves! Pause there, Morocco,
+	And weigh thy value with an even hand:
+	If thou be'st rated by thy estimation,
+	Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
+	May not extend so far as to the lady:
+	And yet to be afeard of my deserving
+	Were but a weak disabling of myself.
+	As much as I deserve! Why, that's the lady:
+	I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
+	In graces and in qualities of breeding;
+	But more than these, in love I do deserve.
+	What if I stray'd no further, but chose here?
+	Let's see once more this saying graved in gold
+	'Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.'
+	Why, that's the lady; all the world desires her;
+	From the four corners of the earth they come,
+	To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint:
+	The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds
+	Of wide Arabia are as thoroughfares now
+	For princes to come view fair Portia:
+	The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
+	Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
+	To stop the foreign spirits, but they come,
+	As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia.
+	One of these three contains her heavenly picture.
+	Is't like that lead contains her? 'Twere damnation
+	To think so base a thought: it were too gross
+	To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
+	Or shall I think in silver she's immured,
+	Being ten times undervalued to tried gold?
+	O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem
+	Was set in worse than gold. They have in England
+	A coin that bears the figure of an angel
+	Stamped in gold, but that's insculp'd upon;
+	But here an angel in a golden bed
+	Lies all within. Deliver me the key:
+	Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may!
+
+PORTIA	There, take it, prince; and if my form lie there,
+	Then I am yours.
+
+	[He unlocks the golden casket]
+
+MOROCCO	                  O hell! what have we here?
+	A carrion Death, within whose empty eye
+	There is a written scroll! I'll read the writing.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	All that glitters is not gold;
+	Often have you heard that told:
+	Many a man his life hath sold
+	But my outside to behold:
+	Gilded tombs do worms enfold.
+	Had you been as wise as bold,
+	Young in limbs, in judgment old,
+	Your answer had not been inscroll'd:
+	Fare you well; your suit is cold.
+	Cold, indeed; and labour lost:
+	Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost!
+	Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart
+	To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.
+
+	[Exit with his train. Flourish of cornets]
+
+PORTIA	A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go.
+	Let all of his complexion choose me so.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII	Venice. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter SALARINO and SALANIO]
+
+SALARINO	Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail:
+	With him is Gratiano gone along;
+	And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.
+
+SALANIO	The villain Jew with outcries raised the duke,
+	Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship.
+
+SALARINO	He came too late, the ship was under sail:
+	But there the duke was given to understand
+	That in a gondola were seen together
+	Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica:
+	Besides, Antonio certified the duke
+	They were not with Bassanio in his ship.
+
+SALANIO	I never heard a passion so confused,
+	So strange, outrageous, and so variable,
+	As the dog Jew did utter in the streets:
+	'My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter!
+	Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats!
+	Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter!
+	A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,
+	Of double ducats, stolen from me by my daughter!
+	And jewels, two stones, two rich and precious stones,
+	Stolen by my daughter! Justice! find the girl;
+	She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats.'
+
+SALARINO	Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,
+	Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.
+
+SALANIO	Let good Antonio look he keep his day,
+	Or he shall pay for this.
+
+SALARINO	Marry, well remember'd.
+	I reason'd with a Frenchman yesterday,
+	Who told me, in the narrow seas that part
+	The French and English, there miscarried
+	A vessel of our country richly fraught:
+	I thought upon Antonio when he told me;
+	And wish'd in silence that it were not his.
+
+SALANIO	You were best to tell Antonio what you hear;
+	Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.
+
+SALARINO	A kinder gentleman treads not the earth.
+	I saw Bassanio and Antonio part:
+	Bassanio told him he would make some speed
+	Of his return: he answer'd, 'Do not so;
+	Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio
+	But stay the very riping of the time;
+	And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me,
+	Let it not enter in your mind of love:
+	Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts
+	To courtship and such fair ostents of love
+	As shall conveniently become you there:'
+	And even there, his eye being big with tears,
+	Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,
+	And with affection wondrous sensible
+	He wrung Bassanio's hand; and so they parted.
+
+SALANIO	I think he only loves the world for him.
+	I pray thee, let us go and find him out
+	And quicken his embraced heaviness
+	With some delight or other.
+
+SALARINO	Do we so.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IX	Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter NERISSA with a Servitor]
+
+NERISSA	Quick, quick, I pray thee; draw the curtain straight:
+	The Prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath,
+	And comes to his election presently.
+
+	[Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF ARRAGON,
+	PORTIA, and their trains]
+
+PORTIA	Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince:
+	If you choose that wherein I am contain'd,
+	Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized:
+	But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,
+	You must be gone from hence immediately.
+
+ARRAGON	I am enjoin'd by oath to observe three things:
+	First, never to unfold to any one
+	Which casket 'twas I chose; next, if I fail
+	Of the right casket, never in my life
+	To woo a maid in way of marriage: Lastly,
+	If I do fail in fortune of my choice,
+	Immediately to leave you and be gone.
+
+PORTIA	To these injunctions every one doth swear
+	That comes to hazard for my worthless self.
+
+ARRAGON	And so have I address'd me. Fortune now
+	To my heart's hope! Gold; silver; and base lead.
+	'Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.'
+	You shall look fairer, ere I give or hazard.
+	What says the golden chest? ha! let me see:
+	'Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.'
+	What many men desire! that 'many' may be meant
+	By the fool multitude, that choose by show,
+	Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach;
+	Which pries not to the interior, but, like the martlet,
+	Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
+	Even in the force and road of casualty.
+	I will not choose what many men desire,
+	Because I will not jump with common spirits
+	And rank me with the barbarous multitudes.
+	Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house;
+	Tell me once more what title thou dost bear:
+	'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves:'
+	And well said too; for who shall go about
+	To cozen fortune and be honourable
+	Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume
+	To wear an undeserved dignity.
+	O, that estates, degrees and offices
+	Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honour
+	Were purchased by the merit of the wearer!
+	How many then should cover that stand bare!
+	How many be commanded that command!
+	How much low peasantry would then be glean'd
+	From the true seed of honour! and how much honour
+	Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times
+	To be new-varnish'd! Well, but to my choice:
+	'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.'
+	I will assume desert. Give me a key for this,
+	And instantly unlock my fortunes here.
+
+	[He opens the silver casket]
+
+PORTIA	Too long a pause for that which you find there.
+
+ARRAGON	What's here? the portrait of a blinking idiot,
+	Presenting me a schedule! I will read it.
+	How much unlike art thou to Portia!
+	How much unlike my hopes and my deservings!
+	'Who chooseth me shall have as much as he deserves.'
+	Did I deserve no more than a fool's head?
+	Is that my prize? are my deserts no better?
+
+PORTIA	To offend, and judge, are distinct offices
+	And of opposed natures.
+
+ARRAGON	What is here?
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	The fire seven times tried this:
+	Seven times tried that judgment is,
+	That did never choose amiss.
+	Some there be that shadows kiss;
+	Such have but a shadow's bliss:
+	There be fools alive, I wis,
+	Silver'd o'er; and so was this.
+	Take what wife you will to bed,
+	I will ever be your head:
+	So be gone: you are sped.
+	Still more fool I shall appear
+	By the time I linger here
+	With one fool's head I came to woo,
+	But I go away with two.
+	Sweet, adieu. I'll keep my oath,
+	Patiently to bear my wroth.
+
+	[Exeunt Arragon and train]
+
+PORTIA	Thus hath the candle singed the moth.
+	O, these deliberate fools! when they do choose,
+	They have the wisdom by their wit to lose.
+
+NERISSA	The ancient saying is no heresy,
+	Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
+
+PORTIA	Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+Servant	Where is my lady?
+
+PORTIA	                  Here: what would my lord?
+
+Servant	Madam, there is alighted at your gate
+	A young Venetian, one that comes before
+	To signify the approaching of his lord;
+	From whom he bringeth sensible regreets,
+	To wit, besides commends and courteous breath,
+	Gifts of rich value. Yet I have not seen
+	So likely an ambassador of love:
+	A day in April never came so sweet,
+	To show how costly summer was at hand,
+	As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord.
+
+PORTIA	No more, I pray thee: I am half afeard
+	Thou wilt say anon he is some kin to thee,
+	Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him.
+	Come, come, Nerissa; for I long to see
+	Quick Cupid's post that comes so mannerly.
+
+NERISSA	Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it be!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Venice. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter SALANIO and SALARINO]
+
+SALANIO	Now, what news on the Rialto?
+
+SALARINO	Why, yet it lives there uncheck'd that Antonio hath
+	a ship of rich lading wrecked on the narrow seas;
+	the Goodwins, I think they call the place; a very
+	dangerous flat and fatal, where the carcasses of many
+	a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip
+	Report be an honest woman of her word.
+
+SALANIO	I would she were as lying a gossip in that as ever
+	knapped ginger or made her neighbours believe she
+	wept for the death of a third husband. But it is
+	true, without any slips of prolixity or crossing the
+	plain highway of talk, that the good Antonio, the
+	honest Antonio,--O that I had a title good enough
+	to keep his name company!--
+
+SALARINO	Come, the full stop.
+
+SALANIO	Ha! what sayest thou? Why, the end is, he hath
+	lost a ship.
+
+SALARINO	I would it might prove the end of his losses.
+
+SALANIO	Let me say 'amen' betimes, lest the devil cross my
+	prayer, for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew.
+
+	[Enter SHYLOCK]
+
+	How now, Shylock! what news among the merchants?
+
+SHYLOCK	You know, none so well, none so well as you, of my
+	daughter's flight.
+
+SALARINO	That's certain: I, for my part, knew the tailor
+	that made the wings she flew withal.
+
+SALANIO	And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was
+	fledged; and then it is the complexion of them all
+	to leave the dam.
+
+SHYLOCK	She is damned for it.
+
+SALANIO	That's certain, if the devil may be her judge.
+
+SHYLOCK	My own flesh and blood to rebel!
+
+SALANIO	Out upon it, old carrion! rebels it at these years?
+
+SHYLOCK	I say, my daughter is my flesh and blood.
+
+SALARINO	There is more difference between thy flesh and hers
+	than between jet and ivory; more between your bloods
+	than there is between red wine and rhenish. But
+	tell us, do you hear whether Antonio have had any
+	loss at sea or no?
+
+SHYLOCK	There I have another bad match: a bankrupt, a
+	prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the
+	Rialto; a beggar, that was used to come so smug upon
+	the mart; let him look to his bond: he was wont to
+	call me usurer; let him look to his bond: he was
+	wont to lend money for a Christian courtesy; let him
+	look to his bond.
+
+SALARINO	Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take
+	his flesh: what's that good for?
+
+SHYLOCK	To bait fish withal: if it will feed nothing else,
+	it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and
+	hindered me half a million; laughed at my losses,
+	mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my
+	bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine
+	enemies; and what's his reason? I am a Jew. Hath
+	not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs,
+	dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with
+	the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject
+	to the same diseases, healed by the same means,
+	warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as
+	a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed?
+	if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison
+	us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not
+	revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will
+	resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian,
+	what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian
+	wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by
+	Christian example? Why, revenge. The villany you
+	teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I
+	will better the instruction.
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+Servant	Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his house and
+	desires to speak with you both.
+
+SALARINO	We have been up and down to seek him.
+
+	[Enter TUBAL]
+
+SALANIO	Here comes another of the tribe: a third cannot be
+	matched, unless the devil himself turn Jew.
+
+	[Exeunt SALANIO, SALARINO, and Servant]
+
+SHYLOCK	How now, Tubal! what news from Genoa? hast thou
+	found my daughter?
+
+TUBAL	I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her.
+
+SHYLOCK	Why, there, there, there, there! a diamond gone,
+	cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort! The curse
+	never fell upon our nation till now; I never felt it
+	till now: two thousand ducats in that; and other
+	precious, precious jewels. I would my daughter
+	were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear!
+	would she were hearsed at my foot, and the ducats in
+	her coffin! No news of them? Why, so: and I know
+	not what's spent in the search: why, thou loss upon
+	loss! the thief gone with so much, and so much to
+	find the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge:
+	nor no in luck stirring but what lights on my
+	shoulders; no sighs but of my breathing; no tears
+	but of my shedding.
+
+TUBAL	Yes, other men have ill luck too: Antonio, as I
+	heard in Genoa,--
+
+SHYLOCK	What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck?
+
+TUBAL	Hath an argosy cast away, coming from Tripolis.
+
+SHYLOCK	I thank God, I thank God. Is't true, is't true?
+
+TUBAL	I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the wreck.
+
+SHYLOCK	I thank thee, good Tubal: good news, good news!
+	ha, ha! where? in Genoa?
+
+TUBAL	Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, in one
+	night fourscore ducats.
+
+SHYLOCK	Thou stickest a dagger in me: I shall never see my
+	gold again: fourscore ducats at a sitting!
+	fourscore ducats!
+
+TUBAL	There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my
+	company to Venice, that swear he cannot choose but break.
+
+SHYLOCK	I am very glad of it: I'll plague him; I'll torture
+	him: I am glad of it.
+
+TUBAL	One of them showed me a ring that he had of your
+	daughter for a monkey.
+
+SHYLOCK	Out upon her! Thou torturest me, Tubal: it was my
+	turquoise; I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor:
+	I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkeys.
+
+TUBAL	But Antonio is certainly undone.
+
+SHYLOCK	Nay, that's true, that's very true. Go, Tubal, fee
+	me an officer; bespeak him a fortnight before. I
+	will have the heart of him, if he forfeit; for, were
+	he out of Venice, I can make what merchandise I
+	will. Go, go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue;
+	go, good Tubal; at our synagogue, Tubal.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter BASSANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO, NERISSA, and
+	Attendants]
+
+PORTIA	I pray you, tarry: pause a day or two
+	Before you hazard; for, in choosing wrong,
+	I lose your company: therefore forbear awhile.
+	There's something tells me, but it is not love,
+	I would not lose you; and you know yourself,
+	Hate counsels not in such a quality.
+	But lest you should not understand me well,--
+	And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought,--
+	I would detain you here some month or two
+	Before you venture for me. I could teach you
+	How to choose right, but I am then forsworn;
+	So will I never be: so may you miss me;
+	But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin,
+	That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes,
+	They have o'erlook'd me and divided me;
+	One half of me is yours, the other half yours,
+	Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours,
+	And so all yours. O, these naughty times
+	Put bars between the owners and their rights!
+	And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so,
+	Let fortune go to hell for it, not I.
+	I speak too long; but 'tis to peize the time,
+	To eke it and to draw it out in length,
+	To stay you from election.
+
+BASSANIO	Let me choose
+	For as I am, I live upon the rack.
+
+PORTIA	Upon the rack, Bassanio! then confess
+	What treason there is mingled with your love.
+
+BASSANIO	None but that ugly treason of mistrust,
+	Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love:
+	There may as well be amity and life
+	'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love.
+
+PORTIA	Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack,
+	Where men enforced do speak anything.
+
+BASSANIO	Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth.
+
+PORTIA	Well then, confess and live.
+
+BASSANIO	'Confess' and 'love'
+	Had been the very sum of my confession:
+	O happy torment, when my torturer
+	Doth teach me answers for deliverance!
+	But let me to my fortune and the caskets.
+
+PORTIA	Away, then! I am lock'd in one of them:
+	If you do love me, you will find me out.
+	Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof.
+	Let music sound while he doth make his choice;
+	Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end,
+	Fading in music: that the comparison
+	May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream
+	And watery death-bed for him. He may win;
+	And what is music then? Then music is
+	Even as the flourish when true subjects bow
+	To a new-crowned monarch: such it is
+	As are those dulcet sounds in break of day
+	That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear,
+	And summon him to marriage. Now he goes,
+	With no less presence, but with much more love,
+	Than young Alcides, when he did redeem
+	The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy
+	To the sea-monster: I stand for sacrifice
+	The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives,
+	With bleared visages, come forth to view
+	The issue of the exploit. Go, Hercules!
+	Live thou, I live: with much, much more dismay
+	I view the fight than thou that makest the fray.
+
+	[Music, whilst BASSANIO comments on the caskets to himself]
+	
+	SONG.
+	Tell me where is fancy bred,
+	Or in the heart, or in the head?
+	How begot, how nourished?
+	Reply, reply.
+	It is engender'd in the eyes,
+	With gazing fed; and fancy dies
+	In the cradle where it lies.
+	Let us all ring fancy's knell
+	I'll begin it,--Ding, dong, bell.
+
+ALL	Ding, dong, bell.
+
+BASSANIO	So may the outward shows be least themselves:
+	The world is still deceived with ornament.
+	In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,
+	But, being seasoned with a gracious voice,
+	Obscures the show of evil? In religion,
+	What damned error, but some sober brow
+	Will bless it and approve it with a text,
+	Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?
+	There is no vice so simple but assumes
+	Some mark of virtue on his outward parts:
+	How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false
+	As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
+	The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars;
+	Who, inward search'd, have livers white as milk;
+	And these assume but valour's excrement
+	To render them redoubted! Look on beauty,
+	And you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight;
+	Which therein works a miracle in nature,
+	Making them lightest that wear most of it:
+	So are those crisped snaky golden locks
+	Which make such wanton gambols with the wind,
+	Upon supposed fairness, often known
+	To be the dowry of a second head,
+	The skull that bred them in the sepulchre.
+	Thus ornament is but the guiled shore
+	To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf
+	Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,
+	The seeming truth which cunning times put on
+	To entrap the wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy gold,
+	Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee;
+	Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge
+	'Tween man and man: but thou, thou meagre lead,
+	Which rather threatenest than dost promise aught,
+	Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence;
+	And here choose I; joy be the consequence!
+
+PORTIA	[Aside]  How all the other passions fleet to air,
+	As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embraced despair,
+	And shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy! O love,
+	Be moderate; allay thy ecstasy,
+	In measure rein thy joy; scant this excess.
+	I feel too much thy blessing: make it less,
+	For fear I surfeit.
+
+BASSANIO	What find I here?
+
+	[Opening the leaden casket]
+
+	Fair Portia's counterfeit! What demi-god
+	Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes?
+	Or whether, riding on the balls of mine,
+	Seem they in motion? Here are sever'd lips,
+	Parted with sugar breath: so sweet a bar
+	Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs
+	The painter plays the spider and hath woven
+	A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men,
+	Faster than gnats in cobwebs; but her eyes,--
+	How could he see to do them? having made one,
+	Methinks it should have power to steal both his
+	And leave itself unfurnish'd. Yet look, how far
+	The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow
+	In underprizing it, so far this shadow
+	Doth limp behind the substance. Here's the scroll,
+	The continent and summary of my fortune.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	You that choose not by the view,
+	Chance as fair and choose as true!
+	Since this fortune falls to you,
+	Be content and seek no new,
+	If you be well pleased with this
+	And hold your fortune for your bliss,
+	Turn you where your lady is
+	And claim her with a loving kiss.
+	A gentle scroll. Fair lady, by your leave;
+	I come by note, to give and to receive.
+	Like one of two contending in a prize,
+	That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes,
+	Hearing applause and universal shout,
+	Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt
+	Whether these pearls of praise be his or no;
+	So, thrice fair lady, stand I, even so;
+	As doubtful whether what I see be true,
+	Until confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you.
+
+PORTIA	You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand,
+	Such as I am: though for myself alone
+	I would not be ambitious in my wish,
+	To wish myself much better; yet, for you
+	I would be trebled twenty times myself;
+	A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more rich;
+	That only to stand high in your account,
+	I might in virtue, beauties, livings, friends,
+	Exceed account; but the full sum of me
+	Is sum of something, which, to term in gross,
+	Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractised;
+	Happy in this, she is not yet so old
+	But she may learn; happier than this,
+	She is not bred so dull but she can learn;
+	Happiest of all is that her gentle spirit
+	Commits itself to yours to be directed,
+	As from her lord, her governor, her king.
+	Myself and what is mine to you and yours
+	Is now converted: but now I was the lord
+	Of this fair mansion, master of my servants,
+	Queen o'er myself: and even now, but now,
+	This house, these servants and this same myself
+	Are yours, my lord: I give them with this ring;
+	Which when you part from, lose, or give away,
+	Let it presage the ruin of your love
+	And be my vantage to exclaim on you.
+
+BASSANIO	Madam, you have bereft me of all words,
+	Only my blood speaks to you in my veins;
+	And there is such confusion in my powers,
+	As after some oration fairly spoke
+	By a beloved prince, there doth appear
+	Among the buzzing pleased multitude;
+	Where every something, being blent together,
+	Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy,
+	Express'd and not express'd. But when this ring
+	Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence:
+	O, then be bold to say Bassanio's dead!
+
+NERISSA	My lord and lady, it is now our time,
+	That have stood by and seen our wishes prosper,
+	To cry, good joy: good joy, my lord and lady!
+
+GRATIANO	My lord Bassanio and my gentle lady,
+	I wish you all the joy that you can wish;
+	For I am sure you can wish none from me:
+	And when your honours mean to solemnize
+	The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you,
+	Even at that time I may be married too.
+
+BASSANIO	With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife.
+
+GRATIANO	I thank your lordship, you have got me one.
+	My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours:
+	You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid;
+	You loved, I loved for intermission.
+	No more pertains to me, my lord, than you.
+	Your fortune stood upon the casket there,
+	And so did mine too, as the matter falls;
+	For wooing here until I sweat again,
+	And sweating until my very roof was dry
+	With oaths of love, at last, if promise last,
+	I got a promise of this fair one here
+	To have her love, provided that your fortune
+	Achieved her mistress.
+
+PORTIA	Is this true, Nerissa?
+
+NERISSA	Madam, it is, so you stand pleased withal.
+
+BASSANIO	And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?
+
+GRATIANO	Yes, faith, my lord.
+
+BASSANIO	Our feast shall be much honour'd in your marriage.
+
+GRATIANO	We'll play with them the first boy for a thousand ducats.
+
+NERISSA	What, and stake down?
+
+GRATIANO	No; we shall ne'er win at that sport, and stake down.
+	But who comes here? Lorenzo and his infidel? What,
+	and my old Venetian friend Salerio?
+
+	[Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SALERIO, a Messenger
+	from Venice]
+
+BASSANIO	Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither;
+	If that the youth of my new interest here
+	Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave,
+	I bid my very friends and countrymen,
+	Sweet Portia, welcome.
+
+PORTIA	So do I, my lord:
+	They are entirely welcome.
+
+LORENZO	I thank your honour. For my part, my lord,
+	My purpose was not to have seen you here;
+	But meeting with Salerio by the way,
+	He did entreat me, past all saying nay,
+	To come with him along.
+
+SALERIO	I did, my lord;
+	And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio
+	Commends him to you.
+
+	[Gives Bassanio a letter]
+
+BASSANIO	Ere I ope his letter,
+	I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth.
+
+SALERIO	Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind;
+	Nor well, unless in mind: his letter there
+	Will show you his estate.
+
+GRATIANO	Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her welcome.
+	Your hand, Salerio: what's the news from Venice?
+	How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio?
+	I know he will be glad of our success;
+	We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.
+
+SALERIO	I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost.
+
+PORTIA	There are some shrewd contents in yon same paper,
+	That steals the colour from Bassanio's cheek:
+	Some dear friend dead; else nothing in the world
+	Could turn so much the constitution
+	Of any constant man. What, worse and worse!
+	With leave, Bassanio: I am half yourself,
+	And I must freely have the half of anything
+	That this same paper brings you.
+
+BASSANIO	O sweet Portia,
+	Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words
+	That ever blotted paper! Gentle lady,
+	When I did first impart my love to you,
+	I freely told you, all the wealth I had
+	Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman;
+	And then I told you true: and yet, dear lady,
+	Rating myself at nothing, you shall see
+	How much I was a braggart. When I told you
+	My state was nothing, I should then have told you
+	That I was worse than nothing; for, indeed,
+	I have engaged myself to a dear friend,
+	Engaged my friend to his mere enemy,
+	To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady;
+	The paper as the body of my friend,
+	And every word in it a gaping wound,
+	Issuing life-blood. But is it true, Salerio?
+	Have all his ventures fail'd? What, not one hit?
+	From Tripolis, from Mexico and England,
+	From Lisbon, Barbary and India?
+	And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch
+	Of merchant-marring rocks?
+
+SALERIO	Not one, my lord.
+	Besides, it should appear, that if he had
+	The present money to discharge the Jew,
+	He would not take it. Never did I know
+	A creature, that did bear the shape of man,
+	So keen and greedy to confound a man:
+	He plies the duke at morning and at night,
+	And doth impeach the freedom of the state,
+	If they deny him justice: twenty merchants,
+	The duke himself, and the magnificoes
+	Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him;
+	But none can drive him from the envious plea
+	Of forfeiture, of justice and his bond.
+
+JESSICA	When I was with him I have heard him swear
+	To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen,
+	That he would rather have Antonio's flesh
+	Than twenty times the value of the sum
+	That he did owe him: and I know, my lord,
+	If law, authority and power deny not,
+	It will go hard with poor Antonio.
+
+PORTIA	Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?
+
+BASSANIO	The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,
+	The best-condition'd and unwearied spirit
+	In doing courtesies, and one in whom
+	The ancient Roman honour more appears
+	Than any that draws breath in Italy.
+
+PORTIA	What sum owes he the Jew?
+
+BASSANIO	For me three thousand ducats.
+
+PORTIA	What, no more?
+	Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond;
+	Double six thousand, and then treble that,
+	Before a friend of this description
+	Shall lose a hair through Bassanio's fault.
+	First go with me to church and call me wife,
+	And then away to Venice to your friend;
+	For never shall you lie by Portia's side
+	With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold
+	To pay the petty debt twenty times over:
+	When it is paid, bring your true friend along.
+	My maid Nerissa and myself meantime
+	Will live as maids and widows. Come, away!
+	For you shall hence upon your wedding-day:
+	Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer:
+	Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear.
+	But let me hear the letter of your friend.
+
+BASSANIO	[Reads]  Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all
+	miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is
+	very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since
+	in paying it, it is impossible I should live, all
+	debts are cleared between you and I, if I might but
+	see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use your
+	pleasure: if your love do not persuade you to come,
+	let not my letter.
+
+PORTIA	O love, dispatch all business, and be gone!
+
+BASSANIO	Since I have your good leave to go away,
+	I will make haste: but, till I come again,
+	No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay,
+	No rest be interposer 'twixt us twain.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Venice. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter SHYLOCK, SALARINO, ANTONIO, and Gaoler]
+
+SHYLOCK	Gaoler, look to him: tell not me of mercy;
+	This is the fool that lent out money gratis:
+	Gaoler, look to him.
+
+ANTONIO	Hear me yet, good Shylock.
+
+SHYLOCK	I'll have my bond; speak not against my bond:
+	I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond.
+	Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause;
+	But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs:
+	The duke shall grant me justice. I do wonder,
+	Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond
+	To come abroad with him at his request.
+
+ANTONIO	I pray thee, hear me speak.
+
+SHYLOCK	I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee speak:
+	I'll have my bond; and therefore speak no more.
+	I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool,
+	To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield
+	To Christian intercessors. Follow not;
+	I'll have no speaking: I will have my bond.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SALARINO	It is the most impenetrable cur
+	That ever kept with men.
+
+ANTONIO	Let him alone:
+	I'll follow him no more with bootless prayers.
+	He seeks my life; his reason well I know:
+	I oft deliver'd from his forfeitures
+	Many that have at times made moan to me;
+	Therefore he hates me.
+
+SALARINO	I am sure the duke
+	Will never grant this forfeiture to hold.
+
+ANTONIO	The duke cannot deny the course of law:
+	For the commodity that strangers have
+	With us in Venice, if it be denied,
+	Will much impeach the justice of his state;
+	Since that the trade and profit of the city
+	Consisteth of all nations. Therefore, go:
+	These griefs and losses have so bated me,
+	That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh
+	To-morrow to my bloody creditor.
+	Well, gaoler, on. Pray God, Bassanio come
+	To see me pay his debt, and then I care not!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter PORTIA, NERISSA, LORENZO, JESSICA, and
+	BALTHASAR]
+
+LORENZO	Madam, although I speak it in your presence,
+	You have a noble and a true conceit
+	Of godlike amity; which appears most strongly
+	In bearing thus the absence of your lord.
+	But if you knew to whom you show this honour,
+	How true a gentleman you send relief,
+	How dear a lover of my lord your husband,
+	I know you would be prouder of the work
+	Than customary bounty can enforce you.
+
+PORTIA	I never did repent for doing good,
+	Nor shall not now: for in companions
+	That do converse and waste the time together,
+	Whose souls do bear an equal yoke Of love,
+	There must be needs a like proportion
+	Of lineaments, of manners and of spirit;
+	Which makes me think that this Antonio,
+	Being the bosom lover of my lord,
+	Must needs be like my lord. If it be so,
+	How little is the cost I have bestow'd
+	In purchasing the semblance of my soul
+	From out the state of hellish misery!
+	This comes too near the praising of myself;
+	Therefore no more of it: hear other things.
+	Lorenzo, I commit into your hands
+	The husbandry and manage of my house
+	Until my lord's return: for mine own part,
+	I have toward heaven breathed a secret vow
+	To live in prayer and contemplation,
+	Only attended by Nerissa here,
+	Until her husband and my lord's return:
+	There is a monastery two miles off;
+	And there will we abide. I do desire you
+	Not to deny this imposition;
+	The which my love and some necessity
+	Now lays upon you.
+
+LORENZO	                  Madam, with all my heart;
+	I shall obey you in all fair commands.
+
+PORTIA	My people do already know my mind,
+	And will acknowledge you and Jessica
+	In place of Lord Bassanio and myself.
+	And so farewell, till we shall meet again.
+
+LORENZO	Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you!
+
+JESSICA	I wish your ladyship all heart's content.
+
+PORTIA	I thank you for your wish, and am well pleased
+	To wish it back on you: fare you well Jessica.
+
+	[Exeunt JESSICA and LORENZO]
+
+	Now, Balthasar,
+	As I have ever found thee honest-true,
+	So let me find thee still. Take this same letter,
+	And use thou all the endeavour of a man
+	In speed to Padua: see thou render this
+	Into my cousin's hand, Doctor Bellario;
+	And, look, what notes and garments he doth give thee,
+	Bring them, I pray thee, with imagined speed
+	Unto the tranect, to the common ferry
+	Which trades to Venice. Waste no time in words,
+	But get thee gone: I shall be there before thee.
+
+BALTHASAR	Madam, I go with all convenient speed.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PORTIA	Come on, Nerissa; I have work in hand
+	That you yet know not of: we'll see our husbands
+	Before they think of us.
+
+NERISSA	Shall they see us?
+
+PORTIA	They shall, Nerissa; but in such a habit,
+	That they shall think we are accomplished
+	With that we lack. I'll hold thee any wager,
+	When we are both accoutred like young men,
+	I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two,
+	And wear my dagger with the braver grace,
+	And speak between the change of man and boy
+	With a reed voice, and turn two mincing steps
+	Into a manly stride, and speak of frays
+	Like a fine bragging youth, and tell quaint lies,
+	How honourable ladies sought my love,
+	Which I denying, they fell sick and died;
+	I could not do withal; then I'll repent,
+	And wish for all that, that I had not killed them;
+	And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell,
+	That men shall swear I have discontinued school
+	Above a twelvemonth. I have within my mind
+	A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks,
+	Which I will practise.
+
+NERISSA	Why, shall we turn to men?
+
+PORTIA	Fie, what a question's that,
+	If thou wert near a lewd interpreter!
+	But come, I'll tell thee all my whole device
+	When I am in my coach, which stays for us
+	At the park gate; and therefore haste away,
+	For we must measure twenty miles to-day.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The same. A garden.
+
+
+	[Enter LAUNCELOT and JESSICA]
+
+LAUNCELOT	Yes, truly; for, look you, the sins of the father
+	are to be laid upon the children: therefore, I
+	promise ye, I fear you. I was always plain with
+	you, and so now I speak my agitation of the matter:
+	therefore be of good cheer, for truly I think you
+	are damned. There is but one hope in it that can do
+	you any good; and that is but a kind of bastard
+	hope neither.
+
+JESSICA	And what hope is that, I pray thee?
+
+LAUNCELOT	Marry, you may partly hope that your father got you
+	not, that you are not the Jew's daughter.
+
+JESSICA	That were a kind of bastard hope, indeed: so the
+	sins of my mother should be visited upon me.
+
+LAUNCELOT	Truly then I fear you are damned both by father and
+	mother: thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I
+	fall into Charybdis, your mother: well, you are
+	gone both ways.
+
+JESSICA	I shall be saved by my husband; he hath made me a
+	Christian.
+
+LAUNCELOT	Truly, the more to blame he: we were Christians
+	enow before; e'en as many as could well live, one by
+	another. This making Christians will raise the
+	price of hogs: if we grow all to be pork-eaters, we
+	shall not shortly have a rasher on the coals for money.
+
+	[Enter LORENZO]
+
+JESSICA	I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say: here he comes.
+
+LORENZO	I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if
+	you thus get my wife into corners.
+
+JESSICA	Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo: Launcelot and I
+	are out. He tells me flatly, there is no mercy for
+	me in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter: and he
+	says, you are no good member of the commonwealth,
+	for in converting Jews to Christians, you raise the
+	price of pork.
+
+LORENZO	I shall answer that better to the commonwealth than
+	you can the getting up of the negro's belly: the
+	Moor is with child by you, Launcelot.
+
+LAUNCELOT	It is much that the Moor should be more than reason:
+	but if she be less than an honest woman, she is
+	indeed more than I took her for.
+
+LORENZO	How every fool can play upon the word! I think the
+	best grace of wit will shortly turn into silence,
+	and discourse grow commendable in none only but
+	parrots. Go in, sirrah; bid them prepare for dinner.
+
+LAUNCELOT	That is done, sir; they have all stomachs.
+
+LORENZO	Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper are you! then bid
+	them prepare dinner.
+
+LAUNCELOT	That is done too, sir; only 'cover' is the word.
+
+LORENZO	Will you cover then, sir?
+
+LAUNCELOT	Not so, sir, neither; I know my duty.
+
+LORENZO	Yet more quarrelling with occasion! Wilt thou show
+	the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant? I pray
+	tree, understand a plain man in his plain meaning:
+	go to thy fellows; bid them cover the table, serve
+	in the meat, and we will come in to dinner.
+
+LAUNCELOT	For the table, sir, it shall be served in; for the
+	meat, sir, it shall be covered; for your coming in
+	to dinner, sir, why, let it be as humours and
+	conceits shall govern.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LORENZO	O dear discretion, how his words are suited!
+	The fool hath planted in his memory
+	An army of good words; and I do know
+	A many fools, that stand in better place,
+	Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word
+	Defy the matter. How cheerest thou, Jessica?
+	And now, good sweet, say thy opinion,
+	How dost thou like the Lord Bassanio's wife?
+
+JESSICA	Past all expressing. It is very meet
+	The Lord Bassanio live an upright life;
+	For, having such a blessing in his lady,
+	He finds the joys of heaven here on earth;
+	And if on earth he do not mean it, then
+	In reason he should never come to heaven
+	Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match
+	And on the wager lay two earthly women,
+	And Portia one, there must be something else
+	Pawn'd with the other, for the poor rude world
+	Hath not her fellow.
+
+LORENZO	Even such a husband
+	Hast thou of me as she is for a wife.
+
+JESSICA	Nay, but ask my opinion too of that.
+
+LORENZO	I will anon: first, let us go to dinner.
+
+JESSICA	Nay, let me praise you while I have a stomach.
+
+LORENZO	No, pray thee, let it serve for table-talk;
+'	Then, howso'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things
+	I shall digest it.
+
+JESSICA	                  Well, I'll set you forth.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Venice. A court of justice.
+
+
+	[Enter the DUKE, the Magnificoes, ANTONIO, BASSANIO,
+	GRATIANO, SALERIO, and others]
+
+DUKE	What, is Antonio here?
+
+ANTONIO	Ready, so please your grace.
+
+DUKE	I am sorry for thee: thou art come to answer
+	A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch
+	uncapable of pity, void and empty
+	From any dram of mercy.
+
+ANTONIO	I have heard
+	Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify
+	His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate
+	And that no lawful means can carry me
+	Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose
+	My patience to his fury, and am arm'd
+	To suffer, with a quietness of spirit,
+	The very tyranny and rage of his.
+
+DUKE	Go one, and call the Jew into the court.
+
+SALERIO	He is ready at the door: he comes, my lord.
+
+	[Enter SHYLOCK]
+
+DUKE	Make room, and let him stand before our face.
+	Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too,
+	That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice
+	To the last hour of act; and then 'tis thought
+	Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse more strange
+	Than is thy strange apparent cruelty;
+	And where thou now exact'st the penalty,
+	Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
+	Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture,
+	But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
+	Forgive a moiety of the principal;
+	Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,
+	That have of late so huddled on his back,
+	Enow to press a royal merchant down
+	And pluck commiseration of his state
+	From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint,
+	From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd
+	To offices of tender courtesy.
+	We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.
+
+SHYLOCK	I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose;
+	And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn
+	To have the due and forfeit of my bond:
+	If you deny it, let the danger light
+	Upon your charter and your city's freedom.
+	You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have
+	A weight of carrion flesh than to receive
+	Three thousand ducats: I'll not answer that:
+	But, say, it is my humour: is it answer'd?
+	What if my house be troubled with a rat
+	And I be pleased to give ten thousand ducats
+	To have it baned? What, are you answer'd yet?
+	Some men there are love not a gaping pig;
+	Some, that are mad if they behold a cat;
+	And others, when the bagpipe sings i' the nose,
+	Cannot contain their urine: for affection,
+	Mistress of passion, sways it to the mood
+	Of what it likes or loathes. Now, for your answer:
+	As there is no firm reason to be render'd,
+	Why he cannot abide a gaping pig;
+	Why he, a harmless necessary cat;
+	Why he, a woollen bagpipe; but of force
+	Must yield to such inevitable shame
+	As to offend, himself being offended;
+	So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
+	More than a lodged hate and a certain loathing
+	I bear Antonio, that I follow thus
+	A losing suit against him. Are you answer'd?
+
+BASSANIO	This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,
+	To excuse the current of thy cruelty.
+
+SHYLOCK	I am not bound to please thee with my answers.
+
+BASSANIO	Do all men kill the things they do not love?
+
+SHYLOCK	Hates any man the thing he would not kill?
+
+BASSANIO	Every offence is not a hate at first.
+
+SHYLOCK	What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice?
+
+ANTONIO	I pray you, think you question with the Jew:
+	You may as well go stand upon the beach
+	And bid the main flood bate his usual height;
+	You may as well use question with the wolf
+	Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb;
+	You may as well forbid the mountain pines
+	To wag their high tops and to make no noise,
+	When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven;
+	You may as well do anything most hard,
+	As seek to soften that--than which what's harder?--
+	His Jewish heart: therefore, I do beseech you,
+	Make no more offers, use no farther means,
+	But with all brief and plain conveniency
+	Let me have judgment and the Jew his will.
+
+BASSANIO	For thy three thousand ducats here is six.
+
+SHYLOCK	What judgment shall I dread, doing
+	Were in six parts and every part a ducat,
+	I would not draw them; I would have my bond.
+
+DUKE	How shalt thou hope for mercy, rendering none?
+
+SHYLOCK	What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong?
+	You have among you many a purchased slave,
+	Which, like your asses and your dogs and mules,
+	You use in abject and in slavish parts,
+	Because you bought them: shall I say to you,
+	Let them be free, marry them to your heirs?
+	Why sweat they under burthens? let their beds
+	Be made as soft as yours and let their palates
+	Be season'd with such viands? You will answer
+	'The slaves are ours:' so do I answer you:
+	The pound of flesh, which I demand of him,
+	Is dearly bought; 'tis mine and I will have it.
+	If you deny me, fie upon your law!
+	There is no force in the decrees of Venice.
+	I stand for judgment: answer; shall I have it?
+
+DUKE	Upon my power I may dismiss this court,
+	Unless Bellario, a learned doctor,
+	Whom I have sent for to determine this,
+	Come here to-day.
+
+SALERIO	                  My lord, here stays without
+	A messenger with letters from the doctor,
+	New come from Padua.
+
+DUKE	Bring us the letter; call the messenger.
+
+BASSANIO	Good cheer, Antonio! What, man, courage yet!
+	The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones and all,
+	Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood.
+
+ANTONIO	I am a tainted wether of the flock,
+	Meetest for death: the weakest kind of fruit
+	Drops earliest to the ground; and so let me
+	You cannot better be employ'd, Bassanio,
+	Than to live still and write mine epitaph.
+
+	[Enter NERISSA, dressed like a lawyer's clerk]
+
+DUKE	Came you from Padua, from Bellario?
+
+NERISSA	From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace.
+
+	[Presenting a letter]
+
+BASSANIO	Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?
+
+SHYLOCK	To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there.
+
+GRATIANO	Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew,
+	Thou makest thy knife keen; but no metal can,
+	No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness
+	Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee?
+
+SHYLOCK	No, none that thou hast wit enough to make.
+
+GRATIANO	O, be thou damn'd, inexecrable dog!
+	And for thy life let justice be accused.
+	Thou almost makest me waver in my faith
+	To hold opinion with Pythagoras,
+	That souls of animals infuse themselves
+	Into the trunks of men: thy currish spirit
+	Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human slaughter,
+	Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet,
+	And, whilst thou lay'st in thy unhallow'd dam,
+	Infused itself in thee; for thy desires
+	Are wolvish, bloody, starved and ravenous.
+
+SHYLOCK	Till thou canst rail the seal from off my bond,
+	Thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud:
+	Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall
+	To cureless ruin. I stand here for law.
+
+DUKE	This letter from Bellario doth commend
+	A young and learned doctor to our court.
+	Where is he?
+
+NERISSA	                  He attendeth here hard by,
+	To know your answer, whether you'll admit him.
+
+DUKE	With all my heart. Some three or four of you
+	Go give him courteous conduct to this place.
+	Meantime the court shall hear Bellario's letter.
+
+Clerk	[Reads]
+
+	Your grace shall understand that at the receipt of
+	your letter I am very sick: but in the instant that
+	your messenger came, in loving visitation was with
+	me a young doctor of Rome; his name is Balthasar. I
+	acquainted him with the cause in controversy between
+	the Jew and Antonio the merchant: we turned o'er
+	many books together: he is furnished with my
+	opinion; which, bettered with his own learning, the
+	greatness whereof I cannot enough commend, comes
+	with him, at my importunity, to fill up your grace's
+	request in my stead. I beseech you, let his lack of
+	years be no impediment to let him lack a reverend
+	estimation; for I never knew so young a body with so
+	old a head. I leave him to your gracious
+	acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his
+	commendation.
+
+DUKE	You hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes:
+	And here, I take it, is the doctor come.
+
+	[Enter PORTIA, dressed like a doctor of laws]
+
+	Give me your hand. Come you from old Bellario?
+
+PORTIA	I did, my lord.
+
+DUKE	                  You are welcome: take your place.
+	Are you acquainted with the difference
+	That holds this present question in the court?
+
+PORTIA	I am informed thoroughly of the cause.
+	Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew?
+
+DUKE	Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.
+
+PORTIA	Is your name Shylock?
+
+SHYLOCK	Shylock is my name.
+
+PORTIA	Of a strange nature is the suit you follow;
+	Yet in such rule that the Venetian law
+	Cannot impugn you as you do proceed.
+	You stand within his danger, do you not?
+
+ANTONIO	Ay, so he says.
+
+PORTIA	                  Do you confess the bond?
+
+ANTONIO	I do.
+
+PORTIA	    Then must the Jew be merciful.
+
+SHYLOCK	On what compulsion must I? tell me that.
+
+PORTIA	The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
+	It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
+	Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;
+	It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
+	'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
+	The throned monarch better than his crown;
+	His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
+	The attribute to awe and majesty,
+	Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
+	But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
+	It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
+	It is an attribute to God himself;
+	And earthly power doth then show likest God's
+	When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
+	Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
+	That, in the course of justice, none of us
+	Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
+	And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
+	The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
+	To mitigate the justice of thy plea;
+	Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
+	Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.
+
+SHYLOCK	My deeds upon my head! I crave the law,
+	The penalty and forfeit of my bond.
+
+PORTIA	Is he not able to discharge the money?
+
+BASSANIO	Yes, here I tender it for him in the court;
+	Yea, twice the sum: if that will not suffice,
+	I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er,
+	On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart:
+	If this will not suffice, it must appear
+	That malice bears down truth. And I beseech you,
+	Wrest once the law to your authority:
+	To do a great right, do a little wrong,
+	And curb this cruel devil of his will.
+
+PORTIA	It must not be; there is no power in Venice
+	Can alter a decree established:
+	'Twill be recorded for a precedent,
+	And many an error by the same example
+	Will rush into the state: it cannot be.
+
+SHYLOCK	A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel!
+	O wise young judge, how I do honour thee!
+
+PORTIA	I pray you, let me look upon the bond.
+
+SHYLOCK	Here 'tis, most reverend doctor, here it is.
+
+PORTIA	Shylock, there's thrice thy money offer'd thee.
+
+SHYLOCK	An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven:
+	Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?
+	No, not for Venice.
+
+PORTIA	Why, this bond is forfeit;
+	And lawfully by this the Jew may claim
+	A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off
+	Nearest the merchant's heart. Be merciful:
+	Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond.
+
+SHYLOCK	When it is paid according to the tenor.
+	It doth appear you are a worthy judge;
+	You know the law, your exposition
+	Hath been most sound: I charge you by the law,
+	Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,
+	Proceed to judgment: by my soul I swear
+	There is no power in the tongue of man
+	To alter me: I stay here on my bond.
+
+ANTONIO	Most heartily I do beseech the court
+	To give the judgment.
+
+PORTIA	Why then, thus it is:
+	You must prepare your bosom for his knife.
+
+SHYLOCK	O noble judge! O excellent young man!
+
+PORTIA	For the intent and purpose of the law
+	Hath full relation to the penalty,
+	Which here appeareth due upon the bond.
+
+SHYLOCK	'Tis very true: O wise and upright judge!
+	How much more elder art thou than thy looks!
+
+PORTIA	Therefore lay bare your bosom.
+
+SHYLOCK	Ay, his breast:
+	So says the bond: doth it not, noble judge?
+	'Nearest his heart:' those are the very words.
+
+PORTIA	It is so. Are there balance here to weigh
+	The flesh?
+
+SHYLOCK	         I have them ready.
+
+PORTIA	Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge,
+	To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death.
+
+SHYLOCK	Is it so nominated in the bond?
+
+PORTIA	It is not so express'd: but what of that?
+	'Twere good you do so much for charity.
+
+SHYLOCK	I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond.
+
+PORTIA	You, merchant, have you any thing to say?
+
+ANTONIO	But little: I am arm'd and well prepared.
+	Give me your hand, Bassanio: fare you well!
+	Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you;
+	For herein Fortune shows herself more kind
+	Than is her custom: it is still her use
+	To let the wretched man outlive his wealth,
+	To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow
+	An age of poverty; from which lingering penance
+	Of such misery doth she cut me off.
+	Commend me to your honourable wife:
+	Tell her the process of Antonio's end;
+	Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death;
+	And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge
+	Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
+	Repent but you that you shall lose your friend,
+	And he repents not that he pays your debt;
+	For if the Jew do cut but deep enough,
+	I'll pay it presently with all my heart.
+
+BASSANIO	Antonio, I am married to a wife
+	Which is as dear to me as life itself;
+	But life itself, my wife, and all the world,
+	Are not with me esteem'd above thy life:
+	I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all
+	Here to this devil, to deliver you.
+
+PORTIA	Your wife would give you little thanks for that,
+	If she were by, to hear you make the offer.
+
+GRATIANO	I have a wife, whom, I protest, I love:
+	I would she were in heaven, so she could
+	Entreat some power to change this currish Jew.
+
+NERISSA	'Tis well you offer it behind her back;
+	The wish would make else an unquiet house.
+
+SHYLOCK	These be the Christian husbands. I have a daughter;
+	Would any of the stock of Barrabas
+	Had been her husband rather than a Christian!
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	We trifle time: I pray thee, pursue sentence.
+
+PORTIA	A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine:
+	The court awards it, and the law doth give it.
+
+SHYLOCK	Most rightful judge!
+
+PORTIA	And you must cut this flesh from off his breast:
+	The law allows it, and the court awards it.
+
+SHYLOCK	Most learned judge! A sentence! Come, prepare!
+
+PORTIA	Tarry a little; there is something else.
+	This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood;
+	The words expressly are 'a pound of flesh:'
+	Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh;
+	But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
+	One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
+	Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate
+	Unto the state of Venice.
+
+GRATIANO	O upright judge! Mark, Jew: O learned judge!
+
+SHYLOCK	Is that the law?
+
+PORTIA	                  Thyself shalt see the act:
+	For, as thou urgest justice, be assured
+	Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest.
+
+GRATIANO	O learned judge! Mark, Jew: a learned judge!
+
+SHYLOCK	I take this offer, then; pay the bond thrice
+	And let the Christian go.
+
+BASSANIO	Here is the money.
+
+PORTIA	Soft!
+	The Jew shall have all justice; soft! no haste:
+	He shall have nothing but the penalty.
+
+GRATIANO	O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge!
+
+PORTIA	Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh.
+	Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more
+	But just a pound of flesh: if thou cut'st more
+	Or less than a just pound, be it but so much
+	As makes it light or heavy in the substance,
+	Or the division of the twentieth part
+	Of one poor scruple, nay, if the scale do turn
+	But in the estimation of a hair,
+	Thou diest and all thy goods are confiscate.
+
+GRATIANO	A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew!
+	Now, infidel, I have you on the hip.
+
+PORTIA	Why doth the Jew pause? take thy forfeiture.
+
+SHYLOCK	Give me my principal, and let me go.
+
+BASSANIO	I have it ready for thee; here it is.
+
+PORTIA	He hath refused it in the open court:
+	He shall have merely justice and his bond.
+
+GRATIANO	A Daniel, still say I, a second Daniel!
+	I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.
+
+SHYLOCK	Shall I not have barely my principal?
+
+PORTIA	Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture,
+	To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.
+
+SHYLOCK	Why, then the devil give him good of it!
+	I'll stay no longer question.
+
+PORTIA	Tarry, Jew:
+	The law hath yet another hold on you.
+	It is enacted in the laws of Venice,
+	If it be proved against an alien
+	That by direct or indirect attempts
+	He seek the life of any citizen,
+	The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive
+	Shall seize one half his goods; the other half
+	Comes to the privy coffer of the state;
+	And the offender's life lies in the mercy
+	Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice.
+	In which predicament, I say, thou stand'st;
+	For it appears, by manifest proceeding,
+	That indirectly and directly too
+	Thou hast contrived against the very life
+	Of the defendant; and thou hast incurr'd
+	The danger formerly by me rehearsed.
+	Down therefore and beg mercy of the duke.
+
+GRATIANO	Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself:
+	And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state,
+	Thou hast not left the value of a cord;
+	Therefore thou must be hang'd at the state's charge.
+
+DUKE	That thou shalt see the difference of our spirits,
+	I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it:
+	For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's;
+	The other half comes to the general state,
+	Which humbleness may drive unto a fine.
+
+PORTIA	Ay, for the state, not for Antonio.
+
+SHYLOCK	Nay, take my life and all; pardon not that:
+	You take my house when you do take the prop
+	That doth sustain my house; you take my life
+	When you do take the means whereby I live.
+
+PORTIA	What mercy can you render him, Antonio?
+
+GRATIANO	A halter gratis; nothing else, for God's sake.
+
+ANTONIO	So please my lord the duke and all the court
+	To quit the fine for one half of his goods,
+	I am content; so he will let me have
+	The other half in use, to render it,
+	Upon his death, unto the gentleman
+	That lately stole his daughter:
+	Two things provided more, that, for this favour,
+	He presently become a Christian;
+	The other, that he do record a gift,
+	Here in the court, of all he dies possess'd,
+	Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter.
+
+DUKE	He shall do this, or else I do recant
+	The pardon that I late pronounced here.
+
+PORTIA	Art thou contented, Jew? what dost thou say?
+
+SHYLOCK	I am content.
+
+PORTIA	                  Clerk, draw a deed of gift.
+
+SHYLOCK	I pray you, give me leave to go from hence;
+	I am not well: send the deed after me,
+	And I will sign it.
+
+DUKE	Get thee gone, but do it.
+
+GRATIANO	In christening shalt thou have two god-fathers:
+	Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more,
+	To bring thee to the gallows, not the font.
+
+	[Exit SHYLOCK]
+
+DUKE	Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner.
+
+PORTIA	I humbly do desire your grace of pardon:
+	I must away this night toward Padua,
+	And it is meet I presently set forth.
+
+DUKE	I am sorry that your leisure serves you not.
+	Antonio, gratify this gentleman,
+	For, in my mind, you are much bound to him.
+
+	[Exeunt Duke and his train]
+
+BASSANIO	Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend
+	Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted
+	Of grievous penalties; in lieu whereof,
+	Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew,
+	We freely cope your courteous pains withal.
+
+ANTONIO	And stand indebted, over and above,
+	In love and service to you evermore.
+
+PORTIA	He is well paid that is well satisfied;
+	And I, delivering you, am satisfied
+	And therein do account myself well paid:
+	My mind was never yet more mercenary.
+	I pray you, know me when we meet again:
+	I wish you well, and so I take my leave.
+
+BASSANIO	Dear sir, of force I must attempt you further:
+	Take some remembrance of us, as a tribute,
+	Not as a fee: grant me two things, I pray you,
+	Not to deny me, and to pardon me.
+
+PORTIA	You press me far, and therefore I will yield.
+
+	[To ANTONIO]
+
+	Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your sake;
+
+	[To BASSANIO]
+
+	And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you:
+	Do not draw back your hand; I'll take no more;
+	And you in love shall not deny me this.
+
+BASSANIO	This ring, good sir, alas, it is a trifle!
+	I will not shame myself to give you this.
+
+PORTIA	I will have nothing else but only this;
+	And now methinks I have a mind to it.
+
+BASSANIO	There's more depends on this than on the value.
+	The dearest ring in Venice will I give you,
+	And find it out by proclamation:
+	Only for this, I pray you, pardon me.
+
+PORTIA	I see, sir, you are liberal in offers
+	You taught me first to beg; and now methinks
+	You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd.
+
+BASSANIO	Good sir, this ring was given me by my wife;
+	And when she put it on, she made me vow
+	That I should neither sell nor give nor lose it.
+
+PORTIA	That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts.
+	An if your wife be not a mad-woman,
+	And know how well I have deserved the ring,
+	She would not hold out enemy for ever,
+	For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!
+
+	[Exeunt Portia and Nerissa]
+
+ANTONIO	My Lord Bassanio, let him have the ring:
+	Let his deservings and my love withal
+	Be valued against your wife's commandment.
+
+BASSANIO	Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him;
+	Give him the ring, and bring him, if thou canst,
+	Unto Antonio's house: away! make haste.
+
+	[Exit Gratiano]
+
+	Come, you and I will thither presently;
+	And in the morning early will we both
+	Fly toward Belmont: come, Antonio.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter PORTIA and NERISSA]
+
+PORTIA	Inquire the Jew's house out, give him this deed
+	And let him sign it: we'll away to-night
+	And be a day before our husbands home:
+	This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.
+
+	[Enter GRATIANO]
+
+GRATIANO	Fair sir, you are well o'erta'en
+	My Lord Bassanio upon more advice
+	Hath sent you here this ring, and doth entreat
+	Your company at dinner.
+
+PORTIA	That cannot be:
+	His ring I do accept most thankfully:
+	And so, I pray you, tell him: furthermore,
+	I pray you, show my youth old Shylock's house.
+
+GRATIANO	That will I do.
+
+NERISSA	                  Sir, I would speak with you.
+
+	[Aside to PORTIA]
+
+	I'll see if I can get my husband's ring,
+	Which I did make him swear to keep for ever.
+
+PORTIA	[Aside to NERISSA]  Thou mayst, I warrant.
+	We shall have old swearing
+	That they did give the rings away to men;
+	But we'll outface them, and outswear them too.
+
+	[Aloud]
+
+	Away! make haste: thou knowist where I will tarry.
+
+NERISSA	Come, good sir, will you show me to this house?
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Belmont. Avenue to PORTIA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter LORENZO and JESSICA]
+
+LORENZO	The moon shines bright: in such a night as this,
+	When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees
+	And they did make no noise, in such a night
+	Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls
+	And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,
+	Where Cressid lay that night.
+
+JESSICA	In such a night
+	Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew
+	And saw the lion's shadow ere himself
+	And ran dismay'd away.
+
+LORENZO	In such a night
+	Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
+	Upon the wild sea banks and waft her love
+	To come again to Carthage.
+
+JESSICA	In such a night
+	Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs
+	That did renew old AEson.
+
+LORENZO	In such a night
+	Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew
+	And with an unthrift love did run from Venice
+	As far as Belmont.
+
+JESSICA	                  In such a night
+	Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well,
+	Stealing her soul with many vows of faith
+	And ne'er a true one.
+
+LORENZO	In such a night
+	Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
+	Slander her love, and he forgave it her.
+
+JESSICA	I would out-night you, did no body come;
+	But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.
+
+	[Enter STEPHANO]
+
+LORENZO	Who comes so fast in silence of the night?
+
+STEPHANO	A friend.
+
+LORENZO	A friend! what friend? your name, I pray you, friend?
+
+STEPHANO	Stephano is my name; and I bring word
+	My mistress will before the break of day
+	Be here at Belmont; she doth stray about
+	By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays
+	For happy wedlock hours.
+
+LORENZO	Who comes with her?
+
+STEPHANO	None but a holy hermit and her maid.
+	I pray you, is my master yet return'd?
+
+LORENZO	He is not, nor we have not heard from him.
+	But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,
+	And ceremoniously let us prepare
+	Some welcome for the mistress of the house.
+
+	[Enter LAUNCELOT]
+
+LAUNCELOT	Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! sola, sola!
+
+LORENZO	Who calls?
+
+LAUNCELOT	Sola! did you see Master Lorenzo?
+	Master Lorenzo, sola, sola!
+
+LORENZO	Leave hollaing, man: here.
+
+LAUNCELOT	Sola! where? where?
+
+LORENZO	Here.
+
+LAUNCELOT	Tell him there's a post come from my master, with
+	his horn full of good news: my master will be here
+	ere morning.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LORENZO	Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming.
+	And yet no matter: why should we go in?
+	My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you,
+	Within the house, your mistress is at hand;
+	And bring your music forth into the air.
+
+	[Exit Stephano]
+
+	How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
+	Here will we sit and let the sounds of music
+	Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night
+	Become the touches of sweet harmony.
+	Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven
+	Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold:
+	There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st
+	But in his motion like an angel sings,
+	Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins;
+	Such harmony is in immortal souls;
+	But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
+	Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
+
+	[Enter Musicians]
+
+	Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn!
+	With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
+	And draw her home with music.
+
+	[Music]
+
+JESSICA	I am never merry when I hear sweet music.
+
+LORENZO	The reason is, your spirits are attentive:
+	For do but note a wild and wanton herd,
+	Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,
+	Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
+	Which is the hot condition of their blood;
+	If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
+	Or any air of music touch their ears,
+	You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
+	Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze
+	By the sweet power of music: therefore the poet
+	Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones and floods;
+	Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage,
+	But music for the time doth change his nature.
+	The man that hath no music in himself,
+	Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
+	Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils;
+	The motions of his spirit are dull as night
+	And his affections dark as Erebus:
+	Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.
+
+	[Enter PORTIA and NERISSA]
+
+PORTIA	That light we see is burning in my hall.
+	How far that little candle throws his beams!
+	So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
+
+NERISSA	When the moon shone, we did not see the candle.
+
+PORTIA	So doth the greater glory dim the less:
+	A substitute shines brightly as a king
+	Unto the king be by, and then his state
+	Empties itself, as doth an inland brook
+	Into the main of waters. Music! hark!
+
+NERISSA	It is your music, madam, of the house.
+
+PORTIA	Nothing is good, I see, without respect:
+	Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.
+
+NERISSA	Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.
+
+PORTIA	The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark,
+	When neither is attended, and I think
+	The nightingale, if she should sing by day,
+	When every goose is cackling, would be thought
+	No better a musician than the wren.
+	How many things by season season'd are
+	To their right praise and true perfection!
+	Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion
+	And would not be awaked.
+
+	[Music ceases]
+
+LORENZO	That is the voice,
+	Or I am much deceived, of Portia.
+
+PORTIA	He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo,
+	By the bad voice.
+
+LORENZO	                  Dear lady, welcome home.
+
+PORTIA	We have been praying for our husbands' healths,
+	Which speed, we hope, the better for our words.
+	Are they return'd?
+
+LORENZO	                  Madam, they are not yet;
+	But there is come a messenger before,
+	To signify their coming.
+
+PORTIA	Go in, Nerissa;
+	Give order to my servants that they take
+	No note at all of our being absent hence;
+	Nor you, Lorenzo; Jessica, nor you.
+
+	[A tucket sounds]
+
+LORENZO	Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet:
+	We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not.
+
+PORTIA	This night methinks is but the daylight sick;
+	It looks a little paler: 'tis a day,
+	Such as the day is when the sun is hid.
+
+	[Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and
+	their followers]
+
+BASSANIO	We should hold day with the Antipodes,
+	If you would walk in absence of the sun.
+
+PORTIA	Let me give light, but let me not be light;
+	For a light wife doth make a heavy husband,
+	And never be Bassanio so for me:
+	But God sort all! You are welcome home, my lord.
+
+BASSANIO	I thank you, madam. Give welcome to my friend.
+	This is the man, this is Antonio,
+	To whom I am so infinitely bound.
+
+PORTIA	You should in all sense be much bound to him.
+	For, as I hear, he was much bound for you.
+
+ANTONIO	No more than I am well acquitted of.
+
+PORTIA	Sir, you are very welcome to our house:
+	It must appear in other ways than words,
+	Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy.
+
+GRATIANO	[To NERISSA]  By yonder moon I swear you do me wrong;
+	In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk:
+	Would he were gelt that had it, for my part,
+	Since you do take it, love, so much at heart.
+
+PORTIA	A quarrel, ho, already! what's the matter?
+
+GRATIANO	About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring
+	That she did give me, whose posy was
+	For all the world like cutler's poetry
+	Upon a knife, 'Love me, and leave me not.'
+
+NERISSA	What talk you of the posy or the value?
+	You swore to me, when I did give it you,
+	That you would wear it till your hour of death
+	And that it should lie with you in your grave:
+	Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths,
+	You should have been respective and have kept it.
+	Gave it a judge's clerk! no, God's my judge,
+	The clerk will ne'er wear hair on's face that had it.
+
+GRATIANO	He will, an if he live to be a man.
+
+NERISSA	Ay, if a woman live to be a man.
+
+GRATIANO	Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth,
+	A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy,
+	No higher than thyself; the judge's clerk,
+	A prating boy, that begg'd it as a fee:
+	I could not for my heart deny it him.
+
+PORTIA	You were to blame, I must be plain with you,
+	To part so slightly with your wife's first gift:
+	A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger
+	And so riveted with faith unto your flesh.
+	I gave my love a ring and made him swear
+	Never to part with it; and here he stands;
+	I dare be sworn for him he would not leave it
+	Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth
+	That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano,
+	You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief:
+	An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it.
+
+BASSANIO	[Aside]  Why, I were best to cut my left hand off
+	And swear I lost the ring defending it.
+
+GRATIANO	My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away
+	Unto the judge that begg'd it and indeed
+	Deserved it too; and then the boy, his clerk,
+	That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine;
+	And neither man nor master would take aught
+	But the two rings.
+
+PORTIA	What ring gave you my lord?
+	Not that, I hope, which you received of me.
+
+BASSANIO	If I could add a lie unto a fault,
+	I would deny it; but you see my finger
+	Hath not the ring upon it; it is gone.
+
+PORTIA	Even so void is your false heart of truth.
+	By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed
+	Until I see the ring.
+
+NERISSA	Nor I in yours
+	Till I again see mine.
+
+BASSANIO	Sweet Portia,
+	If you did know to whom I gave the ring,
+	If you did know for whom I gave the ring
+	And would conceive for what I gave the ring
+	And how unwillingly I left the ring,
+	When nought would be accepted but the ring,
+	You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
+
+PORTIA	If you had known the virtue of the ring,
+	Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,
+	Or your own honour to contain the ring,
+	You would not then have parted with the ring.
+	What man is there so much unreasonable,
+	If you had pleased to have defended it
+	With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty
+	To urge the thing held as a ceremony?
+	Nerissa teaches me what to believe:
+	I'll die for't but some woman had the ring.
+
+BASSANIO	No, by my honour, madam, by my soul,
+	No woman had it, but a civil doctor,
+	Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me
+	And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny him
+	And suffer'd him to go displeased away;
+	Even he that did uphold the very life
+	Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady?
+	I was enforced to send it after him;
+	I was beset with shame and courtesy;
+	My honour would not let ingratitude
+	So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady;
+	For, by these blessed candles of the night,
+	Had you been there, I think you would have begg'd
+	The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.
+
+PORTIA	Let not that doctor e'er come near my house:
+	Since he hath got the jewel that I loved,
+	And that which you did swear to keep for me,
+	I will become as liberal as you;
+	I'll not deny him any thing I have,
+	No, not my body nor my husband's bed:
+	Know him I shall, I am well sure of it:
+	Lie not a night from home; watch me like Argus:
+	If you do not, if I be left alone,
+	Now, by mine honour, which is yet mine own,
+	I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow.
+
+NERISSA	And I his clerk; therefore be well advised
+	How you do leave me to mine own protection.
+
+GRATIANO	Well, do you so; let not me take him, then;
+	For if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.
+
+ANTONIO	I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels.
+
+PORTIA	Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome notwithstanding.
+
+BASSANIO	Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong;
+	And, in the hearing of these many friends,
+	I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes,
+	Wherein I see myself--
+
+PORTIA	Mark you but that!
+	In both my eyes he doubly sees himself;
+	In each eye, one: swear by your double self,
+	And there's an oath of credit.
+
+BASSANIO	Nay, but hear me:
+	Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear
+	I never more will break an oath with thee.
+
+ANTONIO	I once did lend my body for his wealth;
+	Which, but for him that had your husband's ring,
+	Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again,
+	My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord
+	Will never more break faith advisedly.
+
+PORTIA	Then you shall be his surety. Give him this
+	And bid him keep it better than the other.
+
+ANTONIO	Here, Lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring.
+
+BASSANIO	By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor!
+
+PORTIA	I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio;
+	For, by this ring, the doctor lay with me.
+
+NERISSA	And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano;
+	For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk,
+	In lieu of this last night did lie with me.
+
+GRATIANO	Why, this is like the mending of highways
+	In summer, where the ways are fair enough:
+	What, are we cuckolds ere we have deserved it?
+
+PORTIA	Speak not so grossly. You are all amazed:
+	Here is a letter; read it at your leisure;
+	It comes from Padua, from Bellario:
+	There you shall find that Portia was the doctor,
+	Nerissa there her clerk: Lorenzo here
+	Shall witness I set forth as soon as you
+	And even but now return'd; I have not yet
+	Enter'd my house. Antonio, you are welcome;
+	And I have better news in store for you
+	Than you expect: unseal this letter soon;
+	There you shall find three of your argosies
+	Are richly come to harbour suddenly:
+	You shall not know by what strange accident
+	I chanced on this letter.
+
+ANTONIO	I am dumb.
+
+BASSANIO	Were you the doctor and I knew you not?
+
+GRATIANO	Were you the clerk that is to make me cuckold?
+
+NERISSA	Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it,
+	Unless he live until he be a man.
+
+BASSANIO	Sweet doctor, you shall be my bed-fellow:
+	When I am absent, then lie with my wife.
+
+ANTONIO	Sweet lady, you have given me life and living;
+	For here I read for certain that my ships
+	Are safely come to road.
+
+PORTIA	How now, Lorenzo!
+	My clerk hath some good comforts too for you.
+
+NERISSA	Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee.
+	There do I give to you and Jessica,
+	From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift,
+	After his death, of all he dies possess'd of.
+
+LORENZO	Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
+	Of starved people.
+
+PORTIA	                  It is almost morning,
+	And yet I am sure you are not satisfied
+	Of these events at full. Let us go in;
+	And charge us there upon inter'gatories,
+	And we will answer all things faithfully.
+
+GRATIANO	Let it be so: the first inter'gatory
+	That my Nerissa shall be sworn on is,
+	Whether till the next night she had rather stay,
+	Or go to bed now, being two hours to day:
+	But were the day come, I should wish it dark,
+	That I were couching with the doctor's clerk.
+	Well, while I live I'll fear no other thing
+	So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+SIR JOHN FALSTAFF	(FALSTAFF:)
+
+FENTON	a gentleman.
+
+SHALLOW	a country justice.
+
+SLENDER	cousin to Shallow.
+
+
+FORD	|
+	|  two gentlemen dwelling at Windsor.
+PAGE	|
+
+
+WILLIAM PAGE	a boy, son to Page.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	a Welsh parson.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	a French physician.
+
+	Host of the Garter Inn. (Host:)
+
+
+BARDOLPH	|
+	|
+PISTOL	|  sharpers attending on Falstaff.
+	|
+NYM	|
+
+
+ROBIN	page to Falstaff.
+
+SIMPLE	servant to Slender.
+
+RUGBY	servant to Doctor Caius.
+
+MISTRESS FORD:
+
+MISTRESS PAGE:
+
+ANNE PAGE	her daughter.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	servant to Doctor Caius.
+
+	Servants to Page, Ford, &c.
+	(Servant:)
+	(First Servant:)
+	(Second Servant:)
+
+
+SCENE	Windsor, and the neighbourhood.
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Windsor. Before PAGE's house.
+
+
+	[Enter SHALLOW, SLENDER, and SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+SHALLOW	Sir Hugh, persuade me not; I will make a Star-
+	chamber matter of it: if he were twenty Sir John
+	Falstaffs, he shall not abuse Robert Shallow, esquire.
+
+SLENDER	In the county of Gloucester, justice of peace and
+	'Coram.'
+
+SHALLOW	Ay, cousin Slender, and 'Custalourum.
+
+SLENDER	Ay, and 'Rato-lorum' too; and a gentleman born,
+	master parson; who writes himself 'Armigero,' in any
+	bill, warrant, quittance, or obligation, 'Armigero.'
+
+SHALLOW	Ay, that I do; and have done any time these three
+	hundred years.
+
+SLENDER	All his successors gone before him hath done't; and
+	all his ancestors that come after him may: they may
+	give the dozen white luces in their coat.
+
+SHALLOW	It is an old coat.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	The dozen white louses do become an old coat well;
+	it agrees well, passant; it is a familiar beast to
+	man, and signifies love.
+
+SHALLOW	The luce is the fresh fish; the salt fish is an old coat.
+
+SLENDER	I may quarter, coz.
+
+SHALLOW	You may, by marrying.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	It is marring indeed, if he quarter it.
+
+SHALLOW	Not a whit.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Yes, py'r lady; if he has a quarter of your coat,
+	there is but three skirts for yourself, in my
+	simple conjectures: but that is all one. If Sir
+	John Falstaff have committed disparagements unto
+	you, I am of the church, and will be glad to do my
+	benevolence to make atonements and compremises
+	between you.
+
+SHALLOW	The council shall bear it; it is a riot.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	It is not meet the council hear a riot; there is no
+	fear of Got in a riot: the council, look you, shall
+	desire to hear the fear of Got, and not to hear a
+	riot; take your vizaments in that.
+
+SHALLOW	Ha! o' my life, if I were young again, the sword
+	should end it.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	It is petter that friends is the sword, and end it:
+	and there is also another device in my prain, which
+	peradventure prings goot discretions with it: there
+	is Anne Page, which is daughter to Master Thomas
+	Page, which is pretty virginity.
+
+SLENDER	Mistress Anne Page? She has brown hair, and speaks
+	small like a woman.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	It is that fery person for all the orld, as just as
+	you will desire; and seven hundred pounds of moneys,
+	and gold and silver, is her grandsire upon his
+	death's-bed--Got deliver to a joyful resurrections!
+	--give, when she is able to overtake seventeen years
+	old: it were a goot motion if we leave our pribbles
+	and prabbles, and desire a marriage between Master
+	Abraham and Mistress Anne Page.
+
+SLENDER	Did her grandsire leave her seven hundred pound?
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Ay, and her father is make her a petter penny.
+
+SLENDER	I know the young gentlewoman; she has good gifts.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Seven hundred pounds and possibilities is goot gifts.
+
+SHALLOW	Well, let us see honest Master Page. Is Falstaff there?
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Shall I tell you a lie? I do despise a liar as I do
+	despise one that is false, or as I despise one that
+	is not true. The knight, Sir John, is there; and, I
+	beseech you, be ruled by your well-willers. I will
+	peat the door for Master Page.
+
+	[Knocks]
+
+	What, hoa! Got pless your house here!
+
+PAGE	[Within]  Who's there?
+
+	[Enter PAGE]
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Here is Got's plessing, and your friend, and Justice
+	Shallow; and here young Master Slender, that
+	peradventures shall tell you another tale, if
+	matters grow to your likings.
+
+PAGE	I am glad to see your worships well.
+	I thank you for my venison, Master Shallow.
+
+SHALLOW	Master Page, I am glad to see you: much good do it
+	your good heart! I wished your venison better; it
+	was ill killed. How doth good Mistress Page?--and I
+	thank you always with my heart, la! with my heart.
+
+PAGE	Sir, I thank you.
+
+SHALLOW	Sir, I thank you; by yea and no, I do.
+
+PAGE	I am glad to see you, good Master Slender.
+
+SLENDER	How does your fallow greyhound, sir? I heard say he
+	was outrun on Cotsall.
+
+PAGE	It could not be judged, sir.
+
+SLENDER	You'll not confess, you'll not confess.
+
+SHALLOW	That he will not. 'Tis your fault, 'tis your fault;
+	'tis a good dog.
+
+PAGE	A cur, sir.
+
+SHALLOW	Sir, he's a good dog, and a fair dog: can there be
+	more said? he is good and fair. Is Sir John
+	Falstaff here?
+
+PAGE	Sir, he is within; and I would I could do a good
+	office between you.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	It is spoke as a Christians ought to speak.
+
+SHALLOW	He hath wronged me, Master Page.
+
+PAGE	Sir, he doth in some sort confess it.
+
+SHALLOW	If it be confessed, it is not redress'd: is not that
+	so, Master Page? He hath wronged me; indeed he
+	hath, at a word, he hath, believe me: Robert
+	Shallow, esquire, saith, he is wronged.
+
+PAGE	Here comes Sir John.
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF, BARDOLPH, NYM, and PISTOL]
+
+FALSTAFF	Now, Master Shallow, you'll complain of me to the king?
+
+SHALLOW	Knight, you have beaten my men, killed my deer, and
+	broke open my lodge.
+
+FALSTAFF	But not kissed your keeper's daughter?
+
+SHALLOW	Tut, a pin! this shall be answered.
+
+FALSTAFF	I will answer it straight; I have done all this.
+	That is now answered.
+
+SHALLOW	The council shall know this.
+
+FALSTAFF	'Twere better for you if it were known in counsel:
+	you'll be laughed at.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Pauca verba, Sir John; goot worts.
+
+FALSTAFF	Good worts! good cabbage. Slender, I broke your
+	head: what matter have you against me?
+
+SLENDER	Marry, sir, I have matter in my head against you;
+	and against your cony-catching rascals, Bardolph,
+	Nym, and Pistol.
+
+BARDOLPH	You Banbury cheese!
+
+SLENDER	Ay, it is no matter.
+
+PISTOL	How now, Mephostophilus!
+
+SLENDER	Ay, it is no matter.
+
+NYM	Slice, I say! pauca, pauca: slice! that's my humour.
+
+SLENDER	Where's Simple, my man? Can you tell, cousin?
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Peace, I pray you. Now let us understand. There is
+	three umpires in this matter, as I understand; that
+	is, Master Page, fidelicet Master Page; and there is
+	myself, fidelicet myself; and the three party is,
+	lastly and finally, mine host of the Garter.
+
+PAGE	We three, to hear it and end it between them.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Fery goot: I will make a prief of it in my note-
+	book; and we will afterwards ork upon the cause with
+	as great discreetly as we can.
+
+FALSTAFF	Pistol!
+
+PISTOL	He hears with ears.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	The tevil and his tam! what phrase is this, 'He
+	hears with ear'? why, it is affectations.
+
+FALSTAFF	Pistol, did you pick Master Slender's purse?
+
+SLENDER	Ay, by these gloves, did he, or I would I might
+	never come in mine own great chamber again else, of
+	seven groats in mill-sixpences, and two Edward
+	shovel-boards, that cost me two shilling and two
+	pence apiece of Yead Miller, by these gloves.
+
+FALSTAFF	Is this true, Pistol?
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	No; it is false, if it is a pick-purse.
+
+PISTOL	Ha, thou mountain-foreigner! Sir John and Master mine,
+	I combat challenge of this latten bilbo.
+	Word of denial in thy labras here!
+	Word of denial: froth and scum, thou liest!
+
+SLENDER	By these gloves, then, 'twas he.
+
+NYM	Be avised, sir, and pass good humours: I will say
+	'marry trap' with you, if you run the nuthook's
+	humour on me; that is the very note of it.
+
+SLENDER	By this hat, then, he in the red face had it; for
+	though I cannot remember what I did when you made me
+	drunk, yet I am not altogether an ass.
+
+FALSTAFF	What say you, Scarlet and John?
+
+BARDOLPH	Why, sir, for my part I say the gentleman had drunk
+	himself out of his five sentences.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	It is his five senses: fie, what the ignorance is!
+
+BARDOLPH	And being fap, sir, was, as they say, cashiered; and
+	so conclusions passed the careires.
+
+SLENDER	Ay, you spake in Latin then too; but 'tis no
+	matter: I'll ne'er be drunk whilst I live again,
+	but in honest, civil, godly company, for this trick:
+	if I be drunk, I'll be drunk with those that have
+	the fear of God, and not with drunken knaves.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	So Got udge me, that is a virtuous mind.
+
+FALSTAFF	You hear all these matters denied, gentlemen; you hear it.
+
+	[Enter ANNE PAGE, with wine; MISTRESS FORD
+	and MISTRESS PAGE, following]
+
+PAGE	Nay, daughter, carry the wine in; we'll drink within.
+
+	[Exit ANNE PAGE]
+
+SLENDER	O heaven! this is Mistress Anne Page.
+
+PAGE	How now, Mistress Ford!
+
+FALSTAFF	Mistress Ford, by my troth, you are very well met:
+	by your leave, good mistress.
+
+	[Kisses her]
+
+PAGE	Wife, bid these gentlemen welcome. Come, we have a
+	hot venison pasty to dinner: come, gentlemen, I hope
+	we shall drink down all unkindness.
+
+	[Exeunt all except SHALLOW, SLENDER, and SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+SLENDER	I had rather than forty shillings I had my Book of
+	Songs and Sonnets here.
+
+	[Enter SIMPLE]
+
+	How now, Simple! where have you been? I must wait
+	on myself, must I? You have not the Book of Riddles
+	about you, have you?
+
+SIMPLE	Book of Riddles! why, did you not lend it to Alice
+	Shortcake upon All-hallowmas last, a fortnight
+	afore Michaelmas?
+
+SHALLOW	Come, coz; come, coz; we stay for you. A word with
+	you, coz; marry, this, coz: there is, as 'twere, a
+	tender, a kind of tender, made afar off by Sir Hugh
+	here. Do you understand me?
+
+SLENDER	Ay, sir, you shall find me reasonable; if it be so,
+	I shall do that that is reason.
+
+SHALLOW	Nay, but understand me.
+
+SLENDER	So I do, sir.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Give ear to his motions, Master Slender: I will
+	description the matter to you, if you be capacity of it.
+
+SLENDER	Nay, I will do as my cousin Shallow says: I pray
+	you, pardon me; he's a justice of peace in his
+	country, simple though I stand here.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	But that is not the question: the question is
+	concerning your marriage.
+
+SHALLOW	Ay, there's the point, sir.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Marry, is it; the very point of it; to Mistress Anne Page.
+
+SLENDER	Why, if it be so, I will marry her upon any
+	reasonable demands.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	But can you affection the 'oman? Let us command to
+	know that of your mouth or of your lips; for divers
+	philosophers hold that the lips is parcel of the
+	mouth. Therefore, precisely, can you carry your
+	good will to the maid?
+
+SHALLOW	Cousin Abraham Slender, can you love her?
+
+SLENDER	I hope, sir, I will do as it shall become one that
+	would do reason.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Nay, Got's lords and his ladies! you must speak
+	possitable, if you can carry her your desires
+	towards her.
+
+SHALLOW	That you must. Will you, upon good dowry, marry her?
+
+SLENDER	I will do a greater thing than that, upon your
+	request, cousin, in any reason.
+
+SHALLOW	Nay, conceive me, conceive me, sweet coz: what I do
+	is to pleasure you, coz. Can you love the maid?
+
+SLENDER	I will marry her, sir, at your request: but if there
+	be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven may
+	decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are
+	married and have more occasion to know one another;
+	I hope, upon familiarity will grow more contempt:
+	but if you say, 'Marry her,' I will marry her; that
+	I am freely dissolved, and dissolutely.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	It is a fery discretion answer; save the fall is in
+	the ort 'dissolutely:' the ort is, according to our
+	meaning, 'resolutely:' his meaning is good.
+
+SHALLOW	Ay, I think my cousin meant well.
+
+SLENDER	Ay, or else I would I might be hanged, la!
+
+SHALLOW	Here comes fair Mistress Anne.
+
+	[Re-enter ANNE PAGE]
+
+	Would I were young for your sake, Mistress Anne!
+
+ANNE PAGE	The dinner is on the table; my father desires your
+	worships' company.
+
+SHALLOW	I will wait on him, fair Mistress Anne.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Od's plessed will! I will not be absence at the grace.
+
+	[Exeunt SHALLOW and SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+ANNE PAGE	Will't please your worship to come in, sir?
+
+SLENDER	No, I thank you, forsooth, heartily; I am very well.
+
+ANNE PAGE	The dinner attends you, sir.
+
+SLENDER	I am not a-hungry, I thank you, forsooth. Go,
+	sirrah, for all you are my man, go wait upon my
+	cousin Shallow.
+
+	[Exit SIMPLE]
+
+	A justice of peace sometimes may be beholding to his
+	friend for a man. I keep but three men and a boy
+	yet, till my mother be dead: but what though? Yet I
+	live like a poor gentleman born.
+
+ANNE PAGE	I may not go in without your worship: they will not
+	sit till you come.
+
+SLENDER	I' faith, I'll eat nothing; I thank you as much as
+	though I did.
+
+ANNE PAGE	I pray you, sir, walk in.
+
+SLENDER	I had rather walk here, I thank you. I bruised
+	my shin th' other day with playing at sword and
+	dagger with a master of fence; three veneys for a
+	dish of stewed prunes; and, by my troth, I cannot
+	abide the smell of hot meat since. Why do your
+	dogs bark so? be there bears i' the town?
+
+ANNE PAGE	I think there are, sir; I heard them talked of.
+
+SLENDER	I love the sport well but I shall as soon quarrel at
+	it as any man in England. You are afraid, if you see
+	the bear loose, are you not?
+
+ANNE PAGE	Ay, indeed, sir.
+
+SLENDER	That's meat and drink to me, now. I have seen
+	Sackerson loose twenty times, and have taken him by
+	the chain; but, I warrant you, the women have so
+	cried and shrieked at it, that it passed: but women,
+	indeed, cannot abide 'em; they are very ill-favored
+	rough things.
+
+	[Re-enter PAGE]
+
+PAGE	Come, gentle Master Slender, come; we stay for you.
+
+SLENDER	I'll eat nothing, I thank you, sir.
+
+PAGE	By cock and pie, you shall not choose, sir! come, come.
+
+SLENDER	Nay, pray you, lead the way.
+
+PAGE	Come on, sir.
+
+SLENDER	Mistress Anne, yourself shall go first.
+
+ANNE PAGE	Not I, sir; pray you, keep on.
+
+SLENDER	I'll rather be unmannerly than troublesome.
+	You do yourself wrong, indeed, la!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter SIR HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE]
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Go your ways, and ask of Doctor Caius' house which
+	is the way: and there dwells one Mistress Quickly,
+	which is in the manner of his nurse, or his dry
+	nurse, or his cook, or his laundry, his washer, and
+	his wringer.
+
+SIMPLE	Well, sir.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Nay, it is petter yet. Give her this letter; for it
+	is a 'oman that altogether's acquaintance with
+	Mistress Anne Page: and the letter is, to desire
+	and require her to solicit your master's desires to
+	Mistress Anne Page. I pray you, be gone: I will
+	make an end of my dinner; there's pippins and cheese to come.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in the Garter Inn.
+
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF, Host, BARDOLPH, NYM, PISTOL,
+	and ROBIN]
+
+FALSTAFF	Mine host of the Garter!
+
+Host	What says my bully-rook? speak scholarly and wisely.
+
+FALSTAFF	Truly, mine host, I must turn away some of my
+	followers.
+
+Host	Discard, bully Hercules; cashier: let them wag; trot, trot.
+
+FALSTAFF	I sit at ten pounds a week.
+
+Host	Thou'rt an emperor, Caesar, Keisar, and Pheezar. I
+	will entertain Bardolph; he shall draw, he shall
+	tap: said I well, bully Hector?
+
+FALSTAFF	Do so, good mine host.
+
+Host	I have spoke; let him follow.
+
+	[To BARDOLPH]
+
+	Let me see thee froth and lime: I am at a word; follow.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FALSTAFF	Bardolph, follow him. A tapster is a good trade:
+	an old cloak makes a new jerkin; a withered
+	serving-man a fresh tapster. Go; adieu.
+
+BARDOLPH	It is a life that I have desired: I will thrive.
+
+PISTOL	O base Hungarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield?
+
+	[Exit BARDOLPH]
+
+NYM	He was gotten in drink: is not the humour conceited?
+
+FALSTAFF	I am glad I am so acquit of this tinderbox: his
+	thefts were too open; his filching was like an
+	unskilful singer; he kept not time.
+
+NYM	The good humour is to steal at a minute's rest.
+
+PISTOL	'Convey,' the wise it call. 'Steal!' foh! a fico
+	for the phrase!
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, sirs, I am almost out at heels.
+
+PISTOL	Why, then, let kibes ensue.
+
+FALSTAFF	There is no remedy; I must cony-catch; I must shift.
+
+PISTOL	Young ravens must have food.
+
+FALSTAFF	Which of you know Ford of this town?
+
+PISTOL	I ken the wight: he is of substance good.
+
+FALSTAFF	My honest lads, I will tell you what I am about.
+
+PISTOL	Two yards, and more.
+
+FALSTAFF	No quips now, Pistol! Indeed, I am in the waist two
+	yards about; but I am now about no waste; I am about
+	thrift. Briefly, I do mean to make love to Ford's
+	wife: I spy entertainment in her; she discourses,
+	she carves, she gives the leer of invitation: I
+	can construe the action of her familiar style; and
+	the hardest voice of her behavior, to be Englished
+	rightly, is, 'I am Sir John Falstaff's.'
+
+PISTOL	He hath studied her will, and translated her will,
+	out of honesty into English.
+
+NYM	The anchor is deep: will that humour pass?
+
+FALSTAFF	Now, the report goes she has all the rule of her
+	husband's purse: he hath a legion of angels.
+
+PISTOL	As many devils entertain; and 'To her, boy,' say I.
+
+NYM	The humour rises; it is good: humour me the angels.
+
+FALSTAFF	I have writ me here a letter to her: and here
+	another to Page's wife, who even now gave me good
+	eyes too, examined my parts with most judicious
+	oeillades; sometimes the beam of her view gilded my
+	foot, sometimes my portly belly.
+
+PISTOL	Then did the sun on dunghill shine.
+
+NYM	I thank thee for that humour.
+
+FALSTAFF	O, she did so course o'er my exteriors with such a
+	greedy intention, that the appetite of her eye did
+	seem to scorch me up like a burning-glass! Here's
+	another letter to her: she bears the purse too; she
+	is a region in Guiana, all gold and bounty. I will
+	be cheater to them both, and they shall be
+	exchequers to me; they shall be my East and West
+	Indies, and I will trade to them both. Go bear thou
+	this letter to Mistress Page; and thou this to
+	Mistress Ford: we will thrive, lads, we will thrive.
+
+PISTOL	Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become,
+	And by my side wear steel? then, Lucifer take all!
+
+NYM	I will run no base humour: here, take the
+	humour-letter: I will keep the havior of reputation.
+
+FALSTAFF	[To ROBIN]  Hold, sirrah, bear you these letters tightly;
+	Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.
+	Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hailstones, go;
+	Trudge, plod away o' the hoof; seek shelter, pack!
+	Falstaff will learn the humour of the age,
+	French thrift, you rogues; myself and skirted page.
+
+	[Exeunt FALSTAFF and ROBIN]
+
+PISTOL	Let vultures gripe thy guts! for gourd and fullam holds,
+	And high and low beguiles the rich and poor:
+	Tester I'll have in pouch when thou shalt lack,
+	Base Phrygian Turk!
+
+NYM	I have operations which be humours of revenge.
+
+PISTOL	Wilt thou revenge?
+
+NYM	By welkin and her star!
+
+PISTOL	With wit or steel?
+
+NYM	With both the humours, I:
+	I will discuss the humour of this love to Page.
+
+PISTOL	     And I to Ford shall eke unfold
+	How Falstaff, varlet vile,
+	His dove will prove, his gold will hold,
+	And his soft couch defile.
+
+NYM	My humour shall not cool: I will incense Page to
+	deal with poison; I will possess him with
+	yellowness, for the revolt of mine is dangerous:
+	that is my true humour.
+
+PISTOL	Thou art the Mars of malecontents: I second thee; troop on.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A room in DOCTOR CAIUS' house.
+
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY, SIMPLE, and RUGBY]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	What, John Rugby! I pray thee, go to the casement,
+	and see if you can see my master, Master Doctor
+	Caius, coming. If he do, i' faith, and find any
+	body in the house, here will be an old abusing of
+	God's patience and the king's English.
+
+RUGBY	I'll go watch.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Go; and we'll have a posset for't soon at night, in
+	faith, at the latter end of a sea-coal fire.
+
+	[Exit RUGBY]
+
+	An honest, willing, kind fellow, as ever servant
+	shall come in house withal, and, I warrant you, no
+	tell-tale nor no breed-bate: his worst fault is,
+	that he is given to prayer; he is something peevish
+	that way: but nobody but has his fault; but let
+	that pass. Peter Simple, you say your name is?
+
+SIMPLE	Ay, for fault of a better.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	And Master Slender's your master?
+
+SIMPLE	Ay, forsooth.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Does he not wear a great round beard, like a
+	glover's paring-knife?
+
+SIMPLE	No, forsooth: he hath but a little wee face, with a
+	little yellow beard, a Cain-coloured beard.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	A softly-sprighted man, is he not?
+
+SIMPLE	Ay, forsooth: but he is as tall a man of his hands
+	as any is between this and his head; he hath fought
+	with a warrener.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	How say you? O, I should remember him: does he not
+	hold up his head, as it were, and strut in his gait?
+
+SIMPLE	Yes, indeed, does he.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Well, heaven send Anne Page no worse fortune! Tell
+	Master Parson Evans I will do what I can for your
+	master: Anne is a good girl, and I wish--
+
+	[Re-enter RUGBY]
+
+RUGBY	Out, alas! here comes my master.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	We shall all be shent. Run in here, good young man;
+	go into this closet: he will not stay long.
+
+	[Shuts SIMPLE in the closet]
+
+	What, John Rugby! John! what, John, I say!
+	Go, John, go inquire for my master; I doubt
+	he be not well, that he comes not home.
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	And down, down, adown-a, &c.
+
+	[Enter DOCTOR CAIUS]
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Vat is you sing? I do not like des toys. Pray you,
+	go and vetch me in my closet un boitier vert, a box,
+	a green-a box: do intend vat I speak? a green-a box.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Ay, forsooth; I'll fetch it you.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	I am glad he went not in himself: if he had found
+	the young man, he would have been horn-mad.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Fe, fe, fe, fe! ma foi, il fait fort chaud. Je
+	m'en vais a la cour--la grande affaire.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Is it this, sir?
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Oui; mette le au mon pocket: depeche, quickly. Vere
+	is dat knave Rugby?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	What, John Rugby! John!
+
+RUGBY	Here, sir!
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	You are John Rugby, and you are Jack Rugby. Come,
+	take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to the court.
+
+RUGBY	'Tis ready, sir, here in the porch.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By my trot, I tarry too long. Od's me!
+	Qu'ai-j'oublie! dere is some simples in my closet,
+	dat I vill not for the varld I shall leave behind.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Ay me, he'll find the young man here, and be mad!
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	O diable, diable! vat is in my closet? Villain! larron!
+
+	[Pulling SIMPLE out]
+
+	Rugby, my rapier!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Good master, be content.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Wherefore shall I be content-a?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	The young man is an honest man.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	What shall de honest man do in my closet? dere is
+	no honest man dat shall come in my closet.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	I beseech you, be not so phlegmatic. Hear the truth
+	of it: he came of an errand to me from Parson Hugh.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Vell.
+
+SIMPLE	Ay, forsooth; to desire her to--
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Peace, I pray you.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Peace-a your tongue. Speak-a your tale.
+
+SIMPLE	To desire this honest gentlewoman, your maid, to
+	speak a good word to Mistress Anne Page for my
+	master in the way of marriage.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	This is all, indeed, la! but I'll ne'er put my
+	finger in the fire, and need not.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Sir Hugh send-a you? Rugby, baille me some paper.
+	Tarry you a little-a while.
+
+	[Writes]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	[Aside to SIMPLE]  I am glad he is so quiet: if he
+	had been thoroughly moved, you should have heard him
+	so loud and so melancholy. But notwithstanding,
+	man, I'll do you your master what good I can: and
+	the very yea and the no is, the French doctor, my
+	master,--I may call him my master, look you, for I
+	keep his house; and I wash, wring, brew, bake,
+	scour, dress meat and drink, make the beds and do
+	all myself,--
+
+SIMPLE	[Aside to MISTRESS QUICKLY]  'Tis a great charge to
+	come under one body's hand.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	[Aside to SIMPLE]  Are you avised o' that? you
+	shall find it a great charge: and to be up early
+	and down late; but notwithstanding,--to tell you in
+	your ear; I would have no words of it,--my master
+	himself is in love with Mistress Anne Page: but
+	notwithstanding that, I know Anne's mind,--that's
+	neither here nor there.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	You jack'nape, give-a this letter to Sir Hugh; by
+	gar, it is a shallenge: I will cut his troat in dee
+	park; and I will teach a scurvy jack-a-nape priest
+	to meddle or make. You may be gone; it is not good
+	you tarry here. By gar, I will cut all his two
+	stones; by gar, he shall not have a stone to throw
+	at his dog:
+
+	[Exit SIMPLE]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Alas, he speaks but for his friend.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	It is no matter-a ver dat: do not you tell-a me
+	dat I shall have Anne Page for myself? By gar, I
+	vill kill de Jack priest; and I have appointed mine
+	host of de Jarteer to measure our weapon. By gar, I
+	will myself have Anne Page.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Sir, the maid loves you, and all shall be well. We
+	must give folks leave to prate: what, the good-jer!
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Rugby, come to the court with me. By gar, if I have
+	not Anne Page, I shall turn your head out of my
+	door. Follow my heels, Rugby.
+
+	[Exeunt DOCTOR CAIUS and RUGBY]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	You shall have An fool's-head of your own. No, I
+	know Anne's mind for that: never a woman in Windsor
+	knows more of Anne's mind than I do; nor can do more
+	than I do with her, I thank heaven.
+
+FENTON	[Within]  Who's within there? ho!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Who's there, I trow! Come near the house, I pray you.
+
+	[Enter FENTON]
+
+FENTON	How now, good woman? how dost thou?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	The better that it pleases your good worship to ask.
+
+FENTON	What news? how does pretty Mistress Anne?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	In truth, sir, and she is pretty, and honest, and
+	gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you
+	that by the way; I praise heaven for it.
+
+FENTON	Shall I do any good, thinkest thou? shall I not lose my suit?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Troth, sir, all is in his hands above: but
+	notwithstanding, Master Fenton, I'll be sworn on a
+	book, she loves you. Have not your worship a wart
+	above your eye?
+
+FENTON	Yes, marry, have I; what of that?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Well, thereby hangs a tale: good faith, it is such
+	another Nan; but, I detest, an honest maid as ever
+	broke bread: we had an hour's talk of that wart. I
+	shall never laugh but in that maid's company! But
+	indeed she is given too much to allicholy and
+	musing: but for you--well, go to.
+
+FENTON	Well, I shall see her to-day. Hold, there's money
+	for thee; let me have thy voice in my behalf: if
+	thou seest her before me, commend me.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Will I? i'faith, that we will; and I will tell your
+	worship more of the wart the next time we have
+	confidence; and of other wooers.
+
+FENTON	Well, farewell; I am in great haste now.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Farewell to your worship.
+
+	[Exit FENTON]
+
+	Truly, an honest gentleman: but Anne loves him not;
+	for I know Anne's mind as well as another does. Out
+	upon't! what have I forgot?
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before PAGE'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS PAGE, with a letter]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	What, have I scaped love-letters in the holiday-
+	time of my beauty, and am I now a subject for them?
+	Let me see.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'Ask me no reason why I love you; for though
+	Love use Reason for his physician, he admits him
+	not for his counsellor. You are not young, no more
+	am I; go to then, there's sympathy: you are merry,
+	so am I; ha, ha! then there's more sympathy: you
+	love sack, and so do I; would you desire better
+	sympathy? Let it suffice thee, Mistress Page,--at
+	the least, if the love of soldier can suffice,--
+	that I love thee. I will not say, pity me; 'tis
+	not a soldier-like phrase: but I say, love me. By me,
+	Thine own true knight,
+	By day or night,
+	Or any kind of light,
+	With all his might
+	For thee to fight,    JOHN FALSTAFF'
+	What a Herod of Jewry is this! O wicked
+	world! One that is well-nigh worn to pieces with
+	age to show himself a young gallant! What an
+	unweighed behavior hath this Flemish drunkard
+	picked--with the devil's name!--out of my
+	conversation, that he dares in this manner assay me?
+	Why, he hath not been thrice in my company! What
+	should I say to him? I was then frugal of my
+	mirth: Heaven forgive me! Why, I'll exhibit a bill
+	in the parliament for the putting down of men. How
+	shall I be revenged on him? for revenged I will be,
+	as sure as his guts are made of puddings.
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS FORD]
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Mistress Page! trust me, I was going to your house.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	And, trust me, I was coming to you. You look very
+	ill.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Nay, I'll ne'er believe that; I have to show to the contrary.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Faith, but you do, in my mind.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Well, I do then; yet I say I could show you to the
+	contrary. O Mistress Page, give me some counsel!
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	What's the matter, woman?
+
+MISTRESS FORD	O woman, if it were not for one trifling respect, I
+	could come to such honour!
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Hang the trifle, woman! take the honour. What is
+	it? dispense with trifles; what is it?
+
+MISTRESS FORD	If I would but go to hell for an eternal moment or so,
+	I could be knighted.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	What? thou liest! Sir Alice Ford! These knights
+	will hack; and so thou shouldst not alter the
+	article of thy gentry.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	We burn daylight: here, read, read; perceive how I
+	might be knighted. I shall think the worse of fat
+	men, as long as I have an eye to make difference of
+	men's liking: and yet he would not swear; praised
+	women's modesty; and gave such orderly and
+	well-behaved reproof to all uncomeliness, that I
+	would have sworn his disposition would have gone to
+	the truth of his words; but they do no more adhere
+	and keep place together than the Hundredth Psalm to
+	the tune of 'Green Sleeves.' What tempest, I trow,
+	threw this whale, with so many tuns of oil in his
+	belly, ashore at Windsor? How shall I be revenged
+	on him? I think the best way were to entertain him
+	with hope, till the wicked fire of lust have melted
+	him in his own grease. Did you ever hear the like?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Letter for letter, but that the name of Page and
+	Ford differs! To thy great comfort in this mystery
+	of ill opinions, here's the twin-brother of thy
+	letter: but let thine inherit first; for, I
+	protest, mine never shall. I warrant he hath a
+	thousand of these letters, writ with blank space for
+	different names--sure, more,--and these are of the
+	second edition: he will print them, out of doubt;
+	for he cares not what he puts into the press, when
+	he would put us two. I had rather be a giantess,
+	and lie under Mount Pelion. Well, I will find you
+	twenty lascivious turtles ere one chaste man.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Why, this is the very same; the very hand, the very
+	words. What doth he think of us?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Nay, I know not: it makes me almost ready to
+	wrangle with mine own honesty. I'll entertain
+	myself like one that I am not acquainted withal;
+	for, sure, unless he know some strain in me, that I
+	know not myself, he would never have boarded me in this fury.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	'Boarding,' call you it? I'll be sure to keep him
+	above deck.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	So will I	if he come under my hatches, I'll never
+	to sea again. Let's be revenged on him: let's
+	appoint him a meeting; give him a show of comfort in
+	his suit and lead him on with a fine-baited delay,
+	till he hath pawned his horses to mine host of the Garter.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Nay, I will consent to act any villany against him,
+	that may not sully the chariness of our honesty. O,
+	that my husband saw this letter! it would give
+	eternal food to his jealousy.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Why, look where he comes; and my good man too: he's
+	as far from jealousy as I am from giving him cause;
+	and that I hope is an unmeasurable distance.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	You are the happier woman.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Let's consult together against this greasy knight.
+	Come hither.
+
+	[They retire]
+
+	[Enter FORD with PISTOL, and PAGE with NYM]
+
+FORD	Well, I hope it be not so.
+
+PISTOL	Hope is a curtal dog in some affairs:
+	Sir John affects thy wife.
+
+FORD	Why, sir, my wife is not young.
+
+PISTOL	He wooes both high and low, both rich and poor,
+	Both young and old, one with another, Ford;
+	He loves the gallimaufry: Ford, perpend.
+
+FORD	Love my wife!
+
+PISTOL	With liver burning hot. Prevent, or go thou,
+	Like Sir Actaeon he, with Ringwood at thy heels:
+	O, odious is the name!
+
+FORD	What name, sir?
+
+PISTOL	The horn, I say. Farewell.
+	Take heed, have open eye, for thieves do foot by night:
+	Take heed, ere summer comes or cuckoo-birds do sing.
+	Away, Sir Corporal Nym!
+	Believe it, Page; he speaks sense.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FORD	[Aside]  I will be patient; I will find out this.
+
+NYM	[To PAGE]  And this is true; I like not the humour
+	of lying. He hath wronged me in some humours: I
+	should have borne the humoured letter to her; but I
+	have a sword and it shall bite upon my necessity.
+	He loves your wife; there's the short and the long.
+	My name is Corporal Nym; I speak and I avouch; 'tis
+	true: my name is Nym and Falstaff loves your wife.
+	Adieu. I love not the humour of bread and cheese,
+	and there's the humour of it. Adieu.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PAGE	'The humour of it,' quoth a'! here's a fellow
+	frights English out of his wits.
+
+FORD	I will seek out Falstaff.
+
+PAGE	I never heard such a drawling, affecting rogue.
+
+FORD	If I do find it: well.
+
+PAGE	I will not believe such a Cataian, though the priest
+	o' the town commended him for a true man.
+
+FORD	'Twas a good sensible fellow: well.
+
+PAGE	How now, Meg!
+
+	[MISTRESS PAGE and MISTRESS FORD come forward]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Whither go you, George? Hark you.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	How now, sweet Frank! why art thou melancholy?
+
+FORD	I melancholy! I am not melancholy. Get you home, go.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head. Now,
+	will you go, Mistress Page?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Have with you. You'll come to dinner, George.
+
+	[Aside to MISTRESS FORD]
+
+	Look who comes yonder: she shall be our messenger
+	to this paltry knight.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	[Aside to MISTRESS PAGE]  Trust me, I thought on her:
+	she'll fit it.
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	You are come to see my daughter Anne?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Ay, forsooth; and, I pray, how does good Mistress Anne?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Go in with us and see: we have an hour's talk with
+	you.
+
+	[Exeunt MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS FORD, and MISTRESS QUICKLY]
+
+PAGE	How now, Master Ford!
+
+FORD	You heard what this knave told me, did you not?
+
+PAGE	Yes: and you heard what the other told me?
+
+FORD	Do you think there is truth in them?
+
+PAGE	Hang 'em, slaves! I do not think the knight would
+	offer it: but these that accuse him in his intent
+	towards our wives are a yoke of his discarded men;
+	very rogues, now they be out of service.
+
+FORD	Were they his men?
+
+PAGE	Marry, were they.
+
+FORD	I like it never the better for that. Does he lie at
+	the Garter?
+
+PAGE	Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend this voyage
+	towards my wife, I would turn her loose to him; and
+	what he gets more of her than sharp words, let it
+	lie on my head.
+
+FORD	I do not misdoubt my wife; but I would be loath to
+	turn them together. A man may be too confident: I
+	would have nothing lie on my head: I cannot be thus satisfied.
+
+PAGE	Look where my ranting host of the Garter comes:
+	there is either liquor in his pate or money in his
+	purse when he looks so merrily.
+
+	[Enter Host]
+
+	How now, mine host!
+
+Host	How now, bully-rook! thou'rt a gentleman.
+	Cavaleiro-justice, I say!
+
+	[Enter SHALLOW]
+
+SHALLOW	I follow, mine host, I follow. Good even and
+	twenty, good Master Page! Master Page, will you go
+	with us? we have sport in hand.
+
+Host	Tell him, cavaleiro-justice; tell him, bully-rook.
+
+SHALLOW	Sir, there is a fray to be fought between Sir Hugh
+	the Welsh priest and Caius the French doctor.
+
+FORD	Good mine host o' the Garter, a word with you.
+
+	[Drawing him aside]
+
+Host	What sayest thou, my bully-rook?
+
+SHALLOW	[To PAGE]  Will you go with us to behold it? My
+	merry host hath had the measuring of their weapons;
+	and, I think, hath appointed them contrary places;
+	for, believe me, I hear the parson is no jester.
+	Hark, I will tell you what our sport shall be.
+
+	[They converse apart]
+
+Host	Hast thou no suit against my knight, my
+	guest-cavaleire?
+
+FORD	None, I protest: but I'll give you a pottle of
+	burnt sack to give me recourse to him and tell him
+	my name is Brook; only for a jest.
+
+Host	My hand, bully; thou shalt have egress and regress;
+	--said I well?--and thy name shall be Brook. It is
+	a merry knight. Will you go, An-heires?
+
+SHALLOW	Have with you, mine host.
+
+PAGE	I have heard the Frenchman hath good skill in
+	his rapier.
+
+SHALLOW	Tut, sir, I could have told you more. In these times
+	you stand on distance, your passes, stoccadoes, and
+	I know not what: 'tis the heart, Master Page; 'tis
+	here, 'tis here. I have seen the time, with my long
+	sword I would have made you four tall fellows skip like rats.
+
+Host	Here, boys, here, here! shall we wag?
+
+PAGE	Have with you. I would rather hear them scold than fight.
+
+	[Exeunt Host, SHALLOW, and PAGE]
+
+FORD	Though Page be a secure fool, an stands so firmly
+	on his wife's frailty, yet I cannot put off my
+	opinion so easily: she was in his company at Page's
+	house; and what they made there, I know not. Well,
+	I will look further into't: and I have a disguise
+	to sound Falstaff. If I find her honest, I lose not
+	my labour; if she be otherwise, 'tis labour well bestowed.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A room in the Garter Inn.
+
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF and PISTOL]
+
+
+FALSTAFF	I will not lend thee a penny.
+
+PISTOL	Why, then the world's mine oyster.
+	Which I with sword will open.
+
+FALSTAFF	Not a penny. I have been content, sir, you should
+	lay my countenance to pawn; I have grated upon my
+	good friends for three reprieves for you and your
+	coach-fellow Nym; or else you had looked through
+	the grate, like a geminy of baboons. I am damned in
+	hell for swearing to gentlemen my friends, you were
+	good soldiers and tall fellows; and when Mistress
+	Bridget lost the handle of her fan, I took't upon
+	mine honour thou hadst it not.
+
+PISTOL	Didst not thou share? hadst thou not fifteen pence?
+
+FALSTAFF	Reason, you rogue, reason: thinkest thou I'll
+	endanger my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more
+	about me, I am no gibbet for you. Go. A short knife
+	and a throng! To your manor of Pickt-hatch! Go.
+	You'll not bear a letter for me, you rogue! you
+	stand upon your honour! Why, thou unconfinable
+	baseness, it is as much as I can do to keep the
+	terms of my honour precise: I, I, I myself
+	sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand
+	and hiding mine honour in my necessity, am fain to
+	shuffle, to hedge and to lurch; and yet you, rogue,
+	will ensconce your rags, your cat-a-mountain
+	looks, your red-lattice phrases, and your
+	bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your
+	honour! You will not do it, you!
+
+PISTOL	I do relent: what would thou more of man?
+
+	[Enter ROBIN]
+
+ROBIN	Sir, here's a woman would speak with you.
+
+FALSTAFF	Let her approach.
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Give your worship good morrow.
+
+FALSTAFF	Good morrow, good wife.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Not so, an't please your worship.
+
+FALSTAFF	Good maid, then.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	I'll be sworn,
+	As my mother was, the first hour I was born.
+
+FALSTAFF	I do believe the swearer. What with me?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Shall I vouchsafe your worship a word or two?
+
+FALSTAFF	Two thousand, fair woman: and I'll vouchsafe thee
+	the hearing.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	There is one Mistress Ford, sir:--I pray, come a
+	little nearer this ways:--I myself dwell with master
+	Doctor Caius,--
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, on: Mistress Ford, you say,--
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Your worship says very true: I pray your worship,
+	come a little nearer this ways.
+
+FALSTAFF	I warrant thee, nobody hears; mine own people, mine
+	own people.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Are they so? God bless them and make them his servants!
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, Mistress Ford; what of her?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Why, sir, she's a good creature. Lord Lord! your
+	worship's a wanton! Well, heaven forgive you and all
+	of us, I pray!
+
+FALSTAFF	Mistress Ford; come, Mistress Ford,--
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Marry, this is the short and the long of it; you
+	have brought her into such a canaries as 'tis
+	wonderful. The best courtier of them all, when the
+	court lay at Windsor, could never have brought her
+	to such a canary. Yet there has been knights, and
+	lords, and gentlemen, with their coaches, I warrant
+	you, coach after coach, letter after letter, gift
+	after gift; smelling so sweetly, all musk, and so
+	rushling, I warrant you, in silk and gold; and in
+	such alligant terms; and in such wine and sugar of
+	the best and the fairest, that would have won any
+	woman's heart; and, I warrant you, they could never
+	get an eye-wink of her: I had myself twenty angels
+	given me this morning; but I defy all angels, in
+	any such sort, as they say, but in the way of
+	honesty: and, I warrant you, they could never get
+	her so much as sip on a cup with the proudest of
+	them all: and yet there has been earls, nay, which
+	is more, pensioners; but, I warrant you, all is one with her.
+
+FALSTAFF	But what says she to me? be brief, my good
+	she-Mercury.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Marry, she hath received your letter, for the which
+	she thanks you a thousand times; and she gives you
+	to notify that her husband will be absence from his
+	house between ten and eleven.
+
+FALSTAFF	Ten and eleven?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Ay, forsooth; and then you may come and see the
+	picture, she says, that you wot of: Master Ford,
+	her husband, will be from home. Alas! the sweet
+	woman leads an ill life with him: he's a very
+	jealousy man: she leads a very frampold life with
+	him, good heart.
+
+FALSTAFF	Ten and eleven. Woman, commend me to her; I will
+	not fail her.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Why, you say well. But I have another messenger to
+	your worship. Mistress Page hath her hearty
+	commendations to you too: and let me tell you in
+	your ear, she's as fartuous a civil modest wife, and
+	one, I tell you, that will not miss you morning nor
+	evening prayer, as any is in Windsor, whoe'er be the
+	other: and she bade me tell your worship that her
+	husband is seldom from home; but she hopes there
+	will come a time. I never knew a woman so dote upon
+	a man: surely I think you have charms, la; yes, in truth.
+
+FALSTAFF	Not I, I assure thee: setting the attractions of my
+	good parts aside I have no other charms.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Blessing on your heart for't!
+
+FALSTAFF	But, I pray thee, tell me this: has Ford's wife and
+	Page's wife acquainted each other how they love me?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	That were a jest indeed! they have not so little
+	grace, I hope: that were a trick indeed! but
+	Mistress Page would desire you to send her your
+	little page, of all loves: her husband has a
+	marvellous infection to the little page; and truly
+	Master Page is an honest man. Never a wife in
+	Windsor leads a better life than she does: do what
+	she will, say what she will, take all, pay all, go
+	to bed when she list, rise when she list, all is as
+	she will: and truly she deserves it; for if there
+	be a kind woman in Windsor, she is one. You must
+	send her your page; no remedy.
+
+FALSTAFF	Why, I will.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Nay, but do so, then: and, look you, he may come and
+	go between you both; and in any case have a
+	nay-word, that you may know one another's mind, and
+	the boy never need to understand any thing; for
+	'tis not good that children should know any
+	wickedness: old folks, you know, have discretion,
+	as they say, and know the world.
+
+FALSTAFF	Fare thee well: commend me to them both: there's
+	my purse; I am yet thy debtor. Boy, go along with
+	this woman.
+
+	[Exeunt MISTRESS QUICKLY and ROBIN]
+
+	This news distracts me!
+
+PISTOL	This punk is one of Cupid's carriers:
+	Clap on more sails; pursue; up with your fights:
+	Give fire: she is my prize, or ocean whelm them all!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FALSTAFF	Sayest thou so, old Jack? go thy ways; I'll make
+	more of thy old body than I have done. Will they
+	yet look after thee? Wilt thou, after the expense
+	of so much money, be now a gainer? Good body, I
+	thank thee. Let them say 'tis grossly done; so it be
+	fairly done, no matter.
+
+	[Enter BARDOLPH]
+
+BARDOLPH	Sir John, there's one Master Brook below would fain
+	speak with you, and be acquainted with you; and hath
+	sent your worship a morning's draught of sack.
+
+FALSTAFF	Brook is his name?
+
+BARDOLPH	Ay, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	Call him in.
+
+	[Exit BARDOLPH]
+
+	Such Brooks are welcome to me, that o'erflow such
+	liquor. Ah, ha! Mistress Ford and Mistress Page
+	have I encompassed you? go to; via!
+
+	[Re-enter BARDOLPH, with FORD disguised]
+
+FORD	Bless you, sir!
+
+FALSTAFF	And you, sir! Would you speak with me?
+
+FORD	I make bold to press with so little preparation upon
+	you.
+
+FALSTAFF	You're welcome. What's your will? Give us leave, drawer.
+
+	[Exit BARDOLPH]
+
+FORD	Sir, I am a gentleman that have spent much; my name is Brook.
+
+FALSTAFF	Good Master Brook, I desire more acquaintance of you.
+
+FORD	Good Sir John, I sue for yours: not to charge you;
+	for I must let you understand I think myself in
+	better plight for a lender than you are: the which
+	hath something embolden'd me to this unseasoned
+	intrusion; for they say, if money go before, all
+	ways do lie open.
+
+FALSTAFF	Money is a good soldier, sir, and will on.
+
+FORD	Troth, and I have a bag of money here troubles me:
+	if you will help to bear it, Sir John, take all, or
+	half, for easing me of the carriage.
+
+FALSTAFF	Sir, I know not how I may deserve to be your porter.
+
+FORD	I will tell you, sir, if you will give me the hearing.
+
+FALSTAFF	Speak, good Master Brook: I shall be glad to be
+	your servant.
+
+FORD	Sir, I hear you are a scholar,--I will be brief
+	with you,--and you have been a man long known to me,
+	though I had never so good means, as desire, to make
+	myself acquainted with you. I shall discover a
+	thing to you, wherein I must very much lay open mine
+	own imperfection: but, good Sir John, as you have
+	one eye upon my follies, as you hear them unfolded,
+	turn another into the register of your own; that I
+	may pass with a reproof the easier, sith you
+	yourself know how easy it is to be such an offender.
+
+FALSTAFF	Very well, sir; proceed.
+
+FORD	There is a gentlewoman in this town; her husband's
+	name is Ford.
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, sir.
+
+FORD	I have long loved her, and, I protest to you,
+	bestowed much on her; followed her with a doting
+	observance; engrossed opportunities to meet her;
+	fee'd every slight occasion that could but niggardly
+	give me sight of her; not only bought many presents
+	to give her, but have given largely to many to know
+	what she would have given; briefly, I have pursued
+	her as love hath pursued me; which hath been on the
+	wing of all occasions. But whatsoever I have
+	merited, either in my mind or, in my means, meed,
+	I am sure, I have received none; unless experience
+	be a jewel that I have purchased at an infinite
+	rate, and that hath taught me to say this:
+
+	'Love like a shadow flies when substance love pursues;
+	Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues.'
+
+FALSTAFF	Have you received no promise of satisfaction at her hands?
+
+FORD	Never.
+
+FALSTAFF	Have you importuned her to such a purpose?
+
+FORD	Never.
+
+FALSTAFF	Of what quality was your love, then?
+
+FORD	Like a fair house built on another man's ground; so
+	that I have lost my edifice by mistaking the place
+	where I erected it.
+
+FALSTAFF	To what purpose have you unfolded this to me?
+
+FORD	When I have told you that, I have told you all.
+	Some say, that though she appear honest to me, yet in
+	other places she enlargeth her mirth so far that
+	there is shrewd construction made of her. Now, Sir
+	John, here is the heart of my purpose: you are a
+	gentleman of excellent breeding, admirable
+	discourse, of great admittance, authentic in your
+	place and person, generally allowed for your many
+	war-like, court-like, and learned preparations.
+
+FALSTAFF	O, sir!
+
+FORD	Believe it, for you know it. There is money; spend
+	it, spend it; spend more; spend all I have; only
+	give me so much of your time in exchange of it, as
+	to lay an amiable siege to the honesty of this
+	Ford's wife: use your art of wooing; win her to
+	consent to you: if any man may, you may as soon as
+	any.
+
+FALSTAFF	Would it apply well to the vehemency of your
+	affection, that I should win what you would enjoy?
+	Methinks you prescribe to yourself very preposterously.
+
+FORD	O, understand my drift. She dwells so securely on
+	the excellency of her honour, that the folly of my
+	soul dares not present itself: she is too bright to
+	be looked against. Now, could I could come to her
+	with any detection in my hand, my desires had
+	instance and argument to commend themselves: I
+	could drive her then from the ward of her purity,
+	her reputation, her marriage-vow, and a thousand
+	other her defences, which now are too too strongly
+	embattled against me. What say you to't, Sir John?
+
+FALSTAFF	Master Brook, I will first make bold with your
+	money; next, give me your hand; and last, as I am a
+	gentleman, you shall, if you will, enjoy Ford's wife.
+
+FORD	O good sir!
+
+FALSTAFF	I say you shall.
+
+FORD	Want no money, Sir John; you shall want none.
+
+FALSTAFF	Want no Mistress Ford, Master Brook; you shall want
+	none. I shall be with her, I may tell you, by her
+	own appointment; even as you came in to me, her
+	assistant or go-between parted from me: I say I
+	shall be with her between ten and eleven; for at
+	that time the jealous rascally knave her husband
+	will be forth. Come you to me at night; you shall
+	know how I speed.
+
+FORD	I am blest in your acquaintance. Do you know Ford,
+	sir?
+
+FALSTAFF	Hang him, poor cuckoldly knave! I know him not:
+	yet I wrong him to call him poor; they say the
+	jealous wittolly knave hath masses of money; for the
+	which his wife seems to me well-favored. I will
+	use her as the key of the cuckoldly rogue's coffer;
+	and there's my harvest-home.
+
+FORD	I would you knew Ford, sir, that you might avoid him
+	if you saw him.
+
+FALSTAFF	Hang him, mechanical salt-butter rogue! I will
+	stare him out of his wits; I will awe him with my
+	cudgel: it shall hang like a meteor o'er the
+	cuckold's horns. Master Brook, thou shalt know I
+	will predominate over the peasant, and thou shalt
+	lie with his wife. Come to me soon at night.
+	Ford's a knave, and I will aggravate his style;
+	thou, Master Brook, shalt know him for knave and
+	cuckold. Come to me soon at night.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FORD	What a damned Epicurean rascal is this! My heart is
+	ready to crack with impatience. Who says this is
+	improvident jealousy? my wife hath sent to him; the
+	hour is fixed; the match is made. Would any man
+	have thought this? See the hell of having a false
+	woman! My bed shall be abused, my coffers
+	ransacked, my reputation gnawn at; and I shall not
+	only receive this villanous wrong, but stand under
+	the adoption of abominable terms, and by him that
+	does me this wrong. Terms! names! Amaimon sounds
+	well; Lucifer, well; Barbason, well; yet they are
+	devils' additions, the names of fiends: but
+	Cuckold! Wittol!--Cuckold! the devil himself hath
+	not such a name. Page is an ass, a secure ass: he
+	will trust his wife; he will not be jealous. I will
+	rather trust a Fleming with my butter, Parson Hugh
+	the Welshman with my cheese, an Irishman with my
+	aqua-vitae bottle, or a thief to walk my ambling
+	gelding, than my wife with herself; then she plots,
+	then she ruminates, then she devises; and what they
+	think in their hearts they may effect, they will
+	break their hearts but they will effect. God be
+	praised for my jealousy! Eleven o'clock the hour.
+	I will prevent this, detect my wife, be revenged on
+	Falstaff, and laugh at Page. I will about it;
+	better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
+	Fie, fie, fie! cuckold! cuckold! cuckold!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A field near Windsor.
+
+
+	[Enter DOCTOR CAIUS and RUGBY]
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Jack Rugby!
+
+RUGBY	Sir?
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Vat is de clock, Jack?
+
+RUGBY	'Tis past the hour, sir, that Sir Hugh promised to meet.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, he has save his soul, dat he is no come; he
+	has pray his Pible well, dat he is no come: by gar,
+	Jack Rugby, he is dead already, if he be come.
+
+RUGBY	He is wise, sir; he knew your worship would kill
+	him, if he came.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, de herring is no dead so as I vill kill him.
+	Take your rapier, Jack; I vill tell you how I vill kill him.
+
+RUGBY	Alas, sir, I cannot fence.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Villany, take your rapier.
+
+RUGBY	Forbear; here's company.
+
+	[Enter Host, SHALLOW, SLENDER, and PAGE]
+
+Host	Bless thee, bully doctor!
+
+SHALLOW	Save you, Master Doctor Caius!
+
+PAGE	Now, good master doctor!
+
+SLENDER	Give you good morrow, sir.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come for?
+
+Host	To see thee fight, to see thee foin, to see thee
+	traverse; to see thee here, to see thee there; to
+	see thee pass thy punto, thy stock, thy reverse, thy
+	distance, thy montant. Is he dead, my Ethiopian? is
+	he dead, my Francisco? ha, bully! What says my
+	AEsculapius? my Galen? my heart of elder? ha! is
+	he dead, bully stale? is he dead?
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, he is de coward Jack priest of de vorld; he
+	is not show his face.
+
+Host	Thou art a Castalion-King-Urinal. Hector of Greece, my boy!
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	I pray you, bear vitness that me have stay six or
+	seven, two, tree hours for him, and he is no come.
+
+SHALLOW	He is the wiser man, master doctor: he is a curer of
+	souls, and you a curer of bodies; if you should
+	fight, you go against the hair of your professions.
+	Is it not true, Master Page?
+
+PAGE	Master Shallow, you have yourself been a great
+	fighter, though now a man of peace.
+
+SHALLOW	Bodykins, Master Page, though I now be old and of
+	the peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches to
+	make one. Though we are justices and doctors and
+	churchmen, Master Page, we have some salt of our
+	youth in us; we are the sons of women, Master Page.
+
+PAGE	'Tis true, Master Shallow.
+
+SHALLOW	It will be found so, Master Page. Master Doctor
+	Caius, I am come to fetch you home. I am sworn of
+	the peace: you have showed yourself a wise
+	physician, and Sir Hugh hath shown himself a wise
+	and patient churchman. You must go with me, master doctor.
+
+Host	Pardon, guest-justice. A word, Mounseur Mockwater.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Mock-vater! vat is dat?
+
+Host	Mock-water, in our English tongue, is valour, bully.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, den, I have as mush mock-vater as de
+	Englishman. Scurvy jack-dog priest! by gar, me
+	vill cut his ears.
+
+Host	He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Clapper-de-claw! vat is dat?
+
+Host	That is, he will make thee amends.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, me do look he shall clapper-de-claw me;
+	for, by gar, me vill have it.
+
+Host	And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Me tank you for dat.
+
+Host	And, moreover, bully,--but first, master guest, and
+	Master Page, and eke Cavaleiro Slender, go you
+	through the town to Frogmore.
+
+	[Aside to them]
+
+PAGE	Sir Hugh is there, is he?
+
+Host	He is there: see what humour he is in; and I will
+	bring the doctor about by the fields. Will it do well?
+
+SHALLOW	We will do it.
+
+
+PAGE	|
+	|
+SHALLOW	|  Adieu, good master doctor.
+	|
+SLENDER	|
+
+
+	[Exeunt PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER]
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, me vill kill de priest; for he speak for a
+	jack-an-ape to Anne Page.
+
+Host	Let him die: sheathe thy impatience, throw cold
+	water on thy choler: go about the fields with me
+	through Frogmore: I will bring thee where Mistress
+	Anne Page is, at a farm-house a-feasting; and thou
+	shalt woo her. Cried I aim? said I well?
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, me dank you for dat: by gar, I love you;
+	and I shall procure-a you de good guest, de earl,
+	de knight, de lords, de gentlemen, my patients.
+
+Host	For the which I will be thy adversary toward Anne
+	Page. Said I well?
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, 'tis good; vell said.
+
+Host	Let us wag, then.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Come at my heels, Jack Rugby.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A field near Frogmore.
+
+
+	[Enter SIR HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE]
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	I pray you now, good master Slender's serving-man,
+	and friend Simple by your name, which way have you
+	looked for Master Caius, that calls himself doctor of physic?
+
+SIMPLE	Marry, sir, the pittie-ward, the park-ward, every
+	way; old Windsor way, and every way but the town
+	way.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	I most fehemently desire you you will also look that
+	way.
+
+SIMPLE	I will, sir.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	'Pless my soul, how full of chollors I am, and
+	trempling of mind! I shall be glad if he have
+	deceived me. How melancholies I am! I will knog
+	his urinals about his knave's costard when I have
+	good opportunities for the ork. 'Pless my soul!
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	To shallow rivers, to whose falls
+	Melodious birds sings madrigals;
+	There will we make our peds of roses,
+	And a thousand fragrant posies.
+	To shallow--
+
+	Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry.
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	Melodious birds sing madrigals--
+	When as I sat in Pabylon--
+	And a thousand vagram posies.
+	To shallow &c.
+
+	[Re-enter SIMPLE]
+
+SIMPLE	Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	He's welcome.
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	To shallow rivers, to whose falls-
+	Heaven prosper the right! What weapons is he?
+
+SIMPLE	No weapons, sir. There comes my master, Master
+	Shallow, and another gentleman, from Frogmore, over
+	the stile, this way.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Pray you, give me my gown; or else keep it in your arms.
+
+	[Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER]
+
+SHALLOW	How now, master Parson! Good morrow, good Sir Hugh.
+	Keep a gamester from the dice, and a good student
+	from his book, and it is wonderful.
+
+SLENDER	[Aside]  Ah, sweet Anne Page!
+
+PAGE	'Save you, good Sir Hugh!
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	'Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you!
+
+SHALLOW	What, the sword and the word! do you study them
+	both, master parson?
+
+PAGE	And youthful still! in your doublet and hose this
+	raw rheumatic day!
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	There is reasons and causes for it.
+
+PAGE	We are come to you to do a good office, master parson.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Fery well: what is it?
+
+PAGE	Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, who, belike
+	having received wrong by some person, is at most
+	odds with his own gravity and patience that ever you
+	saw.
+
+SHALLOW	I have lived fourscore years and upward; I never
+	heard a man of his place, gravity and learning, so
+	wide of his own respect.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	What is he?
+
+PAGE	I think you know him; Master Doctor Caius, the
+	renowned French physician.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Got's will, and his passion of my heart! I had as
+	lief you would tell me of a mess of porridge.
+
+PAGE	Why?
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and Galen,
+	--and he is a knave besides; a cowardly knave as you
+	would desires to be acquainted withal.
+
+PAGE	I warrant you, he's the man should fight with him.
+
+SHALLOW	[Aside]  O sweet Anne Page!
+
+SHALLOW	It appears so by his weapons. Keep them asunder:
+	here comes Doctor Caius.
+
+	[Enter Host, DOCTOR CAIUS, and RUGBY]
+
+PAGE	Nay, good master parson, keep in your weapon.
+
+SHALLOW	So do you, good master doctor.
+
+Host	Disarm them, and let them question: let them keep
+	their limbs whole and hack our English.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	I pray you, let-a me speak a word with your ear.
+	Vherefore vill you not meet-a me?
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	[Aside to DOCTOR CAIUS]  Pray you, use your patience:
+	in good time.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	[Aside to DOCTOR CAIUS]  Pray you let us not be
+	laughing-stocks to other men's humours; I desire you
+	in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends.
+
+	[Aloud]
+
+	I will knog your urinals about your knave's cockscomb
+	for missing your meetings and appointments.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Diable! Jack Rugby,--mine host de Jarteer,--have I
+	not stay for him to kill him? have I not, at de place
+	I did appoint?
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	As I am a Christians soul now, look you, this is the
+	place appointed: I'll be judgement by mine host of
+	the Garter.
+
+Host	Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul, French and Welsh,
+	soul-curer and body-curer!
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Ay, dat is very good; excellent.
+
+Host	Peace, I say! hear mine host of the Garter. Am I
+	politic? am I subtle? am I a Machiavel? Shall I
+	lose my doctor? no; he gives me the potions and the
+	motions. Shall I lose my parson, my priest, my Sir
+	Hugh? no; he gives me the proverbs and the
+	no-verbs. Give me thy hand, terrestrial; so. Give me
+	thy hand, celestial; so. Boys of art, I have
+	deceived you both; I have directed you to wrong
+	places: your hearts are mighty, your skins are
+	whole, and let burnt sack be the issue. Come, lay
+	their swords to pawn. Follow me, lads of peace;
+	follow, follow, follow.
+
+SHALLOW	Trust me, a mad host. Follow, gentlemen, follow.
+
+SLENDER	[Aside]  O sweet Anne Page!
+
+	[Exeunt SHALLOW, SLENDER, PAGE, and Host]
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Ha, do I perceive dat? have you make-a de sot of
+	us, ha, ha?
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	This is well; he has made us his vlouting-stog. I
+	desire you that we may be friends; and let us knog
+	our prains together to be revenge on this same
+	scall, scurvy cogging companion, the host of the Garter.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, with all my heart. He promise to bring me
+	where is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me too.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray you, follow.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A street.
+
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS PAGE and ROBIN]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Nay, keep your way, little gallant; you were wont to
+	be a follower, but now you are a leader. Whether
+	had you rather lead mine eyes, or eye your master's heels?
+
+ROBIN	I had rather, forsooth, go before you like a man
+	than follow him like a dwarf.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	O, you are a flattering boy: now I see you'll be a courtier.
+
+	[Enter FORD]
+
+FORD	Well met, Mistress Page. Whither go you?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Truly, sir, to see your wife. Is she at home?
+
+FORD	Ay; and as idle as she may hang together, for want
+	of company. I think, if your husbands were dead,
+	you two would marry.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Be sure of that,--two other husbands.
+
+FORD	Where had you this pretty weather-cock?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	I cannot tell what the dickens his name is my
+	husband had him of. What do you call your knight's
+	name, sirrah?
+
+ROBIN	Sir John Falstaff.
+
+FORD	Sir John Falstaff!
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	He, he; I can never hit on's name. There is such a
+	league between my good man and he! Is your wife at
+	home indeed?
+
+FORD	Indeed she is.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	By your leave, sir: I am sick till I see her.
+
+	[Exeunt MISTRESS PAGE and ROBIN]
+
+FORD	Has Page any brains? hath he any eyes? hath he any
+	thinking? Sure, they sleep; he hath no use of them.
+	Why, this boy will carry a letter twenty mile, as
+	easy as a cannon will shoot point-blank twelve
+	score. He pieces out his wife's inclination; he
+	gives her folly motion and advantage: and now she's
+	going to my wife, and Falstaff's boy with her. A
+	man may hear this shower sing in the wind. And
+	Falstaff's boy with her! Good plots, they are laid;
+	and our revolted wives share damnation together.
+	Well; I will take him, then torture my wife, pluck
+	the borrowed veil of modesty from the so seeming
+	Mistress Page, divulge Page himself for a secure and
+	wilful Actaeon; and to these violent proceedings all
+	my neighbours shall cry aim.
+
+	[Clock heard]
+
+	The clock gives me my cue, and my assurance bids me
+	search: there I shall find Falstaff: I shall be
+	rather praised for this than mocked; for it is as
+	positive as the earth is firm that Falstaff is
+	there: I will go.
+
+	[Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, SLENDER, Host,
+	SIR HUGH EVANS, DOCTOR CAIUS, and RUGBY]
+
+
+SHALLOW	|
+	|
+PAGE	|  Well met, Master Ford.
+	|
+&C	|
+
+
+FORD	Trust me, a good knot: I have good cheer at home;
+	and I pray you all go with me.
+
+SHALLOW	I must excuse myself, Master Ford.
+
+SLENDER	And so must I, sir: we have appointed to dine with
+	Mistress Anne, and I would not break with her for
+	more money than I'll speak of.
+
+SHALLOW	We have lingered about a match between Anne Page and
+	my cousin Slender, and this day we shall have our answer.
+
+SLENDER	I hope I have your good will, father Page.
+
+PAGE	You have, Master Slender; I stand wholly for you:
+	but my wife, master doctor, is for you altogether.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Ay, be-gar; and de maid is love-a me: my nursh-a
+	Quickly tell me so mush.
+
+Host	What say you to young Master Fenton? he capers, he
+	dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he
+	speaks holiday, he smells April and May: he will
+	carry't, he will carry't; 'tis in his buttons; he
+	will carry't.
+
+PAGE	Not by my consent, I promise you. The gentleman is
+	of no having: he kept company with the wild prince
+	and Poins; he is of too high a region; he knows too
+	much. No, he shall not knit a knot in his fortunes
+	with the finger of my substance: if he take her,
+	let him take her simply; the wealth I have waits on
+	my consent, and my consent goes not that way.
+
+FORD	I beseech you heartily, some of you go home with me
+	to dinner: besides your cheer, you shall have
+	sport; I will show you a monster. Master doctor,
+	you shall go; so shall you, Master Page; and you, Sir Hugh.
+
+SHALLOW	Well, fare you well: we shall have the freer wooing
+	at Master Page's.
+
+	[Exeunt SHALLOW, and SLENDER]
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Go home, John Rugby; I come anon.
+
+	[Exit RUGBY]
+
+Host	Farewell, my hearts: I will to my honest knight
+	Falstaff, and drink canary with him.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FORD	[Aside]  I think I shall drink in pipe wine first
+	with him; I'll make him dance. Will you go, gentles?
+
+All	Have with you to see this monster.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in FORD'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS FORD and MISTRESS PAGE]
+
+MISTRESS FORD	What, John! What, Robert!
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Quickly, quickly! is the buck-basket--
+
+MISTRESS FORD	I warrant. What, Robin, I say!
+
+	[Enter Servants with a basket]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Come, come, come.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Here, set it down.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Give your men the charge; we must be brief.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Marry, as I told you before, John and Robert, be
+	ready here hard by in the brew-house: and when I
+	suddenly call you, come forth, and without any pause
+	or staggering take this basket on your shoulders:
+	that done, trudge with it in all haste, and carry
+	it among the whitsters in Datchet-mead, and there
+	empty it in the muddy ditch close by the Thames side.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	You will do it?
+
+MISTRESS FORD	I ha' told them over and over; they lack no
+	direction. Be gone, and come when you are called.
+
+	[Exeunt Servants]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Here comes little Robin.
+
+	[Enter ROBIN]
+
+MISTRESS FORD	How now, my eyas-musket! what news with you?
+
+ROBIN	My master, Sir John, is come in at your back-door,
+	Mistress Ford, and requests your company.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	You little Jack-a-Lent, have you been true to us?
+
+ROBIN	Ay, I'll be sworn. My master knows not of your
+	being here and hath threatened to put me into
+	everlasting liberty if I tell you of it; for he
+	swears he'll turn me away.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Thou'rt a good boy: this secrecy of thine shall be
+	a tailor to thee and shall make thee a new doublet
+	and hose. I'll go hide me.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Do so. Go tell thy master I am alone.
+
+	[Exit ROBIN]
+
+	Mistress Page, remember you your cue.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	I warrant thee; if I do not act it, hiss me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Go to, then: we'll use this unwholesome humidity,
+	this gross watery pumpion; we'll teach him to know
+	turtles from jays.
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF]
+
+FALSTAFF	Have I caught thee, my heavenly jewel? Why, now let
+	me die, for I have lived long enough: this is the
+	period of my ambition: O this blessed hour!
+
+MISTRESS FORD	O sweet Sir John!
+
+FALSTAFF	Mistress Ford, I cannot cog, I cannot prate,
+	Mistress Ford. Now shall I sin in my wish: I would
+	thy husband were dead: I'll speak it before the
+	best lord; I would make thee my lady.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	I your lady, Sir John! alas, I should be a pitiful lady!
+
+FALSTAFF	Let the court of France show me such another. I see
+	how thine eye would emulate the diamond: thou hast
+	the right arched beauty of the brow that becomes the
+	ship-tire, the tire-valiant, or any tire of
+	Venetian admittance.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	A plain kerchief, Sir John: my brows become nothing
+	else; nor that well neither.
+
+FALSTAFF	By the Lord, thou art a traitor to say so: thou
+	wouldst make an absolute courtier; and the firm
+	fixture of thy foot would give an excellent motion
+	to thy gait in a semi-circled farthingale. I see
+	what thou wert, if Fortune thy foe were not, Nature
+	thy friend. Come, thou canst not hide it.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Believe me, there is no such thing in me.
+
+FALSTAFF	What made me love thee? let that persuade thee
+	there's something extraordinary in thee. Come, I
+	cannot cog and say thou art this and that, like a
+	many of these lisping hawthorn-buds, that come like
+	women in men's apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury
+	in simple time; I cannot: but I love thee; none
+	but thee; and thou deservest it.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Do not betray me, sir. I fear you love Mistress Page.
+
+FALSTAFF	Thou mightst as well say I love to walk by the
+	Counter-gate, which is as hateful to me as the reek
+	of a lime-kiln.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Well, heaven knows how I love you; and you shall one
+	day find it.
+
+FALSTAFF	Keep in that mind; I'll deserve it.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Nay, I must tell you, so you do; or else I could not
+	be in that mind.
+
+ROBIN	[Within]  Mistress Ford, Mistress Ford! here's
+	Mistress Page at the door, sweating and blowing and
+	looking wildly, and would needs speak with you presently.
+
+FALSTAFF	She shall not see me: I will ensconce me behind the arras.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Pray you, do so: she's a very tattling woman.
+
+	[FALSTAFF hides himself]
+
+	[Re-enter MISTRESS PAGE and ROBIN]
+
+	What's the matter? how now!
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	O Mistress Ford, what have you done? You're shamed,
+	you're overthrown, you're undone for ever!
+
+MISTRESS FORD	What's the matter, good Mistress Page?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	O well-a-day, Mistress Ford! having an honest man
+	to your husband, to give him such cause of suspicion!
+
+MISTRESS FORD	What cause of suspicion?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	What cause of suspicion! Out pon you! how am I
+	mistook in you!
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Why, alas, what's the matter?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Your husband's coming hither, woman, with all the
+	officers in Windsor, to search for a gentleman that
+	he says is here now in the house by your consent, to
+	take an ill advantage of his assence: you are undone.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	'Tis not so, I hope.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Pray heaven it be not so, that you have such a man
+	here! but 'tis most certain your husband's coming,
+	with half Windsor at his heels, to search for such a
+	one. I come before to tell you. If you know
+	yourself clear, why, I am glad of it; but if you
+	have a friend here convey, convey him out. Be not
+	amazed; call all your senses to you; defend your
+	reputation, or bid farewell to your good life for ever.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	What shall I do? There is a gentleman my dear
+	friend; and I fear not mine own shame so much as his
+	peril: I had rather than a thousand pound he were
+	out of the house.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	For shame! never stand 'you had rather' and 'you
+	had rather:' your husband's here at hand, bethink
+	you of some conveyance: in the house you cannot
+	hide him. O, how have you deceived me! Look, here
+	is a basket: if he be of any reasonable stature, he
+	may creep in here; and throw foul linen upon him, as
+	if it were going to bucking: or--it is whiting-time
+	--send him by your two men to Datchet-mead.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	He's too big to go in there. What shall I do?
+
+FALSTAFF	[Coming forward]  Let me see't, let me see't, O, let
+	me see't! I'll in, I'll in. Follow your friend's
+	counsel. I'll in.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	What, Sir John Falstaff! Are these your letters, knight?
+
+FALSTAFF	I love thee. Help me away. Let me creep in here.
+	I'll never--
+
+	[Gets into the basket; they cover him with foul linen]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Help to cover your master, boy. Call your men,
+	Mistress Ford. You dissembling knight!
+
+MISTRESS FORD	What, John! Robert! John!
+
+	[Exit ROBIN]
+
+	[Re-enter Servants]
+
+	Go take up these clothes here quickly. Where's the
+	cowl-staff? look, how you drumble! Carry them to
+	the laundress in Datchet-meat; quickly, come.
+
+	[Enter FORD, PAGE, DOCTOR CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+FORD	Pray you, come near: if I suspect without cause,
+	why then make sport at me; then let me be your jest;
+	I deserve it. How now! whither bear you this?
+
+Servant	To the laundress, forsooth.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Why, what have you to do whither they bear it? You
+	were best meddle with buck-washing.
+
+FORD	Buck! I would I could wash myself of the buck!
+	Buck, buck, buck! Ay, buck; I warrant you, buck;
+	and of the season too, it shall appear.
+
+	[Exeunt Servants with the basket]
+
+	Gentlemen, I have dreamed to-night; I'll tell you my
+	dream. Here, here, here be my keys: ascend my
+	chambers; search, seek, find out: I'll warrant
+	we'll unkennel the fox. Let me stop this way first.
+
+	[Locking the door]
+
+	So, now uncape.
+
+PAGE	Good Master Ford, be contented: you wrong yourself too much.
+
+FORD	True, Master Page. Up, gentlemen: you shall see
+	sport anon: follow me, gentlemen.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	This is fery fantastical humours and jealousies.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, 'tis no the fashion of France; it is not
+	jealous in France.
+
+PAGE	Nay, follow him, gentlemen; see the issue of his search.
+
+	[Exeunt PAGE, DOCTOR CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Is there not a double excellency in this?
+
+MISTRESS FORD	I know not which pleases me better, that my husband
+	is deceived, or Sir John.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	What a taking was he in when your husband asked who
+	was in the basket!
+
+MISTRESS FORD	I am half afraid he will have need of washing; so
+	throwing him into the water will do him a benefit.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Hang him, dishonest rascal! I would all of the same
+	strain were in the same distress.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	I think my husband hath some special suspicion of
+	Falstaff's being here; for I never saw him so gross
+	in his jealousy till now.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	I will lay a plot to try that; and we will yet have
+	more tricks with Falstaff: his dissolute disease will
+	scarce obey this medicine.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Shall we send that foolish carrion, Mistress
+	Quickly, to him, and excuse his throwing into the
+	water; and give him another hope, to betray him to
+	another punishment?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	We will do it: let him be sent for to-morrow,
+	eight o'clock, to have amends.
+
+	[Re-enter FORD, PAGE, DOCTOR CAIUS, and
+	SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+FORD	I cannot find him: may be the knave bragged of that
+	he could not compass.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	[Aside to MISTRESS FORD]  Heard you that?
+
+MISTRESS FORD	You use me well, Master Ford, do you?
+
+FORD	Ay, I do so.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Heaven make you better than your thoughts!
+
+FORD	Amen!
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	You do yourself mighty wrong, Master Ford.
+
+FORD	Ay, ay; I must bear it.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	If there be any pody in the house, and in the
+	chambers, and in the coffers, and in the presses,
+	heaven forgive my sins at the day of judgment!
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, nor I too: there is no bodies.
+
+PAGE	Fie, fie, Master Ford! are you not ashamed? What
+	spirit, what devil suggests this imagination? I
+	would not ha' your distemper in this kind for the
+	wealth of Windsor Castle.
+
+FORD	'Tis my fault, Master Page: I suffer for it.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	You suffer for a pad conscience: your wife is as
+	honest a 'omans as I will desires among five
+	thousand, and five hundred too.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	By gar, I see 'tis an honest woman.
+
+FORD	Well, I promised you a dinner. Come, come, walk in
+	the Park: I pray you, pardon me; I will hereafter
+	make known to you why I have done this. Come,
+	wife; come, Mistress Page. I pray you, pardon me;
+	pray heartily, pardon me.
+
+PAGE	Let's go in, gentlemen; but, trust me, we'll mock
+	him. I do invite you to-morrow morning to my house
+	to breakfast: after, we'll a-birding together; I
+	have a fine hawk for the bush. Shall it be so?
+
+FORD	Any thing.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	If there is one, I shall make two in the company.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	If dere be one or two, I shall make-a the turd.
+
+FORD	Pray you, go, Master Page.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	I pray you now, remembrance tomorrow on the lousy
+	knave, mine host.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Dat is good; by gar, with all my heart!
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	A lousy knave, to have his gibes and his mockeries!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A room in PAGE'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter FENTON and ANNE PAGE]
+
+FENTON	I see I cannot get thy father's love;
+	Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan.
+
+ANNE PAGE	Alas, how then?
+
+FENTON	                  Why, thou must be thyself.
+	He doth object I am too great of birth--,
+	And that, my state being gall'd with my expense,
+	I seek to heal it only by his wealth:
+	Besides these, other bars he lays before me,
+	My riots past, my wild societies;
+	And tells me 'tis a thing impossible
+	I should love thee but as a property.
+
+ANNE PAGE	May be he tells you true.
+
+FENTON	No, heaven so speed me in my time to come!
+	Albeit I will confess thy father's wealth
+	Was the first motive that I woo'd thee, Anne:
+	Yet, wooing thee, I found thee of more value
+	Than stamps in gold or sums in sealed bags;
+	And 'tis the very riches of thyself
+	That now I aim at.
+
+ANNE PAGE	                  Gentle Master Fenton,
+	Yet seek my father's love; still seek it, sir:
+	If opportunity and humblest suit
+	Cannot attain it, why, then,--hark you hither!
+
+	[They converse apart]
+
+	[Enter SHALLOW, SLENDER, and MISTRESS QUICKLY]
+
+SHALLOW	Break their talk, Mistress Quickly: my kinsman shall
+	speak for himself.
+
+SLENDER	I'll make a shaft or a bolt on't: 'slid, 'tis but
+	venturing.
+
+SHALLOW	Be not dismayed.
+
+SLENDER	No, she shall not dismay me: I care not for that,
+	but that I am afeard.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Hark ye; Master Slender would speak a word with you.
+
+ANNE PAGE	I come to him.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	This is my father's choice.
+	O, what a world of vile ill-favor'd faults
+	Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a-year!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	And how does good Master Fenton? Pray you, a word with you.
+
+SHALLOW	She's coming; to her, coz. O boy, thou hadst a father!
+
+SLENDER	I had a father, Mistress Anne; my uncle can tell you
+	good jests of him. Pray you, uncle, tell Mistress
+	Anne the jest, how my father stole two geese out of
+	a pen, good uncle.
+
+SHALLOW	Mistress Anne, my cousin loves you.
+
+SLENDER	Ay, that I do; as well as I love any woman in
+	Gloucestershire.
+
+SHALLOW	He will maintain you like a gentlewoman.
+
+SLENDER	Ay, that I will, come cut and long-tail, under the
+	degree of a squire.
+
+SHALLOW	He will make you a hundred and fifty pounds jointure.
+
+ANNE PAGE	Good Master Shallow, let him woo for himself.
+
+SHALLOW	Marry, I thank you for it; I thank you for that good
+	comfort. She calls you, coz: I'll leave you.
+
+ANNE PAGE	Now, Master Slender,--
+
+SLENDER	Now, good Mistress Anne,--
+
+ANNE PAGE	What is your will?
+
+SLENDER	My will! 'od's heartlings, that's a pretty jest
+	indeed! I ne'er made my will yet, I thank heaven; I
+	am not such a sickly creature, I give heaven praise.
+
+ANNE PAGE	I mean, Master Slender, what would you with me?
+
+SLENDER	Truly, for mine own part, I would little or nothing
+	with you. Your father and my uncle hath made
+	motions: if it be my luck, so; if not, happy man be
+	his dole! They can tell you how things go better
+	than I can: you may ask your father; here he comes.
+
+	[Enter PAGE and MISTRESS PAGE]
+
+PAGE	Now, Master Slender: love him, daughter Anne.
+	Why, how now! what does Master Fenton here?
+	You wrong me, sir, thus still to haunt my house:
+	I told you, sir, my daughter is disposed of.
+
+FENTON	Nay, Master Page, be not impatient.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Good Master Fenton, come not to my child.
+
+PAGE	She is no match for you.
+
+FENTON	Sir, will you hear me?
+
+PAGE	No, good Master Fenton.
+	Come, Master Shallow; come, son Slender, in.
+	Knowing my mind, you wrong me, Master Fenton.
+
+	[Exeunt PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Speak to Mistress Page.
+
+FENTON	Good Mistress Page, for that I love your daughter
+	In such a righteous fashion as I do,
+	Perforce, against all cheques, rebukes and manners,
+	I must advance the colours of my love
+	And not retire: let me have your good will.
+
+ANNE PAGE	Good mother, do not marry me to yond fool.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	I mean it not; I seek you a better husband.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	That's my master, master doctor.
+
+ANNE PAGE	Alas, I had rather be set quick i' the earth
+	And bowl'd to death with turnips!
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Come, trouble not yourself. Good Master Fenton,
+	I will not be your friend nor enemy:
+	My daughter will I question how she loves you,
+	And as I find her, so am I affected.
+	Till then farewell, sir: she must needs go in;
+	Her father will be angry.
+
+FENTON	Farewell, gentle mistress: farewell, Nan.
+
+	[Exeunt MISTRESS PAGE and ANNE PAGE]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	This is my doing, now: 'Nay,' said I, 'will you cast
+	away your child on a fool, and a physician? Look on
+	Master Fenton:' this is my doing.
+
+FENTON	I thank thee; and I pray thee, once to-night
+	Give my sweet Nan this ring: there's for thy pains.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Now heaven send thee good fortune!
+
+	[Exit FENTON]
+
+	A kind heart he hath: a woman would run through
+	fire and water for such a kind heart. But yet I
+	would my master had Mistress Anne; or I would
+	Master Slender had her; or, in sooth, I would Master
+	Fenton had her; I will do what I can for them all
+	three; for so I have promised, and I'll be as good
+	as my word; but speciously for Master Fenton. Well,
+	I must of another errand to Sir John Falstaff from
+	my two mistresses: what a beast am I to slack it!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	A room in the Garter Inn.
+
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH]
+
+FALSTAFF	Bardolph, I say,--
+
+BARDOLPH	Here, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	Go fetch me a quart of sack; put a toast in't.
+
+	[Exit BARDOLPH]
+
+	Have I lived to be carried in a basket, like a
+	barrow of butcher's offal, and to be thrown in the
+	Thames? Well, if I be served such another trick,
+	I'll have my brains ta'en out and buttered, and give
+	them to a dog for a new-year's gift. The rogues
+	slighted me into the river with as little remorse as
+	they would have drowned a blind bitch's puppies,
+	fifteen i' the litter: and you may know by my size
+	that I have a kind of alacrity in sinking; if the
+	bottom were as deep as hell, I should down. I had
+	been drowned, but that the shore was shelvy and
+	shallow,--a death that I abhor; for the water swells
+	a man; and what a thing should I have been when I
+	had been swelled! I should have been a mountain of mummy.
+
+	[Re-enter BARDOLPH with sack]
+
+BARDOLPH	Here's Mistress Quickly, sir, to speak with you.
+
+FALSTAFF	Let me pour in some sack to the Thames water; for my
+	belly's as cold as if I had swallowed snowballs for
+	pills to cool the reins. Call her in.
+
+BARDOLPH	Come in, woman!
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	By your leave; I cry you mercy: give your worship
+	good morrow.
+
+FALSTAFF	Take away these chalices. Go brew me a pottle of
+	sack finely.
+
+BARDOLPH	With eggs, sir?
+
+FALSTAFF	Simple of itself; I'll no pullet-sperm in my brewage.
+
+	[Exit BARDOLPH]
+	How now!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Marry, sir, I come to your worship from Mistress Ford.
+
+FALSTAFF	Mistress Ford! I have had ford enough; I was thrown
+	into the ford; I have my belly full of ford.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Alas the day! good heart, that was not her fault:
+	she does so take on with her men; they mistook their erection.
+
+FALSTAFF	So did I mine, to build upon a foolish woman's promise.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Well, she laments, sir, for it, that it would yearn
+	your heart to see it. Her husband goes this morning
+	a-birding; she desires you once more to come to her
+	between eight and nine: I must carry her word
+	quickly: she'll make you amends, I warrant you.
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, I will visit her: tell her so; and bid her
+	think what a man is: let her consider his frailty,
+	and then judge of my merit.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	I will tell her.
+
+FALSTAFF	Do so. Between nine and ten, sayest thou?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Eight and nine, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, be gone: I will not miss her.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Peace be with you, sir.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FALSTAFF	I marvel I hear not of Master Brook; he sent me word
+	to stay within: I like his money well. O, here he comes.
+
+	[Enter FORD]
+
+FORD	Bless you, sir!
+
+FALSTAFF	Now, master Brook, you come to know what hath passed
+	between me and Ford's wife?
+
+FORD	That, indeed, Sir John, is my business.
+
+FALSTAFF	Master Brook, I will not lie to you: I was at her
+	house the hour she appointed me.
+
+FORD	And sped you, sir?
+
+FALSTAFF	Very ill-favoredly, Master Brook.
+
+FORD	How so, sir? Did she change her determination?
+
+FALSTAFF	No, Master Brook; but the peaking Cornuto her
+	husband, Master Brook, dwelling in a continual
+	'larum of jealousy, comes me in the instant of our
+	encounter, after we had embraced, kissed, protested,
+	and, as it were, spoke the prologue of our comedy;
+	and at his heels a rabble of his companions, thither
+	provoked and instigated by his distemper, and,
+	forsooth, to search his house for his wife's love.
+
+FORD	What, while you were there?
+
+FALSTAFF	While I was there.
+
+FORD	And did he search for you, and could not find you?
+
+FALSTAFF	You shall hear. As good luck would have it, comes
+	in one Mistress Page; gives intelligence of Ford's
+	approach; and, in her invention and Ford's wife's
+	distraction, they conveyed me into a buck-basket.
+
+FORD	A buck-basket!
+
+FALSTAFF	By the Lord, a buck-basket! rammed me in with foul
+	shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, greasy
+	napkins; that, Master Brook, there was the rankest
+	compound of villanous smell that ever offended nostril.
+
+FORD	And how long lay you there?
+
+FALSTAFF	Nay, you shall hear, Master Brook, what I have
+	suffered to bring this woman to evil for your good.
+	Being thus crammed in the basket, a couple of Ford's
+	knaves, his hinds, were called forth by their
+	mistress to carry me in the name of foul clothes to
+	Datchet-lane: they took me on their shoulders; met
+	the jealous knave their master in the door, who
+	asked them once or twice what they had in their
+	basket: I quaked for fear, lest the lunatic knave
+	would have searched it; but fate, ordaining he
+	should be a cuckold, held his hand. Well: on went he
+	for a search, and away went I for foul clothes. But
+	mark the sequel, Master Brook: I suffered the pangs
+	of three several deaths; first, an intolerable
+	fright, to be detected with a jealous rotten
+	bell-wether; next, to be compassed, like a good
+	bilbo, in the circumference of a peck, hilt to
+	point, heel to head; and then, to be stopped in,
+	like a strong distillation, with stinking clothes
+	that fretted in their own grease: think of that,--a
+	man of my kidney,--think of that,--that am as subject
+	to heat as butter; a man of continual dissolution
+	and thaw: it was a miracle to scape suffocation.
+	And in the height of this bath, when I was more than
+	half stewed in grease, like a Dutch dish, to be
+	thrown into the Thames, and cooled, glowing hot,
+	in that surge, like a horse-shoe; think of
+	that,--hissing hot,--think of that, Master Brook.
+
+FORD	In good sadness, I am sorry that for my sake you
+	have sufferd all this. My suit then is desperate;
+	you'll undertake her no more?
+
+FALSTAFF	Master Brook, I will be thrown into Etna, as I have
+	been into Thames, ere I will leave her thus. Her
+	husband is this morning gone a-birding: I have
+	received from her another embassy of meeting; 'twixt
+	eight and nine is the hour, Master Brook.
+
+FORD	'Tis past eight already, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	Is it? I will then address me to my appointment.
+	Come to me at your convenient leisure, and you shall
+	know how I speed; and the conclusion shall be
+	crowned with your enjoying her. Adieu. You shall
+	have her, Master Brook; Master Brook, you shall
+	cuckold Ford.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FORD	Hum! ha! is this a vision? is this a dream? do I
+	sleep? Master Ford awake! awake, Master Ford!
+	there's a hole made in your best coat, Master Ford.
+	This 'tis to be married! this 'tis to have linen
+	and buck-baskets! Well, I will proclaim myself
+	what I am: I will now take the lecher; he is at my
+	house; he cannot 'scape me; 'tis impossible he
+	should; he cannot creep into a halfpenny purse,
+	nor into a pepper-box: but, lest the devil that
+	guides him should aid him, I will search
+	impossible places. Though what I am I cannot avoid,
+	yet to be what I would not shall not make me tame:
+	if I have horns to make one mad, let the proverb go
+	with me: I'll be horn-mad.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A street.
+
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS QUICKLY, and
+	WILLIAM PAGE]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Is he at Master Ford's already, think'st thou?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Sure he is by this, or will be presently: but,
+	truly, he is very courageous mad about his throwing
+	into the water. Mistress Ford desires you to come suddenly.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	I'll be with her by and by; I'll but bring my young
+	man here to school. Look, where his master comes;
+	'tis a playing-day, I see.
+
+	[Enter SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+	How now, Sir Hugh! no school to-day?
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	No; Master Slender is let the boys leave to play.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Blessing of his heart!
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Sir Hugh, my husband says my son profits nothing in
+	the world at his book. I pray you, ask him some
+	questions in his accidence.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Come hither, William; hold up your head; come.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Come on, sirrah; hold up your head; answer your
+	master, be not afraid.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	William, how many numbers is in nouns?
+
+WILLIAM PAGE	Two.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Truly, I thought there had been one number more,
+	because they say, ''Od's nouns.'
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Peace your tattlings! What is 'fair,' William?
+
+WILLIAM PAGE	Pulcher.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Polecats! there are fairer things than polecats, sure.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	You are a very simplicity 'oman: I pray you peace.
+	What is 'lapis,' William?
+
+WILLIAM PAGE	A stone.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	And what is 'a stone,' William?
+
+WILLIAM PAGE	A pebble.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	No, it is 'lapis:' I pray you, remember in your prain.
+
+WILLIAM PAGE	Lapis.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	That is a good William. What is he, William, that
+	does lend articles?
+
+WILLIAM PAGE	Articles are borrowed of the pronoun, and be thus
+	declined, Singulariter, nominativo, hic, haec, hoc.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Nominativo, hig, hag, hog; pray you, mark:
+	genitivo, hujus. Well, what is your accusative case?
+
+WILLIAM PAGE	Accusativo, hinc.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	I pray you, have your remembrance, child,
+	accusative, hung, hang, hog.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	'Hang-hog' is Latin for bacon, I warrant you.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Leave your prabbles, 'oman. What is the focative
+	case, William?
+
+WILLIAM PAGE	O,--vocativo, O.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Remember, William; focative is caret.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	And that's a good root.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	'Oman, forbear.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Peace!
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	What is your genitive case plural, William?
+
+WILLIAM PAGE	Genitive case!
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Ay.
+
+WILLIAM PAGE	Genitive,--horum, harum, horum.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Vengeance of Jenny's case! fie on her! never name
+	her, child, if she be a whore.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	For shame, 'oman.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	You do ill to teach the child such words: he
+	teaches him to hick and to hack, which they'll do
+	fast enough of themselves, and to call 'horum:' fie upon you!
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	'Oman, art thou lunatics? hast thou no
+	understandings for thy cases and the numbers of the
+	genders? Thou art as foolish Christian creatures as
+	I would desires.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Prithee, hold thy peace.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Show me now, William, some declensions of your pronouns.
+
+WILLIAM PAGE	Forsooth, I have forgot.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	It is qui, quae, quod: if you forget your 'quies,'
+	your 'quaes,' and your 'quods,' you must be
+	preeches. Go your ways, and play; go.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	He is a better scholar than I thought he was.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	He is a good sprag memory. Farewell, Mistress Page.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Adieu, good Sir Hugh.
+
+	[Exit SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+	Get you home, boy. Come, we stay too long.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A room in FORD'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF and MISTRESS FORD]
+
+FALSTAFF	Mistress Ford, your sorrow hath eaten up my
+	sufferance. I see you are obsequious in your love,
+	and I profess requital to a hair's breadth; not
+	only, Mistress Ford, in the simple
+	office of love, but in all the accoutrement,
+	complement and ceremony of it. But are you
+	sure of your husband now?
+
+MISTRESS FORD	He's a-birding, sweet Sir John.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	[Within]  What, ho, gossip Ford! what, ho!
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Step into the chamber, Sir John.
+
+	[Exit FALSTAFF]
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS PAGE]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	How now, sweetheart! who's at home besides yourself?
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Why, none but mine own people.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Indeed!
+
+MISTRESS FORD	No, certainly.
+
+	[Aside to her]
+
+	Speak louder.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Truly, I am so glad you have nobody here.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Why?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Why, woman, your husband is in his old lunes again:
+	he so takes on yonder with my husband; so rails
+	against all married mankind; so curses all Eve's
+	daughters, of what complexion soever; and so buffets
+	himself on the forehead, crying, 'Peer out, peer
+	out!' that any madness I ever yet beheld seemed but
+	tameness, civility and patience, to this his
+	distemper he is in now: I am glad the fat knight is not here.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Why, does he talk of him?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Of none but him; and swears he was carried out, the
+	last time he searched for him, in a basket; protests
+	to my husband he is now here, and hath drawn him and
+	the rest of their company from their sport, to make
+	another experiment of his suspicion: but I am glad
+	the knight is not here; now he shall see his own foolery.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	How near is he, Mistress Page?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Hard by; at street end; he will be here anon.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	I am undone! The knight is here.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Why then you are utterly shamed, and he's but a dead
+	man. What a woman are you!--Away with him, away
+	with him! better shame than murder.
+
+FORD	Which way should be go? how should I bestow him?
+	Shall I put him into the basket again?
+
+	[Re-enter FALSTAFF]
+
+FALSTAFF	No, I'll come no more i' the basket. May I not go
+	out ere he come?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Alas, three of Master Ford's brothers watch the door
+	with pistols, that none shall issue out; otherwise
+	you might slip away ere he came. But what make you here?
+
+FALSTAFF	What shall I do? I'll creep up into the chimney.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	There they always use to discharge their
+	birding-pieces. Creep into the kiln-hole.
+
+FALSTAFF	Where is it?
+
+MISTRESS FORD	He will seek there, on my word. Neither press,
+	coffer, chest, trunk, well, vault, but he hath an
+	abstract for the remembrance of such places, and
+	goes to them by his note: there is no hiding you in the house.
+
+FALSTAFF	I'll go out then.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	If you go out in your own semblance, you die, Sir
+	John. Unless you go out disguised--
+
+MISTRESS FORD	How might we disguise him?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Alas the day, I know not! There is no woman's gown
+	big enough for him otherwise he might put on a hat,
+	a muffler and a kerchief, and so escape.
+
+FALSTAFF	Good hearts, devise something: any extremity rather
+	than a mischief.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	My maid's aunt, the fat woman of Brentford, has a
+	gown above.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	On my word, it will serve him; she's as big as he
+	is: and there's her thrummed hat and her muffler
+	too. Run up, Sir John.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Go, go, sweet Sir John: Mistress Page and I will
+	look some linen for your head.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Quick, quick! we'll come dress you straight: put
+	on the gown the while.
+
+	[Exit FALSTAFF]
+
+MISTRESS FORD	I would my husband would meet him in this shape: he
+	cannot abide the old woman of Brentford; he swears
+	she's a witch; forbade her my house and hath
+	threatened to beat her.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Heaven guide him to thy husband's cudgel, and the
+	devil guide his cudgel afterwards!
+
+MISTRESS FORD	But is my husband coming?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Ah, in good sadness, is he; and talks of the basket
+	too, howsoever he hath had intelligence.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	We'll try that; for I'll appoint my men to carry the
+	basket again, to meet him at the door with it, as
+	they did last time.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Nay, but he'll be here presently: let's go dress him
+	like the witch of Brentford.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	I'll first direct my men what they shall do with the
+	basket. Go up; I'll bring linen for him straight.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Hang him, dishonest varlet! we cannot misuse him enough.
+	We'll leave a proof, by that which we will do,
+	Wives may be merry, and yet honest too:
+	We do not act that often jest and laugh;
+	'Tis old, but true, Still swine eat all the draff.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter MISTRESS FORD with two Servants]
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Go, sirs, take the basket again on your shoulders:
+	your master is hard at door; if he bid you set it
+	down, obey him: quickly, dispatch.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+First Servant	Come, come, take it up.
+
+Second Servant	Pray heaven it be not full of knight again.
+
+First Servant	I hope not; I had as lief bear so much lead.
+
+	[Enter FORD, PAGE, SHALLOW, DOCTOR CAIUS, and
+	SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+FORD	Ay, but if it prove true, Master Page, have you any
+	way then to unfool me again? Set down the basket,
+	villain! Somebody call my wife. Youth in a basket!
+	O you panderly rascals! there's a knot, a ging, a
+	pack, a conspiracy against me: now shall the devil
+	be shamed. What, wife, I say! Come, come forth!
+	Behold what honest clothes you send forth to bleaching!
+
+PAGE	Why, this passes, Master Ford; you are not to go
+	loose any longer; you must be pinioned.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Why, this is lunatics! this is mad as a mad dog!
+
+SHALLOW	Indeed, Master Ford, this is not well, indeed.
+
+FORD	So say I too, sir.
+
+	[Re-enter MISTRESS FORD]
+
+	Come hither, Mistress Ford; Mistress Ford the honest
+	woman, the modest wife, the virtuous creature, that
+	hath the jealous fool to her husband! I suspect
+	without cause, mistress, do I?
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Heaven be my witness you do, if you suspect me in
+	any dishonesty.
+
+FORD	Well said, brazen-face! hold it out. Come forth, sirrah!
+
+	[Pulling clothes out of the basket]
+
+PAGE	This passes!
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Are you not ashamed? let the clothes alone.
+
+FORD	I shall find you anon.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	'Tis unreasonable! Will you take up your wife's
+	clothes? Come away.
+
+FORD	Empty the basket, I say!
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Why, man, why?
+
+FORD	Master Page, as I am a man, there was one conveyed
+	out of my house yesterday in this basket: why may
+	not he be there again? In my house I am sure he is:
+	my intelligence is true; my jealousy is reasonable.
+	Pluck me out all the linen.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	If you find a man there, he shall die a flea's death.
+
+PAGE	Here's no man.
+
+SHALLOW	By my fidelity, this is not well, Master Ford; this
+	wrongs you.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Master Ford, you must pray, and not follow the
+	imaginations of your own heart: this is jealousies.
+
+FORD	Well, he's not here I seek for.
+
+PAGE	No, nor nowhere else but in your brain.
+
+FORD	Help to search my house this one time. If I find
+	not what I seek, show no colour for my extremity; let
+	me for ever be your table-sport; let them say of
+	me, 'As jealous as Ford, Chat searched a hollow
+	walnut for his wife's leman.' Satisfy me once more;
+	once more search with me.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	What, ho, Mistress Page! come you and the old woman
+	down; my husband will come into the chamber.
+
+FORD	Old woman! what old woman's that?
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Nay, it is my maid's aunt of Brentford.
+
+FORD	A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean! Have I not
+	forbid her my house? She comes of errands, does
+	she? We are simple men; we do not know what's
+	brought to pass under the profession of
+	fortune-telling. She works by charms, by spells,
+	by the figure, and such daubery as this is, beyond
+	our element we know nothing. Come down, you witch,
+	you hag, you; come down, I say!
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Nay, good, sweet husband! Good gentlemen, let him
+	not strike the old woman.
+
+	[Re-enter FALSTAFF in woman's clothes, and
+	MISTRESS PAGE]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Come, Mother Prat; come, give me your hand.
+
+FORD	I'll prat her.
+
+	[Beating him]
+
+	Out of my door, you witch, you hag, you baggage, you
+	polecat, you runyon! out, out! I'll conjure you,
+	I'll fortune-tell you.
+
+	[Exit FALSTAFF]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Are you not ashamed? I think you have killed the
+	poor woman.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Nay, he will do it. 'Tis a goodly credit for you.
+
+FORD	Hang her, witch!
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	By the yea and no, I think the 'oman is a witch
+	indeed: I like not when a 'oman has a great peard;
+	I spy a great peard under his muffler.
+
+FORD	Will you follow, gentlemen? I beseech you, follow;
+	see but the issue of my jealousy: if I cry out thus
+	upon no trail, never trust me when I open again.
+
+PAGE	Let's obey his humour a little further: come,
+	gentlemen.
+
+	[Exeunt FORD, PAGE, SHALLOW, DOCTOR CAIUS, and
+	SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Trust me, he beat him most pitifully.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Nay, by the mass, that he did not; he beat him most
+	unpitifully, methought.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	I'll have the cudgel hallowed and hung o'er the
+	altar; it hath done meritorious service.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	What think you? may we, with the warrant of
+	womanhood and the witness of a good conscience,
+	pursue him with any further revenge?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	The spirit of wantonness is, sure, scared out of
+	him: if the devil have him not in fee-simple, with
+	fine and recovery, he will never, I think, in the
+	way of waste, attempt us again.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Shall we tell our husbands how we have served him?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Yes, by all means; if it be but to scrape the
+	figures out of your husband's brains. If they can
+	find in their hearts the poor unvirtuous fat knight
+	shall be any further afflicted, we two will still be
+	the ministers.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	I'll warrant they'll have him publicly shamed: and
+	methinks there would be no period to the jest,
+	should he not be publicly shamed.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Come, to the forge with it then; shape it: I would
+	not have things cool.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in the Garter Inn.
+
+
+	[Enter Host and BARDOLPH]
+
+BARDOLPH	Sir, the Germans desire to have three of your
+	horses: the duke himself will be to-morrow at
+	court, and they are going to meet him.
+
+Host	What duke should that be comes so secretly? I hear
+	not of him in the court. Let me speak with the
+	gentlemen: they speak English?
+
+BARDOLPH	Ay, sir; I'll call them to you.
+
+Host	They shall have my horses; but I'll make them pay;
+	I'll sauce them: they have had my house a week at
+	command; I have turned away my other guests: they
+	must come off; I'll sauce them. Come.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A room in FORD'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter PAGE, FORD, MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS FORD,
+	and SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	'Tis one of the best discretions of a 'oman as ever
+	I did look upon.
+
+PAGE	And did he send you both these letters at an instant?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Within a quarter of an hour.
+
+FORD	Pardon me, wife. Henceforth do what thou wilt;
+	I rather will suspect the sun with cold
+	Than thee with wantonness: now doth thy honour stand
+	In him that was of late an heretic,
+	As firm as faith.
+
+PAGE	'Tis well, 'tis well; no more:
+	Be not as extreme in submission
+	As in offence.
+	But let our plot go forward: let our wives
+	Yet once again, to make us public sport,
+	Appoint a meeting with this old fat fellow,
+	Where we may take him and disgrace him for it.
+
+FORD	There is no better way than that they spoke of.
+
+PAGE	How? to send him word they'll meet him in the park
+	at midnight? Fie, fie! he'll never come.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	You say he has been thrown in the rivers and has
+	been grievously peaten as an old 'oman: methinks
+	there should be terrors in him that he should not
+	come; methinks his flesh is punished, he shall have
+	no desires.
+
+PAGE	So think I too.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Devise but how you'll use him when he comes,
+	And let us two devise to bring him thither.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	There is an old tale goes that Herne the hunter,
+	Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest,
+	Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight,
+	Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns;
+	And there he blasts the tree and takes the cattle
+	And makes milch-kine yield blood and shakes a chain
+	In a most hideous and dreadful manner:
+	You have heard of such a spirit, and well you know
+	The superstitious idle-headed eld
+	Received and did deliver to our age
+	This tale of Herne the hunter for a truth.
+
+PAGE	Why, yet there want not many that do fear
+	In deep of night to walk by this Herne's oak:
+	But what of this?
+
+MISTRESS FORD	                  Marry, this is our device;
+	That Falstaff at that oak shall meet with us.
+
+PAGE	Well, let it not be doubted but he'll come:
+	And in this shape when you have brought him thither,
+	What shall be done with him? what is your plot?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	That likewise have we thought upon, and thus:
+	Nan Page my daughter and my little son
+	And three or four more of their growth we'll dress
+	Like urchins, ouphes and fairies, green and white,
+	With rounds of waxen tapers on their heads,
+	And rattles in their hands: upon a sudden,
+	As Falstaff, she and I, are newly met,
+	Let them from forth a sawpit rush at once
+	With some diffused song: upon their sight,
+	We two in great amazedness will fly:
+	Then let them all encircle him about
+	And, fairy-like, to-pinch the unclean knight,
+	And ask him why, that hour of fairy revel,
+	In their so sacred paths he dares to tread
+	In shape profane.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	                  And till he tell the truth,
+	Let the supposed fairies pinch him sound
+	And burn him with their tapers.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	The truth being known,
+	We'll all present ourselves, dis-horn the spirit,
+	And mock him home to Windsor.
+
+FORD	The children must
+	Be practised well to this, or they'll ne'er do't.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	I will teach the children their behaviors; and I
+	will be like a jack-an-apes also, to burn the
+	knight with my taber.
+
+FORD	That will be excellent. I'll go and buy them vizards.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	My Nan shall be the queen of all the fairies,
+	Finely attired in a robe of white.
+
+PAGE	That silk will I go buy.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+		   And in that time
+	Shall Master Slender steal my Nan away
+	And marry her at Eton. Go send to Falstaff straight.
+
+FORD	Nay I'll to him again in name of Brook
+	He'll tell me all his purpose: sure, he'll come.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Fear not you that. Go get us properties
+	And tricking for our fairies.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Let us about it: it is admirable pleasures and fery
+	honest knaveries.
+
+	[Exeunt PAGE, FORD, and SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Go, Mistress Ford,
+	Send quickly to Sir John, to know his mind.
+
+	[Exit MISTRESS FORD]
+
+	I'll to the doctor: he hath my good will,
+	And none but he, to marry with Nan Page.
+	That Slender, though well landed, is an idiot;
+	And he my husband best of all affects.
+	The doctor is well money'd, and his friends
+	Potent at court: he, none but he, shall have her,
+	Though twenty thousand worthier come to crave her.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	A room in the Garter Inn.
+
+
+	[Enter Host and SIMPLE]
+
+Host	What wouldst thou have, boor? what: thick-skin?
+	speak, breathe, discuss; brief, short, quick, snap.
+
+SIMPLE	Marry, sir, I come to speak with Sir John Falstaff
+	from Master Slender.
+
+Host	There's his chamber, his house, his castle, his
+	standing-bed and truckle-bed; 'tis painted about
+	with the story of the Prodigal, fresh and new. Go
+	knock and call; hell speak like an Anthropophaginian
+	unto thee: knock, I say.
+
+SIMPLE	There's an old woman, a fat woman, gone up into his
+	chamber: I'll be so bold as stay, sir, till she come
+	down; I come to speak with her, indeed.
+
+Host	Ha! a fat woman! the knight may be robbed: I'll
+	call. Bully knight! bully Sir John! speak from
+	thy lungs military: art thou there? it is thine
+	host, thine Ephesian, calls.
+
+FALSTAFF	[Above]  How now, mine host!
+
+Host	Here's a Bohemian-Tartar tarries the coming down of
+	thy fat woman. Let her descend, bully, let her
+	descend; my chambers are honourable: fie! privacy?
+	fie!
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF]
+
+FALSTAFF	There was, mine host, an old fat woman even now with
+	me; but she's gone.
+
+SIMPLE	Pray you, sir, was't not the wise woman of
+	Brentford?
+
+FALSTAFF	Ay, marry, was it, mussel-shell: what would you with her?
+
+SIMPLE	My master, sir, Master Slender, sent to her, seeing
+	her go through the streets, to know, sir, whether
+	one Nym, sir, that beguiled him of a chain, had the
+	chain or no.
+
+FALSTAFF	I spake with the old woman about it.
+
+SIMPLE	And what says she, I pray, sir?
+
+FALSTAFF	Marry, she says that the very same man that
+	beguiled Master Slender of his chain cozened him of
+	it.
+
+SIMPLE	I would I could have spoken with the woman herself;
+	I had other things to have spoken with her too from
+	him.
+
+FALSTAFF	What are they? let us know.
+
+Host	Ay, come; quick.
+
+SIMPLE	I may not conceal them, sir.
+
+Host	Conceal them, or thou diest.
+
+SIMPLE	Why, sir, they were nothing but about Mistress Anne
+	Page; to know if it were my master's fortune to
+	have her or no.
+
+FALSTAFF	'Tis, 'tis his fortune.
+
+SIMPLE	What, sir?
+
+FALSTAFF	To have her, or no. Go; say the woman told me so.
+
+SIMPLE	May I be bold to say so, sir?
+
+FALSTAFF	Ay, sir; like who more bold.
+
+SIMPLE	I thank your worship: I shall make my master glad
+	with these tidings.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Host	Thou art clerkly, thou art clerkly, Sir John. Was
+	there a wise woman with thee?
+
+FALSTAFF	Ay, that there was, mine host; one that hath taught
+	me more wit than ever I learned before in my life;
+	and I paid nothing for it neither, but was paid for
+	my learning.
+
+	[Enter BARDOLPH]
+
+BARDOLPH	Out, alas, sir! cozenage, mere cozenage!
+
+Host	Where be my horses? speak well of them, varletto.
+
+BARDOLPH	Run away with the cozeners; for so soon as I came
+	beyond Eton, they threw me off from behind one of
+	them, in a slough of mire; and set spurs and away,
+	like three German devils, three Doctor Faustuses.
+
+Host	They are gone but to meet the duke, villain: do not
+	say they be fled; Germans are honest men.
+
+	[Enter SIR HUGH EVANS]
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Where is mine host?
+
+Host	What is the matter, sir?
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Have a care of your entertainments: there is a
+	friend of mine come to town tells me there is three
+	cozen-germans that has cozened all the hosts of
+	Readins, of Maidenhead, of Colebrook, of horses and
+	money. I tell you for good will, look you: you
+	are wise and full of gibes and vlouting-stocks, and
+	'tis not convenient you should be cozened. Fare you well.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter DOCTOR CAIUS]
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Vere is mine host de Jarteer?
+
+Host	Here, master doctor, in perplexity and doubtful dilemma.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	I cannot tell vat is dat: but it is tell-a me dat
+	you make grand preparation for a duke de Jamany: by
+	my trot, dere is no duke dat the court is know to
+	come. I tell you for good vill: adieu.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Host	Hue and cry, villain, go! Assist me, knight. I am
+	undone! Fly, run, hue and cry, villain! I am undone!
+
+	[Exeunt Host and BARDOLPH]
+
+FALSTAFF	I would all the world might be cozened; for I have
+	been cozened and beaten too. If it should come to
+	the ear of the court, how I have been transformed
+	and how my transformation hath been washed and
+	cudgelled, they would melt me out of my fat drop by
+	drop and liquor fishermen's boots with me; I warrant
+	they would whip me with their fine wits till I were
+	as crest-fallen as a dried pear. I never prospered
+	since I forswore myself at primero. Well, if my
+	wind were but long enough to say my prayers, I would repent.
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY]
+
+	Now, whence come you?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	From the two parties, forsooth.
+
+FALSTAFF	The devil take one party and his dam the other! and
+	so they shall be both bestowed. I have suffered more
+	for their sakes, more than the villanous inconstancy
+	of man's disposition is able to bear.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	And have not they suffered? Yes, I warrant;
+	speciously one of them; Mistress Ford, good heart,
+	is beaten black and blue, that you cannot see a
+	white spot about her.
+
+FALSTAFF	What tellest thou me of black and blue? I was
+	beaten myself into all the colours of the rainbow;
+	and I was like to be apprehended for the witch of
+	Brentford: but that my admirable dexterity of wit,
+	my counterfeiting the action of an old woman,
+	delivered me, the knave constable had set me i' the
+	stocks, i' the common stocks, for a witch.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Sir, let me speak with you in your chamber: you
+	shall hear how things go; and, I warrant, to your
+	content. Here is a letter will say somewhat. Good
+	hearts, what ado here is to bring you together!
+	Sure, one of you does not serve heaven well, that
+	you are so crossed.
+
+FALSTAFF	Come up into my chamber.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Another room in the Garter Inn.
+
+
+	[Enter FENTON and Host]
+
+Host	Master Fenton, talk not to me; my mind is heavy: I
+	will give over all.
+
+FENTON	Yet hear me speak. Assist me in my purpose,
+	And, as I am a gentleman, I'll give thee
+	A hundred pound in gold more than your loss.
+
+Host	I will hear you, Master Fenton; and I will at the
+	least keep your counsel.
+
+FENTON	From time to time I have acquainted you
+	With the dear love I bear to fair Anne Page;
+	Who mutually hath answer'd my affection,
+	So far forth as herself might be her chooser,
+	Even to my wish: I have a letter from her
+	Of such contents as you will wonder at;
+	The mirth whereof so larded with my matter,
+	That neither singly can be manifested,
+	Without the show of both; fat Falstaff
+	Hath a great scene: the image of the jest
+	I'll show you here at large. Hark, good mine host.
+	To-night at Herne's oak, just 'twixt twelve and one,
+	Must my sweet Nan present the Fairy Queen;
+	The purpose why, is here: in which disguise,
+	While other jests are something rank on foot,
+	Her father hath commanded her to slip
+	Away with Slender and with him at Eton
+	Immediately to marry: she hath consented: Now, sir,
+	Her mother, ever strong against that match
+	And firm for Doctor Caius, hath appointed
+	That he shall likewise shuffle her away,
+	While other sports are tasking of their minds,
+	And at the deanery, where a priest attends,
+	Straight marry her: to this her mother's plot
+	She seemingly obedient likewise hath
+	Made promise to the doctor. Now, thus it rests:
+	Her father means she shall be all in white,
+	And in that habit, when Slender sees his time
+	To take her by the hand and bid her go,
+	She shall go with him: her mother hath intended,
+	The better to denote her to the doctor,
+	For they must all be mask'd and vizarded,
+	That quaint in green she shall be loose enrobed,
+	With ribands pendent, flaring 'bout her head;
+	And when the doctor spies his vantage ripe,
+	To pinch her by the hand, and, on that token,
+	The maid hath given consent to go with him.
+
+Host	Which means she to deceive, father or mother?
+
+FENTON	Both, my good host, to go along with me:
+	And here it rests, that you'll procure the vicar
+	To stay for me at church 'twixt twelve and one,
+	And, in the lawful name of marrying,
+	To give our hearts united ceremony.
+
+Host	Well, husband your device; I'll to the vicar:
+	Bring you the maid, you shall not lack a priest.
+
+FENTON	So shall I evermore be bound to thee;
+	Besides, I'll make a present recompense.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A room in the Garter Inn.
+
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF and MISTRESS QUICKLY]
+
+FALSTAFF	Prithee, no more prattling; go. I'll hold. This is
+	the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd
+	numbers. Away I go. They say there is divinity in
+	odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death. Away!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	I'll provide you a chain; and I'll do what I can to
+	get you a pair of horns.
+
+FALSTAFF	Away, I say; time wears: hold up your head, and mince.
+
+	[Exit MISTRESS QUICKLY]
+
+	[Enter FORD]
+
+	How now, Master Brook! Master Brook, the matter
+	will be known to-night, or never. Be you in the
+	Park about midnight, at Herne's oak, and you shall
+	see wonders.
+
+FORD	Went you not to her yesterday, sir, as you told me
+	you had appointed?
+
+FALSTAFF	I went to her, Master Brook, as you see, like a poor
+	old man: but I came from her, Master Brook, like a
+	poor old woman. That same knave Ford, her husband,
+	hath the finest mad devil of jealousy in him,
+	Master Brook, that ever governed frenzy. I will tell
+	you: he beat me grievously, in the shape of a
+	woman; for in the shape of man, Master Brook, I fear
+	not Goliath with a weaver's beam; because I know
+	also life is a shuttle. I am in haste; go along
+	with me: I'll tell you all, Master Brook. Since I
+	plucked geese, played truant and whipped top, I knew
+	not what 'twas to be beaten till lately. Follow
+	me: I'll tell you strange things of this knave
+	Ford, on whom to-night I will be revenged, and I
+	will deliver his wife into your hand. Follow.
+	Strange things in hand, Master Brook! Follow.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Windsor Park.
+
+
+	[Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER]
+
+PAGE	Come, come; we'll couch i' the castle-ditch till we
+	see the light of our fairies. Remember, son Slender,
+	my daughter.
+
+SLENDER	Ay, forsooth; I have spoke with her and we have a
+	nay-word how to know one another: I come to her in
+	white, and cry 'mum;' she cries 'budget;' and by
+	that we know one another.
+
+SHALLOW	That's good too: but what needs either your 'mum'
+	or her 'budget?' the white will decipher her well
+	enough. It hath struck ten o'clock.
+
+PAGE	The night is dark; light and spirits will become it
+	well. Heaven prosper our sport! No man means evil
+	but the devil, and we shall know him by his horns.
+	Let's away; follow me.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A street leading to the Park.
+
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS FORD, and
+	DOCTOR CAIUS]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Master doctor, my daughter is in green: when you
+	see your time, take her by the band, away with her
+	to the deanery, and dispatch it quickly. Go before
+	into the Park: we two must go together.
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	I know vat I have to do. Adieu.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Fare you well, sir.
+
+	[Exit DOCTOR CAIUS]
+
+	My husband will not rejoice so much at the abuse of
+	Falstaff as he will chafe at the doctor's marrying
+	my daughter: but 'tis no matter; better a little
+	chiding than a great deal of heart-break.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Where is Nan now and her troop of fairies, and the
+	Welsh devil Hugh?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	They are all couched in a pit hard by Herne's oak,
+	with obscured lights; which, at the very instant of
+	Falstaff's and our meeting, they will at once
+	display to the night.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	That cannot choose but amaze him.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	If he be not amazed, he will be mocked; if he be
+	amazed, he will every way be mocked.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	We'll betray him finely.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Against such lewdsters and their lechery
+	Those that betray them do no treachery.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	The hour draws on. To the oak, to the oak!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Windsor Park.
+
+
+	[Enter SIR HUGH EVANS, disguised, with others as Fairies]
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Trib, trib, fairies; come; and remember your parts:
+	be pold, I pray you; follow me into the pit; and
+	when I give the watch-'ords, do as I pid you:
+	come, come; trib, trib.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another part of the Park.
+
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF disguised as Herne]
+
+FALSTAFF	The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the minute
+	draws on. Now, the hot-blooded gods assist me!
+	Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa; love
+	set on thy horns. O powerful love! that, in some
+	respects, makes a beast a man, in some other, a man
+	a beast. You were also, Jupiter, a swan for the love
+	of Leda. O omnipotent Love! how near the god drew
+	to the complexion of a goose! A fault done first in
+	the form of a beast. O Jove, a beastly fault! And
+	then another fault in the semblance of a fowl; think
+	on 't, Jove; a foul fault! When gods have hot
+	backs, what shall poor men do? For me, I am here a
+	Windsor stag; and the fattest, I think, i' the
+	forest. Send me a cool rut-time, Jove, or who can
+	blame me to piss my tallow? Who comes here? my
+	doe?
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS FORD and MISTRESS PAGE]
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Sir John! art thou there, my deer? my male deer?
+
+FALSTAFF	My doe with the black scut! Let the sky rain
+	potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green
+	Sleeves, hail kissing-comfits and snow eringoes; let
+	there come a tempest of provocation, I will shelter me here.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart.
+
+FALSTAFF	Divide me like a bribe buck, each a haunch: I will
+	keep my sides to myself, my shoulders for the fellow
+	of this walk, and my horns I bequeath your husbands.
+	Am I a woodman, ha? Speak I like Herne the hunter?
+	Why, now is Cupid a child of conscience; he makes
+	restitution. As I am a true spirit, welcome!
+
+	[Noise within]
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Alas, what noise?
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Heaven forgive our sins
+
+FALSTAFF	What should this be?
+
+
+MISTRESS FORD	|
+	|  Away, away!
+MISTRESS PAGE	|
+
+
+	[They run off]
+
+FALSTAFF	I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the
+	oil that's in me should set hell on fire; he would
+	never else cross me thus.
+
+	[Enter SIR HUGH EVANS, disguised as before; PISTOL,
+	as Hobgoblin; MISTRESS QUICKLY, ANNE PAGE, and
+	others, as Fairies, with tapers]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Fairies, black, grey, green, and white,
+	You moonshine revellers and shades of night,
+	You orphan heirs of fixed destiny,
+	Attend your office and your quality.
+	Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes.
+
+PISTOL	Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys.
+	Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap:
+	Where fires thou find'st unraked and hearths unswept,
+	There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry:
+	Our radiant queen hates sluts and sluttery.
+
+FALSTAFF	They are fairies; he that speaks to them shall die:
+	I'll wink and couch: no man their works must eye.
+
+	[Lies down upon his face]
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Where's Bede? Go you, and where you find a maid
+	That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,
+	Raise up the organs of her fantasy;
+	Sleep she as sound as careless infancy:
+	But those as sleep and think not on their sins,
+	Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides and shins.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	About, about;
+	Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out:
+	Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room:
+	That it may stand till the perpetual doom,
+	In state as wholesome as in state 'tis fit,
+	Worthy the owner, and the owner it.
+	The several chairs of order look you scour
+	With juice of balm and every precious flower:
+	Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest,
+	With loyal blazon, evermore be blest!
+	And nightly, meadow-fairies, look you sing,
+	Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring:
+	The expressure that it bears, green let it be,
+	More fertile-fresh than all the field to see;
+	And 'Honi soit qui mal y pense' write
+	In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue and white;
+	Let sapphire, pearl and rich embroidery,
+	Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee:
+	Fairies use flowers for their charactery.
+	Away; disperse: but till 'tis one o'clock,
+	Our dance of custom round about the oak
+	Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set
+	And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be,
+	To guide our measure round about the tree.
+	But, stay; I smell a man of middle-earth.
+
+FALSTAFF	Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy, lest he
+	transform me to a piece of cheese!
+
+PISTOL	Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	With trial-fire touch me his finger-end:
+	If he be chaste, the flame will back descend
+	And turn him to no pain; but if he start,
+	It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.
+
+PISTOL	A trial, come.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Come, will this wood take fire?
+
+	[They burn him with their tapers]
+
+FALSTAFF	Oh, Oh, Oh!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!
+	About him, fairies; sing a scornful rhyme;
+	And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time.
+	
+	SONG.
+	Fie on sinful fantasy!
+	Fie on lust and luxury!
+	Lust is but a bloody fire,
+	Kindled with unchaste desire,
+	Fed in heart, whose flames aspire
+	As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher.
+	Pinch him, fairies, mutually;
+	Pinch him for his villany;
+	Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,
+	Till candles and starlight and moonshine be out.
+
+	[During this song they pinch FALSTAFF. DOCTOR CAIUS
+	comes one way, and steals away a boy in green;
+	SLENDER another way, and takes off a boy in white;
+	and FENTON comes and steals away ANN PAGE.
+	A noise of hunting is heard within. All the
+	Fairies run away. FALSTAFF pulls off his buck's
+	head, and rises]
+
+	[Enter PAGE, FORD, MISTRESS PAGE, and MISTRESS FORD]
+
+PAGE	Nay, do not fly; I think we have watch'd you now
+	Will none but Herne the hunter serve your turn?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	I pray you, come, hold up the jest no higher
+	Now, good Sir John, how like you Windsor wives?
+	See you these, husband? do not these fair yokes
+	Become the forest better than the town?
+
+FORD	Now, sir, who's a cuckold now? Master Brook,
+	Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave; here are his
+	horns, Master Brook: and, Master Brook, he hath
+	enjoyed nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his
+	cudgel, and twenty pounds of money, which must be
+	paid to Master Brook; his horses are arrested for
+	it, Master Brook.
+
+MISTRESS FORD	Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could never meet.
+	I will never take you for my love again; but I will
+	always count you my deer.
+
+FALSTAFF	I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass.
+
+FORD	Ay, and an ox too: both the proofs are extant.
+
+FALSTAFF	And these are not fairies? I was three or four
+	times in the thought they were not fairies: and yet
+	the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprise of my
+	powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a
+	received belief, in despite of the teeth of all
+	rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. See now
+	how wit may be made a Jack-a-Lent, when 'tis upon
+	ill employment!
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your
+	desires, and fairies will not pinse you.
+
+FORD	Well said, fairy Hugh.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	And leave your jealousies too, I pray you.
+
+FORD	I will never mistrust my wife again till thou art
+	able to woo her in good English.
+
+FALSTAFF	Have I laid my brain in the sun and dried it, that
+	it wants matter to prevent so gross o'erreaching as
+	this? Am I ridden with a Welsh goat too? shall I
+	have a coxcomb of frize? 'Tis time I were choked
+	with a piece of toasted cheese.
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	Seese is not good to give putter; your belly is all putter.
+
+FALSTAFF	'Seese' and 'putter'! have I lived to stand at the
+	taunt of one that makes fritters of English? This
+	is enough to be the decay of lust and late-walking
+	through the realm.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Why Sir John, do you think, though we would have the
+	virtue out of our hearts by the head and shoulders
+	and have given ourselves without scruple to hell,
+	that ever the devil could have made you our delight?
+
+FORD	What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	A puffed man?
+
+PAGE	Old, cold, withered and of intolerable entrails?
+
+FORD	And one that is as slanderous as Satan?
+
+PAGE	And as poor as Job?
+
+FORD	And as wicked as his wife?
+
+SIR HUGH EVANS	And given to fornications, and to taverns and sack
+	and wine and metheglins, and to drinkings and
+	swearings and starings, pribbles and prabbles?
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, I am your theme: you have the start of me; I
+	am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welsh
+	flannel; ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me: use
+	me as you will.
+
+FORD	Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one
+	Master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to
+	whom you should have been a pander: over and above
+	that you have suffered, I think to repay that money
+	will be a biting affliction.
+
+PAGE	Yet be cheerful, knight: thou shalt eat a posset
+	to-night at my house; where I will desire thee to
+	laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee: tell her
+	Master Slender hath married her daughter.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	[Aside]  Doctors doubt that: if Anne Page be my
+	daughter, she is, by this, Doctor Caius' wife.
+
+	[Enter SLENDER]
+
+SLENDER	Whoa ho! ho, father Page!
+
+PAGE	Son, how now! how now, son! have you dispatched?
+
+SLENDER	Dispatched! I'll make the best in Gloucestershire
+	know on't; would I were hanged, la, else.
+
+PAGE	Of what, son?
+
+SLENDER	I came yonder at Eton to marry Mistress Anne Page,
+	and she's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been
+	i' the church, I would have swinged him, or he
+	should have swinged me. If I did not think it had
+	been Anne Page, would I might never stir!--and 'tis
+	a postmaster's boy.
+
+PAGE	Upon my life, then, you took the wrong.
+
+SLENDER	What need you tell me that? I think so, when I took
+	a boy for a girl. If I had been married to him, for
+	all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had
+	him.
+
+PAGE	Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you how
+	you should know my daughter by her garments?
+
+SLENDER	I went to her in white, and cried 'mum,' and she
+	cried 'budget,' as Anne and I had appointed; and yet
+	it was not Anne, but a postmaster's boy.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Good George, be not angry: I knew of your purpose;
+	turned my daughter into green; and, indeed, she is
+	now with the doctor at the deanery, and there married.
+
+	[Enter DOCTOR CAIUS]
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Vere is Mistress Page? By gar, I am cozened: I ha'
+	married un garcon, a boy; un paysan, by gar, a boy;
+	it is not Anne Page: by gar, I am cozened.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Why, did you take her in green?
+
+DOCTOR CAIUS	Ay, by gar, and 'tis a boy: by gar, I'll raise all Windsor.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FORD	This is strange. Who hath got the right Anne?
+
+PAGE	My heart misgives me: here comes Master Fenton.
+
+	[Enter FENTON and ANNE PAGE]
+
+	How now, Master Fenton!
+
+ANNE PAGE	Pardon, good father! good my mother, pardon!
+
+PAGE	Now, mistress, how chance you went not with Master Slender?
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Why went you not with master doctor, maid?
+
+FENTON	You do amaze her: hear the truth of it.
+	You would have married her most shamefully,
+	Where there was no proportion held in love.
+	The truth is, she and I, long since contracted,
+	Are now so sure that nothing can dissolve us.
+	The offence is holy that she hath committed;
+	And this deceit loses the name of craft,
+	Of disobedience, or unduteous title,
+	Since therein she doth evitate and shun
+	A thousand irreligious cursed hours,
+	Which forced marriage would have brought upon her.
+
+FORD	Stand not amazed; here is no remedy:
+	In love the heavens themselves do guide the state;
+	Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.
+
+FALSTAFF	I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand to
+	strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced.
+
+PAGE	Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give thee joy!
+	What cannot be eschew'd must be embraced.
+
+FALSTAFF	When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are chased.
+
+MISTRESS PAGE	Well, I will muse no further. Master Fenton,
+	Heaven give you many, many merry days!
+	Good husband, let us every one go home,
+	And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire;
+	Sir John and all.
+
+FORD	                  Let it be so. Sir John,
+	To Master Brook you yet shall hold your word
+	For he tonight shall lie with Mistress Ford.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+THESEUS	Duke of Athens.
+
+EGEUS	father to Hermia.
+
+
+LYSANDER	|
+	|  in love with Hermia.
+DEMETRIUS	|
+
+
+PHILOSTRATE	master of the revels to Theseus.
+
+QUINCE	a carpenter.
+
+SNUG	a joiner.
+
+BOTTOM	a weaver.
+
+FLUTE	a bellows-mender.
+
+SNOUT	a tinker.
+
+STARVELING	a tailor.
+
+HIPPOLYTA	queen of the Amazons, betrothed to Theseus.
+
+HERMIA	daughter to Egeus, in love with Lysander.
+
+HELENA	in love with Demetrius.
+
+OBERON	king of the fairies.
+
+TITANIA	queen of the fairies.
+
+PUCK	or Robin Goodfellow.
+
+
+PEASEBLOSSOM	|
+	|
+COBWEB	|
+	|  fairies.
+MOTH	|
+	|
+MUSTARDSEED	|
+
+
+	Other fairies attending their King and Queen.
+
+	Attendants on Theseus and Hippolyta.
+
+SCENE	Athens, and a wood near it.
+
+
+
+
+	A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Athens. The palace of THESEUS.
+
+
+	[Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, and
+	Attendants]
+
+THESEUS	Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
+	Draws on apace; four happy days bring in
+	Another moon: but, O, methinks, how slow
+	This old moon wanes! she lingers my desires,
+	Like to a step-dame or a dowager
+	Long withering out a young man revenue.
+
+HIPPOLYTA	Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;
+	Four nights will quickly dream away the time;
+	And then the moon, like to a silver bow
+	New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night
+	Of our solemnities.
+
+THESEUS	Go, Philostrate,
+	Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments;
+	Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth;
+	Turn melancholy forth to funerals;
+	The pale companion is not for our pomp.
+
+	[Exit PHILOSTRATE]
+
+	Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword,
+	And won thy love, doing thee injuries;
+	But I will wed thee in another key,
+	With pomp, with triumph and with revelling.
+
+	[Enter EGEUS, HERMIA, LYSANDER, and DEMETRIUS]
+
+EGEUS	Happy be Theseus, our renowned duke!
+
+THESEUS	Thanks, good Egeus: what's the news with thee?
+
+EGEUS	Full of vexation come I, with complaint
+	Against my child, my daughter Hermia.
+	Stand forth, Demetrius. My noble lord,
+	This man hath my consent to marry her.
+	Stand forth, Lysander: and my gracious duke,
+	This man hath bewitch'd the bosom of my child;
+	Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes,
+	And interchanged love-tokens with my child:
+	Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung,
+	With feigning voice verses of feigning love,
+	And stolen the impression of her fantasy
+	With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits,
+	Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats, messengers
+	Of strong prevailment in unharden'd youth:
+	With cunning hast thou filch'd my daughter's heart,
+	Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me,
+	To stubborn harshness: and, my gracious duke,
+	Be it so she; will not here before your grace
+	Consent to marry with Demetrius,
+	I beg the ancient privilege of Athens,
+	As she is mine, I may dispose of her:
+	Which shall be either to this gentleman
+	Or to her death, according to our law
+	Immediately provided in that case.
+
+THESEUS	What say you, Hermia? be advised fair maid:
+	To you your father should be as a god;
+	One that composed your beauties, yea, and one
+	To whom you are but as a form in wax
+	By him imprinted and within his power
+	To leave the figure or disfigure it.
+	Demetrius is a worthy gentleman.
+
+HERMIA	So is Lysander.
+
+THESEUS	                  In himself he is;
+	But in this kind, wanting your father's voice,
+	The other must be held the worthier.
+
+HERMIA	I would my father look'd but with my eyes.
+
+THESEUS	Rather your eyes must with his judgment look.
+
+HERMIA	I do entreat your grace to pardon me.
+	I know not by what power I am made bold,
+	Nor how it may concern my modesty,
+	In such a presence here to plead my thoughts;
+	But I beseech your grace that I may know
+	The worst that may befall me in this case,
+	If I refuse to wed Demetrius.
+
+THESEUS	Either to die the death or to abjure
+	For ever the society of men.
+	Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires;
+	Know of your youth, examine well your blood,
+	Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice,
+	You can endure the livery of a nun,
+	For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd,
+	To live a barren sister all your life,
+	Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon.
+	Thrice-blessed they that master so their blood,
+	To undergo such maiden pilgrimage;
+	But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd,
+	Than that which withering on the virgin thorn
+	Grows, lives and dies in single blessedness.
+
+HERMIA	So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord,
+	Ere I will my virgin patent up
+	Unto his lordship, whose unwished yoke
+	My soul consents not to give sovereignty.
+
+THESEUS	Take time to pause; and, by the nest new moon--
+	The sealing-day betwixt my love and me,
+	For everlasting bond of fellowship--
+	Upon that day either prepare to die
+	For disobedience to your father's will,
+	Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would;
+	Or on Diana's altar to protest
+	For aye austerity and single life.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield
+	Thy crazed title to my certain right.
+
+LYSANDER	You have her father's love, Demetrius;
+	Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
+
+EGEUS	Scornful Lysander! true, he hath my love,
+	And what is mine my love shall render him.
+	And she is mine, and all my right of her
+	I do estate unto Demetrius.
+
+LYSANDER	I am, my lord, as well derived as he,
+	As well possess'd; my love is more than his;
+	My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd,
+	If not with vantage, as Demetrius';
+	And, which is more than all these boasts can be,
+	I am beloved of beauteous Hermia:
+	Why should not I then prosecute my right?
+	Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head,
+	Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena,
+	And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
+	Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
+	Upon this spotted and inconstant man.
+
+THESEUS	I must confess that I have heard so much,
+	And with Demetrius thought to have spoke thereof;
+	But, being over-full of self-affairs,
+	My mind did lose it. But, Demetrius, come;
+	And come, Egeus; you shall go with me,
+	I have some private schooling for you both.
+	For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourself
+	To fit your fancies to your father's will;
+	Or else the law of Athens yields you up--
+	Which by no means we may extenuate--
+	To death, or to a vow of single life.
+	Come, my Hippolyta: what cheer, my love?
+	Demetrius and Egeus, go along:
+	I must employ you in some business
+	Against our nuptial and confer with you
+	Of something nearly that concerns yourselves.
+
+EGEUS	With duty and desire we follow you.
+
+	[Exeunt all but LYSANDER and HERMIA]
+
+LYSANDER	How now, my love! why is your cheek so pale?
+	How chance the roses there do fade so fast?
+
+HERMIA	Belike for want of rain, which I could well
+	Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.
+
+LYSANDER	Ay me! for aught that I could ever read,
+	Could ever hear by tale or history,
+	The course of true love never did run smooth;
+	But, either it was different in blood,--
+
+HERMIA	O cross! too high to be enthrall'd to low.
+
+LYSANDER	Or else misgraffed in respect of years,--
+
+HERMIA	O spite! too old to be engaged to young.
+
+LYSANDER	Or else it stood upon the choice of friends,--
+
+HERMIA	O hell! to choose love by another's eyes.
+
+LYSANDER	Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
+	War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
+	Making it momentany as a sound,
+	Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;
+	Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
+	That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
+	And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!'
+	The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
+	So quick bright things come to confusion.
+
+HERMIA	If then true lovers have been ever cross'd,
+	It stands as an edict in destiny:
+	Then let us teach our trial patience,
+	Because it is a customary cross,
+	As due to love as thoughts and dreams and sighs,
+	Wishes and tears, poor fancy's followers.
+
+LYSANDER	A good persuasion: therefore, hear me, Hermia.
+	I have a widow aunt, a dowager
+	Of great revenue, and she hath no child:
+	From Athens is her house remote seven leagues;
+	And she respects me as her only son.
+	There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee;
+	And to that place the sharp Athenian law
+	Cannot pursue us. If thou lovest me then,
+	Steal forth thy father's house to-morrow night;
+	And in the wood, a league without the town,
+	Where I did meet thee once with Helena,
+	To do observance to a morn of May,
+	There will I stay for thee.
+
+HERMIA	My good Lysander!
+	I swear to thee, by Cupid's strongest bow,
+	By his best arrow with the golden head,
+	By the simplicity of Venus' doves,
+	By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves,
+	And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage queen,
+	When the false Troyan under sail was seen,
+	By all the vows that ever men have broke,
+	In number more than ever women spoke,
+	In that same place thou hast appointed me,
+	To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.
+
+LYSANDER	Keep promise, love. Look, here comes Helena.
+
+	[Enter HELENA]
+
+HERMIA	God speed fair Helena! whither away?
+
+HELENA	Call you me fair? that fair again unsay.
+	Demetrius loves your fair: O happy fair!
+	Your eyes are lode-stars; and your tongue's sweet air
+	More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear,
+	When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear.
+	Sickness is catching: O, were favour so,
+	Yours would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go;
+	My ear should catch your voice, my eye your eye,
+	My tongue should catch your tongue's sweet melody.
+	Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated,
+	The rest I'd give to be to you translated.
+	O, teach me how you look, and with what art
+	You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart.
+
+HERMIA	I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.
+
+HELENA	O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!
+
+HERMIA	I give him curses, yet he gives me love.
+
+HELENA	O that my prayers could such affection move!
+
+HERMIA	The more I hate, the more he follows me.
+
+HELENA	The more I love, the more he hateth me.
+
+HERMIA	His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.
+
+HELENA	None, but your beauty: would that fault were mine!
+
+HERMIA	Take comfort: he no more shall see my face;
+	Lysander and myself will fly this place.
+	Before the time I did Lysander see,
+	Seem'd Athens as a paradise to me:
+	O, then, what graces in my love do dwell,
+	That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell!
+
+LYSANDER	Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:
+	To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold
+	Her silver visage in the watery glass,
+	Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass,
+	A time that lovers' flights doth still conceal,
+	Through Athens' gates have we devised to steal.
+
+HERMIA	And in the wood, where often you and I
+	Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie,
+	Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet,
+	There my Lysander and myself shall meet;
+	And thence from Athens turn away our eyes,
+	To seek new friends and stranger companies.
+	Farewell, sweet playfellow: pray thou for us;
+	And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius!
+	Keep word, Lysander: we must starve our sight
+	From lovers' food till morrow deep midnight.
+
+LYSANDER	I will, my Hermia.
+
+	[Exit HERMIA]
+
+	Helena, adieu:
+	As you on him, Demetrius dote on you!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HELENA	How happy some o'er other some can be!
+	Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
+	But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;
+	He will not know what all but he do know:
+	And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes,
+	So I, admiring of his qualities:
+	Things base and vile, folding no quantity,
+	Love can transpose to form and dignity:
+	Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
+	And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind:
+	Nor hath Love's mind of any judgement taste;
+	Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste:
+	And therefore is Love said to be a child,
+	Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.
+	As waggish boys in game themselves forswear,
+	So the boy Love is perjured every where:
+	For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne,
+	He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine;
+	And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt,
+	So he dissolved, and showers of oaths did melt.
+	I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight:
+	Then to the wood will he to-morrow night
+	Pursue her; and for this intelligence
+	If I have thanks, it is a dear expense:
+	But herein mean I to enrich my pain,
+	To have his sight thither and back again.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Athens. QUINCE'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, and
+	STARVELING]
+
+QUINCE	Is all our company here?
+
+BOTTOM	You were best to call them generally, man by man,
+	according to the scrip.
+
+QUINCE	Here is the scroll of every man's name, which is
+	thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our
+	interlude before the duke and the duchess, on his
+	wedding-day at night.
+
+BOTTOM	First, good Peter Quince, say what the play treats
+	on, then read the names of the actors, and so grow
+	to a point.
+
+QUINCE	Marry, our play is, The most lamentable comedy, and
+	most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby.
+
+BOTTOM	A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a
+	merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your
+	actors by the scroll. Masters, spread yourselves.
+
+QUINCE	Answer as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver.
+
+BOTTOM	Ready. Name what part I am for, and proceed.
+
+QUINCE	You, Nick Bottom, are set down for Pyramus.
+
+BOTTOM	What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant?
+
+QUINCE	A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love.
+
+BOTTOM	That will ask some tears in the true performing of
+	it: if I do it, let the audience look to their
+	eyes; I will move storms, I will condole in some
+	measure. To the rest: yet my chief humour is for a
+	tyrant: I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to
+	tear a cat in, to make all split.
+	The raging rocks
+	And shivering shocks
+	Shall break the locks
+	Of prison gates;
+	And Phibbus' car
+	Shall shine from far
+	And make and mar
+	The foolish Fates.
+	This was lofty! Now name the rest of the players.
+	This is Ercles' vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is
+	more condoling.
+
+QUINCE	Francis Flute, the bellows-mender.
+
+FLUTE	Here, Peter Quince.
+
+QUINCE	Flute, you must take Thisby on you.
+
+FLUTE	What is Thisby? a wandering knight?
+
+QUINCE	It is the lady that Pyramus must love.
+
+FLUTE	Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming.
+
+QUINCE	That's all one: you shall play it in a mask, and
+	you may speak as small as you will.
+
+BOTTOM	An I may hide my face, let me play Thisby too, I'll
+	speak in a monstrous little voice. 'Thisne,
+	Thisne;' 'Ah, Pyramus, lover dear! thy Thisby dear,
+	and lady dear!'
+
+QUINCE	No, no; you must play Pyramus: and, Flute, you Thisby.
+
+BOTTOM	Well, proceed.
+
+QUINCE	Robin Starveling, the tailor.
+
+STARVELING	Here, Peter Quince.
+
+QUINCE	Robin Starveling, you must play Thisby's mother.
+	Tom Snout, the tinker.
+
+SNOUT	Here, Peter Quince.
+
+QUINCE	You, Pyramus' father: myself, Thisby's father:
+	Snug, the joiner; you, the lion's part: and, I
+	hope, here is a play fitted.
+
+SNUG	Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it
+	be, give it me, for I am slow of study.
+
+QUINCE	You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring.
+
+BOTTOM	Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that I will
+	do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar,
+	that I will make the duke say 'Let him roar again,
+	let him roar again.'
+
+QUINCE	An you should do it too terribly, you would fright
+	the duchess and the ladies, that they would shriek;
+	and that were enough to hang us all.
+
+ALL	That would hang us, every mother's son.
+
+BOTTOM	I grant you, friends, if that you should fright the
+	ladies out of their wits, they would have no more
+	discretion but to hang us: but I will aggravate my
+	voice so that I will roar you as gently as any
+	sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any
+	nightingale.
+
+QUINCE	You can play no part but Pyramus; for Pyramus is a
+	sweet-faced man; a proper man, as one shall see in a
+	summer's day; a most lovely gentleman-like man:
+	therefore you must needs play Pyramus.
+
+BOTTOM	Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I best
+	to play it in?
+
+QUINCE	Why, what you will.
+
+BOTTOM	I will discharge it in either your straw-colour
+	beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain
+	beard, or your French-crown-colour beard, your
+	perfect yellow.
+
+QUINCE	Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and
+	then you will play bare-faced. But, masters, here
+	are your parts: and I am to entreat you, request
+	you and desire you, to con them by to-morrow night;
+	and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the
+	town, by moonlight; there will we rehearse, for if
+	we meet in the city, we shall be dogged with
+	company, and our devices known. In the meantime I
+	will draw a bill of properties, such as our play
+	wants. I pray you, fail me not.
+
+BOTTOM	We will meet; and there we may rehearse most
+	obscenely and courageously. Take pains; be perfect: adieu.
+
+QUINCE	At the duke's oak we meet.
+
+BOTTOM	Enough; hold or cut bow-strings.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A wood near Athens.
+
+
+	[Enter, from opposite sides, a Fairy, and PUCK]
+
+PUCK	How now, spirit! whither wander you?
+
+Fairy	     Over hill, over dale,
+	Thorough bush, thorough brier,
+	Over park, over pale,
+	Thorough flood, thorough fire,
+	I do wander everywhere,
+	Swifter than the moon's sphere;
+	And I serve the fairy queen,
+	To dew her orbs upon the green.
+	The cowslips tall her pensioners be:
+	In their gold coats spots you see;
+	Those be rubies, fairy favours,
+	In those freckles live their savours:
+	I must go seek some dewdrops here
+	And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
+	Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone:
+	Our queen and all our elves come here anon.
+
+PUCK	The king doth keep his revels here to-night:
+	Take heed the queen come not within his sight;
+	For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,
+	Because that she as her attendant hath
+	A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king;
+	She never had so sweet a changeling;
+	And jealous Oberon would have the child
+	Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild;
+	But she perforce withholds the loved boy,
+	Crowns him with flowers and makes him all her joy:
+	And now they never meet in grove or green,
+	By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen,
+	But, they do square, that all their elves for fear
+	Creep into acorn-cups and hide them there.
+
+Fairy	Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
+	Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
+	Call'd Robin Goodfellow: are not you he
+	That frights the maidens of the villagery;
+	Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern
+	And bootless make the breathless housewife churn;
+	And sometime make the drink to bear no barm;
+	Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
+	Those that Hobgoblin call you and sweet Puck,
+	You do their work, and they shall have good luck:
+	Are not you he?
+
+PUCK	                  Thou speak'st aright;
+	I am that merry wanderer of the night.
+	I jest to Oberon and make him smile
+	When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
+	Neighing in likeness of a filly foal:
+	And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl,
+	In very likeness of a roasted crab,
+	And when she drinks, against her lips I bob
+	And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
+	The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
+	Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
+	Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
+	And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough;
+	And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,
+	And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear
+	A merrier hour was never wasted there.
+	But, room, fairy! here comes Oberon.
+
+Fairy	And here my mistress. Would that he were gone!
+
+	[Enter, from one side, OBERON, with his train;
+	from the other, TITANIA, with hers]
+
+OBERON	Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.
+
+TITANIA	What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence:
+	I have forsworn his bed and company.
+
+OBERON	Tarry, rash wanton: am not I thy lord?
+
+TITANIA	Then I must be thy lady: but I know
+	When thou hast stolen away from fairy land,
+	And in the shape of Corin sat all day,
+	Playing on pipes of corn and versing love
+	To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here,
+	Come from the farthest Steppe of India?
+	But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon,
+	Your buskin'd mistress and your warrior love,
+	To Theseus must be wedded, and you come
+	To give their bed joy and prosperity.
+
+OBERON	How canst thou thus for shame, Titania,
+	Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,
+	Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?
+	Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night
+	From Perigenia, whom he ravished?
+	And make him with fair AEgle break his faith,
+	With Ariadne and Antiopa?
+
+TITANIA	These are the forgeries of jealousy:
+	And never, since the middle summer's spring,
+	Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,
+	By paved fountain or by rushy brook,
+	Or in the beached margent of the sea,
+	To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
+	But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
+	Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
+	As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea
+	Contagious fogs; which falling in the land
+	Have every pelting river made so proud
+	That they have overborne their continents:
+	The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain,
+	The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
+	Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard;
+	The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
+	And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
+	The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,
+	And the quaint mazes in the wanton green
+	For lack of tread are undistinguishable:
+	The human mortals want their winter here;
+	No night is now with hymn or carol blest:
+	Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
+	Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
+	That rheumatic diseases do abound:
+	And thorough this distemperature we see
+	The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
+	Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
+	And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
+	An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
+	Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,
+	The childing autumn, angry winter, change
+	Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
+	By their increase, now knows not which is which:
+	And this same progeny of evils comes
+	From our debate, from our dissension;
+	We are their parents and original.
+
+OBERON	Do you amend it then; it lies in you:
+	Why should Titania cross her Oberon?
+	I do but beg a little changeling boy,
+	To be my henchman.
+
+TITANIA	                  Set your heart at rest:
+	The fairy land buys not the child of me.
+	His mother was a votaress of my order:
+	And, in the spiced Indian air, by night,
+	Full often hath she gossip'd by my side,
+	And sat with me on Neptune's yellow sands,
+	Marking the embarked traders on the flood,
+	When we have laugh'd to see the sails conceive
+	And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind;
+	Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait
+	Following,--her womb then rich with my young squire,--
+	Would imitate, and sail upon the land,
+	To fetch me trifles, and return again,
+	As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.
+	But she, being mortal, of that boy did die;
+	And for her sake do I rear up her boy,
+	And for her sake I will not part with him.
+
+OBERON	How long within this wood intend you stay?
+
+TITANIA	Perchance till after Theseus' wedding-day.
+	If you will patiently dance in our round
+	And see our moonlight revels, go with us;
+	If not, shun me, and I will spare your haunts.
+
+OBERON	Give me that boy, and I will go with thee.
+
+TITANIA	Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away!
+	We shall chide downright, if I longer stay.
+
+	[Exit TITANIA with her train]
+
+OBERON	Well, go thy way: thou shalt not from this grove
+	Till I torment thee for this injury.
+	My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou rememberest
+	Since once I sat upon a promontory,
+	And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back
+	Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath
+	That the rude sea grew civil at her song
+	And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,
+	To hear the sea-maid's music.
+
+PUCK	I remember.
+
+OBERON	That very time I saw, but thou couldst not,
+	Flying between the cold moon and the earth,
+	Cupid all arm'd: a certain aim he took
+	At a fair vestal throned by the west,
+	And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow,
+	As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts;
+	But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft
+	Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon,
+	And the imperial votaress passed on,
+	In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
+	Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
+	It fell upon a little western flower,
+	Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
+	And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
+	Fetch me that flower; the herb I shew'd thee once:
+	The juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid
+	Will make or man or woman madly dote
+	Upon the next live creature that it sees.
+	Fetch me this herb; and be thou here again
+	Ere the leviathan can swim a league.
+
+PUCK	I'll put a girdle round about the earth
+	In forty minutes.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OBERON	                  Having once this juice,
+	I'll watch Titania when she is asleep,
+	And drop the liquor of it in her eyes.
+	The next thing then she waking looks upon,
+	Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull,
+	On meddling monkey, or on busy ape,
+	She shall pursue it with the soul of love:
+	And ere I take this charm from off her sight,
+	As I can take it with another herb,
+	I'll make her render up her page to me.
+	But who comes here? I am invisible;
+	And I will overhear their conference.
+
+	[Enter DEMETRIUS, HELENA, following him]
+
+DEMETRIUS	I love thee not, therefore pursue me not.
+	Where is Lysander and fair Hermia?
+	The one I'll slay, the other slayeth me.
+	Thou told'st me they were stolen unto this wood;
+	And here am I, and wode within this wood,
+	Because I cannot meet my Hermia.
+	Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more.
+
+HELENA	You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant;
+	But yet you draw not iron, for my heart
+	Is true as steel: leave you your power to draw,
+	And I shall have no power to follow you.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Do I entice you? do I speak you fair?
+	Or, rather, do I not in plainest truth
+	Tell you, I do not, nor I cannot love you?
+
+HELENA	And even for that do I love you the more.
+	I am your spaniel; and, Demetrius,
+	The more you beat me, I will fawn on you:
+	Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me,
+	Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave,
+	Unworthy as I am, to follow you.
+	What worser place can I beg in your love,--
+	And yet a place of high respect with me,--
+	Than to be used as you use your dog?
+
+DEMETRIUS	Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit;
+	For I am sick when I do look on thee.
+
+HELENA	And I am sick when I look not on you.
+
+DEMETRIUS	You do impeach your modesty too much,
+	To leave the city and commit yourself
+	Into the hands of one that loves you not;
+	To trust the opportunity of night
+	And the ill counsel of a desert place
+	With the rich worth of your virginity.
+
+HELENA	Your virtue is my privilege: for that
+	It is not night when I do see your face,
+	Therefore I think I am not in the night;
+	Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company,
+	For you in my respect are all the world:
+	Then how can it be said I am alone,
+	When all the world is here to look on me?
+
+DEMETRIUS	I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes,
+	And leave thee to the mercy of wild beasts.
+
+HELENA	The wildest hath not such a heart as you.
+	Run when you will, the story shall be changed:
+	Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase;
+	The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind
+	Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed,
+	When cowardice pursues and valour flies.
+
+DEMETRIUS	I will not stay thy questions; let me go:
+	Or, if thou follow me, do not believe
+	But I shall do thee mischief in the wood.
+
+HELENA	Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field,
+	You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius!
+	Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex:
+	We cannot fight for love, as men may do;
+	We should be wood and were not made to woo.
+
+	[Exit DEMETRIUS]
+
+	I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell,
+	To die upon the hand I love so well.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OBERON	Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove,
+	Thou shalt fly him and he shall seek thy love.
+
+	[Re-enter PUCK]
+
+	Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer.
+
+PUCK	Ay, there it is.
+
+OBERON	I pray thee, give it me.
+	I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
+	Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
+	Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
+	With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine:
+	There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,
+	Lull'd in these flowers with dances and delight;
+	And there the snake throws her enamell'd skin,
+	Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in:
+	And with the juice of this I'll streak her eyes,
+	And make her full of hateful fantasies.
+	Take thou some of it, and seek through this grove:
+	A sweet Athenian lady is in love
+	With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes;
+	But do it when the next thing he espies
+	May be the lady: thou shalt know the man
+	By the Athenian garments he hath on.
+	Effect it with some care, that he may prove
+	More fond on her than she upon her love:
+	And look thou meet me ere the first cock crow.
+
+PUCK	Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Another part of the wood.
+
+
+	[Enter TITANIA, with her train]
+
+TITANIA	Come, now a roundel and a fairy song;
+	Then, for the third part of a minute, hence;
+	Some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds,
+	Some war with rere-mice for their leathern wings,
+	To make my small elves coats, and some keep back
+	The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders
+	At our quaint spirits. Sing me now asleep;
+	Then to your offices and let me rest.
+
+	[The Fairies sing]
+
+	You spotted snakes with double tongue,
+	Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;
+	Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong,
+	Come not near our fairy queen.
+	Philomel, with melody
+	Sing in our sweet lullaby;
+	Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby:
+	Never harm,
+	Nor spell nor charm,
+	Come our lovely lady nigh;
+	So, good night, with lullaby.
+	Weaving spiders, come not here;
+	Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence!
+	Beetles black, approach not near;
+	Worm nor snail, do no offence.
+	Philomel, with melody, &c.
+
+Fairy	Hence, away! now all is well:
+	One aloof stand sentinel.
+
+	[Exeunt Fairies. TITANIA sleeps]
+
+	[Enter OBERON and squeezes the flower on TITANIA's eyelids]
+
+OBERON	What thou seest when thou dost wake,
+	Do it for thy true-love take,
+	Love and languish for his sake:
+	Be it ounce, or cat, or bear,
+	Pard, or boar with bristled hair,
+	In thy eye that shall appear
+	When thou wakest, it is thy dear:
+	Wake when some vile thing is near.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter LYSANDER and HERMIA]
+
+LYSANDER	Fair love, you faint with wandering in the wood;
+	And to speak troth, I have forgot our way:
+	We'll rest us, Hermia, if you think it good,
+	And tarry for the comfort of the day.
+
+HERMIA	Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed;
+	For I upon this bank will rest my head.
+
+LYSANDER	One turf shall serve as pillow for us both;
+	One heart, one bed, two bosoms and one troth.
+
+HERMIA	Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear,
+	Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.
+
+LYSANDER	O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence!
+	Love takes the meaning in love's conference.
+	I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit
+	So that but one heart we can make of it;
+	Two bosoms interchained with an oath;
+	So then two bosoms and a single troth.
+	Then by your side no bed-room me deny;
+	For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.
+
+HERMIA	Lysander riddles very prettily:
+	Now much beshrew my manners and my pride,
+	If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied.
+	But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy
+	Lie further off; in human modesty,
+	Such separation as may well be said
+	Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid,
+	So far be distant; and, good night, sweet friend:
+	Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end!
+
+LYSANDER	Amen, amen, to that fair prayer, say I;
+	And then end life when I end loyalty!
+	Here is my bed: sleep give thee all his rest!
+
+HERMIA	With half that wish the wisher's eyes be press'd!
+
+	[They sleep]
+
+	[Enter PUCK]
+
+PUCK	Through the forest have I gone.
+	But Athenian found I none,
+	On whose eyes I might approve
+	This flower's force in stirring love.
+	Night and silence.--Who is here?
+	Weeds of Athens he doth wear:
+	This is he, my master said,
+	Despised the Athenian maid;
+	And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
+	On the dank and dirty ground.
+	Pretty soul! she durst not lie
+	Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.
+	Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
+	All the power this charm doth owe.
+	When thou wakest, let love forbid
+	Sleep his seat on thy eyelid:
+	So awake when I am gone;
+	For I must now to Oberon.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter DEMETRIUS and HELENA, running]
+
+HELENA	Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.
+
+DEMETRIUS	I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.
+
+HELENA	O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not so.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Stay, on thy peril: I alone will go.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HELENA	O, I am out of breath in this fond chase!
+	The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.
+	Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies;
+	For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.
+	How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears:
+	If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers.
+	No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;
+	For beasts that meet me run away for fear:
+	Therefore no marvel though Demetrius
+	Do, as a monster fly my presence thus.
+	What wicked and dissembling glass of mine
+	Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne?
+	But who is here? Lysander! on the ground!
+	Dead? or asleep? I see no blood, no wound.
+	Lysander if you live, good sir, awake.
+
+LYSANDER	[Awaking]  And run through fire I will for thy sweet sake.
+	Transparent Helena! Nature shows art,
+	That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.
+	Where is Demetrius? O, how fit a word
+	Is that vile name to perish on my sword!
+
+HELENA	Do not say so, Lysander; say not so
+	What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though?
+	Yet Hermia still loves you: then be content.
+
+LYSANDER	Content with Hermia! No; I do repent
+	The tedious minutes I with her have spent.
+	Not Hermia but Helena I love:
+	Who will not change a raven for a dove?
+	The will of man is by his reason sway'd;
+	And reason says you are the worthier maid.
+	Things growing are not ripe until their season
+	So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason;
+	And touching now the point of human skill,
+	Reason becomes the marshal to my will
+	And leads me to your eyes, where I o'erlook
+	Love's stories written in love's richest book.
+
+HELENA	Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born?
+	When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?
+	Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man,
+	That I did never, no, nor never can,
+	Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
+	But you must flout my insufficiency?
+	Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do,
+	In such disdainful manner me to woo.
+	But fare you well: perforce I must confess
+	I thought you lord of more true gentleness.
+	O, that a lady, of one man refused.
+	Should of another therefore be abused!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LYSANDER	She sees not Hermia. Hermia, sleep thou there:
+	And never mayst thou come Lysander near!
+	For as a surfeit of the sweetest things
+	The deepest loathing to the stomach brings,
+	Or as tie heresies that men do leave
+	Are hated most of those they did deceive,
+	So thou, my surfeit and my heresy,
+	Of all be hated, but the most of me!
+	And, all my powers, address your love and might
+	To honour Helen and to be her knight!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HERMIA	[Awaking]  Help me, Lysander, help me! do thy best
+	To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!
+	Ay me, for pity! what a dream was here!
+	Lysander, look how I do quake with fear:
+	Methought a serpent eat my heart away,
+	And you sat smiling at his cruel pray.
+	Lysander! what, removed? Lysander! lord!
+	What, out of hearing? gone? no sound, no word?
+	Alack, where are you speak, an if you hear;
+	Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear.
+	No? then I well perceive you all not nigh
+	Either death or you I'll find immediately.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The wood. TITANIA lying asleep.
+
+
+	[Enter QUINCE, SNUG, BOTTOM, FLUTE, SNOUT, and
+	STARVELING]
+
+BOTTOM	Are we all met?
+
+QUINCE	Pat, pat; and here's a marvellous convenient place
+	for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be our
+	stage, this hawthorn-brake our tiring-house; and we
+	will do it in action as we will do it before the duke.
+
+BOTTOM	Peter Quince,--
+
+QUINCE	What sayest thou, bully Bottom?
+
+BOTTOM	There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and
+	Thisby that will never please. First, Pyramus must
+	draw a sword to kill himself; which the ladies
+	cannot abide. How answer you that?
+
+SNOUT	By'r lakin, a parlous fear.
+
+STARVELING	I believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done.
+
+BOTTOM	Not a whit: I have a device to make all well.
+	Write me a prologue; and let the prologue seem to
+	say, we will do no harm with our swords, and that
+	Pyramus is not killed indeed; and, for the more
+	better assurance, tell them that I, Pyramus, am not
+	Pyramus, but Bottom the weaver: this will put them
+	out of fear.
+
+QUINCE	Well, we will have such a prologue; and it shall be
+	written in eight and six.
+
+BOTTOM	No, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight.
+
+SNOUT	Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion?
+
+STARVELING	I fear it, I promise you.
+
+BOTTOM	Masters, you ought to consider with yourselves: to
+	bring in--God shield us!--a lion among ladies, is a
+	most dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful
+	wild-fowl than your lion living; and we ought to
+	look to 't.
+
+SNOUT	Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion.
+
+BOTTOM	Nay, you must name his name, and half his face must
+	be seen through the lion's neck: and he himself
+	must speak through, saying thus, or to the same
+	defect,--'Ladies,'--or 'Fair-ladies--I would wish
+	You,'--or 'I would request you,'--or 'I would
+	entreat you,--not to fear, not to tremble: my life
+	for yours. If you think I come hither as a lion, it
+	were pity of my life: no I am no such thing; I am a
+	man as other men are;' and there indeed let him name
+	his name, and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner.
+
+QUINCE	Well it shall be so. But there is two hard things;
+	that is, to bring the moonlight into a chamber; for,
+	you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moonlight.
+
+SNOUT	Doth the moon shine that night we play our play?
+
+BOTTOM	A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanac; find
+	out moonshine, find out moonshine.
+
+QUINCE	Yes, it doth shine that night.
+
+BOTTOM	Why, then may you leave a casement of the great
+	chamber window, where we play, open, and the moon
+	may shine in at the casement.
+
+QUINCE	Ay; or else one must come in with a bush of thorns
+	and a lanthorn, and say he comes to disfigure, or to
+	present, the person of Moonshine. Then, there is
+	another thing: we must have a wall in the great
+	chamber; for Pyramus and Thisby says the story, did
+	talk through the chink of a wall.
+
+SNOUT	You can never bring in a wall. What say you, Bottom?
+
+BOTTOM	Some man or other must present Wall: and let him
+	have some plaster, or some loam, or some rough-cast
+	about him, to signify wall; and let him hold his
+	fingers thus, and through that cranny shall Pyramus
+	and Thisby whisper.
+
+QUINCE	If that may be, then all is well. Come, sit down,
+	every mother's son, and rehearse your parts.
+	Pyramus, you begin: when you have spoken your
+	speech, enter into that brake: and so every one
+	according to his cue.
+
+	[Enter PUCK behind]
+
+PUCK	What hempen home-spuns have we swaggering here,
+	So near the cradle of the fairy queen?
+	What, a play toward! I'll be an auditor;
+	An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.
+
+QUINCE	Speak, Pyramus. Thisby, stand forth.
+
+BOTTOM	Thisby, the flowers of odious savours sweet,--
+
+QUINCE	Odours, odours.
+
+BOTTOM	--odours savours sweet:
+	So hath thy breath, my dearest Thisby dear.
+	But hark, a voice! stay thou but here awhile,
+	And by and by I will to thee appear.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PUCK	A stranger Pyramus than e'er played here.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FLUTE	Must I speak now?
+
+QUINCE	Ay, marry, must you; for you must understand he goes
+	but to see a noise that he heard, and is to come again.
+
+FLUTE	Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,
+	Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,
+	Most brisky juvenal and eke most lovely Jew,
+	As true as truest horse that yet would never tire,
+	I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb.
+
+QUINCE	'Ninus' tomb,' man: why, you must not speak that
+	yet; that you answer to Pyramus: you speak all your
+	part at once, cues and all Pyramus enter: your cue
+	is past; it is, 'never tire.'
+
+FLUTE	O,--As true as truest horse, that yet would
+	never tire.
+
+	[Re-enter PUCK, and BOTTOM with an ass's head]
+
+BOTTOM	If I were fair, Thisby, I were only thine.
+
+QUINCE	O monstrous! O strange! we are haunted. Pray,
+	masters! fly, masters! Help!
+
+	[Exeunt QUINCE, SNUG, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING]
+
+PUCK	I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round,
+	Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier:
+	Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound,
+	A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;
+	And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,
+	Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BOTTOM	Why do they run away? this is a knavery of them to
+	make me afeard.
+
+	[Re-enter SNOUT]
+
+SNOUT	O Bottom, thou art changed! what do I see on thee?
+
+BOTTOM	What do you see? you see an asshead of your own, do
+	you?
+
+	[Exit SNOUT]
+
+	[Re-enter QUINCE]
+
+QUINCE	Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art
+	translated.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BOTTOM	I see their knavery: this is to make an ass of me;
+	to fright me, if they could. But I will not stir
+	from this place, do what they can: I will walk up
+	and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear
+	I am not afraid.
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	The ousel cock so black of hue,
+	With orange-tawny bill,
+	The throstle with his note so true,
+	The wren with little quill,--
+
+TITANIA	[Awaking]  What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?
+
+BOTTOM	[Sings]
+
+	The finch, the sparrow and the lark,
+	The plain-song cuckoo gray,
+	Whose note full many a man doth mark,
+	And dares not answer nay;--
+	for, indeed, who would set his wit to so foolish
+	a bird? who would give a bird the lie, though he cry
+	'cuckoo' never so?
+
+TITANIA	I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again:
+	Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note;
+	So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape;
+	And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me
+	On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.
+
+BOTTOM	Methinks, mistress, you should have little reason
+	for that: and yet, to say the truth, reason and
+	love keep little company together now-a-days; the
+	more the pity that some honest neighbours will not
+	make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occasion.
+
+TITANIA	Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.
+
+BOTTOM	Not so, neither: but if I had wit enough to get out
+	of this wood, I have enough to serve mine own turn.
+
+TITANIA	Out of this wood do not desire to go:
+	Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
+	I am a spirit of no common rate;
+	The summer still doth tend upon my state;
+	And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
+	I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee,
+	And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
+	And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep;
+	And I will purge thy mortal grossness so
+	That thou shalt like an airy spirit go.
+	Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!
+
+	[Enter PEASEBLOSSOM, COBWEB, MOTH, and MUSTARDSEED]
+
+PEASEBLOSSOM	Ready.
+
+COBWEB	     And I.
+
+MOTH	          And I.
+
+MUSTARDSEED	                  And I.
+
+ALL	Where shall we go?
+
+TITANIA	Be kind and courteous to this gentleman;
+	Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes;
+	Feed him with apricocks and dewberries,
+	With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;
+	The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,
+	And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs
+	And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,
+	To have my love to bed and to arise;
+	And pluck the wings from Painted butterflies
+	To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes:
+	Nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies.
+
+PEASEBLOSSOM	Hail, mortal!
+
+COBWEB	Hail!
+
+MOTH	Hail!
+
+MUSTARDSEED	Hail!
+
+BOTTOM	I cry your worship's mercy, heartily: I beseech your
+	worship's name.
+
+COBWEB	Cobweb.
+
+BOTTOM	I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good Master
+	Cobweb: if I cut my finger, I shall make bold with
+	you. Your name, honest gentleman?
+
+PEASEBLOSSOM	Peaseblossom.
+
+BOTTOM	I pray you, commend me to Mistress Squash, your
+	mother, and to Master Peascod, your father. Good
+	Master Peaseblossom, I shall desire you of more
+	acquaintance too. Your name, I beseech you, sir?
+
+MUSTARDSEED	Mustardseed.
+
+BOTTOM	Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience well:
+	that same cowardly, giant-like ox-beef hath
+	devoured many a gentleman of your house: I promise
+	you your kindred had made my eyes water ere now. I
+	desire your more acquaintance, good Master
+	Mustardseed.
+
+TITANIA	Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower.
+	The moon methinks looks with a watery eye;
+	And when she weeps, weeps every little flower,
+	Lamenting some enforced chastity.
+	Tie up my love's tongue bring him silently.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Another part of the wood.
+
+
+	[Enter OBERON]
+
+OBERON	I wonder if Titania be awaked;
+	Then, what it was that next came in her eye,
+	Which she must dote on in extremity.
+
+	[Enter PUCK]
+
+	Here comes my messenger.
+		   How now, mad spirit!
+	What night-rule now about this haunted grove?
+
+PUCK	My mistress with a monster is in love.
+	Near to her close and consecrated bower,
+	While she was in her dull and sleeping hour,
+	A crew of patches, rude mechanicals,
+	That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
+	Were met together to rehearse a play
+	Intended for great Theseus' nuptial-day.
+	The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,
+	Who Pyramus presented, in their sport
+	Forsook his scene and enter'd in a brake
+	When I did him at this advantage take,
+	An ass's nole I fixed on his head:
+	Anon his Thisbe must be answered,
+	And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy,
+	As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,
+	Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,
+	Rising and cawing at the gun's report,
+	Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky,
+	So, at his sight, away his fellows fly;
+	And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls;
+	He murder cries and help from Athens calls.
+	Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears
+	thus strong,
+	Made senseless things begin to do them wrong;
+	For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch;
+	Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all
+	things catch.
+	I led them on in this distracted fear,
+	And left sweet Pyramus translated there:
+	When in that moment, so it came to pass,
+	Titania waked and straightway loved an ass.
+
+OBERON	This falls out better than I could devise.
+	But hast thou yet latch'd the Athenian's eyes
+	With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do?
+
+PUCK	I took him sleeping,--that is finish'd too,--
+	And the Athenian woman by his side:
+	That, when he waked, of force she must be eyed.
+
+	[Enter HERMIA and DEMETRIUS]
+
+OBERON	Stand close: this is the same Athenian.
+
+PUCK	This is the woman, but not this the man.
+
+DEMETRIUS	O, why rebuke you him that loves you so?
+	Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.
+
+HERMIA	Now I but chide; but I should use thee worse,
+	For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse,
+	If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,
+	Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep,
+	And kill me too.
+	The sun was not so true unto the day
+	As he to me: would he have stolen away
+	From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon
+	This whole earth may be bored and that the moon
+	May through the centre creep and so displease
+	Her brother's noontide with Antipodes.
+	It cannot be but thou hast murder'd him;
+	So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim.
+
+DEMETRIUS	So should the murder'd look, and so should I,
+	Pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty:
+	Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear,
+	As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.
+
+HERMIA	What's this to my Lysander? where is he?
+	Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?
+
+DEMETRIUS	I had rather give his carcass to my hounds.
+
+HERMIA	Out, dog! out, cur! thou drivest me past the bounds
+	Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him, then?
+	Henceforth be never number'd among men!
+	O, once tell true, tell true, even for my sake!
+	Durst thou have look'd upon him being awake,
+	And hast thou kill'd him sleeping? O brave touch!
+	Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?
+	An adder did it; for with doubler tongue
+	Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.
+
+DEMETRIUS	You spend your passion on a misprised mood:
+	I am not guilty of Lysander's blood;
+	Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.
+
+HERMIA	I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.
+
+DEMETRIUS	An if I could, what should I get therefore?
+
+HERMIA	A privilege never to see me more.
+	And from thy hated presence part I so:
+	See me no more, whether he be dead or no.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DEMETRIUS	There is no following her in this fierce vein:
+	Here therefore for a while I will remain.
+	So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow
+	For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe:
+	Which now in some slight measure it will pay,
+	If for his tender here I make some stay.
+
+	[Lies down and sleeps]
+
+OBERON	What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite
+	And laid the love-juice on some true-love's sight:
+	Of thy misprision must perforce ensue
+	Some true love turn'd and not a false turn'd true.
+
+PUCK	Then fate o'er-rules, that, one man holding troth,
+	A million fail, confounding oath on oath.
+
+OBERON	About the wood go swifter than the wind,
+	And Helena of Athens look thou find:
+	All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer,
+	With sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear:
+	By some illusion see thou bring her here:
+	I'll charm his eyes against she do appear.
+
+PUCK	I go, I go; look how I go,
+	Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OBERON	   Flower of this purple dye,
+	Hit with Cupid's archery,
+	Sink in apple of his eye.
+	When his love he doth espy,
+	Let her shine as gloriously
+	As the Venus of the sky.
+	When thou wakest, if she be by,
+	Beg of her for remedy.
+
+	[Re-enter PUCK]
+
+PUCK	   Captain of our fairy band,
+	Helena is here at hand;
+	And the youth, mistook by me,
+	Pleading for a lover's fee.
+	Shall we their fond pageant see?
+	Lord, what fools these mortals be!
+
+OBERON	Stand aside: the noise they make
+	Will cause Demetrius to awake.
+
+PUCK	Then will two at once woo one;
+	That must needs be sport alone;
+	And those things do best please me
+	That befal preposterously.
+
+	[Enter LYSANDER and HELENA]
+
+LYSANDER	Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?
+	Scorn and derision never come in tears:
+	Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born,
+	In their nativity all truth appears.
+	How can these things in me seem scorn to you,
+	Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?
+
+HELENA	You do advance your cunning more and more.
+	When truth kills truth, O devilish-holy fray!
+	These vows are Hermia's: will you give her o'er?
+	Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh:
+	Your vows to her and me, put in two scales,
+	Will even weigh, and both as light as tales.
+
+LYSANDER	I had no judgment when to her I swore.
+
+HELENA	Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er.
+
+LYSANDER	Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.
+
+DEMETRIUS	[Awaking]  O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!
+	To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
+	Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show
+	Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
+	That pure congealed white, high Taurus snow,
+	Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow
+	When thou hold'st up thy hand: O, let me kiss
+	This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!
+
+HELENA	O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent
+	To set against me for your merriment:
+	If you we re civil and knew courtesy,
+	You would not do me thus much injury.
+	Can you not hate me, as I know you do,
+	But you must join in souls to mock me too?
+	If you were men, as men you are in show,
+	You would not use a gentle lady so;
+	To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts,
+	When I am sure you hate me with your hearts.
+	You both are rivals, and love Hermia;
+	And now both rivals, to mock Helena:
+	A trim exploit, a manly enterprise,
+	To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes
+	With your derision! none of noble sort
+	Would so offend a virgin, and extort
+	A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport.
+
+LYSANDER	You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so;
+	For you love Hermia; this you know I know:
+	And here, with all good will, with all my heart,
+	In Hermia's love I yield you up my part;
+	And yours of Helena to me bequeath,
+	Whom I do love and will do till my death.
+
+HELENA	Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none:
+	If e'er I loved her, all that love is gone.
+	My heart to her but as guest-wise sojourn'd,
+	And now to Helen is it home return'd,
+	There to remain.
+
+LYSANDER	                  Helen, it is not so.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,
+	Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear.
+	Look, where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.
+
+	[Re-enter HERMIA]
+
+HERMIA	Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
+	The ear more quick of apprehension makes;
+	Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,
+	It pays the hearing double recompense.
+	Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found;
+	Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound
+	But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?
+
+LYSANDER	Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go?
+
+HERMIA	What love could press Lysander from my side?
+
+LYSANDER	Lysander's love, that would not let him bide,
+	Fair Helena, who more engilds the night
+	Than all you fiery oes and eyes of light.
+	Why seek'st thou me? could not this make thee know,
+	The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so?
+
+HERMIA	You speak not as you think: it cannot be.
+
+HELENA	Lo, she is one of this confederacy!
+	Now I perceive they have conjoin'd all three
+	To fashion this false sport, in spite of me.
+	Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid!
+	Have you conspired, have you with these contrived
+	To bait me with this foul derision?
+	Is all the counsel that we two have shared,
+	The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent,
+	When we have chid the hasty-footed time
+	For parting us,--O, is it all forgot?
+	All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence?
+	We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,
+	Have with our needles created both one flower,
+	Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
+	Both warbling of one song, both in one key,
+	As if our hands, our sides, voices and minds,
+	Had been incorporate. So we grow together,
+	Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
+	But yet an union in partition;
+	Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
+	So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart;
+	Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,
+	Due but to one and crowned with one crest.
+	And will you rent our ancient love asunder,
+	To join with men in scorning your poor friend?
+	It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly:
+	Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,
+	Though I alone do feel the injury.
+
+HERMIA	I am amazed at your passionate words.
+	I scorn you not: it seems that you scorn me.
+
+HELENA	Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn,
+	To follow me and praise my eyes and face?
+	And made your other love, Demetrius,
+	Who even but now did spurn me with his foot,
+	To call me goddess, nymph, divine and rare,
+	Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this
+	To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander
+	Deny your love, so rich within his soul,
+	And tender me, forsooth, affection,
+	But by your setting on, by your consent?
+	What thought I be not so in grace as you,
+	So hung upon with love, so fortunate,
+	But miserable most, to love unloved?
+	This you should pity rather than despise.
+
+HERNIA	I understand not what you mean by this.
+
+HELENA	Ay, do, persever, counterfeit sad looks,
+	Make mouths upon me when I turn my back;
+	Wink each at other; hold the sweet jest up:
+	This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.
+	If you have any pity, grace, or manners,
+	You would not make me such an argument.
+	But fare ye well: 'tis partly my own fault;
+	Which death or absence soon shall remedy.
+
+LYSANDER	Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse:
+	My love, my life my soul, fair Helena!
+
+HELENA	O excellent!
+
+HERMIA	                  Sweet, do not scorn her so.
+
+DEMETRIUS	If she cannot entreat, I can compel.
+
+LYSANDER	Thou canst compel no more than she entreat:
+	Thy threats have no more strength than her weak prayers.
+	Helen, I love thee; by my life, I do:
+	I swear by that which I will lose for thee,
+	To prove him false that says I love thee not.
+
+DEMETRIUS	I say I love thee more than he can do.
+
+LYSANDER	If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Quick, come!
+
+HERMIA	Lysander, whereto tends all this?
+
+LYSANDER	Away, you Ethiope!
+
+DEMETRIUS	                  No, no; he'll [        ]
+	Seem to break loose; take on as you would follow,
+	But yet come not: you are a tame man, go!
+
+LYSANDER	Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! vile thing, let loose,
+	Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent!
+
+HERMIA	Why are you grown so rude? what change is this?
+	Sweet love,--
+
+LYSANDER	Thy love! out, tawny Tartar, out!
+	Out, loathed medicine! hated potion, hence!
+
+HERMIA	Do you not jest?
+
+HELENA	Yes, sooth; and so do you.
+
+LYSANDER	Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.
+
+DEMETRIUS	I would I had your bond, for I perceive
+	A weak bond holds you: I'll not trust your word.
+
+LYSANDER	What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?
+	Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so.
+
+HERMIA	What, can you do me greater harm than hate?
+	Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love!
+	Am not I Hermia? are not you Lysander?
+	I am as fair now as I was erewhile.
+	Since night you loved me; yet since night you left
+	me:
+	Why, then you left me--O, the gods forbid!--
+	In earnest, shall I say?
+
+LYSANDER	Ay, by my life;
+	And never did desire to see thee more.
+	Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt;
+	Be certain, nothing truer; 'tis no jest
+	That I do hate thee and love Helena.
+
+HERMIA	O me! you juggler! you canker-blossom!
+	You thief of love! what, have you come by night
+	And stolen my love's heart from him?
+
+HELENA	Fine, i'faith!
+	Have you no modesty, no maiden shame,
+	No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear
+	Impatient answers from my gentle tongue?
+	Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet, you!
+
+HERMIA	Puppet? why so? ay, that way goes the game.
+	Now I perceive that she hath made compare
+	Between our statures; she hath urged her height;
+	And with her personage, her tall personage,
+	Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail'd with him.
+	And are you grown so high in his esteem;
+	Because I am so dwarfish and so low?
+	How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak;
+	How low am I? I am not yet so low
+	But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.
+
+HELENA	I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen,
+	Let her not hurt me: I was never curst;
+	I have no gift at all in shrewishness;
+	I am a right maid for my cowardice:
+	Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think,
+	Because she is something lower than myself,
+	That I can match her.
+
+HERMIA	Lower! hark, again.
+
+HELENA	Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me.
+	I evermore did love you, Hermia,
+	Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong'd you;
+	Save that, in love unto Demetrius,
+	I told him of your stealth unto this wood.
+	He follow'd you; for love I follow'd him;
+	But he hath chid me hence and threaten'd me
+	To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too:
+	And now, so you will let me quiet go,
+	To Athens will I bear my folly back
+	And follow you no further: let me go:
+	You see how simple and how fond I am.
+
+HERMIA	Why, get you gone: who is't that hinders you?
+
+HELENA	A foolish heart, that I leave here behind.
+
+HERMIA	What, with Lysander?
+
+HELENA	With Demetrius.
+
+LYSANDER	Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena.
+
+DEMETRIUS	No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part.
+
+HELENA	O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd!
+	She was a vixen when she went to school;
+	And though she be but little, she is fierce.
+
+HERMIA	'Little' again! nothing but 'low' and 'little'!
+	Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
+	Let me come to her.
+
+LYSANDER	Get you gone, you dwarf;
+	You minimus, of hindering knot-grass made;
+	You bead, you acorn.
+
+DEMETRIUS	You are too officious
+	In her behalf that scorns your services.
+	Let her alone: speak not of Helena;
+	Take not her part; for, if thou dost intend
+	Never so little show of love to her,
+	Thou shalt aby it.
+
+LYSANDER	                  Now she holds me not;
+	Now follow, if thou darest, to try whose right,
+	Of thine or mine, is most in Helena.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Follow! nay, I'll go with thee, cheek by jole.
+
+	[Exeunt LYSANDER and DEMETRIUS]
+
+HERMIA	You, mistress, all this coil is 'long of you:
+	Nay, go not back.
+
+HELENA	                  I will not trust you, I,
+	Nor longer stay in your curst company.
+	Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray,
+	My legs are longer though, to run away.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HERMIA	I am amazed, and know not what to say.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OBERON	This is thy negligence: still thou mistakest,
+	Or else committ'st thy knaveries wilfully.
+
+PUCK	Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook.
+	Did not you tell me I should know the man
+	By the Athenian garment be had on?
+	And so far blameless proves my enterprise,
+	That I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes;
+	And so far am I glad it so did sort
+	As this their jangling I esteem a sport.
+
+OBERON	Thou see'st these lovers seek a place to fight:
+	Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night;
+	The starry welkin cover thou anon
+	With drooping fog as black as Acheron,
+	And lead these testy rivals so astray
+	As one come not within another's way.
+	Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue,
+	Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong;
+	And sometime rail thou like Demetrius;
+	And from each other look thou lead them thus,
+	Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep
+	With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep:
+	Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye;
+	Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,
+	To take from thence all error with his might,
+	And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.
+	When they next wake, all this derision
+	Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision,
+	And back to Athens shall the lovers wend,
+	With league whose date till death shall never end.
+	Whiles I in this affair do thee employ,
+	I'll to my queen and beg her Indian boy;
+	And then I will her charmed eye release
+	From monster's view, and all things shall be peace.
+
+PUCK	My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,
+	For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,
+	And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger;
+	At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,
+	Troop home to churchyards: damned spirits all,
+	That in crossways and floods have burial,
+	Already to their wormy beds are gone;
+	For fear lest day should look their shames upon,
+	They willfully themselves exile from light
+	And must for aye consort with black-brow'd night.
+
+OBERON	But we are spirits of another sort:
+	I with the morning's love have oft made sport,
+	And, like a forester, the groves may tread,
+	Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red,
+	Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,
+	Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams.
+	But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay:
+	We may effect this business yet ere day.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PUCK	   Up and down, up and down,
+	I will lead them up and down:
+	I am fear'd in field and town:
+	Goblin, lead them up and down.
+	Here comes one.
+
+	[Re-enter LYSANDER]
+
+LYSANDER	Where art thou, proud Demetrius? speak thou now.
+
+PUCK	Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where art thou?
+
+LYSANDER	I will be with thee straight.
+
+PUCK	Follow me, then,
+	To plainer ground.
+
+	[Exit LYSANDER, as following the voice]
+
+	[Re-enter DEMETRIUS]
+
+DEMETRIUS	                  Lysander! speak again:
+	Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled?
+	Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?
+
+PUCK	Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars,
+	Telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars,
+	And wilt not come? Come, recreant; come, thou child;
+	I'll whip thee with a rod: he is defiled
+	That draws a sword on thee.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Yea, art thou there?
+
+PUCK	Follow my voice: we'll try no manhood here.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Re-enter LYSANDER]
+
+LYSANDER	He goes before me and still dares me on:
+	When I come where he calls, then he is gone.
+	The villain is much lighter-heel'd than I:
+	I follow'd fast, but faster he did fly;
+	That fallen am I in dark uneven way,
+	And here will rest me.
+
+	[Lies down]
+
+	Come, thou gentle day!
+	For if but once thou show me thy grey light,
+	I'll find Demetrius and revenge this spite.
+
+	[Sleeps]
+
+	[Re-enter PUCK and DEMETRIUS]
+
+PUCK	Ho, ho, ho! Coward, why comest thou not?
+
+DEMETRIUS	Abide me, if thou darest; for well I wot
+	Thou runn'st before me, shifting every place,
+	And darest not stand, nor look me in the face.
+	Where art thou now?
+
+PUCK	Come hither: I am here.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Nay, then, thou mock'st me. Thou shalt buy this dear,
+	If ever I thy face by daylight see:
+	Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me
+	To measure out my length on this cold bed.
+	By day's approach look to be visited.
+
+	[Lies down and sleeps]
+
+	[Re-enter HELENA]
+
+HELENA	O weary night, O long and tedious night,
+	Abate thy hour! Shine comforts from the east,
+	That I may back to Athens by daylight,
+	From these that my poor company detest:
+	And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye,
+	Steal me awhile from mine own company.
+
+	[Lies down and sleeps]
+
+PUCK	Yet but three? Come one more;
+	Two of both kinds make up four.
+	Here she comes, curst and sad:
+	Cupid is a knavish lad,
+	Thus to make poor females mad.
+
+	[Re-enter HERMIA]
+
+HERMIA	Never so weary, never so in woe,
+	Bedabbled with the dew and torn with briers,
+	I can no further crawl, no further go;
+	My legs can keep no pace with my desires.
+	Here will I rest me till the break of day.
+	Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray!
+
+	[Lies down and sleeps]
+
+PUCK	                  On the ground
+	Sleep sound:
+	I'll apply
+	To your eye,
+	Gentle lover, remedy.
+
+	[Squeezing the juice on LYSANDER's eyes]
+
+	When thou wakest,
+	Thou takest
+	True delight
+	In the sight
+	Of thy former lady's eye:
+	And the country proverb known,
+	That every man should take his own,
+	In your waking shall be shown:
+	Jack shall have Jill;
+	Nought shall go ill;
+	The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The same. LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HELENA, and HERMIA
+	lying asleep.
+
+
+	[Enter TITANIA and BOTTOM; PEASEBLOSSOM, COBWEB, MOTH,
+	MUSTARDSEED, and other Fairies attending; OBERON
+	behind unseen]
+
+TITANIA	Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,
+	While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
+	And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,
+	And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
+
+BOTTOM	Where's Peaseblossom?
+
+PEASEBLOSSOM	Ready.
+
+BOTTOM	Scratch my head Peaseblossom. Where's Mounsieur Cobweb?
+
+COBWEB	Ready.
+
+BOTTOM	Mounsieur Cobweb, good mounsieur, get you your
+	weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipped
+	humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good
+	mounsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret
+	yourself too much in the action, mounsieur; and,
+	good mounsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not;
+	I would be loath to have you overflown with a
+	honey-bag, signior. Where's Mounsieur Mustardseed?
+
+MUSTARDSEED	Ready.
+
+BOTTOM	Give me your neaf, Mounsieur Mustardseed. Pray you,
+	leave your courtesy, good mounsieur.
+
+MUSTARDSEED	What's your Will?
+
+BOTTOM	Nothing, good mounsieur, but to help Cavalery Cobweb
+	to scratch. I must to the barber's, monsieur; for
+	methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face; and I
+	am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me,
+	I must scratch.
+
+TITANIA	What, wilt thou hear some music,
+	my sweet love?
+
+BOTTOM	I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let's have
+	the tongs and the bones.
+
+TITANIA	Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.
+
+BOTTOM	Truly, a peck of provender: I could munch your good
+	dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle
+	of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.
+
+TITANIA	I have a venturous fairy that shall seek
+	The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.
+
+BOTTOM	I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas.
+	But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me: I
+	have an exposition of sleep come upon me.
+
+TITANIA	Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.
+	Fairies, begone, and be all ways away.
+
+	[Exeunt fairies]
+
+	So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle
+	Gently entwist; the female ivy so
+	Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.
+	O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee!
+
+	[They sleep]
+
+	[Enter PUCK]
+
+OBERON	[Advancing]  Welcome, good Robin.
+	See'st thou this sweet sight?
+	Her dotage now I do begin to pity:
+	For, meeting her of late behind the wood,
+	Seeking sweet favours from this hateful fool,
+	I did upbraid her and fall out with her;
+	For she his hairy temples then had rounded
+	With a coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers;
+	And that same dew, which sometime on the buds
+	Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls,
+	Stood now within the pretty flowerets' eyes
+	Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail.
+	When I had at my pleasure taunted her
+	And she in mild terms begg'd my patience,
+	I then did ask of her her changeling child;
+	Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent
+	To bear him to my bower in fairy land.
+	And now I have the boy, I will undo
+	This hateful imperfection of her eyes:
+	And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp
+	From off the head of this Athenian swain;
+	That, he awaking when the other do,
+	May all to Athens back again repair
+	And think no more of this night's accidents
+	But as the fierce vexation of a dream.
+	But first I will release the fairy queen.
+	Be as thou wast wont to be;
+	See as thou wast wont to see:
+	Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower
+	Hath such force and blessed power.
+	Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen.
+
+TITANIA	My Oberon! what visions have I seen!
+	Methought I was enamour'd of an ass.
+
+OBERON	There lies your love.
+
+TITANIA	How came these things to pass?
+	O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!
+
+OBERON	Silence awhile. Robin, take off this head.
+	Titania, music call; and strike more dead
+	Than common sleep of all these five the sense.
+
+TITANIA	Music, ho! music, such as charmeth sleep!
+
+	[Music, still]
+
+PUCK	Now, when thou wakest, with thine
+	own fool's eyes peep.
+
+OBERON	Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands with me,
+	And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.
+	Now thou and I are new in amity,
+	And will to-morrow midnight solemnly
+	Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly,
+	And bless it to all fair prosperity:
+	There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be
+	Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.
+
+PUCK	Fairy king, attend, and mark:
+	I do hear the morning lark.
+
+OBERON	Then, my queen, in silence sad,
+	Trip we after the night's shade:
+	We the globe can compass soon,
+	Swifter than the wandering moon.
+
+TITANIA	Come, my lord, and in our flight
+	Tell me how it came this night
+	That I sleeping here was found
+	With these mortals on the ground.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Horns winded within]
+
+	[Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train]
+
+THESEUS	Go, one of you, find out the forester;
+	For now our observation is perform'd;
+	And since we have the vaward of the day,
+	My love shall hear the music of my hounds.
+	Uncouple in the western valley; let them go:
+	Dispatch, I say, and find the forester.
+
+	[Exit an Attendant]
+
+	We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top,
+	And mark the musical confusion
+	Of hounds and echo in conjunction.
+
+HIPPOLYTA	I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,
+	When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear
+	With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear
+	Such gallant chiding: for, besides the groves,
+	The skies, the fountains, every region near
+	Seem'd all one mutual cry: I never heard
+	So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
+
+THESEUS	My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
+	So flew'd, so sanded, and their heads are hung
+	With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
+	Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls;
+	Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells,
+	Each under each. A cry more tuneable
+	Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn,
+	In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly:
+	Judge when you hear. But, soft! what nymphs are these?
+
+EGEUS	My lord, this is my daughter here asleep;
+	And this, Lysander; this Demetrius is;
+	This Helena, old Nedar's Helena:
+	I wonder of their being here together.
+
+THESEUS	No doubt they rose up early to observe
+	The rite of May, and hearing our intent,
+	Came here in grace our solemnity.
+	But speak, Egeus; is not this the day
+	That Hermia should give answer of her choice?
+
+EGEUS	It is, my lord.
+
+THESEUS	Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns.
+
+	[Horns and shout within. LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS,
+	HELENA, and HERMIA wake and start up]
+
+	Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past:
+	Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?
+
+LYSANDER	Pardon, my lord.
+
+THESEUS	                  I pray you all, stand up.
+	I know you two are rival enemies:
+	How comes this gentle concord in the world,
+	That hatred is so far from jealousy,
+	To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity?
+
+LYSANDER	My lord, I shall reply amazedly,
+	Half sleep, half waking: but as yet, I swear,
+	I cannot truly say how I came here;
+	But, as I think,--for truly would I speak,
+	And now do I bethink me, so it is,--
+	I came with Hermia hither: our intent
+	Was to be gone from Athens, where we might,
+	Without the peril of the Athenian law.
+
+EGEUS	Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough:
+	I beg the law, the law, upon his head.
+	They would have stolen away; they would, Demetrius,
+	Thereby to have defeated you and me,
+	You of your wife and me of my consent,
+	Of my consent that she should be your wife.
+
+DEMETRIUS	My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,
+	Of this their purpose hither to this wood;
+	And I in fury hither follow'd them,
+	Fair Helena in fancy following me.
+	But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,--
+	But by some power it is,--my love to Hermia,
+	Melted as the snow, seems to me now
+	As the remembrance of an idle gaud
+	Which in my childhood I did dote upon;
+	And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,
+	The object and the pleasure of mine eye,
+	Is only Helena. To her, my lord,
+	Was I betroth'd ere I saw Hermia:
+	But, like in sickness, did I loathe this food;
+	But, as in health, come to my natural taste,
+	Now I do wish it, love it, long for it,
+	And will for evermore be true to it.
+
+THESEUS	Fair lovers, you are fortunately met:
+	Of this discourse we more will hear anon.
+	Egeus, I will overbear your will;
+	For in the temple by and by with us
+	These couples shall eternally be knit:
+	And, for the morning now is something worn,
+	Our purposed hunting shall be set aside.
+	Away with us to Athens; three and three,
+	We'll hold a feast in great solemnity.
+	Come, Hippolyta.
+
+	[Exeunt THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train]
+
+DEMETRIUS	These things seem small and undistinguishable,
+HERMIA	Methinks I see these things with parted eye,
+	When every thing seems double.
+
+HELENA	So methinks:
+	And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,
+	Mine own, and not mine own.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Are you sure
+	That we are awake? It seems to me
+	That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think
+	The duke was here, and bid us follow him?
+
+HERMIA	Yea; and my father.
+
+HELENA	And Hippolyta.
+
+LYSANDER	And he did bid us follow to the temple.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Why, then, we are awake: let's follow him
+	And by the way let us recount our dreams.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+BOTTOM	[Awaking]  When my cue comes, call me, and I will
+	answer: my next is, 'Most fair Pyramus.' Heigh-ho!
+	Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout,
+	the tinker! Starveling! God's my life, stolen
+	hence, and left me asleep! I have had a most rare
+	vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to
+	say what dream it was: man is but an ass, if he go
+	about to expound this dream. Methought I was--there
+	is no man can tell what. Methought I was,--and
+	methought I had,--but man is but a patched fool, if
+	he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye
+	of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not
+	seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue
+	to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream
+	was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of
+	this dream: it shall be called Bottom's Dream,
+	because it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the
+	latter end of a play, before the duke:
+	peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall
+	sing it at her death.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Athens. QUINCE'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter QUINCE, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING]
+
+QUINCE	Have you sent to Bottom's house? is he come home yet?
+
+STARVELING	He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is
+	transported.
+
+FLUTE	If he come not, then the play is marred: it goes
+	not forward, doth it?
+
+QUINCE	It is not possible: you have not a man in all
+	Athens able to discharge Pyramus but he.
+
+FLUTE	No, he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft
+	man in Athens.
+
+QUINCE	Yea and the best person too; and he is a very
+	paramour for a sweet voice.
+
+FLUTE	You must say 'paragon:' a paramour is, God bless us,
+	a thing of naught.
+
+	[Enter SNUG]
+
+SNUG	Masters, the duke is coming from the temple, and
+	there is two or three lords and ladies more married:
+	if our sport had gone forward, we had all been made
+	men.
+
+FLUTE	O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence a
+	day during his life; he could not have 'scaped
+	sixpence a day: an the duke had not given him
+	sixpence a day for playing Pyramus, I'll be hanged;
+	he would have deserved it: sixpence a day in
+	Pyramus, or nothing.
+
+	[Enter BOTTOM]
+
+BOTTOM	Where are these lads? where are these hearts?
+
+QUINCE	Bottom! O most courageous day! O most happy hour!
+
+BOTTOM	Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but ask me not
+	what; for if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I
+	will tell you every thing, right as it fell out.
+
+QUINCE	Let us hear, sweet Bottom.
+
+BOTTOM	Not a word of me. All that I will tell you is, that
+	the duke hath dined. Get your apparel together,
+	good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your
+	pumps; meet presently at the palace; every man look
+	o'er his part; for the short and the long is, our
+	play is preferred. In any case, let Thisby have
+	clean linen; and let not him that plays the lion
+	pair his nails, for they shall hang out for the
+	lion's claws. And, most dear actors, eat no onions
+	nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath; and I
+	do not doubt but to hear them say, it is a sweet
+	comedy. No more words: away! go, away!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Athens. The palace of THESEUS.
+
+
+	[Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, Lords and
+	Attendants]
+
+HIPPOLYTA	'Tis strange my Theseus, that these
+	lovers speak of.
+
+THESEUS	More strange than true: I never may believe
+	These antique fables, nor these fairy toys.
+	Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
+	Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
+	More than cool reason ever comprehends.
+	The lunatic, the lover and the poet
+	Are of imagination all compact:
+	One sees more devils than vast hell can hold,
+	That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,
+	Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:
+	The poet's eye, in fine frenzy rolling,
+	Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
+	And as imagination bodies forth
+	The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
+	Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing
+	A local habitation and a name.
+	Such tricks hath strong imagination,
+	That if it would but apprehend some joy,
+	It comprehends some bringer of that joy;
+	Or in the night, imagining some fear,
+	How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
+
+HIPPOLYTA	But all the story of the night told over,
+	And all their minds transfigured so together,
+	More witnesseth than fancy's images
+	And grows to something of great constancy;
+	But, howsoever, strange and admirable.
+
+THESEUS	Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.
+
+	[Enter LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HERMIA, and HELENA]
+
+	Joy, gentle friends! joy and fresh days of love
+	Accompany your hearts!
+
+LYSANDER	More than to us
+	Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed!
+
+THESEUS	Come now; what masques, what dances shall we have,
+	To wear away this long age of three hours
+	Between our after-supper and bed-time?
+	Where is our usual manager of mirth?
+	What revels are in hand? Is there no play,
+	To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?
+	Call Philostrate.
+
+PHILOSTRATE	                  Here, mighty Theseus.
+
+THESEUS	Say, what abridgement have you for this evening?
+	What masque? what music? How shall we beguile
+	The lazy time, if not with some delight?
+
+PHILOSTRATE	There is a brief how many sports are ripe:
+	Make choice of which your highness will see first.
+
+	[Giving a paper]
+
+THESEUS	[Reads]  'The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung
+	By an Athenian eunuch to the harp.'
+	We'll none of that: that have I told my love,
+	In glory of my kinsman Hercules.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals,
+	Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.'
+	That is an old device; and it was play'd
+	When I from Thebes came last a conqueror.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'The thrice three Muses mourning for the death
+	Of Learning, late deceased in beggary.'
+	That is some satire, keen and critical,
+	Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus
+	And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth.'
+	Merry and tragical! tedious and brief!
+	That is, hot ice and wondrous strange snow.
+	How shall we find the concord of this discord?
+
+PHILOSTRATE	A play there is, my lord, some ten words long,
+	Which is as brief as I have known a play;
+	But by ten words, my lord, it is too long,
+	Which makes it tedious; for in all the play
+	There is not one word apt, one player fitted:
+	And tragical, my noble lord, it is;
+	For Pyramus therein doth kill himself.
+	Which, when I saw rehearsed, I must confess,
+	Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears
+	The passion of loud laughter never shed.
+
+THESEUS	What are they that do play it?
+
+PHILOSTRATE	Hard-handed men that work in Athens here,
+	Which never labour'd in their minds till now,
+	And now have toil'd their unbreathed memories
+	With this same play, against your nuptial.
+
+THESEUS	And we will hear it.
+
+PHILOSTRATE	No, my noble lord;
+	It is not for you: I have heard it over,
+	And it is nothing, nothing in the world;
+	Unless you can find sport in their intents,
+	Extremely stretch'd and conn'd with cruel pain,
+	To do you service.
+
+THESEUS	                  I will hear that play;
+	For never anything can be amiss,
+	When simpleness and duty tender it.
+	Go, bring them in: and take your places, ladies.
+
+	[Exit PHILOSTRATE]
+
+HIPPOLYTA	I love not to see wretchedness o'er charged
+	And duty in his service perishing.
+
+THESEUS	Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.
+
+HIPPOLYTA	He says they can do nothing in this kind.
+
+THESEUS	The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing.
+	Our sport shall be to take what they mistake:
+	And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect
+	Takes it in might, not merit.
+	Where I have come, great clerks have purposed
+	To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
+	Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,
+	Make periods in the midst of sentences,
+	Throttle their practised accent in their fears
+	And in conclusion dumbly have broke off,
+	Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet,
+	Out of this silence yet I pick'd a welcome;
+	And in the modesty of fearful duty
+	I read as much as from the rattling tongue
+	Of saucy and audacious eloquence.
+	Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity
+	In least speak most, to my capacity.
+
+	[Re-enter PHILOSTRATE]
+
+PHILOSTRATE	So please your grace, the Prologue is address'd.
+
+THESEUS	Let him approach.
+
+	[Flourish of trumpets]
+
+	[Enter QUINCE for the Prologue]
+
+Prologue	If we offend, it is with our good will.
+	That you should think, we come not to offend,
+	But with good will. To show our simple skill,
+	That is the true beginning of our end.
+	Consider then we come but in despite.
+	We do not come as minding to contest you,
+	Our true intent is. All for your delight
+	We are not here. That you should here repent you,
+	The actors are at hand and by their show
+	You shall know all that you are like to know.
+
+THESEUS	This fellow doth not stand upon points.
+
+LYSANDER	He hath rid his prologue like a rough colt; he knows
+	not the stop. A good moral, my lord: it is not
+	enough to speak, but to speak true.
+
+HIPPOLYTA	Indeed he hath played on his prologue like a child
+	on a recorder; a sound, but not in government.
+
+THESEUS	His speech, was like a tangled chain; nothing
+	impaired, but all disordered. Who is next?
+
+	[Enter Pyramus and Thisbe, Wall, Moonshine, and Lion]
+
+Prologue	Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show;
+	But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.
+	This man is Pyramus, if you would know;
+	This beauteous lady Thisby is certain.
+	This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present
+	Wall, that vile Wall which did these lovers sunder;
+	And through Wall's chink, poor souls, they are content
+	To whisper. At the which let no man wonder.
+	This man, with lanthorn, dog, and bush of thorn,
+	Presenteth Moonshine; for, if you will know,
+	By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn
+	To meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to woo.
+	This grisly beast, which Lion hight by name,
+	The trusty Thisby, coming first by night,
+	Did scare away, or rather did affright;
+	And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall,
+	Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain.
+	Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,
+	And finds his trusty Thisby's mantle slain:
+	Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade,
+	He bravely broach'd is boiling bloody breast;
+	And Thisby, tarrying in mulberry shade,
+	His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest,
+	Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain
+	At large discourse, while here they do remain.
+
+	[Exeunt Prologue, Thisbe, Lion, and Moonshine]
+
+THESEUS	I wonder if the lion be to speak.
+
+DEMETRIUS	No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when many asses do.
+
+Wall	In this same interlude it doth befall
+	That I, one Snout by name, present a wall;
+	And such a wall, as I would have you think,
+	That had in it a crannied hole or chink,
+	Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby,
+	Did whisper often very secretly.
+	This loam, this rough-cast and this stone doth show
+	That I am that same wall; the truth is so:
+	And this the cranny is, right and sinister,
+	Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.
+
+THESEUS	Would you desire lime and hair to speak better?
+
+DEMETRIUS	It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard
+	discourse, my lord.
+
+	[Enter Pyramus]
+
+THESEUS	Pyramus draws near the wall: silence!
+
+Pyramus	O grim-look'd night! O night with hue so black!
+	O night, which ever art when day is not!
+	O night, O night! alack, alack, alack,
+	I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot!
+	And thou, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall,
+	That stand'st between her father's ground and mine!
+	Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall,
+	Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne!
+
+	[Wall holds up his fingers]
+
+	Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this!
+	But what see I? No Thisby do I see.
+	O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss!
+	Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me!
+
+THESEUS	The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again.
+
+Pyramus	No, in truth, sir, he should not. 'Deceiving me'
+	is Thisby's cue: she is to enter now, and I am to
+	spy her through the wall. You shall see, it will
+	fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes.
+
+	[Enter Thisbe]
+
+Thisbe	O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans,
+	For parting my fair Pyramus and me!
+	My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones,
+	Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.
+
+Pyramus	I see a voice: now will I to the chink,
+	To spy an I can hear my Thisby's face. Thisby!
+
+Thisbe	My love thou art, my love I think.
+
+Pyramus	Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace;
+	And, like Limander, am I trusty still.
+
+Thisbe	And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.
+
+Pyramus	Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.
+
+Thisbe	As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.
+
+Pyramus	O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall!
+
+Thisbe	I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all.
+
+Pyramus	Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway?
+
+Thisbe	'Tide life, 'tide death, I come without delay.
+
+	[Exeunt Pyramus and Thisbe]
+
+Wall	Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so;
+	And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+THESEUS	Now is the mural down between the two neighbours.
+
+DEMETRIUS	No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear
+	without warning.
+
+HIPPOLYTA	This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.
+
+THESEUS	The best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst
+	are no worse, if imagination amend them.
+
+HIPPOLYTA	It must be your imagination then, and not theirs.
+
+THESEUS	If we imagine no worse of them than they of
+	themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here
+	come two noble beasts in, a man and a lion.
+
+	[Enter Lion and Moonshine]
+
+Lion	You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear
+	The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor,
+	May now perchance both quake and tremble here,
+	When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.
+	Then know that I, one Snug the joiner, am
+	A lion-fell, nor else no lion's dam;
+	For, if I should as lion come in strife
+	Into this place, 'twere pity on my life.
+
+THESEUS	A very gentle beast, of a good conscience.
+
+DEMETRIUS	The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw.
+
+LYSANDER	This lion is a very fox for his valour.
+
+THESEUS	True; and a goose for his discretion.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his
+	discretion; and the fox carries the goose.
+
+THESEUS	His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour;
+	for the goose carries not the fox. It is well:
+	leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the moon.
+
+Moonshine	This lanthorn doth the horned moon present;--
+
+DEMETRIUS	He should have worn the horns on his head.
+
+THESEUS	He is no crescent, and his horns are
+	invisible within the circumference.
+
+Moonshine	This lanthorn doth the horned moon present;
+	Myself the man i' the moon do seem to be.
+
+THESEUS	This is the greatest error of all the rest: the man
+	should be put into the lanthorn. How is it else the
+	man i' the moon?
+
+DEMETRIUS	He dares not come there for the candle; for, you
+	see, it is already in snuff.
+
+HIPPOLYTA	I am aweary of this moon: would he would change!
+
+THESEUS	It appears, by his small light of discretion, that
+	he is in the wane; but yet, in courtesy, in all
+	reason, we must stay the time.
+
+LYSANDER	Proceed, Moon.
+
+Moonshine	All that I have to say, is, to tell you that the
+	lanthorn is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this
+	thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Why, all these should be in the lanthorn; for all
+	these are in the moon. But, silence! here comes Thisbe.
+
+	[Enter Thisbe]
+
+Thisbe	This is old Ninny's tomb. Where is my love?
+
+Lion	[Roaring]  Oh--
+
+	[Thisbe runs off]
+
+DEMETRIUS	Well roared, Lion.
+
+THESEUS	Well run, Thisbe.
+
+HIPPOLYTA	Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a
+	good grace.
+
+	[The Lion shakes Thisbe's mantle, and exit]
+
+THESEUS	Well moused, Lion.
+
+LYSANDER	And so the lion vanished.
+
+DEMETRIUS	And then came Pyramus.
+
+	[Enter Pyramus]
+
+Pyramus	Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
+	I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright;
+	For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams,
+	I trust to take of truest Thisby sight.
+	But stay, O spite!
+	But mark, poor knight,
+	What dreadful dole is here!
+	Eyes, do you see?
+	How can it be?
+	O dainty duck! O dear!
+	Thy mantle good,
+	What, stain'd with blood!
+	Approach, ye Furies fell!
+	O Fates, come, come,
+	Cut thread and thrum;
+	Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!
+
+THESEUS	This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would
+	go near to make a man look sad.
+
+HIPPOLYTA	Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.
+
+Pyramus	O wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame?
+	Since lion vile hath here deflower'd my dear:
+	Which is--no, no--which was the fairest dame
+	That lived, that loved, that liked, that look'd
+	with cheer.
+	Come, tears, confound;
+	Out, sword, and wound
+	The pap of Pyramus;
+	Ay, that left pap,
+	Where heart doth hop:
+
+	[Stabs himself]
+
+	Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.
+	Now am I dead,
+	Now am I fled;
+	My soul is in the sky:
+	Tongue, lose thy light;
+	Moon take thy flight:
+
+	[Exit Moonshine]
+
+	Now die, die, die, die, die.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+DEMETRIUS	No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one.
+
+LYSANDER	Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing.
+
+THESEUS	With the help of a surgeon he might yet recover, and
+	prove an ass.
+
+HIPPOLYTA	How chance Moonshine is gone before Thisbe comes
+	back and finds her lover?
+
+THESEUS	She will find him by starlight. Here she comes; and
+	her passion ends the play.
+
+	[Re-enter Thisbe]
+
+HIPPOLYTA	Methinks she should not use a long one for such a
+	Pyramus: I hope she will be brief.
+
+DEMETRIUS	A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, which
+	Thisbe, is the better; he for a man, God warrant us;
+	she for a woman, God bless us.
+
+LYSANDER	She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.
+
+DEMETRIUS	And thus she means, videlicet:--
+
+Thisbe	          Asleep, my love?
+	What, dead, my dove?
+	O Pyramus, arise!
+	Speak, speak. Quite dumb?
+	Dead, dead? A tomb
+	Must cover thy sweet eyes.
+	These My lips,
+	This cherry nose,
+	These yellow cowslip cheeks,
+	Are gone, are gone:
+	Lovers, make moan:
+	His eyes were green as leeks.
+	O Sisters Three,
+	Come, come to me,
+	With hands as pale as milk;
+	Lay them in gore,
+	Since you have shore
+	With shears his thread of silk.
+	Tongue, not a word:
+	Come, trusty sword;
+	Come, blade, my breast imbrue:
+
+	[Stabs herself]
+
+	And, farewell, friends;
+	Thus Thisby ends:
+	Adieu, adieu, adieu.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+THESEUS	Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Ay, and Wall too.
+
+BOTTOM	[Starting up]  No assure you; the wall is down that
+	parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the
+	epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance between two
+	of our company?
+
+THESEUS	No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no
+	excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are all
+	dead, there needs none to be blamed. Marry, if he
+	that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged himself
+	in Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine
+	tragedy: and so it is, truly; and very notably
+	discharged. But come, your Bergomask: let your
+	epilogue alone.
+
+	[A dance]
+
+	The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve:
+	Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time.
+	I fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn
+	As much as we this night have overwatch'd.
+	This palpable-gross play hath well beguiled
+	The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed.
+	A fortnight hold we this solemnity,
+	In nightly revels and new jollity.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Enter PUCK]
+
+PUCK	     Now the hungry lion roars,
+	And the wolf behowls the moon;
+	Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
+	All with weary task fordone.
+	Now the wasted brands do glow,
+	Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
+	Puts the wretch that lies in woe
+	In remembrance of a shroud.
+	Now it is the time of night
+	That the graves all gaping wide,
+	Every one lets forth his sprite,
+	In the church-way paths to glide:
+	And we fairies, that do run
+	By the triple Hecate's team,
+	From the presence of the sun,
+	Following darkness like a dream,
+	Now are frolic: not a mouse
+	Shall disturb this hallow'd house:
+	I am sent with broom before,
+	To sweep the dust behind the door.
+
+	[Enter OBERON and TITANIA with their train]
+
+OBERON	     Through the house give gathering light,
+	By the dead and drowsy fire:
+	Every elf and fairy sprite
+	Hop as light as bird from brier;
+	And this ditty, after me,
+	Sing, and dance it trippingly.
+
+TITANIA	First, rehearse your song by rote
+	To each word a warbling note:
+	Hand in hand, with fairy grace,
+	Will we sing, and bless this place.
+
+	[Song and dance]
+
+OBERON	Now, until the break of day,
+	Through this house each fairy stray.
+	To the best bride-bed will we,
+	Which by us shall blessed be;
+	And the issue there create
+	Ever shall be fortunate.
+	So shall all the couples three
+	Ever true in loving be;
+	And the blots of Nature's hand
+	Shall not in their issue stand;
+	Never mole, hare lip, nor scar,
+	Nor mark prodigious, such as are
+	Despised in nativity,
+	Shall upon their children be.
+	With this field-dew consecrate,
+	Every fairy take his gait;
+	And each several chamber bless,
+	Through this palace, with sweet peace;
+	And the owner of it blest
+	Ever shall in safety rest.
+	Trip away; make no stay;
+	Meet me all by break of day.
+
+	[Exeunt OBERON, TITANIA, and train]
+
+PUCK	If we shadows have offended,
+	Think but this, and all is mended,
+	That you have but slumber'd here
+	While these visions did appear.
+	And this weak and idle theme,
+	No more yielding but a dream,
+	Gentles, do not reprehend:
+	if you pardon, we will mend:
+	And, as I am an honest Puck,
+	If we have unearned luck
+	Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
+	We will make amends ere long;
+	Else the Puck a liar call;
+	So, good night unto you all.
+	Give me your hands, if we be friends,
+	And Robin shall restore amends.
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+DON PEDRO	prince of Arragon.
+
+DON JOHN	his bastard brother.
+
+CLAUDIO	a young lord of Florence.
+
+BENEDICK	a young lord of Padua.
+
+LEONATO	governor of Messina.
+
+ANTONIO	his brother.
+
+BALTHASAR	attendant on Don Pedro.
+
+
+CONRADE	|
+	|  followers of Don John.
+BORACHIO	|
+
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS:
+
+DOGBERRY	a constable.
+
+VERGES	a headborough.
+	A Sexton.
+	A Boy.
+
+HERO	daughter to Leonato.
+
+BEATRICE	niece to Leonato.
+
+
+MARGARET	|
+	|  gentlewomen attending on Hero.
+URSULA	|
+
+
+	Messengers, Watch, Attendants, &c. (Lord:)
+	(Messenger:)
+	(Watchman:)
+	(First Watchman:)
+	(Second Watchman:)
+
+
+SCENE	Messina.
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before LEONATO'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter LEONATO, HERO, and BEATRICE, with a
+	Messenger]
+
+LEONATO	I learn in this letter that Don Peter of Arragon
+	comes this night to Messina.
+
+Messenger	He is very near by this: he was not three leagues off
+	when I left him.
+
+LEONATO	How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?
+
+Messenger	But few of any sort, and none of name.
+
+LEONATO	A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings
+	home full numbers. I find here that Don Peter hath
+	bestowed much honour on a young Florentine called Claudio.
+
+Messenger	Much deserved on his part and equally remembered by
+	Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the
+	promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb,
+	the feats of a lion: he hath indeed better
+	bettered expectation than you must expect of me to
+	tell you how.
+
+LEONATO	He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very much
+	glad of it.
+
+Messenger	I have already delivered him letters, and there
+	appears much joy in him; even so much that joy could
+	not show itself modest enough without a badge of
+	bitterness.
+
+LEONATO	Did he break out into tears?
+
+Messenger	In great measure.
+
+LEONATO	A kind overflow of kindness: there are no faces
+	truer than those that are so washed. How much
+	better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping!
+
+BEATRICE	I pray you, is Signior Mountanto returned from the
+	wars or no?
+
+Messenger	I know none of that name, lady: there was none such
+	in the army of any sort.
+
+LEONATO	What is he that you ask for, niece?
+
+HERO	My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua.
+
+Messenger	O, he's returned; and as pleasant as ever he was.
+
+BEATRICE	He set up his bills here in Messina and challenged
+	Cupid at the flight; and my uncle's fool, reading
+	the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged
+	him at the bird-bolt. I pray you, how many hath he
+	killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath
+	he killed? for indeed I promised to eat all of his killing.
+
+LEONATO	Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much;
+	but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not.
+
+Messenger	He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.
+
+BEATRICE	You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it:
+	he is a very valiant trencherman; he hath an
+	excellent stomach.
+
+Messenger	And a good soldier too, lady.
+
+BEATRICE	And a good soldier to a lady: but what is he to a lord?
+
+Messenger	A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all
+	honourable virtues.
+
+BEATRICE	It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man:
+	but for the stuffing,--well, we are all mortal.
+
+LEONATO	You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a
+	kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her:
+	they never meet but there's a skirmish of wit
+	between them.
+
+BEATRICE	Alas! he gets nothing by that. In our last
+	conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and
+	now is the whole man governed with one: so that if
+	he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him
+	bear it for a difference between himself and his
+	horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left,
+	to be known a reasonable creature. Who is his
+	companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother.
+
+Messenger	Is't possible?
+
+BEATRICE	Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as
+	the fashion of his hat; it ever changes with the
+	next block.
+
+Messenger	I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.
+
+BEATRICE	No; an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray
+	you, who is his companion? Is there no young
+	squarer now that will make a voyage with him to the devil?
+
+Messenger	He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.
+
+BEATRICE	O Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease: he
+	is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker
+	runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio! if
+	he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a
+	thousand pound ere a' be cured.
+
+Messenger	I will hold friends with you, lady.
+
+BEATRICE	Do, good friend.
+
+LEONATO	You will never run mad, niece.
+
+BEATRICE	No, not till a hot January.
+
+Messenger	Don Pedro is approached.
+
+	[Enter DON PEDRO, DON JOHN, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK,
+	and BALTHASAR]
+
+DON PEDRO	Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your
+	trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid
+	cost, and you encounter it.
+
+LEONATO	Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of
+	your grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should
+	remain; but when you depart from me, sorrow abides
+	and happiness takes his leave.
+
+DON PEDRO	You embrace your charge too willingly. I think this
+	is your daughter.
+
+LEONATO	Her mother hath many times told me so.
+
+BENEDICK	Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her?
+
+LEONATO	Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child.
+
+DON PEDRO	You have it full, Benedick: we may guess by this
+	what you are, being a man. Truly, the lady fathers
+	herself. Be happy, lady; for you are like an
+	honourable father.
+
+BENEDICK	If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not
+	have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as
+	like him as she is.
+
+BEATRICE	I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior
+	Benedick: nobody marks you.
+
+BENEDICK	What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?
+
+BEATRICE	Is it possible disdain should die while she hath
+	such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick?
+	Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come
+	in her presence.
+
+BENEDICK	Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I
+	am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I
+	would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard
+	heart; for, truly, I love none.
+
+BEATRICE	A dear happiness to women: they would else have
+	been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God
+	and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I
+	had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man
+	swear he loves me.
+
+BENEDICK	God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some
+	gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate
+	scratched face.
+
+BEATRICE	Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such
+	a face as yours were.
+
+BENEDICK	Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.
+
+BEATRICE	A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.
+
+BENEDICK	I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and
+	so good a continuer. But keep your way, i' God's
+	name; I have done.
+
+BEATRICE	You always end with a jade's trick: I know you of old.
+
+DON PEDRO	That is the sum of all, Leonato. Signior Claudio
+	and Signior Benedick, my dear friend Leonato hath
+	invited you all. I tell him we shall stay here at
+	the least a month; and he heartily prays some
+	occasion may detain us longer. I dare swear he is no
+	hypocrite, but prays from his heart.
+
+LEONATO	If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn.
+
+	[To DON JOHN]
+
+	Let me bid you welcome, my lord: being reconciled to
+	the prince your brother, I owe you all duty.
+
+DON JOHN	I thank you: I am not of many words, but I thank
+	you.
+
+LEONATO	Please it your grace lead on?
+
+DON PEDRO	Your hand, Leonato; we will go together.
+
+	[Exeunt all except BENEDICK and CLAUDIO]
+
+CLAUDIO	Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato?
+
+BENEDICK	I noted her not; but I looked on her.
+
+CLAUDIO	Is she not a modest young lady?
+
+BENEDICK	Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for
+	my simple true judgment; or would you have me speak
+	after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex?
+
+CLAUDIO	No; I pray thee speak in sober judgment.
+
+BENEDICK	Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a high
+	praise, too brown for a fair praise and too little
+	for a great praise: only this commendation I can
+	afford her, that were she other than she is, she
+	were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I
+	do not like her.
+
+CLAUDIO	Thou thinkest I am in sport: I pray thee tell me
+	truly how thou likest her.
+
+BENEDICK	Would you buy her, that you inquire after her?
+
+CLAUDIO	Can the world buy such a jewel?
+
+BENEDICK	Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this
+	with a sad brow? or do you play the flouting Jack,
+	to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder and Vulcan a
+	rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a man take
+	you, to go in the song?
+
+CLAUDIO	In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I
+	looked on.
+
+BENEDICK	I can see yet without spectacles and I see no such
+	matter: there's her cousin, an she were not
+	possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty
+	as the first of May doth the last of December. But I
+	hope you have no intent to turn husband, have you?
+
+CLAUDIO	I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the
+	contrary, if Hero would be my wife.
+
+BENEDICK	Is't come to this? In faith, hath not the world
+	one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion?
+	Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score again?
+	Go to, i' faith; an thou wilt needs thrust thy neck
+	into a yoke, wear the print of it and sigh away
+	Sundays. Look Don Pedro is returned to seek you.
+
+	[Re-enter DON PEDRO]
+
+DON PEDRO	What secret hath held you here, that you followed
+	not to Leonato's?
+
+BENEDICK	I would your grace would constrain me to tell.
+
+DON PEDRO	I charge thee on thy allegiance.
+
+BENEDICK	You hear, Count Claudio: I can be secret as a dumb
+	man; I would have you think so; but, on my
+	allegiance, mark you this, on my allegiance. He is
+	in love. With who? now that is your grace's part.
+	Mark how short his answer is;--With Hero, Leonato's
+	short daughter.
+
+CLAUDIO	If this were so, so were it uttered.
+
+BENEDICK	Like the old tale, my lord: 'it is not so, nor
+	'twas not so, but, indeed, God forbid it should be
+	so.'
+
+CLAUDIO	If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it
+	should be otherwise.
+
+DON PEDRO	Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy.
+
+CLAUDIO	You speak this to fetch me in, my lord.
+
+DON PEDRO	By my troth, I speak my thought.
+
+CLAUDIO	And, in faith, my lord, I spoke mine.
+
+BENEDICK	And, by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine.
+
+CLAUDIO	That I love her, I feel.
+
+DON PEDRO	That she is worthy, I know.
+
+BENEDICK	That I neither feel how she should be loved nor
+	know how she should be worthy, is the opinion that
+	fire cannot melt out of me: I will die in it at the stake.
+
+DON PEDRO	Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite
+	of beauty.
+
+CLAUDIO	And never could maintain his part but in the force
+	of his will.
+
+BENEDICK	That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she
+	brought me up, I likewise give her most humble
+	thanks: but that I will have a recheat winded in my
+	forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick,
+	all women shall pardon me. Because I will not do
+	them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the
+	right to trust none; and the fine is, for the which
+	I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor.
+
+DON PEDRO	I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love.
+
+BENEDICK	With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord,
+	not with love: prove that ever I lose more blood
+	with love than I will get again with drinking, pick
+	out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen and hang me
+	up at the door of a brothel-house for the sign of
+	blind Cupid.
+
+DON PEDRO	Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou
+	wilt prove a notable argument.
+
+BENEDICK	If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat and shoot
+	at me; and he that hits me, let him be clapped on
+	the shoulder, and called Adam.
+
+DON PEDRO	Well, as time shall try: 'In time the savage bull
+	doth bear the yoke.'
+
+BENEDICK	The savage bull may; but if ever the sensible
+	Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's horns and set
+	them in my forehead: and let me be vilely painted,
+	and in such great letters as they write 'Here is
+	good horse to hire,' let them signify under my sign
+	'Here you may see Benedick the married man.'
+
+CLAUDIO	If this should ever happen, thou wouldst be horn-mad.
+
+DON PEDRO	Nay, if Cupid have not spent all his quiver in
+	Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly.
+
+BENEDICK	I look for an earthquake too, then.
+
+DON PEDRO	Well, you temporize with the hours. In the
+	meantime, good Signior Benedick, repair to
+	Leonato's: commend me to him and tell him I will
+	not fail him at supper; for indeed he hath made
+	great preparation.
+
+BENEDICK	I have almost matter enough in me for such an
+	embassage; and so I commit you--
+
+CLAUDIO	To the tuition of God: From my house, if I had it,--
+
+DON PEDRO	The sixth of July: Your loving friend, Benedick.
+
+BENEDICK	Nay, mock not, mock not. The body of your
+	discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and
+	the guards are but slightly basted on neither: ere
+	you flout old ends any further, examine your
+	conscience: and so I leave you.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CLAUDIO	My liege, your highness now may do me good.
+
+DON PEDRO	My love is thine to teach: teach it but how,
+	And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn
+	Any hard lesson that may do thee good.
+
+CLAUDIO	Hath Leonato any son, my lord?
+
+DON PEDRO	No child but Hero; she's his only heir.
+	Dost thou affect her, Claudio?
+
+CLAUDIO	O, my lord,
+	When you went onward on this ended action,
+	I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye,
+	That liked, but had a rougher task in hand
+	Than to drive liking to the name of love:
+	But now I am return'd and that war-thoughts
+	Have left their places vacant, in their rooms
+	Come thronging soft and delicate desires,
+	All prompting me how fair young Hero is,
+	Saying, I liked her ere I went to wars.
+
+DON PEDRO	Thou wilt be like a lover presently
+	And tire the hearer with a book of words.
+	If thou dost love fair Hero, cherish it,
+	And I will break with her and with her father,
+	And thou shalt have her. Was't not to this end
+	That thou began'st to twist so fine a story?
+
+CLAUDIO	How sweetly you do minister to love,
+	That know love's grief by his complexion!
+	But lest my liking might too sudden seem,
+	I would have salved it with a longer treatise.
+
+DON PEDRO	What need the bridge much broader than the flood?
+	The fairest grant is the necessity.
+	Look, what will serve is fit: 'tis once, thou lovest,
+	And I will fit thee with the remedy.
+	I know we shall have revelling to-night:
+	I will assume thy part in some disguise
+	And tell fair Hero I am Claudio,
+	And in her bosom I'll unclasp my heart
+	And take her hearing prisoner with the force
+	And strong encounter of my amorous tale:
+	Then after to her father will I break;
+	And the conclusion is, she shall be thine.
+	In practise let us put it presently.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A room in LEONATO's house.
+
+
+	[Enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, meeting]
+
+LEONATO	How now, brother! Where is my cousin, your son?
+	hath he provided this music?
+
+ANTONIO	He is very busy about it. But, brother, I can tell
+	you strange news that you yet dreamt not of.
+
+LEONATO	Are they good?
+
+ANTONIO	As the event stamps them: but they have a good
+	cover; they show well outward. The prince and Count
+	Claudio, walking in a thick-pleached alley in mine
+	orchard, were thus much overheard by a man of mine:
+	the prince discovered to Claudio that he loved my
+	niece your daughter and meant to acknowledge it
+	this night in a dance: and if he found her
+	accordant, he meant to take the present time by the
+	top and instantly break with you of it.
+
+LEONATO	Hath the fellow any wit that told you this?
+
+ANTONIO	A good sharp fellow: I will send for him; and
+	question him yourself.
+
+LEONATO	No, no; we will hold it as a dream till it appear
+	itself: but I will acquaint my daughter withal,
+	that she may be the better prepared for an answer,
+	if peradventure this be true. Go you and tell her of it.
+
+	[Enter Attendants]
+
+	Cousins, you know what you have to do. O, I cry you
+	mercy, friend; go you with me, and I will use your
+	skill. Good cousin, have a care this busy time.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter DON JOHN and CONRADE]
+
+CONRADE	What the good-year, my lord! why are you thus out
+	of measure sad?
+
+DON JOHN	There is no measure in the occasion that breeds;
+	therefore the sadness is without limit.
+
+CONRADE	You should hear reason.
+
+DON JOHN	And when I have heard it, what blessing brings it?
+
+CONRADE	If not a present remedy, at least a patient
+	sufferance.
+
+DON JOHN	I wonder that thou, being, as thou sayest thou art,
+	born under Saturn, goest about to apply a moral
+	medicine to a mortifying mischief. I cannot hide
+	what I am: I must be sad when I have cause and smile
+	at no man's jests, eat when I have stomach and wait
+	for no man's leisure, sleep when I am drowsy and
+	tend on no man's business, laugh when I am merry and
+	claw no man in his humour.
+
+CONRADE	Yea, but you must not make the full show of this
+	till you may do it without controlment. You have of
+	late stood out against your brother, and he hath
+	ta'en you newly into his grace; where it is
+	impossible you should take true root but by the
+	fair weather that you make yourself: it is needful
+	that you frame the season for your own harvest.
+
+DON JOHN	I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in
+	his grace, and it better fits my blood to be
+	disdained of all than to fashion a carriage to rob
+	love from any: in this, though I cannot be said to
+	be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied
+	but I am a plain-dealing villain. I am trusted with
+	a muzzle and enfranchised with a clog; therefore I
+	have decreed not to sing in my cage. If I had my
+	mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do
+	my liking: in the meantime let me be that I am and
+	seek not to alter me.
+
+CONRADE	Can you make no use of your discontent?
+
+DON JOHN	I make all use of it, for I use it only.
+	Who comes here?
+
+	[Enter BORACHIO]
+
+	What news, Borachio?
+
+BORACHIO	I came yonder from a great supper: the prince your
+	brother is royally entertained by Leonato: and I
+	can give you intelligence of an intended marriage.
+
+DON JOHN	Will it serve for any model to build mischief on?
+	What is he for a fool that betroths himself to
+	unquietness?
+
+BORACHIO	Marry, it is your brother's right hand.
+
+DON JOHN	Who? the most exquisite Claudio?
+
+BORACHIO	Even he.
+
+DON JOHN	A proper squire! And who, and who? which way looks
+	he?
+
+BORACHIO	Marry, on Hero, the daughter and heir of Leonato.
+
+DON JOHN	A very forward March-chick! How came you to this?
+
+BORACHIO	Being entertained for a perfumer, as I was smoking a
+	musty room, comes me the prince and Claudio, hand
+	in hand in sad conference: I whipt me behind the
+	arras; and there heard it agreed upon that the
+	prince should woo Hero for himself, and having
+	obtained her, give her to Count Claudio.
+
+DON JOHN	Come, come, let us thither: this may prove food to
+	my displeasure. That young start-up hath all the
+	glory of my overthrow: if I can cross him any way, I
+	bless myself every way. You are both sure, and will assist me?
+
+CONRADE	To the death, my lord.
+
+DON JOHN	Let us to the great supper: their cheer is the
+	greater that I am subdued. Would the cook were of
+	my mind! Shall we go prove what's to be done?
+
+BORACHIO	We'll wait upon your lordship.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A hall in LEONATO'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, HERO, BEATRICE, and others]
+
+
+LEONATO	Was not Count John here at supper?
+
+ANTONIO	I saw him not.
+
+BEATRICE	How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see
+	him but I am heart-burned an hour after.
+
+HERO	He is of a very melancholy disposition.
+
+BEATRICE	He were an excellent man that were made just in the
+	midway between him and Benedick: the one is too
+	like an image and says nothing, and the other too
+	like my lady's eldest son, evermore tattling.
+
+LEONATO	Then half Signior Benedick's tongue in Count John's
+	mouth, and half Count John's melancholy in Signior
+	Benedick's face,--
+
+BEATRICE	With a good leg and a good foot, uncle, and money
+	enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman
+	in the world, if a' could get her good-will.
+
+LEONATO	By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a
+	husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.
+
+ANTONIO	In faith, she's too curst.
+
+BEATRICE	Too curst is more than curst: I shall lessen God's
+	sending that way; for it is said, 'God sends a curst
+	cow short horns;' but to a cow too curst he sends none.
+
+LEONATO	So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns.
+
+BEATRICE	Just, if he send me no husband; for the which
+	blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and
+	evening. Lord, I could not endure a husband with a
+	beard on his face: I had rather lie in the woollen.
+
+LEONATO	You may light on a husband that hath no beard.
+
+BEATRICE	What should I do with him? dress him in my apparel
+	and make him my waiting-gentlewoman? He that hath a
+	beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no
+	beard is less than a man: and he that is more than
+	a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a
+	man, I am not for him: therefore, I will even take
+	sixpence in earnest of the bear-ward, and lead his
+	apes into hell.
+
+LEONATO	Well, then, go you into hell?
+
+BEATRICE	No, but to the gate; and there will the devil meet
+	me, like an old cuckold, with horns on his head, and
+	say 'Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to
+	heaven; here's no place for you maids:' so deliver
+	I up my apes, and away to Saint Peter for the
+	heavens; he shows me where the bachelors sit, and
+	there live we as merry as the day is long.
+
+ANTONIO	[To HERO]  Well, niece, I trust you will be ruled
+	by your father.
+
+BEATRICE	Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy
+	and say 'Father, as it please you.' But yet for all
+	that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else
+	make another curtsy and say 'Father, as it please
+	me.'
+
+LEONATO	Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.
+
+BEATRICE	Not till God make men of some other metal than
+	earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be
+	overmastered with a pierce of valiant dust? to make
+	an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl?
+	No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren;
+	and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred.
+
+LEONATO	Daughter, remember what I told you: if the prince
+	do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer.
+
+BEATRICE	The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be
+	not wooed in good time: if the prince be too
+	important, tell him there is measure in every thing
+	and so dance out the answer. For, hear me, Hero:
+	wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig,
+	a measure, and a cinque pace: the first suit is hot
+	and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as
+	fantastical; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a
+	measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes
+	repentance and, with his bad legs, falls into the
+	cinque pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.
+
+LEONATO	Cousin, you apprehend passing shrewdly.
+
+BEATRICE	I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by daylight.
+
+LEONATO	The revellers are entering, brother: make good room.
+
+	[All put on their masks]
+
+	[Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, BALTHASAR,
+	DON JOHN, BORACHIO, MARGARET, URSULA and others, masked]
+
+DON PEDRO	Lady, will you walk about with your friend?
+
+HERO	So you walk softly and look sweetly and say nothing,
+	I am yours for the walk; and especially when I walk away.
+
+DON PEDRO	With me in your company?
+
+HERO	I may say so, when I please.
+
+DON PEDRO	And when please you to say so?
+
+HERO	When I like your favour; for God defend the lute
+	should be like the case!
+
+DON PEDRO	My visor is Philemon's roof; within the house is Jove.
+
+HERO	Why, then, your visor should be thatched.
+
+DON PEDRO	Speak low, if you speak love.
+
+	[Drawing her aside]
+
+BALTHASAR	Well, I would you did like me.
+
+MARGARET	So would not I, for your own sake; for I have many
+	ill-qualities.
+
+BALTHASAR	Which is one?
+
+MARGARET	I say my prayers aloud.
+
+BALTHASAR	I love you the better: the hearers may cry, Amen.
+
+MARGARET	God match me with a good dancer!
+
+BALTHASAR	Amen.
+
+MARGARET	And God keep him out of my sight when the dance is
+	done! Answer, clerk.
+
+BALTHASAR	No more words: the clerk is answered.
+
+URSULA	I know you well enough; you are Signior Antonio.
+
+ANTONIO	At a word, I am not.
+
+URSULA	I know you by the waggling of your head.
+
+ANTONIO	To tell you true, I counterfeit him.
+
+URSULA	You could never do him so ill-well, unless you were
+	the very man. Here's his dry hand up and down: you
+	are he, you are he.
+
+ANTONIO	At a word, I am not.
+
+URSULA	Come, come, do you think I do not know you by your
+	excellent wit? can virtue hide itself? Go to,
+	mum, you are he: graces will appear, and there's an
+	end.
+
+BEATRICE	Will you not tell me who told you so?
+
+BENEDICK	No, you shall pardon me.
+
+BEATRICE	Nor will you not tell me who you are?
+
+BENEDICK	Not now.
+
+BEATRICE	That I was disdainful, and that I had my good wit
+	out of the 'Hundred Merry Tales:'--well this was
+	Signior Benedick that said so.
+
+BENEDICK	What's he?
+
+BEATRICE	I am sure you know him well enough.
+
+BENEDICK	Not I, believe me.
+
+BEATRICE	Did he never make you laugh?
+
+BENEDICK	I pray you, what is he?
+
+BEATRICE	Why, he is the prince's jester: a very dull fool;
+	only his gift is in devising impossible slanders:
+	none but libertines delight in him; and the
+	commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany;
+	for he both pleases men and angers them, and then
+	they laugh at him and beat him. I am sure he is in
+	the fleet: I would he had boarded me.
+
+BENEDICK	When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you say.
+
+BEATRICE	Do, do: he'll but break a comparison or two on me;
+	which, peradventure not marked or not laughed at,
+	strikes him into melancholy; and then there's a
+	partridge wing saved, for the fool will eat no
+	supper that night.
+
+	[Music]
+
+	We must follow the leaders.
+
+BENEDICK	In every good thing.
+
+BEATRICE	Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at
+	the next turning.
+
+	[Dance. Then exeunt all except DON JOHN, BORACHIO,
+	and CLAUDIO]
+
+DON JOHN	Sure my brother is amorous on Hero and hath
+	withdrawn her father to break with him about it.
+	The ladies follow her and but one visor remains.
+
+BORACHIO	And that is Claudio: I know him by his bearing.
+
+DON JOHN	Are not you Signior Benedick?
+
+CLAUDIO	You know me well; I am he.
+
+DON JOHN	Signior, you are very near my brother in his love:
+	he is enamoured on Hero; I pray you, dissuade him
+	from her: she is no equal for his birth: you may
+	do the part of an honest man in it.
+
+CLAUDIO	How know you he loves her?
+
+DON JOHN	I heard him swear his affection.
+
+BORACHIO	So did I too; and he swore he would marry her to-night.
+
+DON JOHN	Come, let us to the banquet.
+
+	[Exeunt DON JOHN and BORACHIO]
+
+CLAUDIO	Thus answer I in the name of Benedick,
+	But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio.
+	'Tis certain so; the prince wooes for himself.
+	Friendship is constant in all other things
+	Save in the office and affairs of love:
+	Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues;
+	Let every eye negotiate for itself
+	And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch
+	Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
+	This is an accident of hourly proof,
+	Which I mistrusted not. Farewell, therefore, Hero!
+
+	[Re-enter BENEDICK]
+
+BENEDICK	Count Claudio?
+
+CLAUDIO	Yea, the same.
+
+BENEDICK	Come, will you go with me?
+
+CLAUDIO	Whither?
+
+BENEDICK	Even to the next willow, about your own business,
+	county. What fashion will you wear the garland of?
+	about your neck, like an usurer's chain? or under
+	your arm, like a lieutenant's scarf? You must wear
+	it one way, for the prince hath got your Hero.
+
+CLAUDIO	I wish him joy of her.
+
+BENEDICK	Why, that's spoken like an honest drovier: so they
+	sell bullocks. But did you think the prince would
+	have served you thus?
+
+CLAUDIO	I pray you, leave me.
+
+BENEDICK	Ho! now you strike like the blind man: 'twas the
+	boy that stole your meat, and you'll beat the post.
+
+CLAUDIO	If it will not be, I'll leave you.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BENEDICK	Alas, poor hurt fowl! now will he creep into sedges.
+	But that my Lady Beatrice should know me, and not
+	know me! The prince's fool! Ha? It may be I go
+	under that title because I am merry. Yea, but so I
+	am apt to do myself wrong; I am not so reputed: it
+	is the base, though bitter, disposition of Beatrice
+	that puts the world into her person and so gives me
+	out. Well, I'll be revenged as I may.
+
+	[Re-enter DON PEDRO]
+
+DON PEDRO	Now, signior, where's the count? did you see him?
+
+BENEDICK	Troth, my lord, I have played the part of Lady Fame.
+	I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a
+	warren: I told him, and I think I told him true,
+	that your grace had got the good will of this young
+	lady; and I offered him my company to a willow-tree,
+	either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or
+	to bind him up a rod, as being worthy to be whipped.
+
+DON PEDRO	To be whipped! What's his fault?
+
+BENEDICK	The flat transgression of a schoolboy, who, being
+	overjoyed with finding a birds' nest, shows it his
+	companion, and he steals it.
+
+DON PEDRO	Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The
+	transgression is in the stealer.
+
+BENEDICK	Yet it had not been amiss the rod had been made,
+	and the garland too; for the garland he might have
+	worn himself, and the rod he might have bestowed on
+	you, who, as I take it, have stolen his birds' nest.
+
+DON PEDRO	I will but teach them to sing, and restore them to
+	the owner.
+
+BENEDICK	If their singing answer your saying, by my faith,
+	you say honestly.
+
+DON PEDRO	The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you: the
+	gentleman that danced with her told her she is much
+	wronged by you.
+
+BENEDICK	O, she misused me past the endurance of a block!
+	an oak but with one green leaf on it would have
+	answered her; my very visor began to assume life and
+	scold with her. She told me, not thinking I had been
+	myself, that I was the prince's jester, that I was
+	duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest
+	with such impossible conveyance upon me that I stood
+	like a man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at
+	me. She speaks poniards, and every word stabs:
+	if her breath were as terrible as her terminations,
+	there were no living near her; she would infect to
+	the north star. I would not marry her, though she
+	were endowed with all that Adam bad left him before
+	he transgressed: she would have made Hercules have
+	turned spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make
+	the fire too. Come, talk not of her: you shall find
+	her the infernal Ate in good apparel. I would to God
+	some scholar would conjure her; for certainly, while
+	she is here, a man may live as quiet in hell as in a
+	sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose, because they
+	would go thither; so, indeed, all disquiet, horror
+	and perturbation follows her.
+
+DON PEDRO	Look, here she comes.
+
+	[Enter CLAUDIO, BEATRICE, HERO, and LEONATO]
+
+BENEDICK	Will your grace command me any service to the
+	world's end? I will go on the slightest errand now
+	to the Antipodes that you can devise to send me on;
+	I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the
+	furthest inch of Asia, bring you the length of
+	Prester John's foot, fetch you a hair off the great
+	Cham's beard, do you any embassage to the Pigmies,
+	rather than hold three words' conference with this
+	harpy. You have no employment for me?
+
+DON PEDRO	None, but to desire your good company.
+
+BENEDICK	O God, sir, here's a dish I love not: I cannot
+	endure my Lady Tongue.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DON PEDRO	Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of
+	Signior Benedick.
+
+BEATRICE	Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; and I gave
+	him use for it, a double heart for his single one:
+	marry, once before he won it of me with false dice,
+	therefore your grace may well say I have lost it.
+
+DON PEDRO	You have put him down, lady, you have put him down.
+
+BEATRICE	So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I
+	should prove the mother of fools. I have brought
+	Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek.
+
+DON PEDRO	Why, how now, count! wherefore are you sad?
+
+CLAUDIO	Not sad, my lord.
+
+DON PEDRO	How then? sick?
+
+CLAUDIO	Neither, my lord.
+
+BEATRICE	The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor
+	well; but civil count, civil as an orange, and
+	something of that jealous complexion.
+
+DON PEDRO	I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true;
+	though, I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is
+	false. Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and
+	fair Hero is won: I have broke with her father,
+	and his good will obtained: name the day of
+	marriage, and God give thee joy!
+
+LEONATO	Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my
+	fortunes: his grace hath made the match, and an
+	grace say Amen to it.
+
+BEATRICE	Speak, count, 'tis your cue.
+
+CLAUDIO	Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were
+	but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as
+	you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for
+	you and dote upon the exchange.
+
+BEATRICE	Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth
+	with a kiss, and let not him speak neither.
+
+DON PEDRO	In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.
+
+BEATRICE	Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on
+	the windy side of care. My cousin tells him in his
+	ear that he is in her heart.
+
+CLAUDIO	And so she doth, cousin.
+
+BEATRICE	Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the
+	world but I, and I am sunburnt; I may sit in a
+	corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband!
+
+DON PEDRO	Lady Beatrice, I will get you one.
+
+BEATRICE	I would rather have one of your father's getting.
+	Hath your grace ne'er a brother like you? Your
+	father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them.
+
+DON PEDRO	Will you have me, lady?
+
+BEATRICE	No, my lord, unless I might have another for
+	working-days: your grace is too costly to wear
+	every day. But, I beseech your grace, pardon me: I
+	was born to speak all mirth and no matter.
+
+DON PEDRO	Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best
+	becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in
+	a merry hour.
+
+BEATRICE	No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there
+	was a star danced, and under that was I born.
+	Cousins, God give you joy!
+
+LEONATO	Niece, will you look to those things I told you of?
+
+BEATRICE	I cry you mercy, uncle. By your grace's pardon.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DON PEDRO	By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady.
+
+LEONATO	There's little of the melancholy element in her, my
+	lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps, and
+	not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say,
+	she hath often dreamed of unhappiness and waked
+	herself with laughing.
+
+DON PEDRO	She cannot endure to hear tell of a husband.
+
+LEONATO	O, by no means: she mocks all her wooers out of suit.
+
+DON PEDRO	She were an excellent wife for Benedict.
+
+LEONATO	O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married,
+	they would talk themselves mad.
+
+DON PEDRO	County Claudio, when mean you to go to church?
+
+CLAUDIO	To-morrow, my lord: time goes on crutches till love
+	have all his rites.
+
+LEONATO	Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just
+	seven-night; and a time too brief, too, to have all
+	things answer my mind.
+
+DON PEDRO	Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing:
+	but, I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go
+	dully by us. I will in the interim undertake one of
+	Hercules' labours; which is, to bring Signior
+	Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of
+	affection the one with the other. I would fain have
+	it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it, if
+	you three will but minister such assistance as I
+	shall give you direction.
+
+LEONATO	My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten
+	nights' watchings.
+
+CLAUDIO	And I, my lord.
+
+DON PEDRO	And you too, gentle Hero?
+
+HERO	I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my
+	cousin to a good husband.
+
+DON PEDRO	And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that
+	I know. Thus far can I praise him; he is of a noble
+	strain, of approved valour and confirmed honesty. I
+	will teach you how to humour your cousin, that she
+	shall fall in love with Benedick; and I, with your
+	two helps, will so practise on Benedick that, in
+	despite of his quick wit and his queasy stomach, he
+	shall fall in love with Beatrice. If we can do this,
+	Cupid is no longer an archer: his glory shall be
+	ours, for we are the only love-gods. Go in with me,
+	and I will tell you my drift.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter DON JOHN and BORACHIO]
+
+DON JOHN	It is so; the Count Claudio shall marry the
+	daughter of Leonato.
+
+BORACHIO	Yea, my lord; but I can cross it.
+
+DON JOHN	Any bar, any cross, any impediment will be
+	medicinable to me: I am sick in displeasure to him,
+	and whatsoever comes athwart his affection ranges
+	evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this marriage?
+
+BORACHIO	Not honestly, my lord; but so covertly that no
+	dishonesty shall appear in me.
+
+DON JOHN	Show me briefly how.
+
+BORACHIO	I think I told your lordship a year since, how much
+	I am in the favour of Margaret, the waiting
+	gentlewoman to Hero.
+
+DON JOHN	I remember.
+
+BORACHIO	I can, at any unseasonable instant of the night,
+	appoint her to look out at her lady's chamber window.
+
+DON JOHN	What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage?
+
+BORACHIO	The poison of that lies in you to temper. Go you to
+	the prince your brother; spare not to tell him that
+	he hath wronged his honour in marrying the renowned
+	Claudio--whose estimation do you mightily hold
+	up--to a contaminated stale, such a one as Hero.
+
+DON JOHN	What proof shall I make of that?
+
+BORACHIO	Proof enough to misuse the prince, to vex Claudio,
+	to undo Hero and kill Leonato. Look you for any
+	other issue?
+
+DON JOHN	Only to despite them, I will endeavour any thing.
+
+BORACHIO	Go, then; find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and
+	the Count Claudio alone: tell them that you know
+	that Hero loves me; intend a kind of zeal both to the
+	prince and Claudio, as,--in love of your brother's
+	honour, who hath made this match, and his friend's
+	reputation, who is thus like to be cozened with the
+	semblance of a maid,--that you have discovered
+	thus. They will scarcely believe this without trial:
+	offer them instances; which shall bear no less
+	likelihood than to see me at her chamber-window,
+	hear me call Margaret Hero, hear Margaret term me
+	Claudio; and bring them to see this the very night
+	before the intended wedding,--for in the meantime I
+	will so fashion the matter that Hero shall be
+	absent,--and there shall appear such seeming truth
+	of Hero's disloyalty that jealousy shall be called
+	assurance and all the preparation overthrown.
+
+DON JOHN	Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put
+	it in practise. Be cunning in the working this, and
+	thy fee is a thousand ducats.
+
+BORACHIO	Be you constant in the accusation, and my cunning
+	shall not shame me.
+
+DON JOHN	I will presently go learn their day of marriage.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	LEONATO'S orchard.
+
+
+	[Enter BENEDICK]
+
+BENEDICK	Boy!
+
+	[Enter Boy]
+
+Boy	Signior?
+
+BENEDICK	In my chamber-window lies a book: bring it hither
+	to me in the orchard.
+
+Boy	I am here already, sir.
+
+BENEDICK	I know that; but I would have thee hence, and here again.
+
+	[Exit Boy]
+
+	I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much
+	another man is a fool when he dedicates his
+	behaviors to love, will, after he hath laughed at
+	such shallow follies in others, become the argument
+	of his own scorn by failing in love: and such a man
+	is Claudio. I have known when there was no music
+	with him but the drum and the fife; and now had he
+	rather hear the tabour and the pipe: I have known
+	when he would have walked ten mile a-foot to see a
+	good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake,
+	carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to
+	speak plain and to the purpose, like an honest man
+	and a soldier; and now is he turned orthography; his
+	words are a very fantastical banquet, just so many
+	strange dishes. May I be so converted and see with
+	these eyes? I cannot tell; I think not: I will not
+	be sworn, but love may transform me to an oyster; but
+	I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster
+	of me, he shall never make me such a fool. One woman
+	is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet I am
+	well; another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all
+	graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in
+	my grace. Rich she shall be, that's certain; wise,
+	or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her;
+	fair, or I'll   never look on her; mild, or come not
+	near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good
+	discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair shall
+	be of what colour it please God. Ha! the prince and
+	Monsieur Love! I will hide me in the arbour.
+
+	[Withdraws]
+
+	[Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and LEONATO]
+
+DON PEDRO	Come, shall we hear this music?
+
+CLAUDIO	Yea, my good lord. How still the evening is,
+	As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony!
+
+DON PEDRO	See you where Benedick hath hid himself?
+
+CLAUDIO	O, very well, my lord: the music ended,
+	We'll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth.
+
+	[Enter BALTHASAR with Music]
+
+DON PEDRO	Come, Balthasar, we'll hear that song again.
+
+BALTHASAR	O, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice
+	To slander music any more than once.
+
+DON PEDRO	It is the witness still of excellency
+	To put a strange face on his own perfection.
+	I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more.
+
+BALTHASAR	Because you talk of wooing, I will sing;
+	Since many a wooer doth commence his suit
+	To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes,
+	Yet will he swear he loves.
+
+DON PEDRO	Now, pray thee, come;
+	Or, if thou wilt hold longer argument,
+	Do it in notes.
+
+BALTHASAR	                  Note this before my notes;
+	There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.
+
+DON PEDRO	Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks;
+	Note, notes, forsooth, and nothing.
+	[Air]
+
+BENEDICK	Now, divine air! now is his soul ravished! Is it
+	not strange that sheeps' guts should hale souls out
+	of men's bodies? Well, a horn for my money, when
+	all's done.
+
+	[The Song]
+
+BALTHASAR	     Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
+	Men were deceivers ever,
+	One foot in sea and one on shore,
+	To one thing constant never:
+	Then sigh not so, but let them go,
+	And be you blithe and bonny,
+	Converting all your sounds of woe
+	Into Hey nonny, nonny.
+
+	Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
+	Of dumps so dull and heavy;
+	The fraud of men was ever so,
+	Since summer first was leafy:
+	Then sigh not so, &c.
+
+DON PEDRO	By my troth, a good song.
+
+BALTHASAR	And an ill singer, my lord.
+
+DON PEDRO	Ha, no, no, faith; thou singest well enough for a shift.
+
+BENEDICK	An he had been a dog that should have howled thus,
+	they would have hanged him: and I pray God his bad
+	voice bode no mischief. I had as lief have heard the
+	night-raven, come what plague could have come after
+	it.
+
+DON PEDRO	Yea, marry, dost thou hear, Balthasar? I pray thee,
+	get us some excellent music; for to-morrow night we
+	would have it at the Lady Hero's chamber-window.
+
+BALTHASAR	The best I can, my lord.
+
+DON PEDRO	Do so: farewell.
+
+	[Exit BALTHASAR]
+
+	Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of
+	to-day, that your niece Beatrice was in love with
+	Signior Benedick?
+
+CLAUDIO	O, ay: stalk on. stalk on; the fowl sits. I did
+	never think that lady would have loved any man.
+
+LEONATO	No, nor I neither; but most wonderful that she
+	should so dote on Signior Benedick, whom she hath in
+	all outward behaviors seemed ever to abhor.
+
+BENEDICK	Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner?
+
+LEONATO	By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think
+	of it but that she loves him with an enraged
+	affection: it is past the infinite of thought.
+
+DON PEDRO	May be she doth but counterfeit.
+
+CLAUDIO	Faith, like enough.
+
+LEONATO	O God, counterfeit! There was never counterfeit of
+	passion came so near the life of passion as she
+	discovers it.
+
+DON PEDRO	Why, what effects of passion shows she?
+
+CLAUDIO	Bait the hook well; this fish will bite.
+
+LEONATO	What effects, my lord? She will sit you, you heard
+	my daughter tell you how.
+
+CLAUDIO	She did, indeed.
+
+DON PEDRO	How, how, pray you? You amaze me: I would have I
+	thought her spirit had been invincible against all
+	assaults of affection.
+
+LEONATO	I would have sworn it had, my lord; especially
+	against Benedick.
+
+BENEDICK	I should think this a gull, but that the
+	white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot,
+	sure, hide himself in such reverence.
+
+CLAUDIO	He hath ta'en the infection: hold it up.
+
+DON PEDRO	Hath she made her affection known to Benedick?
+
+LEONATO	No; and swears she never will: that's her torment.
+
+CLAUDIO	'Tis true, indeed; so your daughter says: 'Shall
+	I,' says she, 'that have so oft encountered him
+	with scorn, write to him that I love him?'
+
+LEONATO	This says she now when she is beginning to write to
+	him; for she'll be up twenty times a night, and
+	there will she sit in her smock till she have writ a
+	sheet of paper: my daughter tells us all.
+
+CLAUDIO	Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a
+	pretty jest your daughter told us of.
+
+LEONATO	O, when she had writ it and was reading it over, she
+	found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet?
+
+CLAUDIO	That.
+
+LEONATO	O, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence;
+	railed at herself, that she should be so immodest
+	to write to one that she knew would flout her; 'I
+	measure him,' says she, 'by my own spirit; for I
+	should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, though I
+	love him, I should.'
+
+CLAUDIO	Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs,
+	beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses; 'O
+	sweet Benedick! God give me patience!'
+
+LEONATO	She doth indeed; my daughter says so: and the
+	ecstasy hath so much overborne her that my daughter
+	is sometime afeared she will do a desperate outrage
+	to herself: it is very true.
+
+DON PEDRO	It were good that Benedick knew of it by some
+	other, if she will not discover it.
+
+CLAUDIO	To what end? He would make but a sport of it and
+	torment the poor lady worse.
+
+DON PEDRO	An he should, it were an alms to hang him. She's an
+	excellent sweet lady; and, out of all suspicion,
+	she is virtuous.
+
+CLAUDIO	And she is exceeding wise.
+
+DON PEDRO	In every thing but in loving Benedick.
+
+LEONATO	O, my lord, wisdom and blood combating in so tender
+	a body, we have ten proofs to one that blood hath
+	the victory. I am sorry for her, as I have just
+	cause, being her uncle and her guardian.
+
+DON PEDRO	I would she had bestowed this dotage on me: I would
+	have daffed all other respects and made her half
+	myself. I pray you, tell Benedick of it, and hear
+	what a' will say.
+
+LEONATO	Were it good, think you?
+
+CLAUDIO	Hero thinks surely she will die; for she says she
+	will die, if he love her not, and she will die, ere
+	she make her love known, and she will die, if he woo
+	her, rather than she will bate one breath of her
+	accustomed crossness.
+
+DON PEDRO	She doth well: if she should make tender of her
+	love, 'tis very possible he'll scorn it; for the
+	man, as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit.
+
+CLAUDIO	He is a very proper man.
+
+DON PEDRO	He hath indeed a good outward happiness.
+
+CLAUDIO	Before God! and, in my mind, very wise.
+
+DON PEDRO	He doth indeed show some sparks that are like wit.
+
+CLAUDIO	And I take him to be valiant.
+
+DON PEDRO	As Hector, I assure you: and in the managing of
+	quarrels you may say he is wise; for either he
+	avoids them with great discretion, or undertakes
+	them with a most Christian-like fear.
+
+LEONATO	If he do fear God, a' must necessarily keep peace:
+	if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a
+	quarrel with fear and trembling.
+
+DON PEDRO	And so will he do; for the man doth fear God,
+	howsoever it seems not in him by some large jests
+	he will make. Well I am sorry for your niece. Shall
+	we go seek Benedick, and tell him of her love?
+
+CLAUDIO	Never tell him, my lord: let her wear it out with
+	good counsel.
+
+LEONATO	Nay, that's impossible: she may wear her heart out first.
+
+DON PEDRO	Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter:
+	let it cool the while. I love Benedick well; and I
+	could wish he would modestly examine himself, to see
+	how much he is unworthy so good a lady.
+
+LEONATO	My lord, will you walk? dinner is ready.
+
+CLAUDIO	If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never
+	trust my expectation.
+
+DON PEDRO	Let there be the same net spread for her; and that
+	must your daughter and her gentlewomen carry. The
+	sport will be, when they hold one an opinion of
+	another's dotage, and no such matter: that's the
+	scene that I would see, which will be merely a
+	dumb-show. Let us send her to call him in to dinner.
+
+	[Exeunt DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and LEONATO]
+
+BENEDICK	[Coming forward]  This can be no trick: the
+	conference was sadly borne. They have the truth of
+	this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady: it
+	seems her affections have their full bent. Love me!
+	why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured:
+	they say I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive
+	the love come from her; they say too that she will
+	rather die than give any sign of affection. I did
+	never think to marry: I must not seem proud: happy
+	are they that hear their detractions and can put
+	them to mending. They say the lady is fair; 'tis a
+	truth, I can bear them witness; and virtuous; 'tis
+	so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, but for loving
+	me; by my troth, it is no addition to her wit, nor
+	no great argument of her folly, for I will be
+	horribly in love with her. I may chance have some
+	odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me,
+	because I have railed so long against marriage: but
+	doth not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat
+	in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.
+	Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of
+	the brain awe a man from the career of his humour?
+	No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would
+	die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I
+	were married. Here comes Beatrice. By this day!
+	she's a fair lady: I do spy some marks of love in
+	her.
+
+	[Enter BEATRICE]
+
+BEATRICE	Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.
+
+BENEDICK	Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.
+
+BEATRICE	I took no more pains for those thanks than you take
+	pains to thank me: if it had been painful, I would
+	not have come.
+
+BENEDICK	You take pleasure then in the message?
+
+BEATRICE	Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's
+	point and choke a daw withal. You have no stomach,
+	signior: fare you well.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BENEDICK	Ha! 'Against my will I am sent to bid you come in
+	to dinner;' there's a double meaning in that 'I took
+	no more pains for those thanks than you took pains
+	to thank me.' that's as much as to say, Any pains
+	that I take for you is as easy as thanks. If I do
+	not take pity of her, I am a villain; if I do not
+	love her, I am a Jew. I will go get her picture.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	LEONATO'S garden.
+
+
+	[Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULA]
+
+HERO	Good Margaret, run thee to the parlor;
+	There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice
+	Proposing with the prince and Claudio:
+	Whisper her ear and tell her, I and Ursula
+	Walk in the orchard and our whole discourse
+	Is all of her; say that thou overheard'st us;
+	And bid her steal into the pleached bower,
+	Where honeysuckles, ripen'd by the sun,
+	Forbid the sun to enter, like favourites,
+	Made proud by princes, that advance their pride
+	Against that power that bred it: there will she hide her,
+	To listen our purpose.  This is thy office;
+	Bear thee well in it and leave us alone.
+
+MARGARET	I'll make her come, I warrant you, presently.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HERO	Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth come,
+	As we do trace this alley up and down,
+	Our talk must only be of Benedick.
+	When I do name him, let it be thy part
+	To praise him more than ever man did merit:
+	My talk to thee must be how Benedick
+	Is sick in love with Beatrice. Of this matter
+	Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made,
+	That only wounds by hearsay.
+
+	[Enter BEATRICE, behind]
+
+		       Now begin;
+	For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs
+	Close by the ground, to hear our conference.
+
+URSULA	The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish
+	Cut with her golden oars the silver stream,
+	And greedily devour the treacherous bait:
+	So angle we for Beatrice; who even now
+	Is couched in the woodbine coverture.
+	Fear you not my part of the dialogue.
+
+HERO	Then go we near her, that her ear lose nothing
+	Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.
+
+	[Approaching the bower]
+
+	No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful;
+	I know her spirits are as coy and wild
+	As haggerds of the rock.
+
+URSULA	But are you sure
+	That Benedick loves Beatrice so entirely?
+
+HERO	So says the prince and my new-trothed lord.
+
+URSULA	And did they bid you tell her of it, madam?
+
+HERO	They did entreat me to acquaint her of it;
+	But I persuaded them, if they loved Benedick,
+	To wish him wrestle with affection,
+	And never to let Beatrice know of it.
+
+URSULA	Why did you so? Doth not the gentleman
+	Deserve as full as fortunate a bed
+	As ever Beatrice shall couch upon?
+
+HERO	O god of love! I know he doth deserve
+	As much as may be yielded to a man:
+	But Nature never framed a woman's heart
+	Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice;
+	Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
+	Misprising what they look on, and her wit
+	Values itself so highly that to her
+	All matter else seems weak: she cannot love,
+	Nor take no shape nor project of affection,
+	She is so self-endeared.
+
+URSULA	Sure, I think so;
+	And therefore certainly it were not good
+	She knew his love, lest she make sport at it.
+
+HERO	Why, you speak truth. I never yet saw man,
+	How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured,
+	But she would spell him backward: if fair-faced,
+	She would swear the gentleman should be her sister;
+	If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antique,
+	Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed;
+	If low, an agate very vilely cut;
+	If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds;
+	If silent, why, a block moved with none.
+	So turns she every man the wrong side out
+	And never gives to truth and virtue that
+	Which simpleness and merit purchaseth.
+
+URSULA	Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.
+
+HERO	No, not to be so odd and from all fashions
+	As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable:
+	But who dare tell her so? If I should speak,
+	She would mock me into air; O, she would laugh me
+	Out of myself, press me to death with wit.
+	Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
+	Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly:
+	It were a better death than die with mocks,
+	Which is as bad as die with tickling.
+
+URSULA	Yet tell her of it: hear what she will say.
+
+HERO	No; rather I will go to Benedick
+	And counsel him to fight against his passion.
+	And, truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
+	To stain my cousin with: one doth not know
+	How much an ill word may empoison liking.
+
+URSULA	O, do not do your cousin such a wrong.
+	She cannot be so much without true judgment--
+	Having so swift and excellent a wit
+	As she is prized to have--as to refuse
+	So rare a gentleman as Signior Benedick.
+
+HERO	He is the only man of Italy.
+	Always excepted my dear Claudio.
+
+URSULA	I pray you, be not angry with me, madam,
+	Speaking my fancy: Signior Benedick,
+	For shape, for bearing, argument and valour,
+	Goes foremost in report through Italy.
+
+HERO	Indeed, he hath an excellent good name.
+
+URSULA	His excellence did earn it, ere he had it.
+	When are you married, madam?
+
+HERO	Why, every day, to-morrow. Come, go in:
+	I'll show thee some attires, and have thy counsel
+	Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow.
+
+URSULA	She's limed, I warrant you: we have caught her, madam.
+
+HERO	If it proves so, then loving goes by haps:
+	Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.
+
+	[Exeunt HERO and URSULA]
+
+BEATRICE	[Coming forward]
+	What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true?
+	Stand I condemn'd for pride and scorn so much?
+	Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu!
+	No glory lives behind the back of such.
+	And, Benedick, love on; I will requite thee,
+	Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand:
+	If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee
+	To bind our loves up in a holy band;
+	For others say thou dost deserve, and I
+	Believe it better than reportingly.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A room in LEONATO'S house
+
+
+	[Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, and LEONATO]
+
+DON PEDRO	I do but stay till your marriage be consummate, and
+	then go I toward Arragon.
+
+CLAUDIO	I'll bring you thither, my lord, if you'll
+	vouchsafe me.
+
+DON PEDRO	Nay, that would be as great a soil in the new gloss
+	of your marriage as to show a child his new coat
+	and forbid him to wear it. I will only be bold
+	with Benedick for his company; for, from the crown
+	of his head to the sole of his foot, he is all
+	mirth: he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's
+	bow-string and the little hangman dare not shoot at
+	him; he hath a heart as sound as a bell and his
+	tongue is the clapper, for what his heart thinks his
+	tongue speaks.
+
+BENEDICK	Gallants, I am not as I have been.
+
+LEONATO	So say I	methinks you are sadder.
+
+CLAUDIO	I hope he be in love.
+
+DON PEDRO	Hang him, truant! there's no true drop of blood in
+	him, to be truly touched with love: if he be sad,
+	he wants money.
+
+BENEDICK	I have the toothache.
+
+DON PEDRO	Draw it.
+
+BENEDICK	Hang it!
+
+CLAUDIO	You must hang it first, and draw it afterwards.
+
+DON PEDRO	What! sigh for the toothache?
+
+LEONATO	Where is but a humour or a worm.
+
+BENEDICK	Well, every one can master a grief but he that has
+	it.
+
+CLAUDIO	Yet say I, he is in love.
+
+DON PEDRO	There is no appearance of fancy in him, unless it be
+	a fancy that he hath to strange disguises; as, to be
+	a Dutchman today, a Frenchman to-morrow, or in the
+	shape of two countries at once, as, a German from
+	the waist downward, all slops, and a Spaniard from
+	the hip upward, no doublet. Unless he have a fancy
+	to this foolery, as it appears he hath, he is no
+	fool for fancy, as you would have it appear he is.
+
+CLAUDIO	If he be not in love with some woman, there is no
+	believing old signs: a' brushes his hat o'
+	mornings; what should that bode?
+
+DON PEDRO	Hath any man seen him at the barber's?
+
+CLAUDIO	No, but the barber's man hath been seen with him,
+	and the old ornament of his cheek hath already
+	stuffed tennis-balls.
+
+LEONATO	Indeed, he looks younger than he did, by the loss of a beard.
+
+DON PEDRO	Nay, a' rubs himself with civet: can you smell him
+	out by that?
+
+CLAUDIO	That's as much as to say, the sweet youth's in love.
+
+DON PEDRO	The greatest note of it is his melancholy.
+
+CLAUDIO	And when was he wont to wash his face?
+
+DON PEDRO	Yea, or to paint himself? for the which, I hear
+	what they say of him.
+
+CLAUDIO	Nay, but his jesting spirit; which is now crept into
+	a lute-string and now governed by stops.
+
+DON PEDRO	Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him: conclude,
+	conclude he is in love.
+
+CLAUDIO	Nay, but I know who loves him.
+
+DON PEDRO	That would I know too: I warrant, one that knows him not.
+
+CLAUDIO	Yes, and his ill conditions; and, in despite of
+	all, dies for him.
+
+DON PEDRO	She shall be buried with her face upwards.
+
+BENEDICK	Yet is this no charm for the toothache. Old
+	signior, walk aside with me: I have studied eight
+	or nine wise words to speak to you, which these
+	hobby-horses must not hear.
+
+	[Exeunt BENEDICK and LEONATO]
+
+DON PEDRO	For my life, to break with him about Beatrice.
+
+CLAUDIO	'Tis even so. Hero and Margaret have by this
+	played their parts with Beatrice; and then the two
+	bears will not bite one another when they meet.
+
+	[Enter DON JOHN]
+
+DON JOHN	My lord and brother, God save you!
+
+DON PEDRO	Good den, brother.
+
+DON JOHN	If your leisure served, I would speak with you.
+
+DON PEDRO	In private?
+
+DON JOHN	If it please you: yet Count Claudio may hear; for
+	what I would speak of concerns him.
+
+DON PEDRO	What's the matter?
+
+DON JOHN	[To CLAUDIO]  Means your lordship to be married
+	to-morrow?
+
+DON PEDRO	You know he does.
+
+DON JOHN	I know not that, when he knows what I know.
+
+CLAUDIO	If there be any impediment, I pray you discover it.
+
+DON JOHN	You may think I love you not: let that appear
+	hereafter, and aim better at me by that I now will
+	manifest. For my brother, I think he holds you
+	well, and in dearness of heart hath holp to effect
+	your ensuing marriage;--surely suit ill spent and
+	labour ill bestowed.
+
+DON PEDRO	Why, what's the matter?
+
+DON JOHN	I came hither to tell you; and, circumstances
+	shortened, for she has been too long a talking of,
+	the lady is disloyal.
+
+CLAUDIO	Who, Hero?
+
+DON PEDRO	Even she; Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero:
+
+CLAUDIO	Disloyal?
+
+DON JOHN	The word is too good to paint out her wickedness; I
+	could say she were worse: think you of a worse
+	title, and I will fit her to it. Wonder not till
+	further warrant: go but with me to-night, you shall
+	see her chamber-window entered, even the night
+	before her wedding-day: if you love her then,
+	to-morrow wed her; but it would better fit your honour
+	to change your mind.
+
+CLAUDIO	May this be so?
+
+DON PEDRO	I will not think it.
+
+DON JOHN	If you dare not trust that you see, confess not
+	that you know: if you will follow me, I will show
+	you enough; and when you have seen more and heard
+	more, proceed accordingly.
+
+CLAUDIO	If I see any thing to-night why I should not marry
+	her to-morrow in the congregation, where I should
+	wed, there will I shame her.
+
+DON PEDRO	And, as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join
+	with thee to disgrace her.
+
+DON JOHN	I will disparage her no farther till you are my
+	witnesses: bear it coldly but till midnight, and
+	let the issue show itself.
+
+DON PEDRO	O day untowardly turned!
+
+CLAUDIO	O mischief strangely thwarting!
+
+DON JOHN	O plague right well prevented! so will you say when
+	you have seen the sequel.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A street.
+
+
+	[Enter DOGBERRY and VERGES with the Watch]
+
+DOGBERRY	Are you good men and true?
+
+VERGES	Yea, or else it were pity but they should suffer
+	salvation, body and soul.
+
+DOGBERRY	Nay, that were a punishment too good for them, if
+	they should have any allegiance in them, being
+	chosen for the prince's watch.
+
+VERGES	Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dogberry.
+
+DOGBERRY	First, who think you the most desertless man to be
+	constable?
+
+First Watchman	Hugh Otecake, sir, or George Seacole; for they can
+	write and read.
+
+DOGBERRY	Come hither, neighbour Seacole. God hath blessed
+	you with a good name: to be a well-favoured man is
+	the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature.
+
+Second Watchman	Both which, master constable,--
+
+DOGBERRY	You have: I knew it would be your answer. Well,
+	for your favour, sir, why, give God thanks, and make
+	no boast of it; and for your writing and reading,
+	let that appear when there is no need of such
+	vanity. You are thought here to be the most
+	senseless and fit man for the constable of the
+	watch; therefore bear you the lantern. This is your
+	charge: you shall comprehend all vagrom men; you are
+	to bid any man stand, in the prince's name.
+
+Second Watchman	How if a' will not stand?
+
+DOGBERRY	Why, then, take no note of him, but let him go; and
+	presently call the rest of the watch together and
+	thank God you are rid of a knave.
+
+VERGES	If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none
+	of the prince's subjects.
+
+DOGBERRY	True, and they are to meddle with none but the
+	prince's subjects. You shall also make no noise in
+	the streets; for, for the watch to babble and to
+	talk is most tolerable and not to be endured.
+
+Watchman	We will rather sleep than talk: we know what
+	belongs to a watch.
+
+DOGBERRY	Why, you speak like an ancient and most quiet
+	watchman; for I cannot see how sleeping should
+	offend: only, have a care that your bills be not
+	stolen. Well, you are to call at all the
+	ale-houses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed.
+
+Watchman	How if they will not?
+
+DOGBERRY	Why, then, let them alone till they are sober: if
+	they make you not then the better answer, you may
+	say they are not the men you took them for.
+
+Watchman	Well, sir.
+
+DOGBERRY	If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by virtue
+	of your office, to be no true man; and, for such
+	kind of men, the less you meddle or make with them,
+	why the more is for your honesty.
+
+Watchman	If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay
+	hands on him?
+
+DOGBERRY	Truly, by your office, you may; but I think they
+	that touch pitch will be defiled: the most peaceable
+	way for you, if you do take a thief, is to let him
+	show himself what he is and steal out of your company.
+
+VERGES	You have been always called a merciful man, partner.
+
+DOGBERRY	Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will, much more
+	a man who hath any honesty in him.
+
+VERGES	If you hear a child cry in the night, you must call
+	to the nurse and bid her still it.
+
+Watchman	How if the nurse be asleep and will not hear us?
+
+DOGBERRY	Why, then, depart in peace, and let the child wake
+	her with crying; for the ewe that will not hear her
+	lamb when it baes will never answer a calf when he bleats.
+
+VERGES	'Tis very true.
+
+DOGBERRY	This is the end of the charge:--you, constable, are
+	to present the prince's own person: if you meet the
+	prince in the night, you may stay him.
+
+VERGES	Nay, by'r our lady, that I think a' cannot.
+
+DOGBERRY	Five shillings to one on't, with any man that knows
+	the statutes, he may stay him: marry, not without
+	the prince be willing; for, indeed, the watch ought
+	to offend no man; and it is an offence to stay a
+	man against his will.
+
+VERGES	By'r lady, I think it be so.
+
+DOGBERRY	Ha, ha, ha! Well, masters, good night: an there be
+	any matter of weight chances, call up me: keep your
+	fellows' counsels and your own; and good night.
+	Come, neighbour.
+
+Watchman	Well, masters, we hear our charge: let us go sit here
+	upon the church-bench till two, and then all to bed.
+
+DOGBERRY	One word more, honest neighbours. I pray you watch
+	about Signior Leonato's door; for the wedding being
+	there to-morrow, there is a great coil to-night.
+	Adieu: be vigitant, I beseech you.
+
+	[Exeunt DOGBERRY and VERGES]
+
+	[Enter BORACHIO and CONRADE]
+
+BORACHIO	What Conrade!
+
+Watchman	[Aside]  Peace! stir not.
+
+BORACHIO	Conrade, I say!
+
+CONRADE	Here, man; I am at thy elbow.
+
+BORACHIO	Mass, and my elbow itched; I thought there would a
+	scab follow.
+
+CONRADE	I will owe thee an answer for that: and now forward
+	with thy tale.
+
+BORACHIO	Stand thee close, then, under this pent-house, for
+	it drizzles rain; and I will, like a true drunkard,
+	utter all to thee.
+
+Watchman	[Aside]  Some treason, masters: yet stand close.
+
+BORACHIO	Therefore know I have earned of Don John a thousand ducats.
+
+CONRADE	Is it possible that any villany should be so dear?
+
+BORACHIO	Thou shouldst rather ask if it were possible any
+	villany should be so rich; for when rich villains
+	have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what
+	price they will.
+
+CONRADE	I wonder at it.
+
+BORACHIO	That shows thou art unconfirmed. Thou knowest that
+	the fashion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloak, is
+	nothing to a man.
+
+CONRADE	Yes, it is apparel.
+
+BORACHIO	I mean, the fashion.
+
+CONRADE	Yes, the fashion is the fashion.
+
+BORACHIO	Tush! I may as well say the fool's the fool. But
+	seest thou not what a deformed thief this fashion
+	is?
+
+Watchman	[Aside]  I know that Deformed; a' has been a vile
+	thief this seven year; a' goes up and down like a
+	gentleman: I remember his name.
+
+BORACHIO	Didst thou not hear somebody?
+
+CONRADE	No; 'twas the vane on the house.
+
+BORACHIO	Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this
+	fashion is? how giddily a' turns about all the hot
+	bloods between fourteen and five-and-thirty?
+	sometimes fashioning them like Pharaoh's soldiers
+	in the reeky painting, sometime like god Bel's
+	priests in the old church-window, sometime like the
+	shaven Hercules in the smirched worm-eaten tapestry,
+	where his codpiece seems as massy as his club?
+
+CONRADE	All this I see; and I see that the fashion wears
+	out more apparel than the man. But art not thou
+	thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou hast
+	shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion?
+
+BORACHIO	Not so, neither: but know that I have to-night
+	wooed Margaret, the Lady Hero's gentlewoman, by the
+	name of Hero: she leans me out at her mistress'
+	chamber-window, bids me a thousand times good
+	night,--I tell this tale vilely:--I should first
+	tell thee how the prince, Claudio and my master,
+	planted and placed and possessed by my master Don
+	John, saw afar off in the orchard this amiable encounter.
+
+CONRADE	And thought they Margaret was Hero?
+
+BORACHIO	Two of them did, the prince and Claudio; but the
+	devil my master knew she was Margaret; and partly
+	by his oaths, which first possessed them, partly by
+	the dark night, which did deceive them, but chiefly
+	by my villany, which did confirm any slander that
+	Don John had made, away went Claudio enraged; swore
+	he would meet her, as he was appointed, next morning
+	at the temple, and there, before the whole
+	congregation, shame her with what he saw o'er night
+	and send her home again without a husband.
+
+First Watchman	We charge you, in the prince's name, stand!
+
+Second Watchman	Call up the right master constable. We have here
+	recovered the most dangerous piece of lechery that
+	ever was known in the commonwealth.
+
+First Watchman	And one Deformed is one of them: I know him; a'
+	wears a lock.
+
+CONRADE	Masters, masters,--
+
+Second Watchman	You'll be made bring Deformed forth, I warrant you.
+
+CONRADE	Masters,--
+
+First Watchman	Never speak: we charge you let us obey you to go with us.
+
+BORACHIO	We are like to prove a goodly commodity, being taken
+	up of these men's bills.
+
+CONRADE	A commodity in question, I warrant you. Come, we'll obey you.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	HERO's apartment.
+
+
+	[Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULA]
+
+HERO	Good Ursula, wake my cousin Beatrice, and desire
+	her to rise.
+
+URSULA	I will, lady.
+
+HERO	And bid her come hither.
+
+URSULA	Well.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MARGARET	Troth, I think your other rabato were better.
+
+HERO	No, pray thee, good Meg, I'll wear this.
+
+MARGARET	By my troth, 's not so good; and I warrant your
+	cousin will say so.
+
+HERO	My cousin's a fool, and thou art another: I'll wear
+	none but this.
+
+MARGARET	I like the new tire within excellently, if the hair
+	were a thought browner; and your gown's a most rare
+	fashion, i' faith. I saw the Duchess of Milan's
+	gown that they praise so.
+
+HERO	O, that exceeds, they say.
+
+MARGARET	By my troth, 's but a night-gown in respect of
+	yours: cloth o' gold, and cuts, and laced with
+	silver, set with pearls, down sleeves, side sleeves,
+	and skirts, round underborne with a bluish tinsel:
+	but for a fine, quaint, graceful and excellent
+	fashion, yours is worth ten on 't.
+
+HERO	God give me joy to wear it! for my heart is
+	exceeding heavy.
+
+MARGARET	'Twill be heavier soon by the weight of a man.
+
+HERO	Fie upon thee! art not ashamed?
+
+MARGARET	Of what, lady? of speaking honourably? Is not
+	marriage honourable in a beggar? Is not your lord
+	honourable without marriage? I think you would have
+	me say, 'saving your reverence, a husband:' and bad
+	thinking do not wrest true speaking, I'll offend
+	nobody: is there any harm in 'the heavier for a
+	husband'? None, I think, and it be the right husband
+	and the right wife; otherwise 'tis light, and not
+	heavy: ask my Lady Beatrice else; here she comes.
+
+	[Enter BEATRICE]
+
+HERO	Good morrow, coz.
+
+BEATRICE	Good morrow, sweet Hero.
+
+HERO	Why how now? do you speak in the sick tune?
+
+BEATRICE	I am out of all other tune, methinks.
+
+MARGARET	Clap's into 'Light o' love;' that goes without a
+	burden: do you sing it, and I'll dance it.
+
+BEATRICE	Ye light o' love, with your heels! then, if your
+	husband have stables enough, you'll see he shall
+	lack no barns.
+
+MARGARET	O illegitimate construction! I scorn that with my heels.
+
+BEATRICE	'Tis almost five o'clock, cousin; tis time you were
+	ready. By my troth, I am exceeding ill: heigh-ho!
+
+MARGARET	For a hawk, a horse, or a husband?
+
+BEATRICE	For the letter that begins them all, H.
+
+MARGARET	Well, and you be not turned Turk, there's no more
+	sailing by the star.
+
+BEATRICE	What means the fool, trow?
+
+MARGARET	Nothing I; but God send every one their heart's desire!
+
+HERO	These gloves the count sent me; they are an
+	excellent perfume.
+
+BEATRICE	I am stuffed, cousin; I cannot smell.
+
+MARGARET	A maid, and stuffed! there's goodly catching of cold.
+
+BEATRICE	O, God help me! God help me! how long have you
+	professed apprehension?
+
+MARGARET	Even since you left it. Doth not my wit become me rarely?
+
+BEATRICE	It is not seen enough, you should wear it in your
+	cap. By my troth, I am sick.
+
+MARGARET	Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus,
+	and lay it to your heart: it is the only thing for a qualm.
+
+HERO	There thou prickest her with a thistle.
+
+BEATRICE	Benedictus! why Benedictus? you have some moral in
+	this Benedictus.
+
+MARGARET	Moral! no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning; I
+	meant, plain holy-thistle. You may think perchance
+	that I think you are in love: nay, by'r lady, I am
+	not such a fool to think what I list, nor I list
+	not to think what I can, nor indeed I cannot think,
+	if I would think my heart out of thinking, that you
+	are in love or that you will be in love or that you
+	can be in love. Yet Benedick was such another, and
+	now is he become a man: he swore he would never
+	marry, and yet now, in despite of his heart, he eats
+	his meat without grudging: and how you may be
+	converted I know not, but methinks you look with
+	your eyes as other women do.
+
+BEATRICE	What pace is this that thy tongue keeps?
+
+MARGARET	Not a false gallop.
+
+	[Re-enter URSULA]
+
+URSULA	Madam, withdraw: the prince, the count, Signior
+	Benedick, Don John, and all the gallants of the
+	town, are come to fetch you to church.
+
+HERO	Help to dress me, good coz, good Meg, good Ursula.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another room in LEONATO'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter LEONATO, with DOGBERRY and VERGES]
+
+LEONATO	What would you with me, honest neighbour?
+
+DOGBERRY	Marry, sir, I would have some confidence with you
+	that decerns you nearly.
+
+LEONATO	Brief, I pray you; for you see it is a busy time with me.
+
+DOGBERRY	Marry, this it is, sir.
+
+VERGES	Yes, in truth it is, sir.
+
+LEONATO	What is it, my good friends?
+
+DOGBERRY	Goodman Verges, sir, speaks a little off the
+	matter: an old man, sir, and his wits are not so
+	blunt as, God help, I would desire they were; but,
+	in faith, honest as the skin between his brows.
+
+VERGES	Yes, I thank God I am as honest as any man living
+	that is an old man and no honester than I.
+
+DOGBERRY	Comparisons are odorous: palabras, neighbour Verges.
+
+LEONATO	Neighbours, you are tedious.
+
+DOGBERRY	It pleases your worship to say so, but we are the
+	poor duke's officers; but truly, for mine own part,
+	if I were as tedious as a king, I could find it in
+	my heart to bestow it all of your worship.
+
+LEONATO	All thy tediousness on me, ah?
+
+DOGBERRY	Yea, an 'twere a thousand pound more than 'tis; for
+	I hear as good exclamation on your worship as of any
+	man in the city; and though I be but a poor man, I
+	am glad to hear it.
+
+VERGES	And so am I.
+
+LEONATO	I would fain know what you have to say.
+
+VERGES	Marry, sir, our watch to-night, excepting your
+	worship's presence, ha' ta'en a couple of as arrant
+	knaves as any in Messina.
+
+DOGBERRY	A good old man, sir; he will be talking: as they
+	say, when the age is in, the wit is out: God help
+	us! it is a world to see. Well said, i' faith,
+	neighbour Verges: well, God's a good man; an two men
+	ride of a horse, one must ride behind. An honest
+	soul, i' faith, sir; by my troth he is, as ever
+	broke bread; but God is to be worshipped; all men
+	are not alike; alas, good neighbour!
+
+LEONATO	Indeed, neighbour, he comes too short of you.
+
+DOGBERRY	Gifts that God gives.
+
+LEONATO	I must leave you.
+
+DOGBERRY	One word, sir: our watch, sir, have indeed
+	comprehended two aspicious persons, and we would
+	have them this morning examined before your worship.
+
+LEONATO	Take their examination yourself and bring it me: I
+	am now in great haste, as it may appear unto you.
+
+DOGBERRY	It shall be suffigance.
+
+LEONATO	Drink some wine ere you go: fare you well.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	My lord, they stay for you to give your daughter to
+	her husband.
+
+LEONATO	I'll wait upon them: I am ready.
+
+	[Exeunt LEONATO and Messenger]
+
+DOGBERRY	Go, good partner, go, get you to Francis Seacole;
+	bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the gaol: we
+	are now to examination these men.
+
+VERGES	And we must do it wisely.
+
+DOGBERRY	We will spare for no wit, I warrant you; here's
+	that shall drive some of them to a non-come: only
+	get the learned writer to set down our
+	excommunication and meet me at the gaol.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A church.
+
+
+	[Enter DON PEDRO, DON JOHN, LEONATO, FRIAR FRANCIS,
+	CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, HERO, BEATRICE, and Attendants]
+
+LEONATO	Come, Friar Francis, be brief; only to the plain
+	form of marriage, and you shall recount their
+	particular duties afterwards.
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady.
+
+CLAUDIO	No.
+
+LEONATO	To be married to her: friar, you come to marry her.
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	Lady, you come hither to be married to this count.
+
+HERO	I do.
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	If either of you know any inward impediment why you
+	should not be conjoined, charge you, on your souls,
+	to utter it.
+
+CLAUDIO	Know you any, Hero?
+
+HERO	None, my lord.
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	Know you any, count?
+
+LEONATO	I dare make his answer, none.
+
+CLAUDIO	O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily
+	do, not knowing what they do!
+
+BENEDICK	How now! interjections? Why, then, some be of
+	laughing, as, ah, ha, he!
+
+CLAUDIO	Stand thee by, friar. Father, by your leave:
+	Will you with free and unconstrained soul
+	Give me this maid, your daughter?
+
+LEONATO	As freely, son, as God did give her me.
+
+CLAUDIO	And what have I to give you back, whose worth
+	May counterpoise this rich and precious gift?
+
+DON PEDRO	Nothing, unless you render her again.
+
+CLAUDIO	Sweet prince, you learn me noble thankfulness.
+	There, Leonato, take her back again:
+	Give not this rotten orange to your friend;
+	She's but the sign and semblance of her honour.
+	Behold how like a maid she blushes here!
+	O, what authority and show of truth
+	Can cunning sin cover itself withal!
+	Comes not that blood as modest evidence
+	To witness simple virtue? Would you not swear,
+	All you that see her, that she were a maid,
+	By these exterior shows? But she is none:
+	She knows the heat of a luxurious bed;
+	Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty.
+
+LEONATO	What do you mean, my lord?
+
+CLAUDIO	Not to be married,
+	Not to knit my soul to an approved wanton.
+
+LEONATO	Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof,
+	Have vanquish'd the resistance of her youth,
+	And made defeat of her virginity,--
+
+CLAUDIO	I know what you would say: if I have known her,
+	You will say she did embrace me as a husband,
+	And so extenuate the 'forehand sin:
+	No, Leonato,
+	I never tempted her with word too large;
+	But, as a brother to his sister, show'd
+	Bashful sincerity and comely love.
+
+HERO	And seem'd I ever otherwise to you?
+
+CLAUDIO	Out on thee! Seeming! I will write against it:
+	You seem to me as Dian in her orb,
+	As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown;
+	But you are more intemperate in your blood
+	Than Venus, or those pamper'd animals
+	That rage in savage sensuality.
+
+HERO	Is my lord well, that he doth speak so wide?
+
+LEONATO	Sweet prince, why speak not you?
+
+DON PEDRO	What should I speak?
+	I stand dishonour'd, that have gone about
+	To link my dear friend to a common stale.
+
+LEONATO	Are these things spoken, or do I but dream?
+
+DON JOHN	Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true.
+
+BENEDICK	This looks not like a nuptial.
+
+HERO	True! O God!
+
+CLAUDIO	Leonato, stand I here?
+	Is this the prince? is this the prince's brother?
+	Is this face Hero's? are our eyes our own?
+
+LEONATO	All this is so: but what of this, my lord?
+
+CLAUDIO	Let me but move one question to your daughter;
+	And, by that fatherly and kindly power
+	That you have in her, bid her answer truly.
+
+LEONATO	I charge thee do so, as thou art my child.
+
+HERO	O, God defend me! how am I beset!
+	What kind of catechising call you this?
+
+CLAUDIO	To make you answer truly to your name.
+
+HERO	Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name
+	With any just reproach?
+
+CLAUDIO	Marry, that can Hero;
+	Hero itself can blot out Hero's virtue.
+	What man was he talk'd with you yesternight
+	Out at your window betwixt twelve and one?
+	Now, if you are a maid, answer to this.
+
+HERO	I talk'd with no man at that hour, my lord.
+
+DON PEDRO	Why, then are you no maiden. Leonato,
+	I am sorry you must hear: upon mine honour,
+	Myself, my brother and this grieved count
+	Did see her, hear her, at that hour last night
+	Talk with a ruffian at her chamber-window
+	Who hath indeed, most like a liberal villain,
+	Confess'd the vile encounters they have had
+	A thousand times in secret.
+
+DON JOHN	Fie, fie! they are not to be named, my lord,
+	Not to be spoke of;
+	There is not chastity enough in language
+	Without offence to utter them. Thus, pretty lady,
+	I am sorry for thy much misgovernment.
+
+CLAUDIO	O Hero, what a Hero hadst thou been,
+	If half thy outward graces had been placed
+	About thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart!
+	But fare thee well, most foul, most fair! farewell,
+	Thou pure impiety and impious purity!
+	For thee I'll lock up all the gates of love,
+	And on my eyelids shall conjecture hang,
+	To turn all beauty into thoughts of harm,
+	And never shall it more be gracious.
+
+LEONATO	Hath no man's dagger here a point for me?
+
+	[HERO swoons]
+
+BEATRICE	Why, how now, cousin! wherefore sink you down?
+
+DON JOHN	Come, let us go. These things, come thus to light,
+	Smother her spirits up.
+
+	[Exeunt DON PEDRO, DON JOHN, and CLAUDIO]
+
+BENEDICK	How doth the lady?
+
+BEATRICE	                  Dead, I think. Help, uncle!
+	Hero! why, Hero! Uncle! Signior Benedick! Friar!
+
+LEONATO	O Fate! take not away thy heavy hand.
+	Death is the fairest cover for her shame
+	That may be wish'd for.
+
+BEATRICE	How now, cousin Hero!
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	Have comfort, lady.
+
+LEONATO	Dost thou look up?
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	Yea, wherefore should she not?
+
+LEONATO	Wherefore! Why, doth not every earthly thing
+	Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny
+	The story that is printed in her blood?
+	Do not live, Hero; do not ope thine eyes:
+	For, did I think thou wouldst not quickly die,
+	Thought I thy spirits were stronger than thy shames,
+	Myself would, on the rearward of reproaches,
+	Strike at thy life. Grieved I, I had but one?
+	Chid I for that at frugal nature's frame?
+	O, one too much by thee! Why had I one?
+	Why ever wast thou lovely in my eyes?
+	Why had I not with charitable hand
+	Took up a beggar's issue at my gates,
+	Who smirch'd thus and mired with infamy,
+	I might have said 'No part of it is mine;
+	This shame derives itself from unknown loins'?
+	But mine and mine I loved and mine I praised
+	And mine that I was proud on, mine so much
+	That I myself was to myself not mine,
+	Valuing of her,--why, she, O, she is fallen
+	Into a pit of ink, that the wide sea
+	Hath drops too few to wash her clean again
+	And salt too little which may season give
+	To her foul-tainted flesh!
+
+BENEDICK	Sir, sir, be patient.
+	For my part, I am so attired in wonder,
+	I know not what to say.
+
+BEATRICE	O, on my soul, my cousin is belied!
+
+BENEDICK	Lady, were you her bedfellow last night?
+
+BEATRICE	No, truly not; although, until last night,
+	I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow.
+
+LEONATO	Confirm'd, confirm'd! O, that is stronger made
+	Which was before barr'd up with ribs of iron!
+	Would the two princes lie, and Claudio lie,
+	Who loved her so, that, speaking of her foulness,
+	Wash'd it with tears? Hence from her! let her die.
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	Hear me a little; for I have only been
+	Silent so long and given way unto
+	This course of fortune [           ]
+	By noting of the lady I have mark'd
+	A thousand blushing apparitions
+	To start into her face, a thousand innocent shames
+	In angel whiteness beat away those blushes;
+	And in her eye there hath appear'd a fire,
+	To burn the errors that these princes hold
+	Against her maiden truth. Call me a fool;
+	Trust not my reading nor my observations,
+	Which with experimental seal doth warrant
+	The tenor of my book; trust not my age,
+	My reverence, calling, nor divinity,
+	If this sweet lady lie not guiltless here
+	Under some biting error.
+
+LEONATO	Friar, it cannot be.
+	Thou seest that all the grace that she hath left
+	Is that she will not add to her damnation
+	A sin of perjury; she not denies it:
+	Why seek'st thou then to cover with excuse
+	That which appears in proper nakedness?
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	Lady, what man is he you are accused of?
+
+HERO	They know that do accuse me; I know none:
+	If I know more of any man alive
+	Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant,
+	Let all my sins lack mercy! O my father,
+	Prove you that any man with me conversed
+	At hours unmeet, or that I yesternight
+	Maintain'd the change of words with any creature,
+	Refuse me, hate me, torture me to death!
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	There is some strange misprision in the princes.
+
+BENEDICK	Two of them have the very bent of honour;
+	And if their wisdoms be misled in this,
+	The practise of it lives in John the bastard,
+	Whose spirits toil in frame of villanies.
+
+LEONATO	I know not. If they speak but truth of her,
+	These hands shall tear her; if they wrong her honour,
+	The proudest of them shall well hear of it.
+	Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine,
+	Nor age so eat up my invention,
+	Nor fortune made such havoc of my means,
+	Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends,
+	But they shall find, awaked in such a kind,
+	Both strength of limb and policy of mind,
+	Ability in means and choice of friends,
+	To quit me of them throughly.
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	Pause awhile,
+	And let my counsel sway you in this case.
+	Your daughter here the princes left for dead:
+	Let her awhile be secretly kept in,
+	And publish it that she is dead indeed;
+	Maintain a mourning ostentation
+	And on your family's old monument
+	Hang mournful epitaphs and do all rites
+	That appertain unto a burial.
+
+LEONATO	What shall become of this? what will this do?
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	Marry, this well carried shall on her behalf
+	Change slander to remorse; that is some good:
+	But not for that dream I on this strange course,
+	But on this travail look for greater birth.
+	She dying, as it must so be maintain'd,
+	Upon the instant that she was accused,
+	Shall be lamented, pitied and excused
+	Of every hearer: for it so falls out
+	That what we have we prize not to the worth
+	Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost,
+	Why, then we rack the value, then we find
+	The virtue that possession would not show us
+	Whiles it was ours. So will it fare with Claudio:
+	When he shall hear she died upon his words,
+	The idea of her life shall sweetly creep
+	Into his study of imagination,
+	And every lovely organ of her life
+	Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit,
+	More moving-delicate and full of life,
+	Into the eye and prospect of his soul,
+	Than when she lived indeed; then shall he mourn,
+	If ever love had interest in his liver,
+	And wish he had not so accused her,
+	No, though he thought his accusation true.
+	Let this be so, and doubt not but success
+	Will fashion the event in better shape
+	Than I can lay it down in likelihood.
+	But if all aim but this be levell'd false,
+	The supposition of the lady's death
+	Will quench the wonder of her infamy:
+	And if it sort not well, you may conceal her,
+	As best befits her wounded reputation,
+	In some reclusive and religious life,
+	Out of all eyes, tongues, minds and injuries.
+
+BENEDICK	Signior Leonato, let the friar advise you:
+	And though you know my inwardness and love
+	Is very much unto the prince and Claudio,
+	Yet, by mine honour, I will deal in this
+	As secretly and justly as your soul
+	Should with your body.
+
+LEONATO	Being that I flow in grief,
+	The smallest twine may lead me.
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	'Tis well consented: presently away;
+	For to strange sores strangely they strain the cure.
+	Come, lady, die to live: this wedding-day
+	Perhaps is but prolong'd: have patience and endure.
+
+	[Exeunt all but BENEDICK and BEATRICE]
+
+BENEDICK	Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?
+
+BEATRICE	Yea, and I will weep a while longer.
+
+BENEDICK	I will not desire that.
+
+BEATRICE	You have no reason; I do it freely.
+
+BENEDICK	Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.
+
+BEATRICE	Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her!
+
+BENEDICK	Is there any way to show such friendship?
+
+BEATRICE	A very even way, but no such friend.
+
+BENEDICK	May a man do it?
+
+BEATRICE	It is a man's office, but not yours.
+
+BENEDICK	I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is
+	not that strange?
+
+BEATRICE	As strange as the thing I know not. It were as
+	possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as
+	you: but believe me not; and yet I lie not; I
+	confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.
+
+BENEDICK	By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.
+
+BEATRICE	Do not swear, and eat it.
+
+BENEDICK	I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make
+	him eat it that says I love not you.
+
+BEATRICE	Will you not eat your word?
+
+BENEDICK	With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest
+	I love thee.
+
+BEATRICE	Why, then, God forgive me!
+
+BENEDICK	What offence, sweet Beatrice?
+
+BEATRICE	You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about to
+	protest I loved you.
+
+BENEDICK	And do it with all thy heart.
+
+BEATRICE	I love you with so much of my heart that none is
+	left to protest.
+
+BENEDICK	Come, bid me do any thing for thee.
+
+BEATRICE	Kill Claudio.
+
+BENEDICK	Ha! not for the wide world.
+
+BEATRICE	You kill me to deny it. Farewell.
+
+BENEDICK	Tarry, sweet Beatrice.
+
+BEATRICE	I am gone, though I am here: there is no love in
+	you: nay, I pray you, let me go.
+
+BENEDICK	Beatrice,--
+
+BEATRICE	In faith, I will go.
+
+BENEDICK	We'll be friends first.
+
+BEATRICE	You dare easier be friends with me than fight with mine enemy.
+
+BENEDICK	Is Claudio thine enemy?
+
+BEATRICE	Is he not approved in the height a villain, that
+	hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O
+	that I were a man! What, bear her in hand until they
+	come to take hands; and then, with public
+	accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour,
+	--O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart
+	in the market-place.
+
+BENEDICK	Hear me, Beatrice,--
+
+BEATRICE	Talk with a man out at a window! A proper saying!
+
+BENEDICK	Nay, but, Beatrice,--
+
+BEATRICE	Sweet Hero! She is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone.
+
+BENEDICK	Beat--
+
+BEATRICE	Princes and counties! Surely, a princely testimony,
+	a goodly count, Count Comfect; a sweet gallant,
+	surely! O that I were a man for his sake! or that I
+	had any friend would be a man for my sake! But
+	manhood is melted into courtesies, valour into
+	compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and
+	trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules
+	that only tells a lie and swears it. I cannot be a
+	man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.
+
+BENEDICK	Tarry, good Beatrice. By this hand, I love thee.
+
+BEATRICE	Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.
+
+BENEDICK	Think you in your soul the Count Claudio hath wronged Hero?
+
+BEATRICE	Yea, as sure as I have a thought or a soul.
+
+BENEDICK	Enough, I am engaged; I will challenge him. I will
+	kiss your hand, and so I leave you. By this hand,
+	Claudio shall render me a dear account. As you
+	hear of me, so think of me. Go, comfort your
+	cousin: I must say she is dead: and so, farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A prison.
+
+
+	[Enter DOGBERRY, VERGES, and Sexton, in gowns; and
+	the Watch, with CONRADE and BORACHIO]
+
+DOGBERRY	Is our whole dissembly appeared?
+
+VERGES	O, a stool and a cushion for the sexton.
+
+Sexton	Which be the malefactors?
+
+DOGBERRY	Marry, that am I and my partner.
+
+VERGES	Nay, that's certain; we have the exhibition to examine.
+
+Sexton	But which are the offenders that are to be
+	examined? let them come before master constable.
+
+DOGBERRY	Yea, marry, let them come before me. What is your
+	name, friend?
+
+BORACHIO	Borachio.
+
+DOGBERRY	Pray, write down, Borachio. Yours, sirrah?
+
+CONRADE	I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade.
+
+DOGBERRY	Write down, master gentleman Conrade. Masters, do
+	you serve God?
+
+
+CONRADE	|
+	|  Yea, sir, we hope.
+BORACHIO	|
+
+
+DOGBERRY	Write down, that they hope they serve God: and
+	write God first; for God defend but God should go
+	before such villains! Masters, it is proved already
+	that you are little better than false knaves; and it
+	will go near to be thought so shortly. How answer
+	you for yourselves?
+
+CONRADE	Marry, sir, we say we are none.
+
+DOGBERRY	A marvellous witty fellow, I assure you: but I
+	will go about with him. Come you hither, sirrah; a
+	word in your ear: sir, I say to you, it is thought
+	you are false knaves.
+
+BORACHIO	Sir, I say to you we are none.
+
+DOGBERRY	Well, stand aside. 'Fore God, they are both in a
+	tale. Have you writ down, that they are none?
+
+Sexton	Master constable, you go not the way to examine:
+	you must call forth the watch that are their accusers.
+
+DOGBERRY	Yea, marry, that's the eftest way. Let the watch
+	come forth. Masters, I charge you, in the prince's
+	name, accuse these men.
+
+First Watchman	This man said, sir, that Don John, the prince's
+	brother, was a villain.
+
+DOGBERRY	Write down Prince John a villain. Why, this is flat
+	perjury, to call a prince's brother villain.
+
+BORACHIO	Master constable,--
+
+DOGBERRY	Pray thee, fellow, peace: I do not like thy look,
+	I promise thee.
+
+Sexton	What heard you him say else?
+
+Second Watchman	Marry, that he had received a thousand ducats of
+	Don John for accusing the Lady Hero wrongfully.
+
+DOGBERRY	Flat burglary as ever was committed.
+
+VERGES	Yea, by mass, that it is.
+
+Sexton	What else, fellow?
+
+First Watchman	And that Count Claudio did mean, upon his words, to
+	disgrace Hero before the whole assembly. and not marry her.
+
+DOGBERRY	O villain! thou wilt be condemned into everlasting
+	redemption for this.
+
+Sexton	What else?
+
+Watchman	This is all.
+
+Sexton	And this is more, masters, than you can deny.
+	Prince John is this morning secretly stolen away;
+	Hero was in this manner accused, in this very manner
+	refused, and upon the grief of this suddenly died.
+	Master constable, let these men be bound, and
+	brought to Leonato's: I will go before and show
+	him their examination.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DOGBERRY	Come, let them be opinioned.
+
+VERGES	Let them be in the hands--
+
+CONRADE	Off, coxcomb!
+
+DOGBERRY	God's my life, where's the sexton? let him write
+	down the prince's officer coxcomb. Come, bind them.
+	Thou naughty varlet!
+
+CONRADE	Away! you are an ass, you are an ass.
+
+DOGBERRY	Dost thou not suspect my place? dost thou not
+	suspect my years? O that he were here to write me
+	down an ass! But, masters, remember that I am an
+	ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not
+	that I am an ass. No, thou villain, thou art full of
+	piety, as shall be proved upon thee by good witness.
+	I am a wise fellow, and, which is more, an officer,
+	and, which is more, a householder, and, which is
+	more, as pretty a piece of flesh as any is in
+	Messina, and one that knows the law, go to; and a
+	rich fellow enough, go to; and a fellow that hath
+	had losses, and one that hath two gowns and every
+	thing handsome about him. Bring him away. O that
+	I had been writ down an ass!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before LEONATO'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter LEONATO and ANTONIO]
+
+ANTONIO	If you go on thus, you will kill yourself:
+	And 'tis not wisdom thus to second grief
+	Against yourself.
+
+LEONATO	                  I pray thee, cease thy counsel,
+	Which falls into mine ears as profitless
+	As water in a sieve: give not me counsel;
+	Nor let no comforter delight mine ear
+	But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine.
+	Bring me a father that so loved his child,
+	Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,
+	And bid him speak of patience;
+	Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine
+	And let it answer every strain for strain,
+	As thus for thus and such a grief for such,
+	In every lineament, branch, shape, and form:
+	If such a one will smile and stroke his beard,
+	Bid sorrow wag, cry 'hem!' when he should groan,
+	Patch grief with proverbs, make misfortune drunk
+	With candle-wasters; bring him yet to me,
+	And I of him will gather patience.
+	But there is no such man: for, brother, men
+	Can counsel and speak comfort to that grief
+	Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it,
+	Their counsel turns to passion, which before
+	Would give preceptial medicine to rage,
+	Fetter strong madness in a silken thread,
+	Charm ache with air and agony with words:
+	No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience
+	To those that wring under the load of sorrow,
+	But no man's virtue nor sufficiency
+	To be so moral when he shall endure
+	The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel:
+	My griefs cry louder than advertisement.
+
+ANTONIO	Therein do men from children nothing differ.
+
+LEONATO	I pray thee, peace. I will be flesh and blood;
+	For there was never yet philosopher
+	That could endure the toothache patiently,
+	However they have writ the style of gods
+	And made a push at chance and sufferance.
+
+ANTONIO	Yet bend not all the harm upon yourself;
+	Make those that do offend you suffer too.
+
+LEONATO	There thou speak'st reason: nay, I will do so.
+	My soul doth tell me Hero is belied;
+	And that shall Claudio know; so shall the prince
+	And all of them that thus dishonour her.
+
+ANTONIO	Here comes the prince and Claudio hastily.
+
+	[Enter DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO]
+
+DON PEDRO	Good den, good den.
+
+CLAUDIO	Good day to both of you.
+
+LEONATO	Hear you. my lords,--
+
+DON PEDRO	We have some haste, Leonato.
+
+LEONATO	Some haste, my lord! well, fare you well, my lord:
+	Are you so hasty now? well, all is one.
+
+DON PEDRO	Nay, do not quarrel with us, good old man.
+
+ANTONIO	If he could right himself with quarreling,
+	Some of us would lie low.
+
+CLAUDIO	Who wrongs him?
+
+LEONATO	Marry, thou dost wrong me; thou dissembler, thou:--
+	Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword;
+	I fear thee not.
+
+CLAUDIO	                  Marry, beshrew my hand,
+	If it should give your age such cause of fear:
+	In faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.
+
+LEONATO	Tush, tush, man; never fleer and jest at me:
+	I speak not like a dotard nor a fool,
+	As under privilege of age to brag
+	What I have done being young, or what would do
+	Were I not old. Know, Claudio, to thy head,
+	Thou hast so wrong'd mine innocent child and me
+	That I am forced to lay my reverence by
+	And, with grey hairs and bruise of many days,
+	Do challenge thee to trial of a man.
+	I say thou hast belied mine innocent child;
+	Thy slander hath gone through and through her heart,
+	And she lies buried with her ancestors;
+	O, in a tomb where never scandal slept,
+	Save this of hers, framed by thy villany!
+
+CLAUDIO	My villany?
+
+LEONATO	          Thine, Claudio; thine, I say.
+
+DON PEDRO	You say not right, old man.
+
+LEONATO	My lord, my lord,
+	I'll prove it on his body, if he dare,
+	Despite his nice fence and his active practise,
+	His May of youth and bloom of lustihood.
+
+CLAUDIO	Away! I will not have to do with you.
+
+LEONATO	Canst thou so daff me? Thou hast kill'd my child:
+	If thou kill'st me, boy, thou shalt kill a man.
+
+ANTONIO	He shall kill two of us, and men indeed:
+	But that's no matter; let him kill one first;
+	Win me and wear me; let him answer me.
+	Come, follow me, boy; come, sir boy, come, follow me:
+	Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foining fence;
+	Nay, as I am a gentleman, I will.
+
+LEONATO	Brother,--
+
+ANTONIO	Content yourself. God knows I loved my niece;
+	And she is dead, slander'd to death by villains,
+	That dare as well answer a man indeed
+	As I dare take a serpent by the tongue:
+	Boys, apes, braggarts, Jacks, milksops!
+
+LEONATO	Brother Antony,--
+
+ANTONIO	Hold you content. What, man! I know them, yea,
+	And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple,--
+	Scrambling, out-facing, fashion-monging boys,
+	That lie and cog and flout, deprave and slander,
+	Go anticly, show outward hideousness,
+	And speak off half a dozen dangerous words,
+	How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst;
+	And this is all.
+
+LEONATO	But, brother Antony,--
+
+ANTONIO	Come, 'tis no matter:
+	Do not you meddle; let me deal in this.
+
+DON PEDRO	Gentlemen both, we will not wake your patience.
+	My heart is sorry for your daughter's death:
+	But, on my honour, she was charged with nothing
+	But what was true and very full of proof.
+
+LEONATO	My lord, my lord,--
+
+DON PEDRO	I will not hear you.
+
+LEONATO	No? Come, brother; away! I will be heard.
+
+ANTONIO	And shall, or some of us will smart for it.
+
+	[Exeunt LEONATO and ANTONIO]
+
+DON PEDRO	See, see; here comes the man we went to seek.
+
+	[Enter BENEDICK]
+
+CLAUDIO	Now, signior, what news?
+
+BENEDICK	Good day, my lord.
+
+DON PEDRO	Welcome, signior: you are almost come to part
+	almost a fray.
+
+CLAUDIO	We had like to have had our two noses snapped off
+	with two old men without teeth.
+
+DON PEDRO	Leonato and his brother. What thinkest thou? Had
+	we fought, I doubt we should have been too young for them.
+
+BENEDICK	In a false quarrel there is no true valour. I came
+	to seek you both.
+
+CLAUDIO	We have been up and down to seek thee; for we are
+	high-proof melancholy and would fain have it beaten
+	away. Wilt thou use thy wit?
+
+BENEDICK	It is in my scabbard: shall I draw it?
+
+DON PEDRO	Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side?
+
+CLAUDIO	Never any did so, though very many have been beside
+	their wit. I will bid thee draw, as we do the
+	minstrels; draw, to pleasure us.
+
+DON PEDRO	As I am an honest man, he looks pale. Art thou
+	sick, or angry?
+
+CLAUDIO	What, courage, man! What though care killed a cat,
+	thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.
+
+BENEDICK	Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, and you
+	charge it against me. I pray you choose another subject.
+
+CLAUDIO	Nay, then, give him another staff: this last was
+	broke cross.
+
+DON PEDRO	By this light, he changes more and more: I think
+	he be angry indeed.
+
+CLAUDIO	If he be, he knows how to turn his girdle.
+
+BENEDICK	Shall I speak a word in your ear?
+
+CLAUDIO	God bless me from a challenge!
+
+BENEDICK	[Aside to CLAUDIO]  You are a villain; I jest not:
+	I will make it good how you dare, with what you
+	dare, and when you dare. Do me right, or I will
+	protest your cowardice. You have killed a sweet
+	lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you. Let me
+	hear from you.
+
+CLAUDIO	Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.
+
+DON PEDRO	What, a feast, a feast?
+
+CLAUDIO	I' faith, I thank him; he hath bid me to a calf's
+	head and a capon; the which if I do not carve most
+	curiously, say my knife's naught. Shall I not find
+	a woodcock too?
+
+BENEDICK	Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily.
+
+DON PEDRO	I'll tell thee how Beatrice praised thy wit the
+	other day. I said, thou hadst a fine wit: 'True,'
+	said she, 'a fine little one.' 'No,' said I, 'a
+	great wit:' 'Right,' says she, 'a great gross one.'
+	'Nay,' said I, 'a good wit:' 'Just,' said she, 'it
+	hurts nobody.' 'Nay,' said I, 'the gentleman
+	is wise:' 'Certain,' said she, 'a wise gentleman.'
+	'Nay,' said I, 'he hath the tongues:' 'That I
+	believe,' said she, 'for he swore a thing to me on
+	Monday night, which he forswore on Tuesday morning;
+	there's a double tongue; there's two tongues.' Thus
+	did she, an hour together, transshape thy particular
+	virtues: yet at last she concluded with a sigh, thou
+	wast the properest man in Italy.
+
+CLAUDIO	For the which she wept heartily and said she cared
+	not.
+
+DON PEDRO	Yea, that she did: but yet, for all that, an if she
+	did not hate him deadly, she would love him dearly:
+	the old man's daughter told us all.
+
+CLAUDIO	All, all; and, moreover, God saw him when he was
+	hid in the garden.
+
+DON PEDRO	But when shall we set the savage bull's horns on
+	the sensible Benedick's head?
+
+CLAUDIO	Yea, and text underneath, 'Here dwells Benedick the
+	married man'?
+
+BENEDICK	Fare you well, boy: you know my mind. I will leave
+	you now to your gossip-like humour: you break jests
+	as braggarts do their blades, which God be thanked,
+	hurt not. My lord, for your many courtesies I thank
+	you: I must discontinue your company: your brother
+	the bastard is fled from Messina: you have among
+	you killed a sweet and innocent lady. For my Lord
+	Lackbeard there, he and I shall meet: and, till
+	then, peace be with him.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DON PEDRO	He is in earnest.
+
+CLAUDIO	In most profound earnest; and, I'll warrant you, for
+	the love of Beatrice.
+
+DON PEDRO	And hath challenged thee.
+
+CLAUDIO	Most sincerely.
+
+DON PEDRO	What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his
+	doublet and hose and leaves off his wit!
+
+CLAUDIO	He is then a giant to an ape; but then is an ape a
+	doctor to such a man.
+
+DON PEDRO	But, soft you, let me be: pluck up, my heart, and
+	be sad. Did he not say, my brother was fled?
+
+	[Enter DOGBERRY, VERGES, and the Watch, with CONRADE
+	and BORACHIO]
+
+DOGBERRY	Come you, sir: if justice cannot tame you, she
+	shall ne'er weigh more reasons in her balance: nay,
+	an you be a cursing hypocrite once, you must be looked to.
+
+DON PEDRO	How now? two of my brother's men bound! Borachio
+	one!
+
+CLAUDIO	Hearken after their offence, my lord.
+
+DON PEDRO	Officers, what offence have these men done?
+
+DOGBERRY	Marry, sir, they have committed false report;
+	moreover, they have spoken untruths; secondarily,
+	they are slanders; sixth and lastly, they have
+	belied a lady; thirdly, they have verified unjust
+	things; and, to conclude, they are lying knaves.
+
+DON PEDRO	First, I ask thee what they have done; thirdly, I
+	ask thee what's their offence; sixth and lastly, why
+	they are committed; and, to conclude, what you lay
+	to their charge.
+
+CLAUDIO	Rightly reasoned, and in his own division: and, by
+	my troth, there's one meaning well suited.
+
+DON PEDRO	Who have you offended, masters, that you are thus
+	bound to your answer? this learned constable is
+	too cunning to be understood: what's your offence?
+
+BORACHIO	Sweet prince, let me go no farther to mine answer:
+	do you hear me, and let this count kill me. I have
+	deceived even your very eyes: what your wisdoms
+	could not discover, these shallow fools have brought
+	to light: who in the night overheard me confessing
+	to this man how Don John your brother incensed me
+	to slander the Lady Hero, how you were brought into
+	the orchard and saw me court Margaret in Hero's
+	garments, how you disgraced her, when you should
+	marry her: my villany they have upon record; which
+	I had rather seal with my death than repeat over
+	to my shame. The lady is dead upon mine and my
+	master's false accusation; and, briefly, I desire
+	nothing but the reward of a villain.
+
+DON PEDRO	Runs not this speech like iron through your blood?
+
+CLAUDIO	I have drunk poison whiles he utter'd it.
+
+DON PEDRO	But did my brother set thee on to this?
+
+BORACHIO	Yea, and paid me richly for the practise of it.
+
+DON PEDRO	He is composed and framed of treachery:
+	And fled he is upon this villany.
+
+CLAUDIO	Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear
+	In the rare semblance that I loved it first.
+
+DOGBERRY	Come, bring away the plaintiffs: by this time our
+	sexton hath reformed Signior Leonato of the matter:
+	and, masters, do not forget to specify, when time
+	and place shall serve, that I am an ass.
+
+VERGES	Here, here comes master Signior Leonato, and the
+	Sexton too.
+
+	[Re-enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, with the Sexton]
+
+LEONATO	Which is the villain? let me see his eyes,
+	That, when I note another man like him,
+	I may avoid him: which of these is he?
+
+BORACHIO	If you would know your wronger, look on me.
+
+LEONATO	Art thou the slave that with thy breath hast kill'd
+	Mine innocent child?
+
+BORACHIO	Yea, even I alone.
+
+LEONATO	No, not so, villain; thou beliest thyself:
+	Here stand a pair of honourable men;
+	A third is fled, that had a hand in it.
+	I thank you, princes, for my daughter's death:
+	Record it with your high and worthy deeds:
+	'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it.
+
+CLAUDIO	I know not how to pray your patience;
+	Yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself;
+	Impose me to what penance your invention
+	Can lay upon my sin: yet sinn'd I not
+	But in mistaking.
+
+DON PEDRO	                  By my soul, nor I:
+	And yet, to satisfy this good old man,
+	I would bend under any heavy weight
+	That he'll enjoin me to.
+
+LEONATO	I cannot bid you bid my daughter live;
+	That were impossible: but, I pray you both,
+	Possess the people in Messina here
+	How innocent she died; and if your love
+	Can labour ought in sad invention,
+	Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb
+	And sing it to her bones, sing it to-night:
+	To-morrow morning come you to my house,
+	And since you could not be my son-in-law,
+	Be yet my nephew: my brother hath a daughter,
+	Almost the copy of my child that's dead,
+	And she alone is heir to both of us:
+	Give her the right you should have given her cousin,
+	And so dies my revenge.
+
+CLAUDIO	O noble sir,
+	Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me!
+	I do embrace your offer; and dispose
+	For henceforth of poor Claudio.
+
+LEONATO	To-morrow then I will expect your coming;
+	To-night I take my leave. This naughty man
+	Shall face to face be brought to Margaret,
+	Who I believe was pack'd in all this wrong,
+	Hired to it by your brother.
+
+BORACHIO	No, by my soul, she was not,
+	Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me,
+	But always hath been just and virtuous
+	In any thing that I do know by her.
+
+DOGBERRY	Moreover, sir, which indeed is not under white and
+	black, this plaintiff here, the offender, did call
+	me ass: I beseech you, let it be remembered in his
+	punishment. And also, the watch heard them talk of
+	one Deformed: they say be wears a key in his ear and
+	a lock hanging by it, and borrows money in God's
+	name, the which he hath used so long and never paid
+	that now men grow hard-hearted and will lend nothing
+	for God's sake: pray you, examine him upon that point.
+
+LEONATO	I thank thee for thy care and honest pains.
+
+DOGBERRY	Your worship speaks like a most thankful and
+	reverend youth; and I praise God for you.
+
+LEONATO	There's for thy pains.
+
+DOGBERRY	God save the foundation!
+
+LEONATO	Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thank thee.
+
+DOGBERRY	I leave an arrant knave with your worship; which I
+	beseech your worship to correct yourself, for the
+	example of others. God keep your worship! I wish
+	your worship well; God restore you to health! I
+	humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry
+	meeting may be wished, God prohibit it! Come, neighbour.
+
+	[Exeunt DOGBERRY and VERGES]
+
+LEONATO	Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell.
+
+ANTONIO	Farewell, my lords: we look for you to-morrow.
+
+DON PEDRO	We will not fail.
+
+CLAUDIO	                  To-night I'll mourn with Hero.
+
+LEONATO	[To the Watch]  Bring you these fellows on. We'll
+	talk with Margaret,
+	How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow.
+
+	[Exeunt, severally]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	LEONATO'S garden.
+
+
+	[Enter BENEDICK and MARGARET, meeting]
+
+BENEDICK	Pray thee, sweet Mistress Margaret, deserve well at
+	my hands by helping me to the speech of Beatrice.
+
+MARGARET	Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty?
+
+BENEDICK	In so high a style, Margaret, that no man living
+	shall come over it; for, in most comely truth, thou
+	deservest it.
+
+MARGARET	To have no man come over me! why, shall I always
+	keep below stairs?
+
+BENEDICK	Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth; it catches.
+
+MARGARET	And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit,
+	but hurt not.
+
+BENEDICK	A most manly wit, Margaret; it will not hurt a
+	woman: and so, I pray thee, call Beatrice: I give
+	thee the bucklers.
+
+MARGARET	Give us the swords; we have bucklers of our own.
+
+BENEDICK	If you use them, Margaret, you must put in the
+	pikes with a vice; and they are dangerous weapons for maids.
+
+MARGARET	Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who I think hath legs.
+
+BENEDICK	And therefore will come.
+
+	[Exit MARGARET]
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	The god of love,
+	That sits above,
+	And knows me, and knows me,
+	How pitiful I deserve,--
+
+	I mean in singing; but in loving, Leander the good
+	swimmer, Troilus the first employer of panders, and
+	a whole bookful of these quondam carpet-mangers,
+	whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a
+	blank verse, why, they were never so truly turned
+	over and over as my poor self in love. Marry, I
+	cannot show it in rhyme; I have tried: I can find
+	out no rhyme to 'lady' but 'baby,' an innocent
+	rhyme; for 'scorn,' 'horn,' a hard rhyme; for,
+	'school,' 'fool,' a babbling rhyme; very ominous
+	endings: no, I was not born under a rhyming planet,
+	nor I cannot woo in festival terms.
+
+	[Enter BEATRICE]
+
+	Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee?
+
+BEATRICE	Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me.
+
+BENEDICK	O, stay but till then!
+
+BEATRICE	'Then' is spoken; fare you well now: and yet, ere
+	I go, let me go with that I came; which is, with
+	knowing what hath passed between you and Claudio.
+
+BENEDICK	Only foul words; and thereupon I will kiss thee.
+
+BEATRICE	Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but
+	foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I
+	will depart unkissed.
+
+BENEDICK	Thou hast frighted the word out of his right sense,
+	so forcible is thy wit. But I must tell thee
+	plainly, Claudio undergoes my challenge; and either
+	I must shortly hear from him, or I will subscribe
+	him a coward. And, I pray thee now, tell me for
+	which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?
+
+BEATRICE	For them all together; which maintained so politic
+	a state of evil that they will not admit any good
+	part to intermingle with them. But for which of my
+	good parts did you first suffer love for me?
+
+BENEDICK	Suffer love! a good epithet! I do suffer love
+	indeed, for I love thee against my will.
+
+BEATRICE	In spite of your heart, I think; alas, poor heart!
+	If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for
+	yours; for I will never love that which my friend hates.
+
+BENEDICK	Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.
+
+BEATRICE	It appears not in this confession: there's not one
+	wise man among twenty that will praise himself.
+
+BENEDICK	An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived in
+	the lime of good neighbours. If a man do not erect
+	in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live
+	no longer in monument than the bell rings and the
+	widow weeps.
+
+BEATRICE	And how long is that, think you?
+
+BENEDICK	Question: why, an hour in clamour and a quarter in
+	rheum: therefore is it most expedient for the
+	wise, if Don Worm, his conscience, find no
+	impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of his
+	own virtues, as I am to myself. So much for
+	praising myself, who, I myself will bear witness, is
+	praiseworthy: and now tell me, how doth your cousin?
+
+BEATRICE	Very ill.
+
+BENEDICK	And how do you?
+
+BEATRICE	Very ill too.
+
+BENEDICK	Serve God, love me and mend. There will I leave
+	you too, for here comes one in haste.
+
+	[Enter URSULA]
+
+URSULA	Madam, you must come to your uncle. Yonder's old
+	coil at home: it is proved my Lady Hero hath been
+	falsely accused, the prince and Claudio mightily
+	abused; and Don John is the author of all, who is
+	fed and gone. Will you come presently?
+
+BEATRICE	Will you go hear this news, signior?
+
+BENEDICK	I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be
+	buried in thy eyes; and moreover I will go with
+	thee to thy uncle's.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A church.
+
+
+	[Enter DON PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and three or four
+	with tapers]
+
+CLAUDIO	Is this the monument of Leonato?
+
+Lord	It is, my lord.
+
+CLAUDIO	[Reading out of a scroll]
+	Done to death by slanderous tongues
+	Was the Hero that here lies:
+	Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,
+	Gives her fame which never dies.
+	So the life that died with shame
+	Lives in death with glorious fame.
+	Hang thou there upon the tomb,
+	Praising her when I am dumb.
+
+	Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn hymn.
+	SONG.
+
+	Pardon, goddess of the night,
+	Those that slew thy virgin knight;
+	For the which, with songs of woe,
+	Round about her tomb they go.
+	Midnight, assist our moan;
+	Help us to sigh and groan,
+	Heavily, heavily:
+	Graves, yawn and yield your dead,
+	Till death be uttered,
+	Heavily, heavily.
+
+CLAUDIO	     Now, unto thy bones good night!
+	Yearly will I do this rite.
+
+DON PEDRO	Good morrow, masters; put your torches out:
+	The wolves have prey'd; and look, the gentle day,
+	Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about
+	Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey.
+	Thanks to you all, and leave us: fare you well.
+
+CLAUDIO	     Good morrow, masters: each his several way.
+
+DON PEDRO	Come, let us hence, and put on other weeds;
+	And then to Leonato's we will go.
+
+CLAUDIO	And Hymen now with luckier issue speed's
+	Than this for whom we render'd up this woe.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A room in LEONATO'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEATRICE,
+	MARGARET, URSULA, FRIAR FRANCIS, and HERO]
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	Did I not tell you she was innocent?
+
+LEONATO	So are the prince and Claudio, who accused her
+	Upon the error that you heard debated:
+	But Margaret was in some fault for this,
+	Although against her will, as it appears
+	In the true course of all the question.
+
+ANTONIO	Well, I am glad that all things sort so well.
+
+BENEDICK	And so am I, being else by faith enforced
+	To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it.
+
+LEONATO	Well, daughter, and you gentle-women all,
+	Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves,
+	And when I send for you, come hither mask'd.
+
+	[Exeunt Ladies]
+
+	The prince and Claudio promised by this hour
+	To visit me. You know your office, brother:
+	You must be father to your brother's daughter
+	And give her to young Claudio.
+
+ANTONIO	Which I will do with confirm'd countenance.
+
+BENEDICK	Friar, I must entreat your pains, I think.
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	To do what, signior?
+
+BENEDICK	To bind me, or undo me; one of them.
+	Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior,
+	Your niece regards me with an eye of favour.
+
+LEONATO	That eye my daughter lent her: 'tis most true.
+
+BENEDICK	And I do with an eye of love requite her.
+
+LEONATO	The sight whereof I think you had from me,
+	From Claudio and the prince: but what's your will?
+
+BENEDICK	Your answer, sir, is enigmatical:
+	But, for my will, my will is your good will
+	May stand with ours, this day to be conjoin'd
+	In the state of honourable marriage:
+	In which, good friar, I shall desire your help.
+
+LEONATO	My heart is with your liking.
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	And my help.
+	Here comes the prince and Claudio.
+
+	[Enter DON PEDRO and CLAUDIO, and two or
+	three others]
+
+DON PEDRO	Good morrow to this fair assembly.
+
+LEONATO	Good morrow, prince; good morrow, Claudio:
+	We here attend you. Are you yet determined
+	To-day to marry with my brother's daughter?
+
+CLAUDIO	I'll hold my mind, were she an Ethiope.
+
+LEONATO	Call her forth, brother; here's the friar ready.
+
+	[Exit ANTONIO]
+
+DON PEDRO	Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what's the matter,
+	That you have such a February face,
+	So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?
+
+CLAUDIO	I think he thinks upon the savage bull.
+	Tush, fear not, man; we'll tip thy horns with gold
+	And all Europa shall rejoice at thee,
+	As once Europa did at lusty Jove,
+	When he would play the noble beast in love.
+
+BENEDICK	Bull Jove, sir, had an amiable low;
+	And some such strange bull leap'd your father's cow,
+	And got a calf in that same noble feat
+	Much like to you, for you have just his bleat.
+
+CLAUDIO	For this I owe you: here comes other reckonings.
+
+	[Re-enter ANTONIO, with the Ladies masked]
+
+	Which is the lady I must seize upon?
+
+ANTONIO	This same is she, and I do give you her.
+
+CLAUDIO	Why, then she's mine. Sweet, let me see your face.
+
+LEONATO	No, that you shall not, till you take her hand
+	Before this friar and swear to marry her.
+
+CLAUDIO	Give me your hand: before this holy friar,
+	I am your husband, if you like of me.
+
+HERO	And when I lived, I was your other wife:
+
+	[Unmasking]
+
+	And when you loved, you were my other husband.
+
+CLAUDIO	Another Hero!
+
+HERO	                  Nothing certainer:
+	One Hero died defiled, but I do live,
+	And surely as I live, I am a maid.
+
+DON PEDRO	The former Hero! Hero that is dead!
+
+LEONATO	She died, my lord, but whiles her slander lived.
+
+FRIAR FRANCIS	All this amazement can I qualify:
+	When after that the holy rites are ended,
+	I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death:
+	Meantime let wonder seem familiar,
+	And to the chapel let us presently.
+
+BENEDICK	Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice?
+
+BEATRICE	[Unmasking]  I answer to that name. What is your will?
+
+BENEDICK	Do not you love me?
+
+BEATRICE	Why, no; no more than reason.
+
+BENEDICK	Why, then your uncle and the prince and Claudio
+	Have been deceived; they swore you did.
+
+BEATRICE	Do not you love me?
+
+BENEDICK	Troth, no; no more than reason.
+
+BEATRICE	Why, then my cousin Margaret and Ursula
+	Are much deceived; for they did swear you did.
+
+BENEDICK	They swore that you were almost sick for me.
+
+BEATRICE	They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.
+
+BENEDICK	'Tis no such matter. Then you do not love me?
+
+BEATRICE	No, truly, but in friendly recompense.
+
+LEONATO	Come, cousin, I am sure you love the gentleman.
+
+CLAUDIO	And I'll be sworn upon't that he loves her;
+	For here's a paper written in his hand,
+	A halting sonnet of his own pure brain,
+	Fashion'd to Beatrice.
+
+HERO	And here's another
+	Writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket,
+	Containing her affection unto Benedick.
+
+BENEDICK	A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts.
+	Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take
+	thee for pity.
+
+BEATRICE	I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield
+	upon great persuasion; and partly to save your life,
+	for I was told you were in a consumption.
+
+BENEDICK	Peace! I will stop your mouth.
+
+	[Kissing her]
+
+DON PEDRO	How dost thou, Benedick, the married man?
+
+BENEDICK	I'll tell thee what, prince; a college of
+	wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humour. Dost
+	thou think I  care for a satire or an epigram? No:
+	if a man will be beaten with brains, a' shall wear
+	nothing handsome about him. In brief, since I do
+	purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any
+	purpose that the world can say against it; and
+	therefore never flout at me for what I have said
+	against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my
+	conclusion. For thy part, Claudio, I did think to
+	have beaten thee, but in that thou art like to be my
+	kinsman, live unbruised and love my cousin.
+
+CLAUDIO	I had well hoped thou wouldst have denied Beatrice,
+	that I might have cudgelled thee out of thy single
+	life, to make thee a double-dealer; which, out of
+	question, thou wilt be, if my cousin do not look
+	exceedingly narrowly to thee.
+
+BENEDICK	Come, come, we are friends: let's have a dance ere
+	we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts
+	and our wives' heels.
+
+LEONATO	We'll have dancing afterward.
+
+BENEDICK	First, of my word; therefore play, music. Prince,
+	thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife:
+	there is no staff more reverend than one tipped with horn.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	My lord, your brother John is ta'en in flight,
+	And brought with armed men back to Messina.
+
+BENEDICK	Think not on him till to-morrow:
+	I'll devise thee brave punishments for him.
+	Strike up, pipers.
+
+	[Dance]
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+ANTIOCHUS	king of Antioch.
+
+PERICLES	prince of Tyre.
+
+
+HELICANUS	|
+	|  two lords of Tyre.
+ESCANES	|
+
+
+SIMONIDES	king of Pentapolis.
+
+CLEON	governor of Tarsus.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	governor of Mytilene.
+
+CERIMON	a lord of Ephesus.
+
+THALIARD	a lord of Antioch.
+
+PHILEMON	servant to Cerimon.
+
+LEONINE	servant to Dionyza.
+
+	Marshal. (Marshal:)
+
+	A Pandar. (Pandar:)
+
+BOULT	his servant.
+
+	The Daughter of Antiochus. (Daughter:)
+
+DIONYZA	wife to Cleon.
+
+THAISA	daughter to Simonides.
+
+MARINA	daughter to Pericles and Thaisa.
+
+LYCHORIDA	nurse to Marina.
+
+	A Bawd. (Bawd:)
+
+	Lords, Knights, Gentlemen, Sailors, Pirates,
+	Fishermen, and Messengers. (Lord:)
+	(First Lord:)
+	(Second Lord:)
+	(Third Lord:)
+	(First Knight:)
+	(Second Knight:)
+	(Third Knight:)
+	(First Gentleman:)
+	(Second Gentleman:)
+	(First Sailor:)
+	(Second Sailor:)
+	(First Pirate:)
+	(Second Pirate:)
+	(Third Pirate:)
+	(First Fisherman:)
+	(Second Fisherman:)
+	(Third Fisherman:)
+	(Messenger:)
+
+DIANA:
+
+GOWER	as Chorus.
+
+
+
+SCENE	Dispersedly in various countries.
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+	[Enter GOWER]
+
+	[Before the palace of Antioch]
+
+	To sing a song that old was sung,
+	From ashes ancient Gower is come;
+	Assuming man's infirmities,
+	To glad your ear, and please your eyes.
+	It hath been sung at festivals,
+	On ember-eves and holy-ales;
+	And lords and ladies in their lives
+	Have read it for restoratives:
+	The purchase is to make men glorious;
+	Et bonum quo antiquius, eo melius.
+	If you, born in these latter times,
+	When wit's more ripe, accept my rhymes.
+	And that to hear an old man sing
+	May to your wishes pleasure bring
+	I life would wish, and that I might
+	Waste it for you, like taper-light.
+	This Antioch, then, Antiochus the Great
+	Built up, this city, for his chiefest seat:
+	The fairest in all Syria,
+	I tell you what mine authors say:
+	This king unto him took a fere,
+	Who died and left a female heir,
+	So buxom, blithe, and full of face,
+	As heaven had lent her all his grace;
+	With whom the father liking took,
+	And her to incest did provoke:
+	Bad child; worse father! to entice his own
+	To evil should be done by none:
+	But custom what they did begin
+	Was with long use account no sin.
+	The beauty of this sinful dame
+	Made many princes thither frame,
+	To seek her as a bed-fellow,
+	In marriage-pleasures play-fellow:
+	Which to prevent he made a law,
+	To keep her still, and men in awe,
+	That whoso ask'd her for his wife,
+	His riddle told not, lost his life:
+	So for her many a wight did die,
+	As yon grim looks do testify.
+	What now ensues, to the judgment of your eye
+	I give, my cause who best can justify.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Antioch. A room in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter ANTIOCHUS, Prince PERICLES, and followers]
+
+ANTIOCHUS	Young prince of Tyre, you have at large received
+	The danger of the task you undertake.
+
+PERICLES	I have, Antiochus, and, with a soul
+	Embolden'd with the glory of her praise,
+	Think death no hazard in this enterprise.
+
+ANTIOCHUS	Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride,
+	For the embracements even of Jove himself;
+	At whose conception, till Lucina reign'd,
+	Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence,
+	The senate-house of planets all did sit,
+	To knit in her their best perfections.
+
+	[Music. Enter the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS]
+
+PERICLES	See where she comes, apparell'd like the spring,
+	Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king
+	Of every virtue gives renown to men!
+	Her face the book of praises, where is read
+	Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence
+	Sorrow were ever razed and testy wrath
+	Could never be her mild companion.
+	You gods that made me man, and sway in love,
+	That have inflamed desire in my breast
+	To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree,
+	Or die in the adventure, be my helps,
+	As I am son and servant to your will,
+	To compass such a boundless happiness!
+
+ANTIOCHUS	Prince Pericles,--
+
+PERICLES	That would be son to great Antiochus.
+
+ANTIOCHUS	Before thee stands this fair Hesperides,
+	With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch'd;
+	For death-like dragons here affright thee hard:
+	Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view
+	Her countless glory, which desert must gain;
+	And which, without desert, because thine eye
+	Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die.
+	Yon sometimes famous princes, like thyself,
+	Drawn by report, adventurous by desire,
+	Tell thee, with speechless tongues and semblance pale,
+	That without covering, save yon field of stars,
+	Here they stand martyrs, slain in Cupid's wars;
+	And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist
+	For going on death's net, whom none resist.
+
+PERICLES	Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught
+	My frail mortality to know itself,
+	And by those fearful objects to prepare
+	This body, like to them, to what I must;
+	For death remember'd should be like a mirror,
+	Who tells us life's but breath, to trust it error.
+	I'll make my will then, and, as sick men do
+	Who know the world, see heaven, but, feeling woe,
+	Gripe not at earthly joys as erst they did;
+	So I bequeath a happy peace to you
+	And all good men, as every prince should do;
+	My riches to the earth from whence they came;
+	But my unspotted fire of love to you.
+
+	[To the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS]
+
+	Thus ready for the way of life or death,
+	I wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus.
+
+ANTIOCHUS	Scorning advice, read the conclusion then:
+	Which read and not expounded, 'tis decreed,
+	As these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed.
+
+Daughter	Of all say'd yet, mayst thou prove prosperous!
+	Of all say'd yet, I wish thee happiness!
+
+PERICLES	Like a bold champion, I assume the lists,
+	Nor ask advice of any other thought
+	But faithfulness and courage.
+
+	[He reads the riddle]
+
+	I am no viper, yet I feed
+	On mother's flesh which did me breed.
+	I sought a husband, in which labour
+	I found that kindness in a father:
+	He's father, son, and husband mild;
+	I mother, wife, and yet his child.
+	How they may be, and yet in two,
+	As you will live, resolve it you.
+
+	Sharp physic is the last: but, O you powers
+	That give heaven countless eyes to view men's acts,
+	Why cloud they not their sights perpetually,
+	If this be true, which makes me pale to read it?
+	Fair glass of light, I loved you, and could still,
+
+	[Takes hold of the hand of the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS]
+
+	Were not this glorious casket stored with ill:
+	But I must tell you, now my thoughts revolt
+	For he's no man on whom perfections wait
+	That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate.
+	You are a fair viol, and your sense the strings;
+	Who, finger'd to make man his lawful music,
+	Would draw heaven down, and all the gods, to hearken:
+	But being play'd upon before your time,
+	Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime.
+	Good sooth, I care not for you.
+
+ANTIOCHUS	Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life.
+	For that's an article within our law,
+	As dangerous as the rest. Your time's expired:
+	Either expound now, or receive your sentence.
+
+PERICLES	Great king,
+	Few love to hear the sins they love to act;
+	'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.
+	Who has a book of all that monarchs do,
+	He's more secure to keep it shut than shown:
+	For vice repeated is like the wandering wind.
+	Blows dust in other's eyes, to spread itself;
+	And yet the end of all is bought thus dear,
+	The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear:
+	To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts
+	Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is throng'd
+	By man's oppression; and the poor worm doth die for't.
+	Kings are earth's gods; in vice their law's
+	their will;
+	And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill?
+	It is enough you know; and it is fit,
+	What being more known grows worse, to smother it.
+	All love the womb that their first being bred,
+	Then give my tongue like leave to love my head.
+
+ANTIOCHUS	[Aside]  Heaven, that I had thy head! he has found
+	the meaning:
+	But I will gloze with him.--Young prince of Tyre,
+	Though by the tenor of our strict edict,
+	Your exposition misinterpreting,
+	We might proceed to cancel of your days;
+	Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree
+	As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise:
+	Forty days longer we do respite you;
+	If by which time our secret be undone,
+	This mercy shows we'll joy in such a son:
+	And until then your entertain shall be
+	As doth befit our honour and your worth.
+
+	[Exeunt all but PERICLES]
+
+PERICLES	How courtesy would seem to cover sin,
+	When what is done is like an hypocrite,
+	The which is good in nothing but in sight!
+	If it be true that I interpret false,
+	Then were it certain you were not so bad
+	As with foul incest to abuse your soul;
+	Where now you're both a father and a son,
+	By your untimely claspings with your child,
+	Which pleasure fits an husband, not a father;
+	And she an eater of her mother's flesh,
+	By the defiling of her parent's bed;
+	And both like serpents are, who though they feed
+	On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed.
+	Antioch, farewell! for wisdom sees, those men
+	Blush not in actions blacker than the night,
+	Will shun no course to keep them from the light.
+	One sin, I know, another doth provoke;
+	Murder's as near to lust as flame to smoke:
+	Poison and treason are the hands of sin,
+	Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame:
+	Then, lest my lie be cropp'd to keep you clear,
+	By flight I'll shun the danger which I fear.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter ANTIOCHUS]
+
+ANTIOCHUS	He hath found the meaning, for which we mean
+	To have his head.
+	He must not live to trumpet forth my infamy,
+	Nor tell the world Antiochus doth sin
+	In such a loathed manner;
+	And therefore instantly this prince must die:
+	For by his fall my honour must keep high.
+	Who attends us there?
+
+	[Enter THALIARD]
+
+THALIARD	Doth your highness call?
+
+ANTIOCHUS	Thaliard,
+	You are of our chamber, and our mind partakes
+	Her private actions to your secrecy;
+	And for your faithfulness we will advance you.
+	Thaliard, behold, here's poison, and here's gold;
+	We hate the prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him:
+	It fits thee not to ask the reason why,
+	Because we bid it. Say, is it done?
+
+THALIARD	My lord,
+	'Tis done.
+
+ANTIOCHUS	         Enough.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+	Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.
+
+Messenger	My lord, prince Pericles is fled.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ANTIOCHUS	As thou
+	Wilt live, fly after: and like an arrow shot
+	From a well-experienced archer hits the mark
+	His eye doth level at, so thou ne'er return
+	Unless thou say 'Prince Pericles is dead.'
+
+THALIARD	My lord,
+	If I can get him within my pistol's length,
+	I'll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness.
+
+ANTIOCHUS	Thaliard, adieu!
+
+	[Exit THALIARD]
+
+	Till Pericles be dead,
+	My heart can lend no succor to my head.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Tyre. A room in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter PERICLES]
+
+PERICLES	[To Lords without]  Let none disturb us.--Why should
+	this change of thoughts,
+	The sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy,
+	Be my so used a guest as not an hour,
+	In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night,
+	The tomb where grief should sleep, can breed me quiet?
+	Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun them,
+	And danger, which I fear'd, is at Antioch,
+	Whose aim seems far too short to hit me here:
+	Yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits,
+	Nor yet the other's distance comfort me.
+	Then it is thus: the passions of the mind,
+	That have their first conception by mis-dread,
+	Have after-nourishment and life by care;
+	And what was first but fear what might be done,
+	Grows elder now and cares it be not done.
+	And so with me: the great Antiochus,
+	'Gainst whom I am too little to contend,
+	Since he's so great can make his will his act,
+	Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence;
+	Nor boots it me to say I honour him.
+	If he suspect I may dishonour him:
+	And what may make him blush in being known,
+	He'll stop the course by which it might be known;
+	With hostile forces he'll o'erspread the land,
+	And with the ostent of war will look so huge,
+	Amazement shall drive courage from the state;
+	Our men be vanquish'd ere they do resist,
+	And subjects punish'd that ne'er thought offence:
+	Which care of them, not pity of myself,
+	Who am no more but as the tops of trees,
+	Which fence the roots they grow by and defend them,
+	Makes both my body pine and soul to languish,
+	And punish that before that he would punish.
+
+	[Enter HELICANUS, with other Lords]
+
+First Lord	Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast!
+
+Second Lord	And keep your mind, till you return to us,
+	Peaceful and comfortable!
+
+HELICANUS	Peace, peace, and give experience tongue.
+	They do abuse the king that flatter him:
+	For flattery is the bellows blows up sin;
+	The thing which is flatter'd, but a spark,
+	To which that blast gives heat and stronger glowing;
+	Whereas reproof, obedient and in order,
+	Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err.
+	When Signior Sooth here does proclaim a peace,
+	He flatters you, makes war upon your life.
+	Prince, pardon me, or strike me, if you please;
+	I cannot be much lower than my knees.
+
+PERICLES	All leave us else; but let your cares o'erlook
+	What shipping and what lading's in our haven,
+	And then return to us.
+
+	[Exeunt Lords]
+
+		 Helicanus, thou
+	Hast moved us: what seest thou in our looks?
+
+HELICANUS	An angry brow, dread lord.
+
+PERICLES	If there be such a dart in princes' frowns,
+	How durst thy tongue move anger to our face?
+
+HELICANUS	How dare the plants look up to heaven, from whence
+	They have their nourishment?
+
+PERICLES	Thou know'st I have power
+	To take thy life from thee.
+
+HELICANUS	[Kneeling]
+
+		     I have ground the axe myself;
+	Do you but strike the blow.
+
+PERICLES	Rise, prithee, rise.
+	Sit down: thou art no flatterer:
+	I thank thee for it; and heaven forbid
+	That kings should let their ears hear their
+	faults hid!
+	Fit counsellor and servant for a prince,
+	Who by thy wisdom makest a prince thy servant,
+	What wouldst thou have me do?
+
+HELICANUS	To bear with patience
+	Such griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself.
+
+PERICLES	Thou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus,
+	That minister'st a potion unto me
+	That thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself.
+	Attend me, then: I went to Antioch,
+	Where as thou know'st, against the face of death,
+	I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty.
+	From whence an issue I might propagate,
+	Are arms to princes, and bring joys to subjects.
+	Her face was to mine eye beyond all wonder;
+	The rest--hark in thine ear--as black as incest:
+	Which by my knowledge found, the sinful father
+	Seem'd not to strike, but smooth: but thou
+	know'st this,
+	'Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.
+	Such fear so grew in me, I hither fled,
+	Under the covering of a careful night,
+	Who seem'd my good protector; and, being here,
+	Bethought me what was past, what might succeed.
+	I knew him tyrannous; and tyrants' fears
+	Decrease not, but grow faster than the years:
+	And should he doubt it, as no doubt he doth,
+	That I should open to the listening air
+	How many worthy princes' bloods were shed,
+	To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope,
+	To lop that doubt, he'll fill this land with arms,
+	And make pretence of wrong that I have done him:
+	When all, for mine, if I may call offence,
+	Must feel war's blow, who spares not innocence:
+	Which love to all, of which thyself art one,
+	Who now reprovest me for it,--
+
+HELICANUS	Alas, sir!
+
+PERICLES	Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my cheeks,
+	Musings into my mind, with thousand doubts
+	How I might stop this tempest ere it came;
+	And finding little comfort to relieve them,
+	I thought it princely charity to grieve them.
+
+HELICANUS	Well, my lord, since you have given me leave to speak.
+	Freely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,
+	And justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,
+	Who either by public war or private treason
+	Will take away your life.
+	Therefore, my lord, go travel for a while,
+	Till that his rage and anger be forgot,
+	Or till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.
+	Your rule direct to any; if to me.
+	Day serves not light more faithful than I'll be.
+
+PERICLES	I do not doubt thy faith;
+	But should he wrong my liberties in my absence?
+
+HELICANUS	We'll mingle our bloods together in the earth,
+	From whence we had our being and our birth.
+
+PERICLES	Tyre, I now look from thee then, and to Tarsus
+	Intend my travel, where I'll hear from thee;
+	And by whose letters I'll dispose myself.
+	The care I had and have of subjects' good
+	On thee I lay whose wisdom's strength can bear it.
+	I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath:
+	Who shuns not to break one will sure crack both:
+	But in our orbs we'll live so round and safe,
+	That time of both this truth shall ne'er convince,
+	Thou show'dst a subject's shine, I a true prince.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Tyre. An ante-chamber in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter THALIARD]
+
+THALIARD	So, this is Tyre, and this the court. Here must I
+	kill King Pericles; and if I do it not, I am sure to
+	be hanged at home: 'tis dangerous. Well, I perceive
+	he was a wise fellow, and had good discretion, that,
+	being bid to ask what he would of the king, desired
+	he might know none of his secrets: now do I see he
+	had some reason for't; for if a king bid a man be a
+	villain, he's bound by the indenture of his oath to
+	be one! Hush! here come the lords of Tyre.
+
+	[Enter HELICANUS and ESCANES, with other Lords of Tyre]
+
+HELICANUS	You shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre,
+	Further to question me of your king's departure:
+	His seal'd commission, left in trust with me,
+	Doth speak sufficiently he's gone to travel.
+
+THALIARD	[Aside]  How! the king gone!
+
+HELICANUS	If further yet you will be satisfied,
+	Why, as it were unlicensed of your loves,
+	He would depart, I'll give some light unto you.
+	Being at Antioch--
+
+THALIARD	[Aside]          What from Antioch?
+
+HELICANUS	Royal Antiochus--on what cause I know not--
+	Took some displeasure at him; at least he judged so:
+	And doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd,
+	To show his sorrow, he'ld correct himself;
+	So puts himself unto the shipman's toil,
+	With whom each minute threatens life or death.
+
+THALIARD	[Aside]  Well, I perceive
+	I shall not be hang'd now, although I would;
+	But since he's gone, the king's seas must please:
+	He 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.
+	I'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!
+
+HELICANUS	Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.
+
+THALIARD	From him I come
+	With message unto princely Pericles;
+	But since my landing I have understood
+	Your lord has betook himself to unknown travels,
+	My message must return from whence it came.
+
+HELICANUS	We have no reason to desire it,
+	Commended to our master, not to us:
+	Yet, ere you shall depart, this we desire,
+	As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Tarsus. A room in the Governor's house.
+
+
+	[Enter CLEON, the governor of Tarsus, with DIONYZA,
+	and others]
+
+CLEON	My Dionyza, shall we rest us here,
+	And by relating tales of others' griefs,
+	See if 'twill teach us to forget our own?
+
+DIONYZA	That were to blow at fire in hope to quench it;
+	For who digs hills because they do aspire
+	Throws down one mountain to cast up a higher.
+	O my distressed lord, even such our griefs are;
+	Here they're but felt, and seen with mischief's eyes,
+	But like to groves, being topp'd, they higher rise.
+
+CLEON	O Dionyza,
+	Who wanteth food, and will not say he wants it,
+	Or can conceal his hunger till he famish?
+	Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep
+	Our woes into the air; our eyes do weep,
+	Till tongues fetch breath that may proclaim them louder;
+	That, if heaven slumber while their creatures want,
+	They may awake their helps to comfort them.
+	I'll then discourse our woes, felt several years,
+	And wanting breath to speak help me with tears.
+
+DIONYZA	I'll do my best, sir.
+
+CLEON	This Tarsus, o'er which I have the government,
+	A city on whom plenty held full hand,
+	For riches strew'd herself even in the streets;
+	Whose towers bore heads so high they kiss'd the clouds,
+	And strangers ne'er beheld but wondered at;
+	Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn'd,
+	Like one another's glass to trim them by:
+	Their tables were stored full, to glad the sight,
+	And not so much to feed on as delight;
+	All poverty was scorn'd, and pride so great,
+	The name of help grew odious to repeat.
+
+DIONYZA	O, 'tis too true.
+
+CLEON	But see what heaven can do! By this our change,
+	These mouths, who but of late, earth, sea, and air,
+	Were all too little to content and please,
+	Although they gave their creatures in abundance,
+	As houses are defiled for want of use,
+	They are now starved for want of exercise:
+	Those palates who, not yet two summers younger,
+	Must have inventions to delight the taste,
+	Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it:
+	Those mothers who, to nousle up their babes,
+	Thought nought too curious, are ready now
+	To eat those little darlings whom they loved.
+	So sharp are hunger's teeth, that man and wife
+	Draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life:
+	Here stands a lord, and there a lady weeping;
+	Here many sink, yet those which see them fall
+	Have scarce strength left to give them burial.
+	Is not this true?
+
+DIONYZA	Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it.
+
+CLEON	O, let those cities that of plenty's cup
+	And her prosperities so largely taste,
+	With their superfluous riots, hear these tears!
+	The misery of Tarsus may be theirs.
+
+	[Enter a Lord]
+
+Lord	Where's the lord governor?
+
+CLEON	Here.
+	Speak out thy sorrows which thou bring'st in haste,
+	For comfort is too far for us to expect.
+
+Lord	We have descried, upon our neighbouring shore,
+	A portly sail of ships make hitherward.
+
+CLEON	I thought as much.
+	One sorrow never comes but brings an heir,
+	That may succeed as his inheritor;
+	And so in ours: some neighbouring nation,
+	Taking advantage of our misery,
+	Hath stuff'd these hollow vessels with their power,
+	To beat us down, the which are down already;
+	And make a conquest of unhappy me,
+	Whereas no glory's got to overcome.
+
+Lord	That's the least fear; for, by the semblance
+	Of their white flags display'd, they bring us peace,
+	And come to us as favourers, not as foes.
+
+CLEON	Thou speak'st like him's untutor'd to repeat:
+	Who makes the fairest show means most deceit.
+	But bring they what they will and what they can,
+	What need we fear?
+	The ground's the lowest, and we are half way there.
+	Go tell their general we attend him here,
+	To know for what he comes, and whence he comes,
+	And what he craves.
+
+Lord	I go, my lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CLEON	Welcome is peace, if he on peace consist;
+	If wars, we are unable to resist.
+
+	[Enter PERICLES with Attendants]
+
+PERICLES	Lord governor, for so we hear you are,
+	Let not our ships and number of our men
+	Be like a beacon fired to amaze your eyes.
+	We have heard your miseries as far as Tyre,
+	And seen the desolation of your streets:
+	Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears,
+	But to relieve them of their heavy load;
+	And these our ships, you happily may think
+	Are like the Trojan horse was stuff'd within
+	With bloody veins, expecting overthrow,
+	Are stored with corn to make your needy bread,
+	And give them life whom hunger starved half dead.
+
+All	The gods of Greece protect you!
+	And we'll pray for you.
+
+PERICLES	Arise, I pray you, rise:
+	We do not look for reverence, but to love,
+	And harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men.
+
+CLEON	The which when any shall not gratify,
+	Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought,
+	Be it our wives, our children, or ourselves,
+	The curse of heaven and men succeed their evils!
+	Till when,--the which I hope shall ne'er be seen,--
+	Your grace is welcome to our town and us.
+
+PERICLES	Which welcome we'll accept; feast here awhile,
+	Until our stars that frown lend us a smile.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+	[Enter GOWER]
+
+GOWER	Here have you seen a mighty king
+	His child, I wis, to incest bring;
+	A better prince and benign lord,
+	That will prove awful both in deed and word.
+	Be quiet then as men should be,
+	Till he hath pass'd necessity.
+	I'll show you those in troubles reign,
+	Losing a mite, a mountain gain.
+	The good in conversation,
+	To whom I give my benison,
+	Is still at Tarsus, where each man
+	Thinks all is writ he speken can;
+	And, to remember what he does,
+	Build his statue to make him glorious:
+	But tidings to the contrary
+	Are brought your eyes; what need speak I?
+
+	DUMB SHOW.
+
+	[Enter at one door PERICLES talking with CLEON; all
+	the train with them. Enter at another door a
+	Gentleman, with a letter to PERICLES; PERICLES
+	shows the letter to CLEON; gives the Messenger a
+	reward, and knights him. Exit PERICLES at one
+	door, and CLEON at another]
+
+	Good Helicane, that stay'd at home,
+	Not to eat honey like a drone
+	From others' labours; for though he strive
+	To killen bad, keep good alive;
+	And to fulfil his prince' desire,
+	Sends word of all that haps in Tyre:
+	How Thaliard came full bent with sin
+	And had intent to murder him;
+	And that in Tarsus was not best
+	Longer for him to make his rest.
+	He, doing so, put forth to seas,
+	Where when men been, there's seldom ease;
+	For now the wind begins to blow;
+	Thunder above and deeps below
+	Make such unquiet, that the ship
+	Should house him safe is wreck'd and split;
+	And he, good prince, having all lost,
+	By waves from coast to coast is tost:
+	All perishen of man, of pelf,
+	Ne aught escapen but himself;
+	Till fortune, tired with doing bad,
+	Threw him ashore, to give him glad:
+	And here he comes. What shall be next,
+	Pardon old Gower,--this longs the text.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.
+
+
+	[Enter PERICLES, wet]
+
+PERICLES	Yet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!
+	Wind, rain, and thunder, remember, earthly man
+	Is but a substance that must yield to you;
+	And I, as fits my nature, do obey you:
+	Alas, the sea hath cast me on the rocks,
+	Wash'd me from shore to shore, and left me breath
+	Nothing to think on but ensuing death:
+	Let it suffice the greatness of your powers
+	To have bereft a prince of all his fortunes;
+	And having thrown him from your watery grave,
+	Here to have death in peace is all he'll crave.
+
+	[Enter three FISHERMEN]
+
+First Fisherman	What, ho, Pilch!
+
+Second Fisherman	Ha, come and bring away the nets!
+
+First Fisherman	What, Patch-breech, I say!
+
+Third Fisherman	What say you, master?
+
+First Fisherman	Look how thou stirrest now! come away, or I'll
+	fetch thee with a wanion.
+
+Third Fisherman	Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that
+	were cast away before us even now.
+
+First Fisherman	Alas, poor souls, it grieved my heart to hear what
+	pitiful cries they made to us to help them, when,
+	well-a-day, we could scarce help ourselves.
+
+Third Fisherman	Nay, master, said not I as much when I saw the
+	porpus how he bounced and tumbled? they say
+	they're half fish, half flesh: a plague on them,
+	they ne'er come but I look to be washed. Master, I
+	marvel how the fishes live in the sea.
+
+First Fisherman	Why, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the
+	little ones: I can compare our rich misers to
+	nothing so fitly as to a whale; a' plays and
+	tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at
+	last devours them all at a mouthful: such whales
+	have I heard on o' the land, who never leave gaping
+	till they've swallowed the whole parish, church,
+	steeple, bells, and all.
+
+PERICLES	[Aside]  A pretty moral.
+
+Third Fisherman	But, master, if I had been the sexton, I would have
+	been that day in the belfry.
+
+Second Fisherman	Why, man?
+
+Third Fisherman	Because he should have swallowed me too: and when I
+	had been in his belly, I would have kept such a
+	jangling of the bells, that he should never have
+	left, till he cast bells, steeple, church, and
+	parish up again. But if the good King Simonides
+	were of my mind,--
+
+PERICLES	[Aside]  Simonides!
+
+Third Fisherman	We would purge the land of these drones, that rob
+	the bee of her honey.
+
+PERICLES	[Aside]  How from the finny subject of the sea
+	These fishers tell the infirmities of men;
+	And from their watery empire recollect
+	All that may men approve or men detect!
+	Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen.
+
+Second Fisherman	Honest! good fellow, what's that? If it be a day
+	fits you, search out of the calendar, and nobody
+	look after it.
+
+PERICLES	May see the sea hath cast upon your coast.
+
+Second Fisherman	What a drunken knave was the sea to cast thee in our
+	way!
+
+PERICLES	A man whom both the waters and the wind,
+	In that vast tennis-court, have made the ball
+	For them to play upon, entreats you pity him:
+	He asks of you, that never used to beg.
+
+First Fisherman	No, friend, cannot you beg? Here's them in our
+	country Greece gets more with begging than we can do
+	with working.
+
+Second Fisherman	Canst thou catch any fishes, then?
+
+PERICLES	I never practised it.
+
+Second Fisherman	Nay, then thou wilt starve, sure; for here's nothing
+	to be got now-a-days, unless thou canst fish for't.
+
+PERICLES	What I have been I have forgot to know;
+	But what I am, want teaches me to think on:
+	A man throng'd up with cold: my veins are chill,
+	And have no more of life than may suffice
+	To give my tongue that heat to ask your help;
+	Which if you shall refuse, when I am dead,
+	For that I am a man, pray see me buried.
+
+First Fisherman	Die quoth-a? Now gods forbid! I have a gown here;
+	come, put it on; keep thee warm. Now, afore me, a
+	handsome fellow! Come, thou shalt go home, and
+	we'll have flesh for holidays, fish for
+	fasting-days, and moreo'er puddings and flap-jacks,
+	and thou shalt be welcome.
+
+PERICLES	I thank you, sir.
+
+Second Fisherman	Hark you, my friend; you said you could not beg.
+
+PERICLES	I did but crave.
+
+Second Fisherman	But crave! Then I'll turn craver too, and so I
+	shall 'scape whipping.
+
+PERICLES	Why, are all your beggars whipped, then?
+
+Second Fisherman	O, not all, my friend, not all; for if all your
+	beggars were whipped, I would wish no better office
+	than to be beadle. But, master, I'll go draw up the
+	net.
+
+	[Exit with Third Fisherman]
+
+PERICLES	[Aside]  How well this honest mirth becomes their labour!
+
+First Fisherman	Hark you, sir, do you know where ye are?
+
+PERICLES	Not well.
+
+First Fisherman	Why, I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and
+	our king the good Simonides.
+
+PERICLES	The good King Simonides, do you call him.
+
+First Fisherman	Ay, sir; and he deserves so to be called for his
+	peaceable reign and good government.
+
+PERICLES	He is a happy king, since he gains from his subjects
+	the name of good by his government. How far is his
+	court distant from this shore?
+
+First Fisherman	Marry, sir, half a day's journey: and I'll tell
+	you, he hath a fair daughter, and to-morrow is her
+	birth-day; and there are princes and knights come
+	from all parts of the world to just and tourney for her love.
+
+PERICLES	Were my fortunes equal to my desires, I could wish
+	to make one there.
+
+First Fisherman	O, sir, things must be as they may; and what a man
+	cannot get, he may lawfully deal for--his wife's soul.
+
+	[Re-enter Second and Third Fishermen, drawing up a net]
+
+Second Fisherman	Help, master, help! here's a fish hangs in the net,
+	like a poor man's right in the law; 'twill hardly
+	come out. Ha! bots on't, 'tis come at last, and
+	'tis turned to a rusty armour.
+
+PERICLES	An armour, friends! I pray you, let me see it.
+	Thanks, fortune, yet, that, after all my crosses,
+	Thou givest me somewhat to repair myself;
+	And though it was mine own, part of my heritage,
+	Which my dead father did bequeath to me.
+	With this strict charge, even as he left his life,
+	'Keep it, my Pericles; it hath been a shield
+	Twixt me and death;'--and pointed to this brace;--
+	'For that it saved me, keep it; in like necessity--
+	The which the gods protect thee from!--may
+	defend thee.'
+	It kept where I kept, I so dearly loved it;
+	Till the rough seas, that spare not any man,
+	Took it in rage, though calm'd have given't again:
+	I thank thee for't: my shipwreck now's no ill,
+	Since I have here my father's gift in's will.
+
+First Fisherman	What mean you, sir?
+
+PERICLES	To beg of you, kind friends, this coat of worth,
+	For it was sometime target to a king;
+	I know it by this mark. He loved me dearly,
+	And for his sake I wish the having of it;
+	And that you'ld guide me to your sovereign's court,
+	Where with it I may appear a gentleman;
+	And if that ever my low fortune's better,
+	I'll pay your bounties; till then rest your debtor.
+
+First Fisherman	Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady?
+
+PERICLES	I'll show the virtue I have borne in arms.
+
+First Fisherman	Why, do 'e take it, and the gods give thee good on't!
+
+Second Fisherman	Ay, but hark you, my friend; 'twas we that made up
+	this garment through the rough seams of the waters:
+	there are certain condolements, certain vails. I
+	hope, sir, if you thrive, you'll remember from
+	whence you had it.
+
+PERICLES	Believe 't, I will.
+	By your furtherance I am clothed in steel;
+	And, spite of all the rapture of the sea,
+	This jewel holds his building on my arm:
+	Unto thy value I will mount myself
+	Upon a courser, whose delightful steps
+	Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread.
+	Only, my friend, I yet am unprovided
+	Of a pair of bases.
+
+Second Fisherman	We'll sure provide: thou shalt have my best gown to
+	make thee a pair; and I'll bring thee to the court myself.
+
+PERICLES	Then honour be but a goal to my will,
+	This day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. A public way or platform leading to the
+	lists. A pavilion by the side of it for the
+	reception of King, Princess, Lords, &c.
+
+
+	[Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, and Attendants]
+
+SIMONIDES	Are the knights ready to begin the triumph?
+
+First Lord	They are, my liege;
+	And stay your coming to present themselves.
+
+SIMONIDES	Return them, we are ready; and our daughter,
+	In honour of whose birth these triumphs are,
+	Sits here, like beauty's child, whom nature gat
+	For men to see, and seeing wonder at.
+
+	[Exit a Lord]
+
+THAISA	It pleaseth you, my royal father, to express
+	My commendations great, whose merit's less.
+
+SIMONIDES	It's fit it should be so; for princes are
+	A model which heaven makes like to itself:
+	As jewels lose their glory if neglected,
+	So princes their renowns if not respected.
+	'Tis now your honour, daughter, to explain
+	The labour of each knight in his device.
+
+THAISA	Which, to preserve mine honour, I'll perform.
+
+	[Enter a Knight; he passes over, and his Squire
+	presents his shield to the Princess]
+
+SIMONIDES	Who is the first that doth prefer himself?
+
+THAISA	A knight of Sparta, my renowned father;
+	And the device he bears upon his shield
+	Is a black Ethiope reaching at the sun
+	The word, 'Lux tua vita mihi.'
+
+SIMONIDES	He loves you well that holds his life of you.
+
+	[The Second Knight passes over]
+
+	Who is the second that presents himself?
+
+THAISA	A prince of Macedon, my royal father;
+	And the device he bears upon his shield
+	Is an arm'd knight that's conquer'd by a lady;
+	The motto thus, in Spanish, 'Piu por dulzura que por fuerza.'
+
+	[The Third Knight passes over]
+
+SIMONIDES	And what's the third?
+
+THAISA	The third of Antioch;
+	And his device, a wreath of chivalry;
+	The word, 'Me pompae provexit apex.'
+
+	[The Fourth Knight passes over]
+
+SIMONIDES	What is the fourth?
+
+THAISA	A burning torch that's turned upside down;
+	The word, 'Quod me alit, me extinguit.'
+
+SIMONIDES	Which shows that beauty hath his power and will,
+	Which can as well inflame as it can kill.
+
+	[The Fifth Knight passes over]
+
+THAISA	The fifth, an hand environed with clouds,
+	Holding out gold that's by the touchstone tried;
+	The motto thus, 'Sic spectanda fides.'
+
+	[The Sixth Knight, PERICLES, passes over]
+
+SIMONIDES	And what's
+	The sixth and last, the which the knight himself
+	With such a graceful courtesy deliver'd?
+
+THAISA	He seems to be a stranger; but his present is
+	A wither'd branch, that's only green at top;
+	The motto, 'In hac spe vivo.'
+
+SIMONIDES	A pretty moral;
+	From the dejected state wherein he is,
+	He hopes by you his fortunes yet may flourish.
+
+First Lord	He had need mean better than his outward show
+	Can any way speak in his just commend;
+	For by his rusty outside he appears
+	To have practised more the whipstock than the lance.
+
+Second Lord	He well may be a stranger, for he comes
+	To an honour'd triumph strangely furnished.
+
+Third Lord	And on set purpose let his armour rust
+	Until this day, to scour it in the dust.
+
+SIMONIDES	Opinion's but a fool, that makes us scan
+	The outward habit by the inward man.
+	But stay, the knights are coming: we will withdraw
+	Into the gallery.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Great shouts within and all cry 'The mean knight!']
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. A hall of state: a banquet prepared.
+
+
+	[Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, Attendants, and
+	Knights, from tilting]
+
+SIMONIDES	Knights,
+	To say you're welcome were superfluous.
+	To place upon the volume of your deeds,
+	As in a title-page, your worth in arms,
+	Were more than you expect, or more than's fit,
+	Since every worth in show commends itself.
+	Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast:
+	You are princes and my guests.
+
+THAISA	But you, my knight and guest;
+	To whom this wreath of victory I give,
+	And crown you king of this day's happiness.
+
+PERICLES	'Tis more by fortune, lady, than by merit.
+
+SIMONIDES	Call it by what you will, the day is yours;
+	And here, I hope, is none that envies it.
+	In framing an artist, art hath thus decreed,
+	To make some good, but others to exceed;
+	And you are her labour'd scholar. Come, queen o'
+	the feast,--
+	For, daughter, so you are,--here take your place:
+	Marshal the rest, as they deserve their grace.
+
+KNIGHTS	We are honour'd much by good Simonides.
+
+SIMONIDES	Your presence glads our days: honour we love;
+	For who hates honour hates the gods above.
+
+Marshal	Sir, yonder is your place.
+
+PERICLES	Some other is more fit.
+
+First Knight	Contend not, sir; for we are gentlemen
+	That neither in our hearts nor outward eyes
+	Envy the great nor do the low despise.
+
+PERICLES	You are right courteous knights.
+
+SIMONIDES	Sit, sir, sit.
+
+PERICLES	By Jove, I wonder, that is king of thoughts,
+	These cates resist me, she but thought upon.
+
+THAISA	By Juno, that is queen of marriage,
+	All viands that I eat do seem unsavoury.
+	Wishing him my meat. Sure, he's a gallant gentleman.
+
+SIMONIDES	He's but a country gentleman;
+	Has done no more than other knights have done;
+	Has broken a staff or so; so let it pass.
+
+THAISA	To me he seems like diamond to glass.
+
+PERICLES	Yon king's to me like to my father's picture,
+	Which tells me in that glory once he was;
+	Had princes sit, like stars, about his throne,
+	And he the sun, for them to reverence;
+	None that beheld him, but, like lesser lights,
+	Did vail their crowns to his supremacy:
+	Where now his son's like a glow-worm in the night,
+	The which hath fire in darkness, none in light:
+	Whereby I see that Time's the king of men,
+	He's both their parent, and he is their grave,
+	And gives them what he will, not what they crave.
+
+SIMONIDES	What, are you merry, knights?
+
+Knights	Who can be other in this royal presence?
+
+SIMONIDES	Here, with a cup that's stored unto the brim,--
+	As you do love, fill to your mistress' lips,--
+	We drink this health to you.
+
+KNIGHTS	We thank your grace.
+
+SIMONIDES	Yet pause awhile:
+	Yon knight doth sit too melancholy,
+	As if the entertainment in our court
+	Had not a show might countervail his worth.
+	Note it not you, Thaisa?
+
+THAISA	What is it
+	To me, my father?
+
+SIMONIDES	                  O, attend, my daughter:
+	Princes in this should live like gods above,
+	Who freely give to every one that comes
+	To honour them:
+	And princes not doing so are like to gnats,
+	Which make a sound, but kill'd are wonder'd at.
+	Therefore to make his entrance more sweet,
+	Here, say we drink this standing-bowl of wine to him.
+
+THAISA	Alas, my father, it befits not me
+	Unto a stranger knight to be so bold:
+	He may my proffer take for an offence,
+	Since men take women's gifts for impudence.
+
+SIMONIDES	How!
+	Do as I bid you, or you'll move me else.
+
+THAISA	[Aside]  Now, by the gods, he could not please me better.
+
+SIMONIDES	And furthermore tell him, we desire to know of him,
+	Of whence he is, his name and parentage.
+
+THAISA	The king my father, sir, has drunk to you.
+
+PERICLES	I thank him.
+
+THAISA	Wishing it so much blood unto your life.
+
+PERICLES	I thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.
+
+THAISA	And further he desires to know of you,
+	Of whence you are, your name and parentage.
+
+PERICLES	A gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;
+	My education been in arts and arms;
+	Who, looking for adventures in the world,
+	Was by the rough seas reft of ships and men,
+	And after shipwreck driven upon this shore.
+
+THAISA	He thanks your grace; names himself Pericles,
+	A gentleman of Tyre,
+	Who only by misfortune of the seas
+	Bereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.
+
+SIMONIDES	Now, by the gods, I pity his misfortune,
+	And will awake him from his melancholy.
+	Come, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,
+	And waste the time, which looks for other revels.
+	Even in your armours, as you are address'd,
+	Will very well become a soldier's dance.
+	I will not have excuse, with saying this
+	Loud music is too harsh for ladies' heads,
+	Since they love men in arms as well as beds.
+
+	[The Knights dance]
+
+	So, this was well ask'd,'twas so well perform'd.
+	Come, sir;
+	Here is a lady that wants breathing too:
+	And I have heard, you knights of Tyre
+	Are excellent in making ladies trip;
+	And that their measures are as excellent.
+
+PERICLES	In those that practise them they are, my lord.
+
+SIMONIDES	O, that's as much as you would be denied
+	Of your fair courtesy.
+
+	[The Knights and Ladies dance]
+
+		 Unclasp, unclasp:
+	Thanks, gentlemen, to all; all have done well.
+
+	[To PERICLES]
+
+	But you the best. Pages and lights, to conduct
+	These knights unto their several lodgings!
+
+	[To PERICLES]
+
+			 Yours, sir,
+	We have given order to be next our own.
+
+PERICLES	I am at your grace's pleasure.
+
+SIMONIDES	Princes, it is too late to talk of love;
+	And that's the mark I know you level at:
+	Therefore each one betake him to his rest;
+	To-morrow all for speeding do their best.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Tyre. A room in the Governor's house.
+
+
+	[Enter HELICANUS and ESCANES]
+
+HELICANUS	No, Escanes, know this of me,
+	Antiochus from incest lived not free:
+	For which, the most high gods not minding longer
+	To withhold the vengeance that they had in store,
+	Due to this heinous capital offence,
+	Even in the height and pride of all his glory,
+	When he was seated in a chariot
+	Of an inestimable value, and his daughter with him,
+	A fire from heaven came and shrivell'd up
+	Their bodies, even to loathing; for they so stunk,
+	That all those eyes adored them ere their fall
+	Scorn now their hand should give them burial.
+
+ESCANES	'Twas very strange.
+
+HELICANUS	And yet but justice; for though
+	This king were great, his greatness was no guard
+	To bar heaven's shaft, but sin had his reward.
+
+ESCANES	'Tis very true.
+
+	[Enter two or three Lords]
+
+First Lord	See, not a man in private conference
+	Or council has respect with him but he.
+
+Second Lord	It shall no longer grieve without reproof.
+
+Third Lord	And cursed be he that will not second it.
+
+First Lord	Follow me, then. Lord Helicane, a word.
+
+HELICANUS	With me? and welcome: happy day, my lords.
+
+First Lord	Know that our griefs are risen to the top,
+	And now at length they overflow their banks.
+
+HELICANUS	Your griefs! for what? wrong not your prince you love.
+
+First Lord	Wrong not yourself, then, noble Helicane;
+	But if the prince do live, let us salute him,
+	Or know what ground's made happy by his breath.
+	If in the world he live, we'll seek him out;
+	If in his grave he rest, we'll find him there;
+	And be resolved he lives to govern us,
+	Or dead, give's cause to mourn his funeral,
+	And leave us to our free election.
+
+Second Lord	Whose death indeed's the strongest in our censure:
+	And knowing this kingdom is without a head,--
+	Like goodly buildings left without a roof
+	Soon fall to ruin,--your noble self,
+	That best know how to rule and how to reign,
+	We thus submit unto,--our sovereign.
+
+All	Live, noble Helicane!
+
+HELICANUS	For honour's cause, forbear your suffrages:
+	If that you love Prince Pericles, forbear.
+	Take I your wish, I leap into the seas,
+	Where's hourly trouble for a minute's ease.
+	A twelvemonth longer, let me entreat you to
+	Forbear the absence of your king:
+	If in which time expired, he not return,
+	I shall with aged patience bear your yoke.
+	But if I cannot win you to this love,
+	Go search like nobles, like noble subjects,
+	And in your search spend your adventurous worth;
+	Whom if you find, and win unto return,
+	You shall like diamonds sit about his crown.
+
+First Lord	To wisdom he's a fool that will not yield;
+	And since Lord Helicane enjoineth us,
+	We with our travels will endeavour us.
+
+HELICANUS	Then you love us, we you, and we'll clasp hands:
+	When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Pentapolis. A room in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter SIMONIDES, reading a letter, at one door:
+	the Knights meet him]
+
+First Knight	Good morrow to the good Simonides.
+
+SIMONIDES	Knights, from my daughter this I let you know,
+	That for this twelvemonth she'll not undertake
+	A married life.
+	Her reason to herself is only known,
+	Which yet from her by no means can I get.
+
+Second Knight	May we not get access to her, my lord?
+
+SIMONIDES	'Faith, by no means; she has so strictly tied
+	Her to her chamber, that 'tis impossible.
+	One twelve moons more she'll wear Diana's livery;
+	This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vow'd
+	And on her virgin honour will not break it.
+
+Third Knight	Loath to bid farewell, we take our leaves.
+
+	[Exeunt Knights]
+
+SIMONIDES	So,
+	They are well dispatch'd; now to my daughter's letter:
+	She tells me here, she'd wed the stranger knight,
+	Or never more to view nor day nor light.
+	'Tis well, mistress; your choice agrees with mine;
+	I like that well: nay, how absolute she's in't,
+	Not minding whether I dislike or no!
+	Well, I do commend her choice;
+	And will no longer have it be delay'd.
+	Soft! here he comes: I must dissemble it.
+
+	[Enter PERICLES]
+
+PERICLES	All fortune to the good Simonides!
+
+SIMONIDES	To you as much, sir! I am beholding to you
+	For your sweet music this last night: I do
+	Protest my ears were never better fed
+	With such delightful pleasing harmony.
+
+PERICLES	It is your grace's pleasure to commend;
+	Not my desert.
+
+SIMONIDES	Sir, you are music's master.
+
+PERICLES	The worst of all her scholars, my good lord.
+
+SIMONIDES	Let me ask you one thing:
+	What do you think of my daughter, sir?
+
+PERICLES	A most virtuous princess.
+
+SIMONIDES	And she is fair too, is she not?
+
+PERICLES	As a fair day in summer, wondrous fair.
+
+SIMONIDES	Sir, my daughter thinks very well of you;
+	Ay, so well, that you must be her master,
+	And she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.
+
+PERICLES	I am unworthy for her schoolmaster.
+
+SIMONIDES	She thinks not so; peruse this writing else.
+
+PERICLES	[Aside]  What's here?
+	A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!
+	'Tis the king's subtlety to have my life.
+	O, seek not to entrap me, gracious lord,
+	A stranger and distressed gentleman,
+	That never aim'd so high to love your daughter,
+	But bent all offices to honour her.
+
+SIMONIDES	Thou hast bewitch'd my daughter, and thou art
+	A villain.
+
+PERICLES	By the gods, I have not:
+	Never did thought of mine levy offence;
+	Nor never did my actions yet commence
+	A deed might gain her love or your displeasure.
+
+SIMONIDES	Traitor, thou liest.
+
+PERICLES	Traitor!
+
+SIMONIDES	Ay, traitor.
+
+PERICLES	Even in his throat--unless it be the king--
+	That calls me traitor, I return the lie.
+
+SIMONIDES	[Aside]  Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage.
+
+PERICLES	My actions are as noble as my thoughts,
+	That never relish'd of a base descent.
+	I came unto your court for honour's cause,
+	And not to be a rebel to her state;
+	And he that otherwise accounts of me,
+	This sword shall prove he's honour's enemy.
+
+SIMONIDES	No?
+	Here comes my daughter, she can witness it.
+
+	[Enter THAISA]
+
+PERICLES	Then, as you are as virtuous as fair,
+	Resolve your angry father, if my tongue
+	Did ere solicit, or my hand subscribe
+	To any syllable that made love to you.
+
+THAISA	Why, sir, say if you had,
+	Who takes offence at that would make me glad?
+
+SIMONIDES	Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory?
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	I am glad on't with all my heart.--
+	I'll tame you; I'll bring you in subjection.
+	Will you, not having my consent,
+	Bestow your love and your affections
+	Upon a stranger?
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	who, for aught I know,
+	May be, nor can I think the contrary,
+	As great in blood as I myself.--
+	Therefore hear you, mistress; either frame
+	Your will to mine,--and you, sir, hear you,
+	Either be ruled by me, or I will make you--
+	Man and wife:
+	Nay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too:
+	And being join'd, I'll thus your hopes destroy;
+	And for a further grief,--God give you joy!--
+	What, are you both pleased?
+
+THAISA	Yes, if you love me, sir.
+
+PERICLES	Even as my life, or blood that fosters it.
+
+SIMONIDES	What, are you both agreed?
+
+BOTH	Yes, if it please your majesty.
+
+SIMONIDES	It pleaseth me so well, that I will see you wed;
+	And then with what haste you can get you to bed.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+	[Enter GOWER]
+
+GOWER	Now sleep y-slaked hath the rout;
+	No din but snores the house about,
+	Made louder by the o'er-fed breast
+	Of this most pompous marriage-feast.
+	The cat, with eyne of burning coal,
+	Now crouches fore the mouse's hole;
+	And crickets sing at the oven's mouth,
+	E'er the blither for their drouth.
+	Hymen hath brought the bride to bed.
+	Where, by the loss of maidenhead,
+	A babe is moulded. Be attent,
+	And time that is so briefly spent
+	With your fine fancies quaintly eche:
+	What's dumb in show I'll plain with speech.
+
+		DUMB SHOW.
+
+	[Enter, PERICLES and SIMONIDES at one door, with
+	Attendants; a Messenger meets them, kneels, and
+	gives PERICLES a letter: PERICLES shows it
+	SIMONIDES; the Lords kneel to him. Then enter
+	THAISA with child, with LYCHORIDA a nurse. The
+	KING shows her the letter; she rejoices: she and
+	PERICLES takes leave of her father, and depart with
+	LYCHORIDA and their Attendants. Then exeunt
+	SIMONIDES and the rest]
+
+	By many a dern and painful perch
+	Of Pericles the careful search,
+	By the four opposing coigns
+	Which the world together joins,
+	Is made with all due diligence
+	That horse and sail and high expense
+	Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre,
+	Fame answering the most strange inquire,
+	To the court of King Simonides
+	Are letters brought, the tenor these:
+	Antiochus and his daughter dead;
+	The men of Tyrus on the head
+	Of Helicanus would set on
+	The crown of Tyre, but he will none:
+	The mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;
+	Says to 'em, if King Pericles
+	Come not home in twice six moons,
+	He, obedient to their dooms,
+	Will take the crown. The sum of this,
+	Brought hither to Pentapolis,
+	Y-ravished the regions round,
+	And every one with claps can sound,
+	'Our heir-apparent is a king!
+	Who dream'd, who thought of such a thing?'
+	Brief, he must hence depart to Tyre:
+	His queen with child makes her desire--
+	Which who shall cross?--along to go:
+	Omit we all their dole and woe:
+	Lychorida, her nurse, she takes,
+	And so to sea. Their vessel shakes
+	On Neptune's billow; half the flood
+	Hath their keel cut: but fortune's mood
+	Varies again; the grisly north
+	Disgorges such a tempest forth,
+	That, as a duck for life that dives,
+	So up and down the poor ship drives:
+	The lady shrieks, and well-a-near
+	Does fall in travail with her fear:
+	And what ensues in this fell storm
+	Shall for itself itself perform.
+	I nill relate, action may
+	Conveniently the rest convey;
+	Which might not what by me is told.
+	In your imagination hold
+	This stage the ship, upon whose deck
+	The sea-tost Pericles appears to speak.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I:
+
+
+	[Enter PERICLES, on shipboard]
+
+PERICLES	Thou god of this great vast, rebuke these surges,
+	Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou, that hast
+	Upon the winds command, bind them in brass,
+	Having call'd them from the deep! O, still
+	Thy deafening, dreadful thunders; gently quench
+	Thy nimble, sulphurous flashes! O, how, Lychorida,
+	How does my queen? Thou stormest venomously;
+	Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seaman's whistle
+	Is as a whisper in the ears of death,
+	Unheard. Lychorida!--Lucina, O
+	Divinest patroness, and midwife gentle
+	To those that cry by night, convey thy deity
+	Aboard our dancing boat; make swift the pangs
+	Of my queen's travails!
+
+	[Enter LYCHORIDA, with an Infant]
+
+		  Now, Lychorida!
+
+LYCHORIDA	Here is a thing too young for such a place,
+	Who, if it had conceit, would die, as I
+	Am like to do: take in your arms this piece
+	Of your dead queen.
+
+PERICLES	How, how, Lychorida!
+
+LYCHORIDA	Patience, good sir; do not assist the storm.
+	Here's all that is left living of your queen,
+	A little daughter: for the sake of it,
+	Be manly, and take comfort.
+
+PERICLES	O you gods!
+	Why do you make us love your goodly gifts,
+	And snatch them straight away? We here below
+	Recall not what we give, and therein may
+	Use honour with you.
+
+LYCHORIDA	Patience, good sir,
+	Even for this charge.
+
+PERICLES	Now, mild may be thy life!
+	For a more blustrous birth had never babe:
+	Quiet and gentle thy conditions! for
+	Thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world
+	That ever was prince's child. Happy what follows!
+	Thou hast as chiding a nativity
+	As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make,
+	To herald thee from the womb: even at the first
+	Thy loss is more than can thy portage quit,
+	With all thou canst find here. Now, the good gods
+	Throw their best eyes upon't!
+
+	[Enter two Sailors]
+
+First Sailor	What courage, sir? God save you!
+
+PERICLES	Courage enough: I do not fear the flaw;
+	It hath done to me the worst. Yet, for the love
+	Of this poor infant, this fresh-new sea-farer,
+	I would it would be quiet.
+
+First Sailor	Slack the bolins there! Thou wilt not, wilt thou?
+	Blow, and split thyself.
+
+Second Sailor	But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss
+	the moon, I care not.
+
+First Sailor	Sir, your queen must overboard: the sea works high,
+	the wind is loud, and will not lie till the ship be
+	cleared of the dead.
+
+PERICLES	That's your superstition.
+
+First Sailor	Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it hath been still
+	observed: and we are strong in custom. Therefore
+	briefly yield her; for she must overboard straight.
+
+PERICLES	As you think meet. Most wretched queen!
+
+LYCHORIDA	Here she lies, sir.
+
+PERICLES	A terrible childbed hast thou had, my dear;
+	No light, no fire: the unfriendly elements
+	Forgot thee utterly: nor have I time
+	To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight
+	Must cast thee, scarcely coffin'd, in the ooze;
+	Where, for a monument upon thy bones,
+	And e'er-remaining lamps, the belching whale
+	And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse,
+	Lying with simple shells. O Lychorida,
+	Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper,
+	My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander
+	Bring me the satin coffer: lay the babe
+	Upon the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say
+	A priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.
+
+	[Exit LYCHORIDA]
+
+Second Sailor	Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked
+	and bitumed ready.
+
+PERICLES	I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?
+
+Second Sailor	We are near Tarsus.
+
+PERICLES	Thither, gentle mariner.
+	Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou reach it?
+
+Second Sailor	By break of day, if the wind cease.
+
+PERICLES	O, make for Tarsus!
+	There will I visit Cleon, for the babe
+	Cannot hold out to Tyrus: there I'll leave it
+	At careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:
+	I'll bring the body presently.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Ephesus. A room in CERIMON's house.
+
+
+	[Enter CERIMON, with a Servant, and some Persons who
+	have been shipwrecked]
+
+CERIMON	Philemon, ho!
+
+	[Enter PHILEMON]
+
+PHILEMON	Doth my lord call?
+
+CERIMON	Get fire and meat for these poor men:
+	'T has been a turbulent and stormy night.
+
+Servant	I have been in many; but such a night as this,
+	Till now, I ne'er endured.
+
+CERIMON	Your master will be dead ere you return;
+	There's nothing can be minister'd to nature
+	That can recover him.
+
+	[To PHILEMON]
+
+		Give this to the 'pothecary,
+	And tell me how it works.
+
+	[Exeunt all but CERIMON]
+
+	[Enter two Gentlemen]
+
+First Gentleman	Good morrow.
+
+Second Gentleman	Good morrow to your lordship.
+
+CERIMON	Gentlemen,
+	Why do you stir so early?
+
+First Gentleman	Sir,
+	Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea,
+	Shook as the earth did quake;
+	The very principals did seem to rend,
+	And all-to topple: pure surprise and fear
+	Made me to quit the house.
+
+Second Gentleman	That is the cause we trouble you so early;
+	'Tis not our husbandry.
+
+CERIMON	O, you say well.
+
+First Gentleman	But I much marvel that your lordship, having
+	Rich tire about you, should at these early hours
+	Shake off the golden slumber of repose.
+	'Tis most strange,
+	Nature should be so conversant with pain,
+	Being thereto not compell'd.
+
+CERIMON	I hold it ever,
+	Virtue and cunning were endowments greater
+	Than nobleness and riches: careless heirs
+	May the two latter darken and expend;
+	But immortality attends the former.
+	Making a man a god. 'Tis known, I ever
+	Have studied physic, through which secret art,
+	By turning o'er authorities, I have,
+	Together with my practise, made familiar
+	To me and to my aid the blest infusions
+	That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones;
+	And I can speak of the disturbances
+	That nature works, and of her cures; which doth give me
+	A more content in course of true delight
+	Than to be thirsty after tottering honour,
+	Or tie my treasure up in silken bags,
+	To please the fool and death.
+
+Second Gentleman	Your honour has through Ephesus pour'd forth
+	Your charity, and hundreds call themselves
+	Your creatures, who by you have been restored:
+	And not your knowledge, your personal pain, but even
+	Your purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon
+	Such strong renown as time shall ne'er decay.
+
+	[Enter two or three Servants with a chest]
+
+First Servant	So; lift there.
+
+CERIMON	                  What is that?
+
+First Servant	Sir, even now
+	Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest:
+	'Tis of some wreck.
+
+CERIMON	Set 't down, let's look upon't.
+
+Second Gentleman	'Tis like a coffin, sir.
+
+CERIMON	Whate'er it be,
+	'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight:
+	If the sea's stomach be o'ercharged with gold,
+	'Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us.
+
+Second Gentleman	'Tis so, my lord.
+
+CERIMON	                  How close 'tis caulk'd and bitumed!
+	Did the sea cast it up?
+
+First Servant	I never saw so huge a billow, sir,
+	As toss'd it upon shore.
+
+CERIMON	Wrench it open;
+	Soft! it smells most sweetly in my sense.
+
+Second Gentleman	A delicate odour.
+
+CERIMON	As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it.
+	O you most potent gods! what's here? a corse!
+
+First Gentleman	Most strange!
+
+CERIMON	Shrouded in cloth of state; balm'd and entreasured
+	With full bags of spices! A passport too!
+	Apollo, perfect me in the characters!
+
+	[Reads from a scroll]
+
+	'Here I give to understand,
+	If e'er this coffin drive a-land,
+	I, King Pericles, have lost
+	This queen, worth all our mundane cost.
+	Who finds her, give her burying;
+	She was the daughter of a king:
+	Besides this treasure for a fee,
+	The gods requite his charity!'
+
+	If thou livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart
+	That even cracks for woe! This chanced tonight.
+
+Second Gentleman	Most likely, sir.
+
+CERIMON	                  Nay, certainly to-night;
+	For look how fresh she looks! They were too rough
+	That threw her in the sea. Make a fire within:
+	Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet.
+
+	[Exit a Servant]
+
+	Death may usurp on nature many hours,
+	And yet the fire of life kindle again
+	The o'erpress'd spirits. I heard of an Egyptian
+	That had nine hours lien dead,
+	Who was by good appliance recovered.
+
+	[Re-enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire]
+
+	Well said, well said; the fire and cloths.
+	The rough and woeful music that we have,
+	Cause it to sound, beseech you.
+	The viol once more: how thou stirr'st, thou block!
+	The music there!--I pray you, give her air.
+	Gentlemen.
+	This queen will live: nature awakes; a warmth
+	Breathes out of her: she hath not been entranced
+	Above five hours: see how she gins to blow
+	Into life's flower again!
+
+First Gentleman	The heavens,
+	Through you, increase our wonder and set up
+	Your fame forever.
+
+CERIMON	                  She is alive; behold,
+	Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels
+	Which Pericles hath lost,
+	Begin to part their fringes of bright gold;
+	The diamonds of a most praised water
+	Do appear, to make the world twice rich. Live,
+	And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,
+	Rare as you seem to be.
+
+	[She moves]
+
+THAISA	O dear Diana,
+	Where am I? Where's my lord? What world is this?
+
+Second Gentleman	Is not this strange?
+
+First Gentleman	Most rare.
+
+CERIMON	Hush, my gentle neighbours!
+	Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her.
+	Get linen: now this matter must be look'd to,
+	For her relapse is mortal. Come, come;
+	And AEsculapius guide us!
+
+	[Exeunt, carrying her away]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Tarsus. A room in CLEON's house.
+
+
+	[Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, and LYCHORIDA with
+	MARINA in her arms]
+
+PERICLES	 Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;
+	My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands
+	In a litigious peace. You, and your lady,
+	Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods
+	Make up the rest upon you!
+
+CLEON	Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,
+	Yet glance full wanderingly on us.
+
+DIONYZA	O your sweet queen!
+	That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither,
+	To have bless'd mine eyes with her!
+
+PERICLES	We cannot but obey
+	The powers above us. Could I rage and roar
+	As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end
+	Must be as 'tis. My gentle babe Marina, whom,
+	For she was born at sea, I have named so, here
+	I charge your charity withal, leaving her
+	The infant of your care; beseeching you
+	To give her princely training, that she may be
+	Manner'd as she is born.
+
+CLEON	Fear not, my lord, but think
+	Your grace, that fed my country with your corn,
+	For which the people's prayers still fall upon you,
+	Must in your child be thought on. If neglection
+	Should therein make me vile, the common body,
+	By you relieved, would force me to my duty:
+	But if to that my nature need a spur,
+	The gods revenge it upon me and mine,
+	To the end of generation!
+
+PERICLES	I believe you;
+	Your honour and your goodness teach me to't,
+	Without your vows. Till she be married, madam,
+	By bright Diana, whom we honour, all
+	Unscissor'd shall this hair of mine remain,
+	Though I show ill in't. So I take my leave.
+	Good madam, make me blessed in your care
+	In bringing up my child.
+
+DIONYZA	I have one myself,
+	Who shall not be more dear to my respect
+	Than yours, my lord.
+
+PERICLES	Madam, my thanks and prayers.
+
+CLEON	We'll bring your grace e'en to the edge o' the shore,
+	Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune and
+	The gentlest winds of heaven.
+
+PERICLES	I will embrace
+	Your offer. Come, dearest madam. O, no tears,
+	Lychorida, no tears:
+	Look to your little mistress, on whose grace
+	You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Ephesus. A room in CERIMON's house.
+
+
+	[Enter CERIMON and THAISA]
+
+CERIMON	Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels,
+	Lay with you in your coffer: which are now
+	At your command. Know you the character?
+
+THAISA	It is my lord's.
+	That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember,
+	Even on my eaning time; but whether there
+	Deliver'd, by the holy gods,
+	I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles,
+	My wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again,
+	A vestal livery will I take me to,
+	And never more have joy.
+
+CERIMON	Madam, if this you purpose as ye speak,
+	Diana's temple is not distant far,
+	Where you may abide till your date expire.
+	Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine
+	Shall there attend you.
+
+THAISA	My recompense is thanks, that's all;
+	Yet my good will is great, though the gift small.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+	[Enter GOWER]
+
+GOWER	Imagine Pericles arrived at Tyre,
+	Welcomed and settled to his own desire.
+	His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,
+	Unto Diana there a votaress.
+	Now to Marina bend your mind,
+	Whom our fast-growing scene must find
+	At Tarsus, and by Cleon train'd
+	In music, letters; who hath gain'd
+	Of education all the grace,
+	Which makes her both the heart and place
+	Of general wonder. But, alack,
+	That monster envy, oft the wrack
+	Of earned praise, Marina's life
+	Seeks to take off by treason's knife.
+	And in this kind hath our Cleon
+	One daughter, and a wench full grown,
+	Even ripe for marriage-rite; this maid
+	Hight Philoten: and it is said
+	For certain in our story, she
+	Would ever with Marina be:
+	Be't when she weaved the sleided silk
+	With fingers long, small, white as milk;
+	Or when she would with sharp needle wound
+	The cambric, which she made more sound
+	By hurting it; or when to the lute
+	She sung, and made the night-bird mute,
+	That still records with moan; or when
+	She would with rich and constant pen
+	Vail to her mistress Dian; still
+	This Philoten contends in skill
+	With absolute Marina: so
+	With the dove of Paphos might the crow
+	Vie feathers white. Marina gets
+	All praises, which are paid as debts,
+	And not as given. This so darks
+	In Philoten all graceful marks,
+	That Cleon's wife, with envy rare,
+	A present murderer does prepare
+	For good Marina, that her daughter
+	Might stand peerless by this slaughter.
+	The sooner her vile thoughts to stead,
+	Lychorida, our nurse, is dead:
+	And cursed Dionyza hath
+	The pregnant instrument of wrath
+	Prest for this blow. The unborn event
+	I do commend to your content:
+	Only I carry winged time
+	Post on the lame feet of my rhyme;
+	Which never could I so convey,
+	Unless your thoughts went on my way.
+	Dionyza does appear,
+	With Leonine, a murderer.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Tarsus. An open place near the sea-shore.
+
+
+	[Enter DIONYZA and LEONINE]
+
+DIONYZA	Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do't:
+	'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.
+	Thou canst not do a thing in the world so soon,
+	To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience,
+	Which is but cold, inflaming love i' thy bosom,
+	Inflame too nicely; nor let pity, which
+	Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be
+	A soldier to thy purpose.
+
+LEONINE	I will do't; but yet she is a goodly creature.
+
+DIONYZA	The fitter, then, the gods should have her. Here
+	she comes weeping for her only mistress' death.
+	Thou art resolved?
+
+LEONINE	I am resolved.
+
+	[Enter MARINA, with a basket of flowers]
+
+MARINA	No, I will rob Tellus of her weed,
+	To strew thy green with flowers: the yellows, blues,
+	The purple violets, and marigolds,
+	Shall as a carpet hang upon thy grave,
+	While summer-days do last. Ay me! poor maid,
+	Born in a tempest, when my mother died,
+	This world to me is like a lasting storm,
+	Whirring me from my friends.
+
+DIONYZA	How now, Marina! why do you keep alone?
+	How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not
+	Consume your blood with sorrowing: you have
+	A nurse of me. Lord, how your favour's changed
+	With this unprofitable woe!
+	Come, give me your flowers, ere the sea mar it.
+	Walk with Leonine; the air is quick there,
+	And it pierces and sharpens the stomach. Come,
+	Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her.
+
+MARINA	No, I pray you;
+	I'll not bereave you of your servant.
+
+DIONYZA	Come, come;
+	I love the king your father, and yourself,
+	With more than foreign heart. We every day
+	Expect him here: when he shall come and find
+	Our paragon to all reports thus blasted,
+	He will repent the breadth of his great voyage;
+	Blame both my lord and me, that we have taken
+	No care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,
+	Walk, and be cheerful once again; reserve
+	That excellent complexion, which did steal
+	The eyes of young and old. Care not for me
+	I can go home alone.
+
+MARINA	Well, I will go;
+	But yet I have no desire to it.
+
+DIONYZA	Come, come, I know 'tis good for you.
+	Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least:
+	Remember what I have said.
+
+LEONINE	I warrant you, madam.
+
+DIONYZA	I'll leave you, my sweet lady, for a while:
+	Pray, walk softly, do not heat your blood:
+	What! I must have a care of you.
+
+MARINA	My thanks, sweet madam.
+
+	[Exit DIONYZA]
+
+	Is this wind westerly that blows?
+
+LEONINE	South-west.
+
+MARINA	When I was born, the wind was north.
+
+LEONINE	Was't so?
+
+MARINA	My father, as nurse said, did never fear,
+	But cried 'Good seaman!' to the sailors, galling
+	His kingly hands, haling ropes;
+	And, clasping to the mast, endured a sea
+	That almost burst the deck.
+
+LEONINE	When was this?
+
+MARINA	When I was born:
+	Never was waves nor wind more violent;
+	And from the ladder-tackle washes off
+	A canvas-climber. 'Ha!' says one, 'wilt out?'
+	And with a dropping industry they skip
+	From stem to stern: the boatswain whistles, and
+	The master calls, and trebles their confusion.
+
+LEONINE	Come, say your prayers.
+
+MARINA	What mean you?
+
+LEONINE	If you require a little space for prayer,
+	I grant it: pray; but be not tedious,
+	For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn
+	To do my work with haste.
+
+MARINA	Why will you kill me?
+
+LEONINE	To satisfy my lady.
+
+MARINA	Why would she have me kill'd?
+	Now, as I can remember, by my troth,
+	I never did her hurt in all my life:
+	I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn
+	To any living creature: believe me, la,
+	I never kill'd a mouse, nor hurt a fly:
+	I trod upon a worm against my will,
+	But I wept for it. How have I offended,
+	Wherein my death might yield her any profit,
+	Or my life imply her any danger?
+
+LEONINE	My commission
+	Is not to reason of the deed, but do it.
+
+MARINA	You will not do't for all the world, I hope.
+	You are well favour'd, and your looks foreshow
+	You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately,
+	When you caught hurt in parting two that fought:
+	Good sooth, it show'd well in you: do so now:
+	Your lady seeks my life; come you between,
+	And save poor me, the weaker.
+
+LEONINE	I am sworn,
+	And will dispatch.
+
+	[He seizes her]
+
+	[Enter Pirates]
+
+First Pirate	Hold, villain!
+
+	[LEONINE runs away]
+
+Second Pirate	A prize! a prize!
+
+Third Pirate	Half-part, mates, half-part.
+	Come, let's have her aboard suddenly.
+
+	[Exeunt Pirates with MARINA]
+
+	[Re-enter LEONINE]
+
+LEONINE	These roguing thieves serve the great pirate Valdes;
+	And they have seized Marina. Let her go:
+	There's no hope she will return. I'll swear
+	she's dead,
+	And thrown into the sea. But I'll see further:
+	Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her,
+	Not carry her aboard. If she remain,
+	Whom they have ravish'd must by me be slain.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Mytilene. A room in a brothel.
+
+
+	[Enter Pandar, Bawd, and BOULT]
+
+Pandar	Boult!
+
+BOULT	Sir?
+
+Pandar	Search the market narrowly; Mytilene is full of
+	gallants. We lost too much money this mart by being
+	too wenchless.
+
+Bawd	We were never so much out of creatures. We have but
+	poor three, and they can do no more than they can
+	do; and they with continual action are even as good as rotten.
+
+Pandar	Therefore let's have fresh ones, whate'er we pay for
+	them. If there be not a conscience to be used in
+	every trade, we shall never prosper.
+
+Bawd	Thou sayest true: 'tis not our bringing up of poor
+	bastards,--as, I think, I have brought up some eleven--
+
+BOULT	Ay, to eleven; and brought them down again. But
+	shall I search the market?
+
+Bawd	What else, man? The stuff we have, a strong wind
+	will blow it to pieces, they are so pitifully sodden.
+
+Pandar	Thou sayest true; they're too unwholesome, o'
+	conscience. The poor Transylvanian is dead, that
+	lay with the little baggage.
+
+BOULT	Ay, she quickly pooped him; she made him roast-meat
+	for worms. But I'll go search the market.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Pandar	Three or four thousand chequins were as pretty a
+	proportion to live quietly, and so give over.
+
+Bawd	Why to give over, I pray you? is it a shame to get
+	when we are old?
+
+Pandar	O, our credit comes not in like the commodity, nor
+	the commodity wages not with the danger: therefore,
+	if in our youths we could pick up some pretty
+	estate, 'twere not amiss to keep our door hatched.
+	Besides, the sore terms we stand upon with the gods
+	will be strong with us for giving over.
+
+Bawd	Come, other sorts offend as well as we.
+
+Pandar	As well as we! ay, and better too; we offend worse.
+	Neither is our profession any trade; it's no
+	calling. But here comes Boult.
+
+	[Re-enter BOULT, with the Pirates and MARINA]
+
+BOULT	[To MARINA]  Come your ways. My masters, you say
+	she's a virgin?
+
+First Pirate	O, sir, we doubt it not.
+
+BOULT	Master, I have gone through for this piece, you see:
+	if you like her, so; if not, I have lost my earnest.
+
+Bawd	Boult, has she any qualities?
+
+BOULT	She has a good face, speaks well, and has excellent
+	good clothes: there's no further necessity of
+	qualities can make her be refused.
+
+Bawd	What's her price, Boult?
+
+BOULT	I cannot be bated one doit of a thousand pieces.
+
+Pandar	Well, follow me, my masters, you shall have your
+	money presently. Wife, take her in; instruct her
+	what she has to do, that she may not be raw in her
+	entertainment.
+
+	[Exeunt Pandar and Pirates]
+
+Bawd	Boult, take you the marks of her, the colour of her
+	hair, complexion, height, age, with warrant of her
+	virginity; and cry 'He that will give most shall
+	have her first.' Such a maidenhead were no cheap
+	thing, if men were as they have been. Get this done
+	as I command you.
+
+BOULT	Performance shall follow.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MARINA	Alack that Leonine was so slack, so slow!
+	He should have struck, not spoke; or that these pirates,
+	Not enough barbarous, had not o'erboard thrown me
+	For to seek my mother!
+
+Bawd	Why lament you, pretty one?
+
+MARINA	That I am pretty.
+
+Bawd	Come, the gods have done their part in you.
+
+MARINA	I accuse them not.
+
+Bawd	You are light into my hands, where you are like to live.
+
+MARINA	The more my fault
+	To scape his hands where I was like to die.
+
+Bawd	Ay, and you shall live in pleasure.
+
+MARINA	No.
+
+Bawd	Yes, indeed shall you, and taste gentlemen of all
+	fashions: you shall fare well; you shall have the
+	difference of all complexions. What! do you stop your ears?
+
+MARINA	Are you a woman?
+
+Bawd	What would you have me be, an I be not a woman?
+
+MARINA	An honest woman, or not a woman.
+
+Bawd	Marry, whip thee, gosling: I think I shall have
+	something to do with you. Come, you're a young
+	foolish sapling, and must be bowed as I would have
+	you.
+
+MARINA	The gods defend me!
+
+Bawd	If it please the gods to defend you by men, then men
+	must comfort you, men must feed you, men must stir
+	you up. Boult's returned.
+
+	[Re-enter BOULT]
+
+	Now, sir, hast thou cried her through the market?
+
+BOULT	I have cried her almost to the number of her hairs;
+	I have drawn her picture with my voice.
+
+Bawd	And I prithee tell me, how dost thou find the
+	inclination of the people, especially of the younger sort?
+
+BOULT	'Faith, they listened to me as they would have
+	hearkened to their father's testament. There was a
+	Spaniard's mouth so watered, that he went to bed to
+	her very description.
+
+Bawd	We shall have him here to-morrow with his best ruff on.
+
+BOULT	To-night, to-night. But, mistress, do you know the
+	French knight that cowers i' the hams?
+
+Bawd	Who, Monsieur Veroles?
+
+BOULT	Ay, he: he offered to cut a caper at the
+	proclamation; but he made a groan at it, and swore
+	he would see her to-morrow.
+
+Bawd	Well, well; as for him, he brought his disease
+	hither: here he does but repair it. I know he will
+	come in our shadow, to scatter his crowns in the
+	sun.
+
+BOULT	Well, if we had of every nation a traveller, we
+	should lodge them with this sign.
+
+Bawd	[To MARINA]  Pray you, come hither awhile. You
+	have fortunes coming upon you. Mark me: you must
+	seem to do that fearfully which you commit
+	willingly, despise profit where you have most gain.
+	To weep that you live as ye do makes pity in your
+	lovers: seldom but that pity begets you a good
+	opinion, and that opinion a mere profit.
+
+MARINA	I understand you not.
+
+BOULT	O, take her home, mistress, take her home: these
+	blushes of hers must be quenched with some present practise.
+
+Bawd	Thou sayest true, i' faith, so they must; for your
+	bride goes to that with shame which is her way to go
+	with warrant.
+
+BOULT	'Faith, some do, and some do not. But, mistress, if
+	I have bargained for the joint,--
+
+Bawd	Thou mayst cut a morsel off the spit.
+
+BOULT	I may so.
+
+Bawd	Who should deny it? Come, young one, I like the
+	manner of your garments well.
+
+BOULT	Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet.
+
+Bawd	Boult, spend thou that in the town: report what a
+	sojourner we have; you'll lose nothing by custom.
+	When nature flamed this piece, she meant thee a good
+	turn; therefore say what a paragon she is, and thou
+	hast the harvest out of thine own report.
+
+BOULT	I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so awake
+	the beds of eels as my giving out her beauty stir up
+	the lewdly-inclined. I'll bring home some to-night.
+
+Bawd	Come your ways; follow me.
+
+MARINA	If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep,
+	Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.
+	Diana, aid my purpose!
+
+Bawd	What have we to do with Diana? Pray you, will you go with us?
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Tarsus. A room in CLEON's house.
+
+
+	[Enter CLEON and DIONYZA]
+
+DIONYZA	Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone?
+
+CLEON	O Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter
+	The sun and moon ne'er look'd upon!
+
+DIONYZA	I think
+	You'll turn a child again.
+
+CLEON	Were I chief lord of all this spacious world,
+	I'ld give it to undo the deed. O lady,
+	Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess
+	To equal any single crown o' the earth
+	I' the justice of compare! O villain Leonine!
+	Whom thou hast poison'd too:
+	If thou hadst drunk to him, 't had been a kindness
+	Becoming well thy fact: what canst thou say
+	When noble Pericles shall demand his child?
+
+DIONYZA	That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,
+	To foster it, nor ever to preserve.
+	She died at night; I'll say so. Who can cross it?
+	Unless you play the pious innocent,
+	And for an honest attribute cry out
+	'She died by foul play.'
+
+CLEON	O, go to. Well, well,
+	Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods
+	Do like this worst.
+
+DIONYZA	Be one of those that think
+	The petty wrens of Tarsus will fly hence,
+	And open this to Pericles. I do shame
+	To think of what a noble strain you are,
+	And of how coward a spirit.
+
+CLEON	To such proceeding
+	Who ever but his approbation added,
+	Though not his prime consent, he did not flow
+	From honourable sources.
+
+DIONYZA	Be it so, then:
+	Yet none does know, but you, how she came dead,
+	Nor none can know, Leonine being gone.
+	She did disdain my child, and stood between
+	Her and her fortunes: none would look on her,
+	But cast their gazes on Marina's face;
+	Whilst ours was blurted at and held a malkin
+	Not worth the time of day. It pierced me through;
+	And though you call my course unnatural,
+	You not your child well loving, yet I find
+	It greets me as an enterprise of kindness
+	Perform'd to your sole daughter.
+
+CLEON	Heavens forgive it!
+
+DIONYZA	And as for Pericles,
+	What should he say? We wept after her hearse,
+	And yet we mourn: her monument
+	Is almost finish'd, and her epitaphs
+	In glittering golden characters express
+	A general praise to her, and care in us
+	At whose expense 'tis done.
+
+CLEON	Thou art like the harpy,
+	Which, to betray, dost, with thine angel's face,
+	Seize with thine eagle's talons.
+
+DIONYZA	You are like one that superstitiously
+	Doth swear to the gods that winter kills the flies:
+	But yet I know you'll do as I advise.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV:
+
+
+	[Enter GOWER, before the monument of MARINA at Tarsus]
+
+GOWER	Thus time we waste, and longest leagues make short;
+	Sail seas in cockles, have an wish but for't;
+	Making, to take your imagination,
+	From bourn to bourn, region to region.
+	By you being pardon'd, we commit no crime
+	To use one language in each several clime
+	Where our scenes seem to live. I do beseech you
+	To learn of me, who stand i' the gaps to teach you,
+	The stages of our story. Pericles
+	Is now again thwarting the wayward seas,
+	Attended on by many a lord and knight.
+	To see his daughter, all his life's delight.
+	Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late
+	Advanced in time to great and high estate,
+	Is left to govern. Bear you it in mind,
+	Old Helicanus goes along behind.
+	Well-sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought
+	This king to Tarsus,--think his pilot thought;
+	So with his steerage shall your thoughts grow on,--
+	To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.
+	Like motes and shadows see them move awhile;
+	Your ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.
+
+	DUMB SHOW.
+
+	[Enter PERICLES, at one door, with all his train;
+	CLEON and DIONYZA, at the other. CLEON shows
+	PERICLES the tomb; whereat PERICLES makes
+	lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in a mighty
+	passion departs. Then exeunt CLEON and DIONYZA]
+
+	See how belief may suffer by foul show!
+	This borrow'd passion stands for true old woe;
+	And Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,
+	With sighs shot through, and biggest tears
+	o'ershower'd,
+	Leaves Tarsus and again embarks. He swears
+	Never to wash his face, nor cut his hairs:
+	He puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears
+	A tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,
+	And yet he rides it out. Now please you wit.
+	The epitaph is for Marina writ
+	By wicked Dionyza.
+
+	[Reads the inscription on MARINA's monument]
+
+	'The fairest, sweet'st, and best lies here,
+	Who wither'd in her spring of year.
+	She was of Tyrus the king's daughter,
+	On whom foul death hath made this slaughter;
+	Marina was she call'd; and at her birth,
+	Thetis, being proud, swallow'd some part o' the earth:
+	Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,
+	Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd:
+	Wherefore she does, and swears she'll never stint,
+	Make raging battery upon shores of flint.'
+
+	No visor does become black villany
+	So well as soft and tender flattery.
+	Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,
+	And bear his courses to be ordered
+	By Lady Fortune; while our scene must play
+	His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day
+	In her unholy service. Patience, then,
+	And think you now are all in Mytilene.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Mytilene. A street before the brothel.
+
+
+	[Enter, from the brothel, two Gentlemen]
+
+First Gentleman	Did you ever hear the like?
+
+Second Gentleman	No, nor never shall do in such a place as this, she
+	being once gone.
+
+First Gentleman	But to have divinity preached there! did you ever
+	dream of such a thing?
+
+Second Gentleman	No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdy-houses:
+	shall's go hear the vestals sing?
+
+First Gentleman	I'll do any thing now that is virtuous; but I
+	am out of the road of rutting for ever.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	The same. A room in the brothel.
+
+
+	[Enter Pandar, Bawd, and BOULT]
+
+Pandar	Well, I had rather than twice the worth of her she
+	had ne'er come here.
+
+Bawd	Fie, fie upon her! she's able to freeze the god
+	Priapus, and undo a whole generation. We must
+	either get her ravished, or be rid of her. When she
+	should do for clients her fitment, and do me the
+	kindness of our profession, she has me her quirks,
+	her reasons, her master reasons, her prayers, her
+	knees; that she would make a puritan of the devil,
+	if he should cheapen a kiss of her.
+
+BOULT	'Faith, I must ravish her, or she'll disfurnish us
+	of all our cavaliers, and make our swearers priests.
+
+Pandar	Now, the pox upon her green-sickness for me!
+
+Bawd	'Faith, there's no way to be rid on't but by the
+	way to the pox. Here comes the Lord Lysimachus disguised.
+
+BOULT	We should have both lord and lown, if the peevish
+	baggage would but give way to customers.
+
+	[Enter LYSIMACHUS]
+
+LYSIMACHUS	How now! How a dozen of virginities?
+
+Bawd	Now, the gods to-bless your honour!
+
+BOULT	I am glad to see your honour in good health.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	You may so; 'tis the better for you that your
+	resorters stand upon sound legs. How now!
+	wholesome iniquity have you that a man may deal
+	withal, and defy the surgeon?
+
+Bawd	We have here one, sir, if she would--but there never
+	came her like in Mytilene.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	If she'ld do the deed of darkness, thou wouldst say.
+
+Bawd	Your honour knows what 'tis to say well enough.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Well, call forth, call forth.
+
+BOULT	For flesh and blood, sir, white and red, you shall
+	see a rose; and she were a rose indeed, if she had but--
+
+LYSIMACHUS	What, prithee?
+
+BOULT	O, sir, I can be modest.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	That dignifies the renown of a bawd, no less than it
+	gives a good report to a number to be chaste.
+
+	[Exit BOULT]
+
+Bawd	Here comes that which grows to the stalk; never
+	plucked yet, I can assure you.
+
+	[Re-enter BOULT with MARINA]
+
+	Is she not a fair creature?
+
+LYSIMACHUS	'Faith, she would serve after a long voyage at sea.
+	Well, there's for you: leave us.
+
+Bawd	I beseech your honour, give me leave: a word, and
+	I'll have done presently.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	I beseech you, do.
+
+Bawd	[To MARINA]  First, I would have you note, this is
+	an honourable man.
+
+MARINA	I desire to find him so, that I may worthily note him.
+
+Bawd	Next, he's the governor of this country, and a man
+	whom I am bound to.
+
+MARINA	If he govern the country, you are bound to him
+	indeed; but how honourable he is in that, I know not.
+
+Bawd	Pray you, without any more virginal fencing, will
+	you use him kindly? He will line your apron with gold.
+
+MARINA	What he will do graciously, I will thankfully receive.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Ha' you done?
+
+Bawd	My lord, she's not paced yet: you must take some
+	pains to work her to your manage. Come, we will
+	leave his honour and her together. Go thy ways.
+
+	[Exeunt Bawd, Pandar, and BOULT]
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Now, pretty one, how long have you been at this trade?
+
+MARINA	What trade, sir?
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Why, I cannot name't but I shall offend.
+
+MARINA	I cannot be offended with my trade. Please you to name it.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	How long have you been of this profession?
+
+MARINA	E'er since I can remember.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Did you go to 't so young? Were you a gamester at
+	five or at seven?
+
+MARINA	Earlier too, sir, if now I be one.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Why, the house you dwell in proclaims you to be a
+	creature of sale.
+
+MARINA	Do you know this house to be a place of such resort,
+	and will come into 't? I hear say you are of
+	honourable parts, and are the governor of this place.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Why, hath your principal made known unto you who I am?
+
+MARINA	Who is my principal?
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Why, your herb-woman; she that sets seeds and roots
+	of shame and iniquity. O, you have heard something
+	of my power, and so stand aloof for more serious
+	wooing. But I protest to thee, pretty one, my
+	authority shall not see thee, or else look friendly
+	upon thee. Come, bring me to some private place:
+	come, come.
+
+MARINA	If you were born to honour, show it now;
+	If put upon you, make the judgment good
+	That thought you worthy of it.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	How's this? how's this? Some more; be sage.
+
+MARINA	For me,
+	That am a maid, though most ungentle fortune
+	Have placed me in this sty, where, since I came,
+	Diseases have been sold dearer than physic,
+	O, that the gods
+	Would set me free from this unhallow'd place,
+	Though they did change me to the meanest bird
+	That flies i' the purer air!
+
+LYSIMACHUS	I did not think
+	Thou couldst have spoke so well; ne'er dream'd thou couldst.
+	Had I brought hither a corrupted mind,
+	Thy speech had alter'd it. Hold, here's gold for thee:
+	Persever in that clear way thou goest,
+	And the gods strengthen thee!
+
+MARINA	The good gods preserve you!
+
+LYSIMACHUS	For me, be you thoughten
+	That I came with no ill intent; for to me
+	The very doors and windows savour vilely.
+	Fare thee well. Thou art a piece of virtue, and
+	I doubt not but thy training hath been noble.
+	Hold, here's more gold for thee.
+	A curse upon him, die he like a thief,
+	That robs thee of thy goodness! If thou dost
+	Hear from me, it shall be for thy good.
+
+	[Re-enter BOULT]
+
+BOULT	I beseech your honour, one piece for me.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Avaunt, thou damned door-keeper!
+	Your house, but for this virgin that doth prop it,
+	Would sink and overwhelm you. Away!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BOULT	How's this? We must take another course with you.
+	If your peevish chastity, which is not worth a
+	breakfast in the cheapest country under the cope,
+	shall undo a whole household, let me be gelded like
+	a spaniel. Come your ways.
+
+MARINA	 Whither would you have me?
+
+BOULT	I must have your maidenhead taken off, or the common
+	hangman shall execute it. Come your ways. We'll
+	have no more gentlemen driven away. Come your ways, I say.
+
+	[Re-enter Bawd]
+
+Bawd	How now! what's the matter?
+
+BOULT	Worse and worse, mistress; she has here spoken holy
+	words to the Lord Lysimachus.
+
+Bawd	O abominable!
+
+BOULT	She makes our profession as it were to stink afore
+	the face of the gods.
+
+Bawd	Marry, hang her up for ever!
+
+BOULT	The nobleman would have dealt with her like a
+	nobleman, and she sent him away as cold as a
+	snowball; saying his prayers too.
+
+Bawd	Boult, take her away; use her at thy pleasure:
+	crack the glass of her virginity, and make the rest malleable.
+
+BOULT	An if she were a thornier piece of ground than she
+	is, she shall be ploughed.
+
+MARINA	Hark, hark, you gods!
+
+Bawd	She conjures: away with her! Would she had never
+	come within my doors! Marry, hang you! She's born
+	to undo us. Will you not go the way of women-kind?
+	Marry, come up, my dish of chastity with rosemary and bays!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BOULT	Come, mistress; come your ways with me.
+
+MARINA	Whither wilt thou have me?
+
+BOULT	To take from you the jewel you hold so dear.
+
+MARINA	Prithee, tell me one thing first.
+
+BOULT	Come now, your one thing.
+
+MARINA	What canst thou wish thine enemy to be?
+
+BOULT	Why, I could wish him to be my master, or rather, my mistress.
+
+MARINA	Neither of these are so bad as thou art,
+	Since they do better thee in their command.
+	Thou hold'st a place, for which the pained'st fiend
+	Of hell would not in reputation change:
+	Thou art the damned doorkeeper to every
+	Coistrel that comes inquiring for his Tib;
+	To the choleric fisting of every rogue
+	Thy ear is liable; thy food is such
+	As hath been belch'd on by infected lungs.
+
+BOULT	What would you have me do? go to the wars, would
+	you? where a man may serve seven years for the loss
+	of a leg, and have not money enough in the end to
+	buy him a wooden one?
+
+MARINA	Do any thing but this thou doest. Empty
+	OLD receptacles, or common shores, of filth;
+	Serve by indenture to the common hangman:
+	Any of these ways are yet better than this;
+	For what thou professest, a baboon, could he speak,
+	Would own a name too dear. O, that the gods
+	Would safely deliver me from this place!
+	Here, here's gold for thee.
+	If that thy master would gain by thee,
+	Proclaim that I can sing, weave, sew, and dance,
+	With other virtues, which I'll keep from boast:
+	And I will undertake all these to teach.
+	I doubt not but this populous city will
+	Yield many scholars.
+
+BOULT	But can you teach all this you speak of?
+
+MARINA	Prove that I cannot, take me home again,
+	And prostitute me to the basest groom
+	That doth frequent your house.
+
+BOULT	Well, I will see what I can do for thee: if I can
+	place thee, I will.
+
+MARINA	But amongst honest women.
+
+BOULT	'Faith, my acquaintance lies little amongst them.
+	But since my master and mistress have bought you,
+	there's no going but by their consent: therefore I
+	will make them acquainted with your purpose, and I
+	doubt not but I shall find them tractable enough.
+	Come, I'll do for thee what I can; come your ways.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+	[Enter GOWER]
+
+GOWER	Marina thus the brothel 'scapes, and chances
+	Into an honest house, our story says.
+	She sings like one immortal, and she dances
+	As goddess-like to her admired lays;
+	Deep clerks she dumbs; and with her needle composes
+	Nature's own shape, of bud, bird, branch, or berry,
+	That even her art sisters the natural roses;
+	Her inkle, silk, twin with the rubied cherry:
+	That pupils lacks she none of noble race,
+	Who pour their bounty on her; and her gain
+	She gives the cursed bawd. Here we her place;
+	And to her father turn our thoughts again,
+	Where we left him, on the sea. We there him lost;
+	Whence, driven before the winds, he is arrived
+	Here where his daughter dwells; and on this coast
+	Suppose him now at anchor. The city strived
+	God Neptune's annual feast to keep: from whence
+	Lysimachus our Tyrian ship espies,
+	His banners sable, trimm'd with rich expense;
+	And to him in his barge with fervor hies.
+	In your supposing once more put your sight
+	Of heavy Pericles; think this his bark:
+	Where what is done in action, more, if might,
+	Shall be discover'd; please you, sit and hark.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	On board PERICLES' ship, off Mytilene. A close
+	pavilion on deck, with a curtain before it; PERICLES
+	within it, reclined on a couch. A barge lying
+	beside the Tyrian vessel.
+
+
+	[Enter two Sailors, one belonging to the Tyrian
+	vessel, the other to the barge; to them HELICANUS]
+
+Tyrian Sailor	[To the Sailor of Mytilene]  Where is lord Helicanus?
+	he can resolve you.
+	O, here he is.
+	Sir, there's a barge put off from Mytilene,
+	And in it is Lysimachus the governor,
+	Who craves to come aboard. What is your will?
+
+HELICANUS	That he have his. Call up some gentlemen.
+
+Tyrian Sailor	Ho, gentlemen! my lord calls.
+
+	[Enter two or three Gentlemen]
+
+First Gentleman	Doth your lordship call?
+
+HELICANUS	Gentlemen, there's some of worth would come aboard;
+	I pray ye, greet them fairly.
+
+	[The Gentlemen and the two Sailors descend, and go
+	on board the barge]
+
+	[Enter, from thence, LYSIMACHUS and Lords; with the
+	Gentlemen and the two Sailors]
+
+Tyrian Sailor	Sir,
+	This is the man that can, in aught you would,
+	Resolve you.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Hail, reverend sir! the gods preserve you!
+
+HELICANUS	And you, sir, to outlive the age I am,
+	And die as I would do.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	You wish me well.
+	Being on shore, honouring of Neptune's triumphs,
+	Seeing this goodly vessel ride before us,
+	I made to it, to know of whence you are.
+
+HELICANUS	First, what is your place?
+
+LYSIMACHUS	I am the governor of this place you lie before.
+
+HELICANUS	Sir,
+	Our vessel is of Tyre, in it the king;
+	A man who for this three months hath not spoken
+	To any one, nor taken sustenance
+	But to prorogue his grief.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Upon what ground is his distemperature?
+
+HELICANUS	'Twould be too tedious to repeat;
+	But the main grief springs from the loss
+	Of a beloved daughter and a wife.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	May we not see him?
+
+HELICANUS	You may;
+	But bootless is your sight: he will not speak To any.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Yet let me obtain my wish.
+
+HELICANUS	Behold him.
+
+	[PERICLES discovered]
+
+	This was a goodly person,
+	Till the disaster that, one mortal night,
+	Drove him to this.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Sir king, all hail! the gods preserve you!
+	Hail, royal sir!
+
+HELICANUS	It is in vain; he will not speak to you.
+
+First Lord	Sir,
+	We have a maid in Mytilene, I durst wager,
+	Would win some words of him.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	'Tis well bethought.
+	She questionless with her sweet harmony
+	And other chosen attractions, would allure,
+	And make a battery through his deafen'd parts,
+	Which now are midway stopp'd:
+	She is all happy as the fairest of all,
+	And, with her fellow maids is now upon
+	The leafy shelter that abuts against
+	The island's side.
+
+	[Whispers a Lord, who goes off in the barge of
+	LYSIMACHUS]
+
+HELICANUS	Sure, all's effectless; yet nothing we'll omit
+	That bears recovery's name. But, since your kindness
+	We have stretch'd thus far, let us beseech you
+	That for our gold we may provision have,
+	Wherein we are not destitute for want,
+	But weary for the staleness.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	O, sir, a courtesy
+	Which if we should deny, the most just gods
+	For every graff would send a caterpillar,
+	And so afflict our province. Yet once more
+	Let me entreat to know at large the cause
+	Of your king's sorrow.
+
+HELICANUS	Sit, sir, I will recount it to you:
+	But, see, I am prevented.
+
+	[Re-enter, from the barge, Lord, with MARINA, and a
+	young Lady]
+
+LYSIMACHUS	O, here is
+	The lady that I sent for. Welcome, fair one!
+	Is't not a goodly presence?
+
+HELICANUS	She's a gallant lady.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	She's such a one, that, were I well assured
+	Came of a gentle kind and noble stock,
+	I'ld wish no better choice, and think me rarely wed.
+	Fair one, all goodness that consists in bounty
+	Expect even here, where is a kingly patient:
+	If that thy prosperous and artificial feat
+	Can draw him but to answer thee in aught,
+	Thy sacred physic shall receive such pay
+	As thy desires can wish.
+
+MARINA	Sir, I will use
+	My utmost skill in his recovery, Provided
+	That none but I and my companion maid
+	Be suffer'd to come near him.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Come, let us leave her;
+	And the gods make her prosperous!
+
+	[MARINA sings]
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Mark'd he your music?
+
+MARINA	No, nor look'd on us.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	See, she will speak to him.
+
+MARINA	Hail, sir! my lord, lend ear.
+
+PERICLES	Hum, ha!
+
+MARINA	I am a maid,
+	My lord, that ne'er before invited eyes,
+	But have been gazed on like a comet: she speaks,
+	My lord, that, may be, hath endured a grief
+	Might equal yours, if both were justly weigh'd.
+	Though wayward fortune did malign my state,
+	My derivation was from ancestors
+	Who stood equivalent with mighty kings:
+	But time hath rooted out my parentage,
+	And to the world and awkward casualties
+	Bound me in servitude.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+		 I will desist;
+	But there is something glows upon my cheek,
+	And whispers in mine ear, 'Go not till he speak.'
+
+PERICLES	My fortunes--parentage--good parentage--
+	To equal mine!--was it not thus? what say you?
+
+MARINA	I said, my lord, if you did know my parentage,
+	You would not do me violence.
+
+PERICLES	I do think so. Pray you, turn your eyes upon me.
+	You are like something that--What country-woman?
+	Here of these shores?
+
+MARINA	No, nor of any shores:
+	Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am
+	No other than I appear.
+
+PERICLES	I am great with woe, and shall deliver weeping.
+	My dearest wife was like this maid, and such a one
+	My daughter might have been: my queen's square brows;
+	Her stature to an inch; as wand-like straight;
+	As silver-voiced; her eyes as jewel-like
+	And cased as richly; in pace another Juno;
+	Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry,
+	The more she gives them speech. Where do you live?
+
+MARINA	Where I am but a stranger: from the deck
+	You may discern the place.
+
+PERICLES	Where were you bred?
+	And how achieved you these endowments, which
+	You make more rich to owe?
+
+MARINA	If I should tell my history, it would seem
+	Like lies disdain'd in the reporting.
+
+PERICLES	Prithee, speak:
+	Falseness cannot come from thee; for thou look'st
+	Modest as Justice, and thou seem'st a palace
+	For the crown'd Truth to dwell in: I will
+	believe thee,
+	And make my senses credit thy relation
+	To points that seem impossible; for thou look'st
+	Like one I loved indeed. What were thy friends?
+	Didst thou not say, when I did push thee back--
+	Which was when I perceived thee--that thou camest
+	From good descending?
+
+MARINA	So indeed I did.
+
+PERICLES	Report thy parentage. I think thou said'st
+	Thou hadst been toss'd from wrong to injury,
+	And that thou thought'st thy griefs might equal mine,
+	If both were open'd.
+
+MARINA	Some such thing
+	I said, and said no more but what my thoughts
+	Did warrant me was likely.
+
+PERICLES	Tell thy story;
+	If thine consider'd prove the thousandth part
+	Of my endurance, thou art a man, and I
+	Have suffer'd like a girl: yet thou dost look
+	Like Patience gazing on kings' graves, and smiling
+	Extremity out of act. What were thy friends?
+	How lost thou them? Thy name, my most kind virgin?
+	Recount, I do beseech thee: come, sit by me.
+
+MARINA	My name is Marina.
+
+PERICLES	                  O, I am mock'd,
+	And thou by some incensed god sent hither
+	To make the world to laugh at me.
+
+MARINA	Patience, good sir,
+	Or here I'll cease.
+
+PERICLES	Nay, I'll be patient.
+	Thou little know'st how thou dost startle me,
+	To call thyself Marina.
+
+MARINA	The name
+	Was given me by one that had some power,
+	My father, and a king.
+
+PERICLES	How! a king's daughter?
+	And call'd Marina?
+
+MARINA	                  You said you would believe me;
+	But, not to be a troubler of your peace,
+	I will end here.
+
+PERICLES	                  But are you flesh and blood?
+	Have you a working pulse? and are no fairy?
+	Motion! Well; speak on. Where were you born?
+	And wherefore call'd Marina?
+
+MARINA	Call'd Marina
+	For I was born at sea.
+
+PERICLES	At sea! what mother?
+
+MARINA	My mother was the daughter of a king;
+	Who died the minute I was born,
+	As my good nurse Lychorida hath oft
+	Deliver'd weeping.
+
+PERICLES	                  O, stop there a little!
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	This is the rarest dream that e'er dull sleep
+	Did mock sad fools withal: this cannot be:
+	My daughter's buried. Well: where were you bred?
+	I'll hear you more, to the bottom of your story,
+	And never interrupt you.
+
+MARINA	You scorn: believe me, 'twere best I did give o'er.
+
+PERICLES	I will believe you by the syllable
+	Of what you shall deliver. Yet, give me leave:
+	How came you in these parts? where were you bred?
+
+MARINA	The king my father did in Tarsus leave me;
+	Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,
+	Did seek to murder me: and having woo'd
+	A villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do't,
+	A crew of pirates came and rescued me;
+	Brought me to Mytilene. But, good sir,
+	Whither will you have me? Why do you weep?
+	It may be,
+	You think me an impostor: no, good faith;
+	I am the daughter to King Pericles,
+	If good King Pericles be.
+
+PERICLES	Ho, Helicanus!
+
+HELICANUS	Calls my lord?
+
+PERICLES	Thou art a grave and noble counsellor,
+	Most wise in general: tell me, if thou canst,
+	What this maid is, or what is like to be,
+	That thus hath made me weep?
+
+HELICANUS	I know not; but
+	Here is the regent, sir, of Mytilene
+	Speaks nobly of her.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	She would never tell
+	Her parentage; being demanded that,
+	She would sit still and weep.
+
+PERICLES	O Helicanus, strike me, honour'd sir;
+	Give me a gash, put me to present pain;
+	Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me
+	O'erbear the shores of my mortality,
+	And drown me with their sweetness. O, come hither,
+	Thou that beget'st him that did thee beget;
+	Thou that wast born at sea, buried at Tarsus,
+	And found at sea again! O Helicanus,
+	Down on thy knees, thank the holy gods as loud
+	As thunder threatens us: this is Marina.
+	What was thy mother's name? tell me but that,
+	For truth can never be confirm'd enough,
+	Though doubts did ever sleep.
+
+MARINA	First, sir, I pray,
+	What is your title?
+
+PERICLES	I am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now
+	My drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said
+	Thou hast been godlike perfect,
+	The heir of kingdoms and another like
+	To Pericles thy father.
+
+MARINA	Is it no more to be your daughter than
+	To say my mother's name was Thaisa?
+	Thaisa was my mother, who did end
+	The minute I began.
+
+PERICLES	Now, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child.
+	Give me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus;
+	She is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,
+	By savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all;
+	When thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge
+	She is thy very princess. Who is this?
+
+HELICANUS	Sir, 'tis the governor of Mytilene,
+	Who, hearing of your melancholy state,
+	Did come to see you.
+
+PERICLES	I embrace you.
+	Give me my robes. I am wild in my beholding.
+	O heavens bless my girl! But, hark, what music?
+	Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him
+	O'er, point by point, for yet he seems to doubt,
+	How sure you are my daughter. But, what music?
+
+HELICANUS	My lord, I hear none.
+
+PERICLES	None!
+	The music of the spheres! List, my Marina.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	It is not good to cross him; give him way.
+
+PERICLES	Rarest sounds! Do ye not hear?
+
+LYSIMACHUS	My lord, I hear.
+
+	[Music]
+
+PERICLES	Most heavenly music!
+	It nips me unto listening, and thick slumber
+	Hangs upon mine eyes: let me rest.
+
+	[Sleeps]
+
+LYSIMACHUS	A pillow for his head:
+	So, leave him all. Well, my companion friends,
+	If this but answer to my just belief,
+	I'll well remember you.
+
+	[Exeunt all but PERICLES]
+
+	[DIANA appears to PERICLES as in a vision]
+
+DIANA	My temple stands in Ephesus: hie thee thither,
+	And do upon mine altar sacrifice.
+	There, when my maiden priests are met together,
+	Before the people all,
+	Reveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife:
+	To mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call
+	And give them repetition to the life.
+	Or perform my bidding, or thou livest in woe;
+	Do it, and happy; by my silver bow!
+	Awake, and tell thy dream.
+
+	[Disappears]
+
+PERICLES	Celestial Dian, goddess argentine,
+	I will obey thee. Helicanus!
+
+	[Re-enter HELICANUS, LYSIMACHUS, and MARINA]
+
+HELICANUS	Sir?
+
+PERICLES	My purpose was for Tarsus, there to strike
+	The inhospitable Cleon; but I am
+	For other service first: toward Ephesus
+	Turn our blown sails; eftsoons I'll tell thee why.
+
+	[To LYSIMACHUS]
+
+	Shall we refresh us, sir, upon your shore,
+	And give you gold for such provision
+	As our intents will need?
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Sir,
+	With all my heart; and, when you come ashore,
+	I have another suit.
+
+PERICLES	You shall prevail,
+	Were it to woo my daughter; for it seems
+	You have been noble towards her.
+
+LYSIMACHUS	Sir, lend me your arm.
+
+PERICLES	Come, my Marina.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II:
+
+
+	[Enter GOWER, before the temple of DIANA at Ephesus]
+
+GOWER	Now our sands are almost run;
+	More a little, and then dumb.
+	This, my last boon, give me,
+	For such kindness must relieve me,
+	That you aptly will suppose
+	What pageantry, what feats, what shows,
+	What minstrelsy, and pretty din,
+	The regent made in Mytilene
+	To greet the king. So he thrived,
+	That he is promised to be wived
+	To fair Marina; but in no wise
+	Till he had done his sacrifice,
+	As Dian bade: whereto being bound,
+	The interim, pray you, all confound.
+	In feather'd briefness sails are fill'd,
+	And wishes fall out as they're will'd.
+	At Ephesus, the temple see,
+	Our king and all his company.
+	That he can hither come so soon,
+	Is by your fancy's thankful doom.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+SCENE III	The temple of Diana at Ephesus; THAISA standing
+	near the altar, as high priestess; a number of
+	Virgins on each side; CERIMON and other Inhabitants
+	of Ephesus attending.
+
+
+	[Enter PERICLES, with his train; LYSIMACHUS,
+	HELICANUS, MARINA, and a Lady]
+
+PERICLES	Hail, Dian! to perform thy just command,
+	I here confess myself the king of Tyre;
+	Who, frighted from my country, did wed
+	At Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.
+	At sea in childbed died she, but brought forth
+	A maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess,
+	Wears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus
+	Was nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years
+	He sought to murder: but her better stars
+	Brought her to Mytilene; 'gainst whose shore
+	Riding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,
+	Where, by her own most clear remembrance, she
+	Made known herself my daughter.
+
+THAISA	Voice and favour!
+	You are, you are--O royal Pericles!
+
+	[Faints]
+
+PERICLES	What means the nun? she dies! help, gentlemen!
+
+CERIMON	Noble sir,
+	If you have told Diana's altar true,
+	This is your wife.
+
+PERICLES	                  Reverend appearer, no;
+	I threw her overboard with these very arms.
+
+CERIMON	Upon this coast, I warrant you.
+
+PERICLES	'Tis most certain.
+
+CERIMON	Look to the lady; O, she's but o'erjoy'd.
+	Early in blustering morn this lady was
+	Thrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,
+	Found there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her
+	Here in Diana's temple.
+
+PERICLES	May we see them?
+
+CERIMON	Great sir, they shall be brought you to my house,
+	Whither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is recovered.
+
+THAISA	O, let me look!
+	If he be none of mine, my sanctity
+	Will to my sense bend no licentious ear,
+	But curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,
+	Are you not Pericles? Like him you spake,
+	Like him you are: did you not name a tempest,
+	A birth, and death?
+
+PERICLES	The voice of dead Thaisa!
+
+THAISA	That Thaisa am I, supposed dead
+	And drown'd.
+
+PERICLES	Immortal Dian!
+
+THAISA	                  Now I know you better.
+	When we with tears parted Pentapolis,
+	The king my father gave you such a ring.
+
+	[Shows a ring]
+
+PERICLES	This, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness
+	Makes my past miseries sports: you shall do well,
+	That on the touching of her lips I may
+	Melt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried
+	A second time within these arms.
+
+MARINA	My heart
+	Leaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.
+
+	[Kneels to THAISA]
+
+PERICLES	Look, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;
+	Thy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina
+	For she was yielded there.
+
+THAISA	Blest, and mine own!
+
+HELICANUS	Hail, madam, and my queen!
+
+THAISA	I know you not.
+
+PERICLES	You have heard me say, when I did fly from Tyre,
+	I left behind an ancient substitute:
+	Can you remember what I call'd the man?
+	I have named him oft.
+
+THAISA	'Twas Helicanus then.
+
+PERICLES	Still confirmation:
+	Embrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.
+	Now do I long to hear how you were found;
+	How possibly preserved; and who to thank,
+	Besides the gods, for this great miracle.
+
+THAISA	Lord Cerimon, my lord; this man,
+	Through whom the gods have shown their power; that can
+	From first to last resolve you.
+
+PERICLES	Reverend sir,
+	The gods can have no mortal officer
+	More like a god than you. Will you deliver
+	How this dead queen re-lives?
+
+CERIMON	I will, my lord.
+	Beseech you, first go with me to my house,
+	Where shall be shown you all was found with her;
+	How she came placed here in the temple;
+	No needful thing omitted.
+
+PERICLES	Pure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! I
+	Will offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa,
+	This prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter,
+	Shall marry her at Pentapolis. And now,
+	This ornament
+	Makes me look dismal will I clip to form;
+	And what this fourteen years no razor touch'd,
+	To grace thy marriage-day, I'll beautify.
+
+THAISA	Lord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, sir,
+	My father's dead.
+
+PERICLES	Heavens make a star of him! Yet there, my queen,
+	We'll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves
+	Will in that kingdom spend our following days:
+	Our son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign.
+	Lord Cerimon, we do our longing stay
+	To hear the rest untold: sir, lead's the way.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Enter GOWER]
+
+GOWER	In Antiochus and his daughter you have heard
+	Of monstrous lust the due and just reward:
+	In Pericles, his queen and daughter, seen,
+	Although assail'd with fortune fierce and keen,
+	Virtue preserved from fell destruction's blast,
+	Led on by heaven, and crown'd with joy at last:
+	In Helicanus may you well descry
+	A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty:
+	In reverend Cerimon there well appears
+	The worth that learned charity aye wears:
+	For wicked Cleon and his wife, when fame
+	Had spread their cursed deed, and honour'd name
+	Of Pericles, to rage the city turn,
+	That him and his they in his palace burn;
+	The gods for murder seemed so content
+	To punish them; although not done, but meant.
+	So, on your patience evermore attending,
+	New joy wait on you! Here our play has ending.
+
+	[Exit]
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+	A Lord.		|
+			|
+CHRISTOPHER SLY	a tinker. (SLY:)		|  Persons in
+			|  the Induction.
+	Hostess, Page, Players,	|
+	Huntsmen, and Servants.	|
+	(Hostess:)
+	(Page:)
+	(A Player:)
+	(First Huntsman:)
+	(Second Huntsman:)
+	(Messenger:)
+	(First Servant:)
+	(Second Servant:)
+	(Third Servant:)
+
+
+BAPTISTA	a rich gentleman of Padua.
+
+VINCENTIO	an old gentleman of Pisa.
+
+LUCENTIO	son to Vincentio, in love with Bianca.
+
+PETRUCHIO	a gentleman of Verona, a suitor to
+	Katharina.
+
+
+GREMIO	|
+	| suitors to Bianca.
+HORTENSIO	|
+
+
+TRANIO	|
+	| servants to Lucentio.
+BIONDELLO	|
+
+
+GRUMIO	|
+	|
+CURTIS	|
+	|
+NATHANIEL	|
+	|
+NICHOLAS	|  servants to Petruchio.
+	|
+JOSEPH	|
+	|
+PHILIP	|
+	|
+PETER	|
+
+	A Pedant.
+
+
+KATHARINA the shrew,	|
+		| daughters to Baptista.
+BIANCA		|
+
+	Widow.
+
+	Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending
+	on Baptista and Petruchio.
+	(Tailor:)
+	(Haberdasher:)
+	(First Servant:)
+
+
+SCENE	Padua, and Petruchio's country house.
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+	INDUCTION
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before an alehouse on a heath.
+
+
+	[Enter Hostess and SLY]
+
+SLY	I'll pheeze you, in faith.
+
+Hostess	A pair of stocks, you rogue!
+
+SLY	Ye are a baggage: the Slys are no rogues; look in
+	the chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror.
+	Therefore paucas pallabris; let the world slide: sessa!
+
+Hostess	You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?
+
+SLY	No, not a denier. Go by, Jeronimy: go to thy cold
+	bed, and warm thee.
+
+Hostess	I know my remedy; I must go fetch the
+	third--borough.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SLY	Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him
+	by law: I'll not budge an inch, boy: let him come,
+	and kindly.
+
+	[Falls asleep]
+
+	[Horns winded. Enter a Lord from hunting, with his train]
+
+Lord	Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds:
+	Brach Merriman, the poor cur is emboss'd;
+	And couple Clowder with the deep--mouth'd brach.
+	Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good
+	At the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault?
+	I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.
+
+First Huntsman	Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;
+	He cried upon it at the merest loss
+	And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent:
+	Trust me, I take him for the better dog.
+
+Lord	Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet,
+	I would esteem him worth a dozen such.
+	But sup them well and look unto them all:
+	To-morrow I intend to hunt again.
+
+First Huntsman	I will, my lord.
+
+Lord	What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe?
+
+Second Huntsman	He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with ale,
+	This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly.
+
+Lord	O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lies!
+	Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
+	Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.
+	What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,
+	Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
+	A most delicious banquet by his bed,
+	And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
+	Would not the beggar then forget himself?
+
+First Huntsman	Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.
+
+Second Huntsman	It would seem strange unto him when he waked.
+
+Lord	Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy.
+	Then take him up and manage well the jest:
+	Carry him gently to my fairest chamber
+	And hang it round with all my wanton pictures:
+	Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters
+	And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet:
+	Procure me music ready when he wakes,
+	To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;
+	And if he chance to speak, be ready straight
+	And with a low submissive reverence
+	Say 'What is it your honour will command?'
+	Let one attend him with a silver basin
+	Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers,
+	Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,
+	And say 'Will't please your lordship cool your hands?'
+	Some one be ready with a costly suit
+	And ask him what apparel he will wear;
+	Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
+	And that his lady mourns at his disease:
+	Persuade him that he hath been lunatic;
+	And when he says he is, say that he dreams,
+	For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
+	This do and do it kindly, gentle sirs:
+	It will be pastime passing excellent,
+	If it be husbanded with modesty.
+
+First Huntsman	My lord, I warrant you we will play our part,
+	As he shall think by our true diligence
+	He is no less than what we say he is.
+
+Lord	Take him up gently and to bed with him;
+	And each one to his office when he wakes.
+
+	[Some bear out SLY. A trumpet sounds]
+
+	Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds:
+
+	[Exit Servingman]
+
+	Belike, some noble gentleman that means,
+	Travelling some journey, to repose him here.
+
+	[Re-enter Servingman]
+
+	How now! who is it?
+
+Servant	An't please your honour, players
+	That offer service to your lordship.
+
+Lord	Bid them come near.
+
+	[Enter Players]
+
+	Now, fellows, you are welcome.
+
+Players	We thank your honour.
+
+Lord	Do you intend to stay with me tonight?
+
+A Player	So please your lordship to accept our duty.
+
+Lord	With all my heart. This fellow I remember,
+	Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son:
+	'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well:
+	I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part
+	Was aptly fitted and naturally perform'd.
+
+A Player	I think 'twas Soto that your honour means.
+
+Lord	'Tis very true: thou didst it excellent.
+	Well, you are come to me in a happy time;
+	The rather for I have some sport in hand
+	Wherein your cunning can assist me much.
+	There is a lord will hear you play to-night:
+	But I am doubtful of your modesties;
+	Lest over-eyeing of his odd behavior,--
+	For yet his honour never heard a play--
+	You break into some merry passion
+	And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,
+	If you should smile he grows impatient.
+
+A Player	Fear not, my lord: we can contain ourselves,
+	Were he the veriest antic in the world.
+
+Lord	Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery,
+	And give them friendly welcome every one:
+	Let them want nothing that my house affords.
+
+	[Exit one with the Players]
+
+	Sirrah, go you to Barthol'mew my page,
+	And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady:
+	That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber;
+	And call him 'madam,' do him obeisance.
+	Tell him from me, as he will win my love,
+	He bear himself with honourable action,
+	Such as he hath observed in noble ladies
+	Unto their lords, by them accomplished:
+	Such duty to the drunkard let him do
+	With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,
+	And say 'What is't your honour will command,
+	Wherein your lady and your humble wife
+	May show her duty and make known her love?'
+	And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses,
+	And with declining head into his bosom,
+	Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd
+	To see her noble lord restored to health,
+	Who for this seven years hath esteem'd him
+	No better than a poor and loathsome beggar:
+	And if the boy have not a woman's gift
+	To rain a shower of commanded tears,
+	An onion will do well for such a shift,
+	Which in a napkin being close convey'd
+	Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
+	See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst:
+	Anon I'll give thee more instructions.
+
+	[Exit a Servingman]
+
+	I know the boy will well usurp the grace,
+	Voice, gait and action of a gentlewoman:
+	I long to hear him call the drunkard husband,
+	And how my men will stay themselves from laughter
+	When they do homage to this simple peasant.
+	I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence
+	May well abate the over-merry spleen
+	Which otherwise would grow into extremes.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+	INDUCTION
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A bedchamber in the Lord's house.
+
+
+	[Enter aloft SLY, with Attendants; some with apparel,
+	others with basin and ewer and appurtenances; and Lord]
+
+SLY	For God's sake, a pot of small ale.
+
+First Servant	Will't please your lordship drink a cup of sack?
+
+Second Servant	Will't please your honour taste of these conserves?
+
+Third Servant	What raiment will your honour wear to-day?
+
+SLY	I am Christophero Sly; call not me 'honour' nor
+	'lordship:' I ne'er drank sack in my life; and if
+	you give me any conserves, give me conserves of
+	beef: ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear; for I
+	have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings
+	than legs, nor no more shoes than feet; nay,
+	sometimes more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my
+	toes look through the over-leather.
+
+Lord	Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour!
+	O, that a mighty man of such descent,
+	Of such possessions and so high esteem,
+	Should be infused with so foul a spirit!
+
+SLY	What, would you make me mad? Am not I Christopher
+	Sly, old Sly's son of Burtonheath, by birth a
+	pedlar, by education a cardmaker, by transmutation a
+	bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker?
+	Ask Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if
+	she know me not: if she say I am not fourteen pence
+	on the score for sheer ale, score me up for the
+	lyingest knave in Christendom. What! I am not
+	bestraught: here's--
+
+Third Servant	O, this it is that makes your lady mourn!
+
+Second Servant	O, this is it that makes your servants droop!
+
+Lord	Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house,
+	As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
+	O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth,
+	Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment
+	And banish hence these abject lowly dreams.
+	Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
+	Each in his office ready at thy beck.
+	Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays,
+
+	[Music]
+
+	And twenty caged nightingales do sing:
+	Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch
+	Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
+	On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
+	Say thou wilt walk; we will bestrew the ground:
+	Or wilt thou ride? thy horses shall be trapp'd,
+	Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.
+	Dost thou love hawking? thou hast hawks will soar
+	Above the morning lark or wilt thou hunt?
+	Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them
+	And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.
+
+First Servant	Say thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift
+	As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe.
+
+Second Servant	Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee straight
+	Adonis painted by a running brook,
+	And Cytherea all in sedges hid,
+	Which seem to move and wanton with her breath,
+	Even as the waving sedges play with wind.
+
+Lord	We'll show thee Io as she was a maid,
+	And how she was beguiled and surprised,
+	As lively painted as the deed was done.
+
+Third Servant	Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood,
+	Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds,
+	And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep,
+	So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.
+
+Lord	Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord:
+	Thou hast a lady far more beautiful
+	Than any woman in this waning age.
+
+First Servant	And till the tears that she hath shed for thee
+	Like envious floods o'er-run her lovely face,
+	She was the fairest creature in the world;
+	And yet she is inferior to none.
+
+SLY	Am I a lord? and have I such a lady?
+	Or do I dream? or have I dream'd till now?
+	I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak;
+	I smell sweet savours and I feel soft things:
+	Upon my life, I am a lord indeed
+	And not a tinker nor Christophero Sly.
+	Well, bring our lady hither to our sight;
+	And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale.
+
+Second Servant	Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands?
+	O, how we joy to see your wit restored!
+	O, that once more you knew but what you are!
+	These fifteen years you have been in a dream;
+	Or when you waked, so waked as if you slept.
+
+SLY	These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap.
+	But did I never speak of all that time?
+
+First Servant	O, yes, my lord, but very idle words:
+	For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
+	Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door;
+	And rail upon the hostess of the house;
+	And say you would present her at the leet,
+	Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts:
+	Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.
+
+SLY	Ay, the woman's maid of the house.
+
+Third Servant	Why, sir, you know no house nor no such maid,
+	Nor no such men as you have reckon'd up,
+	As Stephen Sly and did John Naps of Greece
+	And Peter Turph and Henry Pimpernell
+	And twenty more such names and men as these
+	Which never were nor no man ever saw.
+
+SLY	Now Lord be thanked for my good amends!
+
+ALL	Amen.
+
+SLY	I thank thee: thou shalt not lose by it.
+
+	[Enter the Page as a lady, with attendants]
+
+Page	How fares my noble lord?
+
+SLY	Marry, I fare well for here is cheer enough.
+	Where is my wife?
+
+Page	Here, noble lord: what is thy will with her?
+
+SLY	Are you my wife and will not call me husband?
+	My men should call me 'lord:' I am your goodman.
+
+Page	My husband and my lord, my lord and husband;
+	I am your wife in all obedience.
+
+SLY	I know it well. What must I call her?
+
+Lord	Madam.
+
+SLY	Al'ce madam, or Joan madam?
+
+Lord	'Madam,' and nothing else: so lords
+	call ladies.
+
+SLY	Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd
+	And slept above some fifteen year or more.
+
+Page	Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me,
+	Being all this time abandon'd from your bed.
+
+SLY	'Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone.
+	Madam, undress you and come now to bed.
+
+Page	Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you
+	To pardon me yet for a night or two,
+	Or, if not so, until the sun be set:
+	For your physicians have expressly charged,
+	In peril to incur your former malady,
+	That I should yet absent me from your bed:
+	I hope this reason stands for my excuse.
+
+SLY	Ay, it stands so that I may hardly
+	tarry so long. But I would be loath to fall into
+	my dreams again: I will therefore tarry in
+	despite of the flesh and the blood.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	Your honour's players, heating your amendment,
+	Are come to play a pleasant comedy;
+	For so your doctors hold it very meet,
+	Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood,
+	And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy:
+	Therefore they thought it good you hear a play
+	And frame your mind to mirth and merriment,
+	Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.
+
+SLY	Marry, I will, let them play it. Is not a
+	comondy a Christmas gambold or a tumbling-trick?
+
+Page	No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff.
+
+SLY	What, household stuff?
+
+Page	It is a kind of history.
+
+SLY	Well, well see't. Come, madam wife, sit by my side
+	and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.
+
+	[Flourish]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Padua. A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter LUCENTIO and his man TRANIO]
+
+LUCENTIO	Tranio, since for the great desire I had
+	To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,
+	I am arrived for fruitful Lombardy,
+	The pleasant garden of great Italy;
+	And by my father's love and leave am arm'd
+	With his good will and thy good company,
+	My trusty servant, well approved in all,
+	Here let us breathe and haply institute
+	A course of learning and ingenious studies.
+	Pisa renown'd for grave citizens
+	Gave me my being and my father first,
+	A merchant of great traffic through the world,
+	Vincetino come of Bentivolii.
+	Vincetino's son brought up in Florence
+	It shall become to serve all hopes conceived,
+	To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds:
+	And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
+	Virtue and that part of philosophy
+	Will I apply that treats of happiness
+	By virtue specially to be achieved.
+	Tell me thy mind; for I have Pisa left
+	And am to Padua come, as he that leaves
+	A shallow plash to plunge him in the deep
+	And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.
+
+TRANIO	Mi perdonato, gentle master mine,
+	I am in all affected as yourself;
+	Glad that you thus continue your resolve
+	To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
+	Only, good master, while we do admire
+	This virtue and this moral discipline,
+	Let's be no stoics nor no stocks, I pray;
+	Or so devote to Aristotle's cheques
+	As Ovid be an outcast quite abjured:
+	Balk logic with acquaintance that you have
+	And practise rhetoric in your common talk;
+	Music and poesy use to quicken you;
+	The mathematics and the metaphysics,
+	Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you;
+	No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en:
+	In brief, sir, study what you most affect.
+
+LUCENTIO	Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.
+	If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,
+	We could at once put us in readiness,
+	And take a lodging fit to entertain
+	Such friends as time in Padua shall beget.
+	But stay a while: what company is this?
+
+TRANIO	Master, some show to welcome us to town.
+
+	[Enter BAPTISTA, KATHARINA, BIANCA, GREMIO, and
+	HORTENSIO. LUCENTIO and TRANIO stand by]
+
+BAPTISTA	Gentlemen, importune me no farther,
+	For how I firmly am resolved you know;
+	That is, not bestow my youngest daughter
+	Before I have a husband for the elder:
+	If either of you both love Katharina,
+	Because I know you well and love you well,
+	Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.
+
+GREMIO	[Aside]  To cart her rather: she's too rough for me.
+	There, There, Hortensio, will you any wife?
+
+KATHARINA	I pray you, sir, is it your will
+	To make a stale of me amongst these mates?
+
+HORTENSIO	Mates, maid! how mean you that? no mates for you,
+	Unless you were of gentler, milder mould.
+
+KATHARINA	I'faith, sir, you shall never need to fear:
+	I wis it is not half way to her heart;
+	But if it were, doubt not her care should be
+	To comb your noddle with a three-legg'd stool
+	And paint your face and use you like a fool.
+
+HORTENSIA	From all such devils, good Lord deliver us!
+
+GREMIO	And me too, good Lord!
+
+TRANIO	Hush, master! here's some good pastime toward:
+	That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward.
+
+LUCENTIO	But in the other's silence do I see
+	Maid's mild behavior and sobriety.
+	Peace, Tranio!
+
+TRANIO	Well said, master; mum! and gaze your fill.
+
+BAPTISTA	Gentlemen, that I may soon make good
+	What I have said, Bianca, get you in:
+	And let it not displease thee, good Bianca,
+	For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl.
+
+KATHARINA	A pretty peat! it is best
+	Put finger in the eye, an she knew why.
+
+BIANCA	Sister, content you in my discontent.
+	Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe:
+	My books and instruments shall be my company,
+	On them to took and practise by myself.
+
+LUCENTIO	Hark, Tranio! thou may'st hear Minerva speak.
+
+HORTENSIO	Signior Baptista, will you be so strange?
+	Sorry am I that our good will effects
+	Bianca's grief.
+
+GREMIO	                  Why will you mew her up,
+	Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell,
+	And make her bear the penance of her tongue?
+
+BAPTISTA	Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolved:
+	Go in, Bianca:
+
+	[Exit BIANCA]
+
+	And for I know she taketh most delight
+	In music, instruments and poetry,
+	Schoolmasters will I keep within my house,
+	Fit to instruct her youth. If you, Hortensio,
+	Or Signior Gremio, you, know any such,
+	Prefer them hither; for to cunning men
+	I will be very kind, and liberal
+	To mine own children in good bringing up:
+	And so farewell. Katharina, you may stay;
+	For I have more to commune with Bianca.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KATHARINA	Why, and I trust I may go too, may I not? What,
+	shall I be appointed hours; as though, belike, I
+	knew not what to take and what to leave, ha?
+
+	[Exit]
+
+GREMIO	You may go to the devil's dam: your gifts are so
+	good, here's none will hold you. Their love is not
+	so great, Hortensio, but we may blow our nails
+	together, and fast it fairly out: our cakes dough on
+	both sides. Farewell: yet for the love I bear my
+	sweet Bianca, if I can by any means light on a fit
+	man to teach her that wherein she delights, I will
+	wish him to her father.
+
+HORTENSIO	So will I, Signior Gremio: but a word, I pray.
+	Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brooked
+	parle, know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both,
+	that we may yet again have access to our fair
+	mistress and be happy rivals in Bianco's love, to
+	labour and effect one thing specially.
+
+GREMIO	What's that, I pray?
+
+HORTENSIO	Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister.
+
+GREMIO	A husband! a devil.
+
+HORTENSIO	I say, a husband.
+
+GREMIO	I say, a devil. Thinkest thou, Hortensio, though
+	her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool
+	to be married to hell?
+
+HORTENSIO	Tush, Gremio, though it pass your patience and mine
+	to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good
+	fellows in the world, an a man could light on them,
+	would take her with all faults, and money enough.
+
+GREMIO	I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her dowry with
+	this condition, to be whipped at the high cross
+	every morning.
+
+HORTENSIO	Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten
+	apples. But come; since this bar in law makes us
+	friends, it shall be so far forth friendly
+	maintained all by helping Baptista's eldest daughter
+	to a husband we set his youngest free for a husband,
+	and then have to't a fresh. Sweet Bianca! Happy man
+	be his dole! He that runs fastest gets the ring.
+	How say you, Signior Gremio?
+
+GREMIO	I am agreed; and would I had given him the best
+	horse in Padua to begin his wooing that would
+	thoroughly woo her, wed her and bed her and rid the
+	house of her! Come on.
+
+	[Exeunt GREMIO and HORTENSIO]
+
+TRANIO	I pray, sir, tell me, is it possible
+	That love should of a sudden take such hold?
+
+LUCENTIO	O Tranio, till I found it to be true,
+	I never thought it possible or likely;
+	But see, while idly I stood looking on,
+	I found the effect of love in idleness:
+	And now in plainness do confess to thee,
+	That art to me as secret and as dear
+	As Anna to the queen of Carthage was,
+	Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio,
+	If I achieve not this young modest girl.
+	Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst;
+	Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.
+
+TRANIO	Master, it is no time to chide you now;
+	Affection is not rated from the heart:
+	If love have touch'd you, nought remains but so,
+	'Redime te captum quam queas minimo.'
+
+LUCENTIO	Gramercies, lad, go forward; this contents:
+	The rest will comfort, for thy counsel's sound.
+
+TRANIO	Master, you look'd so longly on the maid,
+	Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all.
+
+LUCENTIO	O yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face,
+	Such as the daughter of Agenor had,
+	That made great Jove to humble him to her hand.
+	When with his knees he kiss'd the Cretan strand.
+
+TRANIO	Saw you no more? mark'd you not how her sister
+	Began to scold and raise up such a storm
+	That mortal ears might hardly endure the din?
+
+LUCENTIO	Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move
+	And with her breath she did perfume the air:
+	Sacred and sweet was all I saw in her.
+
+TRANIO	Nay, then, 'tis time to stir him from his trance.
+	I pray, awake, sir: if you love the maid,
+	Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it stands:
+	Her eldest sister is so curst and shrewd
+	That till the father rid his hands of her,
+	Master, your love must live a maid at home;
+	And therefore has he closely mew'd her up,
+	Because she will not be annoy'd with suitors.
+
+LUCENTIO	Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he!
+	But art thou not advised, he took some care
+	To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?
+
+TRANIO	Ay, marry, am I, sir; and now 'tis plotted.
+
+LUCENTIO	I have it, Tranio.
+
+TRANIO	                  Master, for my hand,
+	Both our inventions meet and jump in one.
+
+LUCENTIO	Tell me thine first.
+
+TRANIO	You will be schoolmaster
+	And undertake the teaching of the maid:
+	That's your device.
+
+LUCENTIO	It is: may it be done?
+
+TRANIO	Not possible; for who shall bear your part,
+	And be in Padua here Vincentio's son,
+	Keep house and ply his book, welcome his friends,
+	Visit his countrymen and banquet them?
+
+LUCENTIO	Basta; content thee, for I have it full.
+	We have not yet been seen in any house,
+	Nor can we lie distinguish'd by our faces
+	For man or master; then it follows thus;
+	Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead,
+	Keep house and port and servants as I should:
+	I will some other be, some Florentine,
+	Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa.
+	'Tis hatch'd and shall be so: Tranio, at once
+	Uncase thee; take my colour'd hat and cloak:
+	When Biondello comes, he waits on thee;
+	But I will charm him first to keep his tongue.
+
+TRANIO	So had you need.
+	In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is,
+	And I am tied to be obedient;
+	For so your father charged me at our parting,
+	'Be serviceable to my son,' quoth he,
+	Although I think 'twas in another sense;
+	I am content to be Lucentio,
+	Because so well I love Lucentio.
+
+LUCENTIO	Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves:
+	And let me be a slave, to achieve that maid
+	Whose sudden sight hath thrall'd my wounded eye.
+	Here comes the rogue.
+
+	[Enter BIONDELLO]
+
+		Sirrah, where have you been?
+
+BIONDELLO	Where have I been! Nay, how now! where are you?
+	Master, has my fellow Tranio stolen your clothes? Or
+	you stolen his? or both? pray, what's the news?
+
+LUCENTIO	Sirrah, come hither: 'tis no time to jest,
+	And therefore frame your manners to the time.
+	Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life,
+	Puts my apparel and my countenance on,
+	And I for my escape have put on his;
+	For in a quarrel since I came ashore
+	I kill'd a man and fear I was descried:
+	Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes,
+	While I make way from hence to save my life:
+	You understand me?
+
+BIONDELLO	                  I, sir! ne'er a whit.
+
+LUCENTIO	And not a jot of Tranio in your mouth:
+	Tranio is changed into Lucentio.
+
+BIONDELLO	The better for him: would I were so too!
+
+TRANIO	So could I, faith, boy, to have the next wish after,
+	That Lucentio indeed had Baptista's youngest daughter.
+	But, sirrah, not for my sake, but your master's, I advise
+	You use your manners discreetly in all kind of companies:
+	When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio;
+	But in all places else your master Lucentio.
+
+LUCENTIO	Tranio, let's go: one thing more rests, that
+	thyself execute, to make one among these wooers: if
+	thou ask me why, sufficeth, my reasons are both good
+	and weighty.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[The presenters above speak]
+
+First Servant	My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play.
+
+SLY	Yes, by Saint Anne, do I. A good matter, surely:
+	comes there any more of it?
+
+Page	My lord, 'tis but begun.
+
+SLY	'Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady:
+	would 'twere done!
+
+	[They sit and mark]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Padua. Before HORTENSIO'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter PETRUCHIO and his man GRUMIO]
+
+PETRUCHIO	Verona, for a while I take my leave,
+	To see my friends in Padua, but of all
+	My best beloved and approved friend,
+	Hortensio; and I trow this is his house.
+	Here, sirrah Grumio; knock, I say.
+
+GRUMIO	Knock, sir! whom should I knock? is there man has
+	rebused your worship?
+
+PETRUCHIO	Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.
+
+GRUMIO	Knock you here, sir! why, sir, what am I, sir, that
+	I should knock you here, sir?
+
+PETRUCHIO	Villain, I say, knock me at this gate
+	And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate.
+
+GRUMIO	My master is grown quarrelsome. I should knock
+	you first,
+	And then I know after who comes by the worst.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Will it not be?
+	Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock, I'll ring it;
+	I'll try how you can sol, fa, and sing it.
+
+	[He wrings him by the ears]
+
+GRUMIO	Help, masters, help! my master is mad.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Now, knock when I bid you, sirrah villain!
+
+	[Enter HORTENSIO]
+
+HORTENSIO	How now! what's the matter? My old friend Grumio!
+	and my good friend Petruchio! How do you all at Verona?
+
+PETRUCHIO	Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray?
+	'Con tutto il cuore, ben trovato,' may I say.
+
+HORTENSIO	'Alla nostra casa ben venuto, molto honorato signor
+	mio Petruchio.' Rise, Grumio, rise: we will compound
+	this quarrel.
+
+GRUMIO	Nay, 'tis no matter, sir, what he 'leges in Latin.
+	if this be not a lawful case for me to leave his
+	service, look you, sir, he bid me knock him and rap
+	him soundly, sir: well, was it fit for a servant to
+	use his master so, being perhaps, for aught I see,
+	two and thirty, a pip out? Whom would to God I had
+	well knock'd at first, Then had not Grumio come by the worst.
+
+PETRUCHIO	A senseless villain! Good Hortensio,
+	I bade the rascal knock upon your gate
+	And could not get him for my heart to do it.
+
+GRUMIO	Knock at the gate! O heavens! Spake you not these
+	words plain, 'Sirrah, knock me here, rap me here,
+	knock me well, and knock me soundly'? And come you
+	now with, 'knocking at the gate'?
+
+PETRUCHIO	Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.
+
+HORTENSIO	Petruchio, patience; I am Grumio's pledge:
+	Why, this's a heavy chance 'twixt him and you,
+	Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio.
+	And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale
+	Blows you to Padua here from old Verona?
+
+PETRUCHIO	Such wind as scatters young men through the world,
+	To seek their fortunes farther than at home
+	Where small experience grows. But in a few,
+	Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me:
+	Antonio, my father, is deceased;
+	And I have thrust myself into this maze,
+	Haply to wive and thrive as best I may:
+	Crowns in my purse I have and goods at home,
+	And so am come abroad to see the world.
+
+HORTENSIO	Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee
+	And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife?
+	Thou'ldst thank me but a little for my counsel:
+	And yet I'll promise thee she shall be rich
+	And very rich: but thou'rt too much my friend,
+	And I'll not wish thee to her.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we
+	Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know
+	One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife,
+	As wealth is burden of my wooing dance,
+	Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,
+	As old as Sibyl and as curst and shrewd
+	As Socrates' Xanthippe, or a worse,
+	She moves me not, or not removes, at least,
+	Affection's edge in me, were she as rough
+	As are the swelling Adriatic seas:
+	I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;
+	If wealthily, then happily in Padua.
+
+GRUMIO	Nay, look you, sir, he tells you flatly what his
+	mind is: Why give him gold enough and marry him to
+	a puppet or an aglet-baby; or an old trot with ne'er
+	a tooth in her head, though she have as many diseases
+	as two and fifty horses: why, nothing comes amiss,
+	so money comes withal.
+
+HORTENSIO	Petruchio, since we are stepp'd thus far in,
+	I will continue that I broach'd in jest.
+	I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife
+	With wealth enough and young and beauteous,
+	Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman:
+	Her only fault, and that is faults enough,
+	Is that she is intolerable curst
+	And shrewd and froward, so beyond all measure
+	That, were my state far worser than it is,
+	I would not wed her for a mine of gold.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Hortensio, peace! thou know'st not gold's effect:
+	Tell me her father's name and 'tis enough;
+	For I will board her, though she chide as loud
+	As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.
+
+HORTENSIO	Her father is Baptista Minola,
+	An affable and courteous gentleman:
+	Her name is Katharina Minola,
+	Renown'd in Padua for her scolding tongue.
+
+PETRUCHIO	I know her father, though I know not her;
+	And he knew my deceased father well.
+	I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her;
+	And therefore let me be thus bold with you
+	To give you over at this first encounter,
+	Unless you will accompany me thither.
+
+GRUMIO	I pray you, sir, let him go while the humour lasts.
+	O' my word, an she knew him as well as I do, she
+	would think scolding would do little good upon him:
+	she may perhaps call him half a score knaves or so:
+	why, that's nothing; an he begin once, he'll rail in
+	his rope-tricks. I'll tell you what sir, an she
+	stand him but a little, he will throw a figure in
+	her face and so disfigure her with it that she
+	shall have no more eyes to see withal than a cat.
+	You know him not, sir.
+
+HORTENSIO	Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee,
+	For in Baptista's keep my treasure is:
+	He hath the jewel of my life in hold,
+	His youngest daughter, beautiful Binaca,
+	And her withholds from me and other more,
+	Suitors to her and rivals in my love,
+	Supposing it a thing impossible,
+	For those defects I have before rehearsed,
+	That ever Katharina will be woo'd;
+	Therefore this order hath Baptista ta'en,
+	That none shall have access unto Bianca
+	Till Katharina the curst have got a husband.
+
+GRUMIO	Katharina the curst!
+	A title for a maid of all titles the worst.
+
+HORTENSIO	Now shall my friend Petruchio do me grace,
+	And offer me disguised in sober robes
+	To old Baptista as a schoolmaster
+	Well seen in music, to instruct Bianca;
+	That so I may, by this device, at least
+	Have leave and leisure to make love to her
+	And unsuspected court her by herself.
+
+GRUMIO	Here's no knavery! See, to beguile the old folks,
+	how the young folks lay their heads together!
+
+	[Enter GREMIO, and LUCENTIO disguised]
+
+	Master, master, look about you: who goes there, ha?
+
+HORTENSIO	Peace, Grumio! it is the rival of my love.
+	Petruchio, stand by a while.
+
+GRUMIO	A proper stripling and an amorous!
+
+GREMIO	O, very well; I have perused the note.
+	Hark you, sir: I'll have them very fairly bound:
+	All books of love, see that at any hand;
+	And see you read no other lectures to her:
+	You understand me: over and beside
+	Signior Baptista's liberality,
+	I'll mend it with a largess. Take your paper too,
+	And let me have them very well perfumed
+	For she is sweeter than perfume itself
+	To whom they go to. What will you read to her?
+
+LUCENTIO	Whate'er I read to her, I'll plead for you
+	As for my patron, stand you so assured,
+	As firmly as yourself were still in place:
+	Yea, and perhaps with more successful words
+	Than you, unless you were a scholar, sir.
+
+GREMIO	O this learning, what a thing it is!
+
+GRUMIO	O this woodcock, what an ass it is!
+
+PETRUCHIO	Peace, sirrah!
+
+HORTENSIO	Grumio, mum! God save you, Signior Gremio.
+
+GREMIO	And you are well met, Signior Hortensio.
+	Trow you whither I am going? To Baptista Minola.
+	I promised to inquire carefully
+	About a schoolmaster for the fair Bianca:
+	And by good fortune I have lighted well
+	On this young man, for learning and behavior
+	Fit for her turn, well read in poetry
+	And other books, good ones, I warrant ye.
+
+HORTENSIO	'Tis well; and I have met a gentleman
+	Hath promised me to help me to another,
+	A fine musician to instruct our mistress;
+	So shall I no whit be behind in duty
+	To fair Bianca, so beloved of me.
+
+GREMIO	Beloved of me; and that my deeds shall prove.
+
+GRUMIO	And that his bags shall prove.
+
+HORTENSIO	Gremio, 'tis now no time to vent our love:
+	Listen to me, and if you speak me fair,
+	I'll tell you news indifferent good for either.
+	Here is a gentleman whom by chance I met,
+	Upon agreement from us to his liking,
+	Will undertake to woo curst Katharina,
+	Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please.
+
+GREMIO	So said, so done, is well.
+	Hortensio, have you told him all her faults?
+
+PETRUCHIO	I know she is an irksome brawling scold:
+	If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.
+
+GREMIO	No, say'st me so, friend? What countryman?
+
+PETRUCHIO	Born in Verona, old Antonio's son:
+	My father dead, my fortune lives for me;
+	And I do hope good days and long to see.
+
+GREMIO	O sir, such a life, with such a wife, were strange!
+	But if you have a stomach, to't i' God's name:
+	You shall have me assisting you in all.
+	But will you woo this wild-cat?
+
+PETRUCHIO	Will I live?
+
+GRUMIO	Will he woo her? ay, or I'll hang her.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Why came I hither but to that intent?
+	Think you a little din can daunt mine ears?
+	Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
+	Have I not heard the sea puff'd up with winds
+	Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?
+	Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
+	And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?
+	Have I not in a pitched battle heard
+	Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang?
+	And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,
+	That gives not half so great a blow to hear
+	As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?
+	Tush, tush! fear boys with bugs.
+
+GRUMIO	For he fears none.
+
+GREMIO	Hortensio, hark:
+	This gentleman is happily arrived,
+	My mind presumes, for his own good and ours.
+
+HORTENSIO	I promised we would be contributors
+	And bear his charging of wooing, whatsoe'er.
+
+GREMIO	And so we will, provided that he win her.
+
+GRUMIO	I would I were as sure of a good dinner.
+
+	[Enter TRANIO brave, and BIONDELLO]
+
+TRANIO	Gentlemen, God save you. If I may be bold,
+	Tell me, I beseech you, which is the readiest way
+	To the house of Signior Baptista Minola?
+
+BIONDELLO	He that has the two fair daughters: is't he you mean?
+
+TRANIO	Even he, Biondello.
+
+GREMIO	Hark you, sir; you mean not her to--
+
+TRANIO	Perhaps, him and her, sir: what have you to do?
+
+PETRUCHIO	Not her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray.
+
+TRANIO	I love no chiders, sir. Biondello, let's away.
+
+LUCENTIO	Well begun, Tranio.
+
+HORTENSIO	Sir, a word ere you go;
+	Are you a suitor to the maid you talk of, yea or no?
+
+TRANIO	And if I be, sir, is it any offence?
+
+GREMIO	No; if without more words you will get you hence.
+
+TRANIO	Why, sir, I pray, are not the streets as free
+	For me as for you?
+
+GREMIO	                  But so is not she.
+
+TRANIO	For what reason, I beseech you?
+
+GREMIO	For this reason, if you'll know,
+	That she's the choice love of Signior Gremio.
+
+HORTENSIO	That she's the chosen of Signior Hortensio.
+
+TRANIO	Softly, my masters! if you be gentlemen,
+	Do me this right; hear me with patience.
+	Baptista is a noble gentleman,
+	To whom my father is not all unknown;
+	And were his daughter fairer than she is,
+	She may more suitors have and me for one.
+	Fair Leda's daughter had a thousand wooers;
+	Then well one more may fair Bianca have:
+	And so she shall; Lucentio shall make one,
+	Though Paris came in hope to speed alone.
+
+GREMIO	What! this gentleman will out-talk us all.
+
+LUCENTIO	Sir, give him head: I know he'll prove a jade.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Hortensio, to what end are all these words?
+
+HORTENSIO	Sir, let me be so bold as ask you,
+	Did you yet ever see Baptista's daughter?
+
+TRANIO	No, sir; but hear I do that he hath two,
+	The one as famous for a scolding tongue
+	As is the other for beauteous modesty.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Sir, sir, the first's for me; let her go by.
+
+GREMIO	Yea, leave that labour to great Hercules;
+	And let it be more than Alcides' twelve.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Sir, understand you this of me in sooth:
+	The youngest daughter whom you hearken for
+	Her father keeps from all access of suitors,
+	And will not promise her to any man
+	Until the elder sister first be wed:
+	The younger then is free and not before.
+
+TRANIO	If it be so, sir, that you are the man
+	Must stead us all and me amongst the rest,
+	And if you break the ice and do this feat,
+	Achieve the elder, set the younger free
+	For our access, whose hap shall be to have her
+	Will not so graceless be to be ingrate.
+
+HORTENSIO	Sir, you say well and well you do conceive;
+	And since you do profess to be a suitor,
+	You must, as we do, gratify this gentleman,
+	To whom we all rest generally beholding.
+
+TRANIO	Sir, I shall not be slack: in sign whereof,
+	Please ye we may contrive this afternoon,
+	And quaff carouses to our mistress' health,
+	And do as adversaries do in law,
+	Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.
+
+
+GRUMIO	|
+	|  O excellent motion! Fellows, let's be gone.
+BIONDELLO	|
+
+
+HORTENSIO	The motion's good indeed and be it so,
+	Petruchio, I shall be your ben venuto.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Padua. A room in BAPTISTA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter KATHARINA and BIANCA]
+
+BIANCA	Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself,
+	To make a bondmaid and a slave of me;
+	That I disdain: but for these other gawds,
+	Unbind my hands, I'll pull them off myself,
+	Yea, all my raiment, to my petticoat;
+	Or what you will command me will I do,
+	So well I know my duty to my elders.
+
+KATHARINA	Of all thy suitors, here I charge thee, tell
+	Whom thou lovest best: see thou dissemble not.
+
+BIANCA	Believe me, sister, of all the men alive
+	I never yet beheld that special face
+	Which I could fancy more than any other.
+
+KATHARINA	Minion, thou liest. Is't not Hortensio?
+
+BIANCA	If you affect him, sister, here I swear
+	I'll plead for you myself, but you shall have
+	him.
+
+KATHARINA	O then, belike, you fancy riches more:
+	You will have Gremio to keep you fair.
+
+BIANCA	Is it for him you do envy me so?
+	Nay then you jest, and now I well perceive
+	You have but jested with me all this while:
+	I prithee, sister Kate, untie my hands.
+
+KATHARINA	If that be jest, then all the rest was so.
+
+	[Strikes her]
+
+	[Enter BAPTISTA]
+
+BAPTISTA	Why, how now, dame! whence grows this insolence?
+	Bianca, stand aside. Poor girl! she weeps.
+	Go ply thy needle; meddle not with her.
+	For shame, thou helding of a devilish spirit,
+	Why dost thou wrong her that did ne'er wrong thee?
+	When did she cross thee with a bitter word?
+
+KATHARINA	Her silence flouts me, and I'll be revenged.
+
+	[Flies after BIANCA]
+
+BAPTISTA	What, in my sight? Bianca, get thee in.
+
+	[Exit BIANCA]
+
+KATHARINA	What, will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see
+	She is your treasure, she must have a husband;
+	I must dance bare-foot on her wedding day
+	And for your love to her lead apes in hell.
+	Talk not to me: I will go sit and weep
+	Till I can find occasion of revenge.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BAPTISTA	Was ever gentleman thus grieved as I?
+	But who comes here?
+
+	[Enter GREMIO, LUCENTIO in the habit of a mean man;
+	PETRUCHIO, with HORTENSIO as a musician; and TRANIO,
+	with BIONDELLO bearing a lute and books]
+
+GREMIO	Good morrow, neighbour Baptista.
+
+BAPTISTA	Good morrow, neighbour Gremio.
+	God save you, gentlemen!
+
+PETRUCHIO	And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter
+	Call'd Katharina, fair and virtuous?
+
+BAPTISTA	I have a daughter, sir, called Katharina.
+
+GREMIO	You are too blunt: go to it orderly.
+
+PETRUCHIO	You wrong me, Signior Gremio: give me leave.
+	I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
+	That, hearing of her beauty and her wit,
+	Her affability and bashful modesty,
+	Her wondrous qualities and mild behavior,
+	Am bold to show myself a forward guest
+	Within your house, to make mine eye the witness
+	Of that report which I so oft have heard.
+	And, for an entrance to my entertainment,
+	I do present you with a man of mine,
+
+	[Presenting HORTENSIO]
+
+	Cunning in music and the mathematics,
+	To instruct her fully in those sciences,
+	Whereof I know she is not ignorant:
+	Accept of him, or else you do me wrong:
+	His name is Licio, born in Mantua.
+
+BAPTISTA	You're welcome, sir; and he, for your good sake.
+	But for my daughter Katharina, this I know,
+	She is not for your turn, the more my grief.
+
+PETRUCHIO	I see you do not mean to part with her,
+	Or else you like not of my company.
+
+BAPTISTA	Mistake me not; I speak but as I find.
+	Whence are you, sir? what may I call your name?
+
+PETRUCHIO	Petruchio is my name; Antonio's son,
+	A man well known throughout all Italy.
+
+BAPTISTA	I know him well: you are welcome for his sake.
+
+GREMIO	Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray,
+	Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too:
+	Baccare! you are marvellous forward.
+
+PETRUCHIO	O, pardon me, Signior Gremio; I would fain be doing.
+
+GREMIO	I doubt it not, sir; but you will curse your
+	wooing. Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am
+	sure of it. To express the like kindness, myself,
+	that have been more kindly beholding to you than
+	any, freely give unto you this young scholar,
+
+	[Presenting LUCENTIO]
+
+	that hath been long studying at Rheims; as cunning
+	in Greek, Latin, and other languages, as the other
+	in music and mathematics: his name is Cambio; pray,
+	accept his service.
+
+BAPTISTA	A thousand thanks, Signior Gremio.
+	Welcome, good Cambio.
+
+	[To TRANIO]
+
+	But, gentle sir, methinks you walk like a stranger:
+	may I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?
+
+TRANIO	Pardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own,
+	That, being a stranger in this city here,
+	Do make myself a suitor to your daughter,
+	Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous.
+	Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me,
+	In the preferment of the eldest sister.
+	This liberty is all that I request,
+	That, upon knowledge of my parentage,
+	I may have welcome 'mongst the rest that woo
+	And free access and favour as the rest:
+	And, toward the education of your daughters,
+	I here bestow a simple instrument,
+	And this small packet of Greek and Latin books:
+	If you accept them, then their worth is great.
+
+BAPTISTA	Lucentio is your name; of whence, I pray?
+
+TRANIO	Of Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio.
+
+BAPTISTA	A mighty man of Pisa; by report
+	I know him well: you are very welcome, sir,
+	Take you the lute, and you the set of books;
+	You shall go see your pupils presently.
+	Holla, within!
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+	Sirrah, lead these gentlemen
+	To my daughters; and tell them both,
+	These are their tutors: bid them use them well.
+
+	[Exit Servant, with LUCENTIO and HORTENSIO,
+	BIONDELLO following]
+
+	We will go walk a little in the orchard,
+	And then to dinner. You are passing welcome,
+	And so I pray you all to think yourselves.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste,
+	And every day I cannot come to woo.
+	You knew my father well, and in him me,
+	Left solely heir to all his lands and goods,
+	Which I have better'd rather than decreased:
+	Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love,
+	What dowry shall I have with her to wife?
+
+BAPTISTA	After my death the one half of my lands,
+	And in possession twenty thousand crowns.
+
+PETRUCHIO	And, for that dowry, I'll assure her of
+	Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
+	In all my lands and leases whatsoever:
+	Let specialties be therefore drawn between us,
+	That covenants may be kept on either hand.
+
+BAPTISTA	Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd,
+	That is, her love; for that is all in all.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Why, that is nothing: for I tell you, father,
+	I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;
+	And where two raging fires meet together
+	They do consume the thing that feeds their fury:
+	Though little fire grows great with little wind,
+	Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all:
+	So I to her and so she yields to me;
+	For I am rough and woo not like a babe.
+
+BAPTISTA	Well mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed!
+	But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Ay, to the proof; as mountains are for winds,
+	That shake not, though they blow perpetually.
+
+	[Re-enter HORTENSIO, with his head broke]
+
+BAPTISTA	How now, my friend! why dost thou look so pale?
+
+HORTENSIO	For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
+
+BAPTISTA	What, will my daughter prove a good musician?
+
+HORTENSIO	I think she'll sooner prove a soldier
+	Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.
+
+BAPTISTA	Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?
+
+HORTENSIO	Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me.
+	I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
+	And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering;
+	When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,
+	'Frets, call you these?' quoth she; 'I'll fume
+	with them:'
+	And, with that word, she struck me on the head,
+	And through the instrument my pate made way;
+	And there I stood amazed for a while,
+	As on a pillory, looking through the lute;
+	While she did call me rascal fiddler
+	And twangling Jack; with twenty such vile terms,
+	As had she studied to misuse me so.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench;
+	I love her ten times more than e'er I did:
+	O, how I long to have some chat with her!
+
+BAPTISTA	Well, go with me and be not so discomfited:
+	Proceed in practise with my younger daughter;
+	She's apt to learn and thankful for good turns.
+	Signior Petruchio, will you go with us,
+	Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you?
+
+PETRUCHIO	I pray you do.
+
+	[Exeunt all but PETRUCHIO]
+
+	I will attend her here,
+	And woo her with some spirit when she comes.
+	Say that she rail; why then I'll tell her plain
+	She sings as sweetly as a nightingale:
+	Say that she frown, I'll say she looks as clear
+	As morning roses newly wash'd with dew:
+	Say she be mute and will not speak a word;
+	Then I'll commend her volubility,
+	And say she uttereth piercing eloquence:
+	If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
+	As though she bid me stay by her a week:
+	If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
+	When I shall ask the banns and when be married.
+	But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak.
+
+	[Enter KATHARINA]
+
+	Good morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear.
+
+KATHARINA	Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing:
+	They call me Katharina that do talk of me.
+
+PETRUCHIO	You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Kate,
+	And bonny Kate and sometimes Kate the curst;
+	But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom
+	Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate,
+	For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate,
+	Take this of me, Kate of my consolation;
+	Hearing thy mildness praised in every town,
+	Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
+	Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,
+	Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife.
+
+KATHARINA	Moved! in good time: let him that moved you hither
+	Remove you hence: I knew you at the first
+	You were a moveable.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Why, what's a moveable?
+
+KATHARINA	A join'd-stool.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me.
+
+KATHARINA	Asses are made to bear, and so are you.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Women are made to bear, and so are you.
+
+KATHARINA	No such jade as you, if me you mean.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Alas! good Kate, I will not burden thee;
+	For, knowing thee to be but young and light--
+
+KATHARINA	Too light for such a swain as you to catch;
+	And yet as heavy as my weight should be.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Should be! should--buzz!
+
+KATHARINA	Well ta'en, and like a buzzard.
+
+PETRUCHIO	O slow-wing'd turtle! shall a buzzard take thee?
+
+KATHARINA	Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry.
+
+KATHARINA	If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
+
+PETRUCHIO	My remedy is then, to pluck it out.
+
+KATHARINA	Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies,
+
+PETRUCHIO	Who knows not where a wasp does
+	wear his sting? In his tail.
+
+KATHARINA	In his tongue.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Whose tongue?
+
+KATHARINA	Yours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell.
+
+PETRUCHIO	What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again,
+	Good Kate; I am a gentleman.
+
+KATHARINA	That I'll try.
+
+	[She strikes him]
+
+PETRUCHIO	I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.
+
+KATHARINA	So may you lose your arms:
+	If you strike me, you are no gentleman;
+	And if no gentleman, why then no arms.
+
+PETRUCHIO	A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books!
+
+KATHARINA	What is your crest? a coxcomb?
+
+PETRUCHIO	A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.
+
+KATHARINA	No cock of mine; you crow too like a craven.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour.
+
+KATHARINA	It is my fashion, when I see a crab.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not sour.
+
+KATHARINA	There is, there is.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Then show it me.
+
+KATHARINA	Had I a glass, I would.
+
+PETRUCHIO	What, you mean my face?
+
+KATHARINA	Well aim'd of such a young one.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you.
+
+KATHARINA	Yet you are wither'd.
+
+PETRUCHIO	'Tis with cares.
+
+KATHARINA	I care not.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Nay, hear you, Kate: in sooth you scape not so.
+
+KATHARINA	I chafe you, if I tarry: let me go.
+
+PETRUCHIO	No, not a whit: I find you passing gentle.
+	'Twas told me you were rough and coy and sullen,
+	And now I find report a very liar;
+	For thou are pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous,
+	But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time flowers:
+	Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,
+	Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,
+	Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk,
+	But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers,
+	With gentle conference, soft and affable.
+	Why does the world report that Kate doth limp?
+	O slanderous world! Kate like the hazel-twig
+	Is straight and slender and as brown in hue
+	As hazel nuts and sweeter than the kernels.
+	O, let me see thee walk: thou dost not halt.
+
+KATHARINA	Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Did ever Dian so become a grove
+	As Kate this chamber with her princely gait?
+	O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate;
+	And then let Kate be chaste and Dian sportful!
+
+KATHARINA	Where did you study all this goodly speech?
+
+PETRUCHIO	It is extempore, from my mother-wit.
+
+KATHARINA	A witty mother! witless else her son.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Am I not wise?
+
+KATHARINA	Yes; keep you warm.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharina, in thy bed:
+	And therefore, setting all this chat aside,
+	Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented
+	That you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed on;
+	And, Will you, nill you, I will marry you.
+	Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn;
+	For, by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,
+	Thy beauty, that doth make me like thee well,
+	Thou must be married to no man but me;
+	For I am he am born to tame you Kate,
+	And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
+	Conformable as other household Kates.
+	Here comes your father: never make denial;
+	I must and will have Katharina to my wife.
+
+	[Re-enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, and TRANIO]
+
+BAPTISTA	Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?
+
+PETRUCHIO	How but well, sir? how but well?
+	It were impossible I should speed amiss.
+
+BAPTISTA	Why, how now, daughter Katharina! in your dumps?
+
+KATHARINA	Call you me daughter? now, I promise you
+	You have show'd a tender fatherly regard,
+	To wish me wed to one half lunatic;
+	A mad-cup ruffian and a swearing Jack,
+	That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Father, 'tis thus: yourself and all the world,
+	That talk'd of her, have talk'd amiss of her:
+	If she be curst, it is for policy,
+	For she's not froward, but modest as the dove;
+	She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
+	For patience she will prove a second Grissel,
+	And Roman Lucrece for her chastity:
+	And to conclude, we have 'greed so well together,
+	That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.
+
+KATHARINA	I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.
+
+GREMIO	Hark, Petruchio; she says she'll see thee
+	hang'd first.
+
+TRANIO	Is this your speeding? nay, then, good night our part!
+
+PETRUCHIO	Be patient, gentlemen; I choose her for myself:
+	If she and I be pleased, what's that to you?
+	'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone,
+	That she shall still be curst in company.
+	I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe
+	How much she loves me: O, the kindest Kate!
+	She hung about my neck; and kiss on kiss
+	She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath,
+	That in a twink she won me to her love.
+	O, you are novices! 'tis a world to see,
+	How tame, when men and women are alone,
+	A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.
+	Give me thy hand, Kate: I will unto Venice,
+	To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day.
+	Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests;
+	I will be sure my Katharina shall be fine.
+
+BAPTISTA	I know not what to say: but give me your hands;
+	God send you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match.
+
+
+GREMIO	|
+	|  Amen, say we: we will be witnesses.
+TRANIO	|
+
+
+PETRUCHIO	Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu;
+	I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace:
+	We will have rings and things and fine array;
+	And kiss me, Kate, we will be married o'Sunday.
+
+	[Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHARINA severally]
+
+GREMIO	Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly?
+
+BAPTISTA	Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part,
+	And venture madly on a desperate mart.
+
+TRANIO	'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you:
+	'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.
+
+BAPTISTA	The gain I seek is, quiet in the match.
+
+GREMIO	No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch.
+	But now, Baptists, to your younger daughter:
+	Now is the day we long have looked for:
+	I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.
+
+TRANIO	And I am one that love Bianca more
+	Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess.
+
+GREMIO	Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I.
+
+TRANIO	Graybeard, thy love doth freeze.
+
+GREMIO	But thine doth fry.
+	Skipper, stand back: 'tis age that nourisheth.
+
+TRANIO	But youth in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.
+
+BAPTISTA	Content you, gentlemen: I will compound this strife:
+	'Tis deeds must win the prize; and he of both
+	That can assure my daughter greatest dower
+	Shall have my Bianca's love.
+	Say, Signior Gremio, What can you assure her?
+
+GREMIO	First, as you know, my house within the city
+	Is richly furnished with plate and gold;
+	Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands;
+	My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;
+	In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns;
+	In cypress chests my arras counterpoints,
+	Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
+	Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl,
+	Valance of Venice gold in needlework,
+	Pewter and brass and all things that belong
+	To house or housekeeping: then, at my farm
+	I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
+	Sixscore fat oxen standing in my stalls,
+	And all things answerable to this portion.
+	Myself am struck in years, I must confess;
+	And if I die to-morrow, this is hers,
+	If whilst I live she will be only mine.
+
+TRANIO	That 'only' came well in. Sir, list to me:
+	I am my father's heir and only son:
+	If I may have your daughter to my wife,
+	I'll leave her houses three or four as good,
+	Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
+	Old Signior Gremio has in Padua;
+	Besides two thousand ducats by the year
+	Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.
+	What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio?
+
+GREMIO	Two thousand ducats by the year of land!
+	My land amounts not to so much in all:
+	That she shall have; besides an argosy
+	That now is lying in Marseilles' road.
+	What, have I choked you with an argosy?
+
+TRANIO	Gremio, 'tis known my father hath no less
+	Than three great argosies; besides two galliases,
+	And twelve tight galleys: these I will assure her,
+	And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next.
+
+GREMIO	Nay, I have offer'd all, I have no more;
+	And she can have no more than all I have:
+	If you like me, she shall have me and mine.
+
+TRANIO	Why, then the maid is mine from all the world,
+	By your firm promise: Gremio is out-vied.
+
+BAPTISTA	I must confess your offer is the best;
+	And, let your father make her the assurance,
+	She is your own; else, you must pardon me,
+	if you should die before him, where's her dower?
+
+TRANIO	That's but a cavil: he is old, I young.
+
+GREMIO	And may not young men die, as well as old?
+
+BAPTISTA	Well, gentlemen,
+	I am thus resolved: on Sunday next you know
+	My daughter Katharina is to be married:
+	Now, on the Sunday following, shall Bianca
+	Be bride to you, if you this assurance;
+	If not, Signior Gremio:
+	And so, I take my leave, and thank you both.
+
+GREMIO	Adieu, good neighbour.
+
+	[Exit BAPTISTA]
+
+		Now I fear thee not:
+	Sirrah young gamester, your father were a fool
+	To give thee all, and in his waning age
+	Set foot under thy table: tut, a toy!
+	An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+TRANIO	A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide!
+	Yet I have faced it with a card of ten.
+	'Tis in my head to do my master good:
+	I see no reason but supposed Lucentio
+	Must get a father, call'd 'supposed Vincentio;'
+	And that's a wonder: fathers commonly
+	Do get their children; but in this case of wooing,
+	A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Padua. BAPTISTA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter LUCENTIO, HORTENSIO, and BIANCA]
+
+LUCENTIO	Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir:
+	Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
+	Her sister Katharina welcomed you withal?
+
+HORTENSIO	But, wrangling pedant, this is
+	The patroness of heavenly harmony:
+	Then give me leave to have prerogative;
+	And when in music we have spent an hour,
+	Your lecture shall have leisure for as much.
+
+LUCENTIO	Preposterous ass, that never read so far
+	To know the cause why music was ordain'd!
+	Was it not to refresh the mind of man
+	After his studies or his usual pain?
+	Then give me leave to read philosophy,
+	And while I pause, serve in your harmony.
+
+HORTENSIO	Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.
+
+BIANCA	Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong,
+	To strive for that which resteth in my choice:
+	I am no breeching scholar in the schools;
+	I'll not be tied to hours nor 'pointed times,
+	But learn my lessons as I please myself.
+	And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down:
+	Take you your instrument, play you the whiles;
+	His lecture will be done ere you have tuned.
+
+HORTENSIO	You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune?
+
+LUCENTIO	That will be never: tune your instrument.
+
+BIANCA	Where left we last?
+
+LUCENTIO	Here, madam:
+	'Hic ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus;
+	Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.'
+
+BIANCA	Construe them.
+
+LUCENTIO	'Hic ibat,' as I told you before, 'Simois,' I am
+	Lucentio, 'hic est,' son unto Vincentio of Pisa,
+	'Sigeia tellus,' disguised thus to get your love;
+	'Hic steterat,' and that Lucentio that comes
+	a-wooing, 'Priami,' is my man Tranio, 'regia,'
+	bearing my port, 'celsa senis,' that we might
+	beguile the old pantaloon.
+
+HORTENSIO	Madam, my instrument's in tune.
+
+BIANCA	Let's hear. O fie! the treble jars.
+
+LUCENTIO	Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.
+
+BIANCA	Now let me see if I can construe it: 'Hic ibat
+	Simois,' I know you not, 'hic est Sigeia tellus,' I
+	trust you not; 'Hic steterat Priami,' take heed
+	he hear us not, 'regia,' presume not, 'celsa senis,'
+	despair not.
+
+HORTENSIO	Madam, 'tis now in tune.
+
+LUCENTIO	All but the base.
+
+HORTENSIO	The base is right; 'tis the base knave that jars.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	How fiery and forward our pedant is!
+	Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love:
+	Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet.
+
+BIANCA	In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.
+
+LUCENTIO	Mistrust it not: for, sure, AEacides
+	Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather.
+
+BIANCA	I must believe my master; else, I promise you,
+	I should be arguing still upon that doubt:
+	But let it rest. Now, Licio, to you:
+	Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray,
+	That I have been thus pleasant with you both.
+
+HORTENSIO	You may go walk, and give me leave a while:
+	My lessons make no music in three parts.
+
+LUCENTIO	Are you so formal, sir? well, I must wait,
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	And watch withal; for, but I be deceived,
+	Our fine musician groweth amorous.
+
+HORTENSIO	Madam, before you touch the instrument,
+	To learn the order of my fingering,
+	I must begin with rudiments of art;
+	To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,
+	More pleasant, pithy and effectual,
+	Than hath been taught by any of my trade:
+	And there it is in writing, fairly drawn.
+
+BIANCA	Why, I am past my gamut long ago.
+
+HORTENSIO	Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.
+
+BIANCA	[Reads]  ''Gamut' I am, the ground of all accord,
+	'A re,' to Plead Hortensio's passion;
+	'B mi,' Bianca, take him for thy lord,
+	'C fa ut,' that loves with all affection:
+	'D sol re,' one clef, two notes have I:
+	'E la mi,' show pity, or I die.'
+	Call you this gamut? tut, I like it not:
+	Old fashions please me best; I am not so nice,
+	To change true rules for old inventions.
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+Servant	Mistress, your father prays you leave your books
+	And help to dress your sister's chamber up:
+	You know to-morrow is the wedding-day.
+
+BIANCA	Farewell, sweet masters both; I must be gone.
+
+	[Exeunt BIANCA and Servant]
+
+LUCENTIO	Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HORTENSIO	But I have cause to pry into this pedant:
+	Methinks he looks as though he were in love:
+	Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble
+	To cast thy wandering eyes on every stale,
+	Seize thee that list: if once I find thee ranging,
+	Hortensio will be quit with thee by changing.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Padua. Before BAPTISTA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO, KATHARINA, BIANCA,
+	LUCENTIO, and others, attendants]
+
+BAPTISTA	[To TRANIO]  Signior Lucentio, this is the
+	'pointed day.
+	That Katharina and Petruchio should be married,
+	And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.
+	What will be said? what mockery will it be,
+	To want the bridegroom when the priest attends
+	To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage!
+	What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?
+
+KATHARINA	No shame but mine: I must, forsooth, be forced
+	To give my hand opposed against my heart
+	Unto a mad-brain rudesby full of spleen;
+	Who woo'd in haste and means to wed at leisure.
+	I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,
+	Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behavior:
+	And, to be noted for a merry man,
+	He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,
+	Make feasts, invite friends, and proclaim the banns;
+	Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd.
+	Now must the world point at poor Katharina,
+	And say, 'Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife,
+	If it would please him come and marry her!'
+
+TRANIO	Patience, good Katharina, and Baptista too.
+	Upon my life, Petruchio means but well,
+	Whatever fortune stays him from his word:
+	Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
+	Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest.
+
+KATHARINA	Would Katharina had never seen him though!
+
+	[Exit weeping, followed by BIANCA and others]
+
+BAPTISTA	Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep;
+	For such an injury would vex a very saint,
+	Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.
+
+	[Enter BIONDELLO]
+
+BIONDELLO	Master, master! news, old news, and such news as
+	you never heard of!
+
+BAPTISTA	Is it new and old too? how may that be?
+
+BIONDELLO	Why, is it not news, to hear of Petruchio's coming?
+
+BAPTISTA	Is he come?
+
+BIONDELLO	Why, no, sir.
+
+BAPTISTA	What then?
+
+BIONDELLO	He is coming.
+
+BAPTISTA	When will he be here?
+
+BIONDELLO	When he stands where I am and sees you there.
+
+TRANIO	But say, what to thine old news?
+
+BIONDELLO	Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an old
+	jerkin, a pair of old breeches thrice turned, a pair
+	of boots that have been candle-cases, one buckled,
+	another laced, an old rusty sword ta'en out of the
+	town-armory, with a broken hilt, and chapeless;
+	with two broken points: his horse hipped with an
+	old mothy saddle and stirrups of no kindred;
+	besides, possessed with the glanders and like to mose
+	in the chine; troubled with the lampass, infected
+	with the fashions, full of wingdalls, sped with
+	spavins, rayed with yellows, past cure of the fives,
+	stark spoiled with the staggers, begnawn with the
+	bots, swayed in the back and shoulder-shotten;
+	near-legged before and with, a half-chequed bit
+	and a head-stall of sheeps leather which, being
+	restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been
+	often burst and now repaired with knots; one girth
+	six time pieced and a woman's crupper of velure,
+	which hath two letters for her name fairly set down
+	in studs, and here and there pieced with packthread.
+
+BAPTISTA	Who comes with him?
+
+BIONDELLO	O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned
+	like the horse; with a linen stock on one leg and a
+	kersey boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red
+	and blue list; an old hat and 'the humour of forty
+	fancies' pricked in't for a feather: a monster, a
+	very monster in apparel, and not like a Christian
+	footboy or a gentleman's lackey.
+
+TRANIO	'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
+	Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-apparell'd.
+
+BAPTISTA	I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes.
+
+BIONDELLO	Why, sir, he comes not.
+
+BAPTISTA	Didst thou not say he comes?
+
+BIONDELLO	Who? that Petruchio came?
+
+BAPTISTA	Ay, that Petruchio came.
+
+BIONDELLO	No, sir, I say his horse comes, with him on his back.
+
+BAPTISTA	Why, that's all one.
+
+BIONDELLO	   Nay, by Saint Jamy,
+	I hold you a penny,
+	A horse and a man
+	Is more than one,
+	And yet not many.
+
+	[Enter PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO]
+
+PETRUCHIO	Come, where be these gallants? who's at home?
+
+BAPTISTA	You are welcome, sir.
+
+PETRUCHIO	And yet I come not well.
+
+BAPTISTA	And yet you halt not.
+
+TRANIO	Not so well apparell'd
+	As I wish you were.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Were it better, I should rush in thus.
+	But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride?
+	How does my father? Gentles, methinks you frown:
+	And wherefore gaze this goodly company,
+	As if they saw some wondrous monument,
+	Some comet or unusual prodigy?
+
+BAPTISTA	Why, sir, you know this is your wedding-day:
+	First were we sad, fearing you would not come;
+	Now sadder, that you come so unprovided.
+	Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate,
+	An eye-sore to our solemn festival!
+
+TRANIO	And tells us, what occasion of import
+	Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife,
+	And sent you hither so unlike yourself?
+
+PETRUCHIO	Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear:
+	Sufficeth I am come to keep my word,
+	Though in some part enforced to digress;
+	Which, at more leisure, I will so excuse
+	As you shall well be satisfied withal.
+	But where is Kate? I stay too long from her:
+	The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church.
+
+TRANIO	See not your bride in these unreverent robes:
+	Go to my chamber; Put on clothes of mine.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Not I, believe me: thus I'll visit her.
+
+BAPTISTA	But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Good sooth, even thus; therefore ha' done with words:
+	To me she's married, not unto my clothes:
+	Could I repair what she will wear in me,
+	As I can change these poor accoutrements,
+	'Twere well for Kate and better for myself.
+	But what a fool am I to chat with you,
+	When I should bid good morrow to my bride,
+	And seal the title with a lovely kiss!
+
+	[Exeunt PETRUCHIO and GRUMIO]
+
+TRANIO	He hath some meaning in his mad attire:
+	We will persuade him, be it possible,
+	To put on better ere he go to church.
+
+BAPTISTA	I'll after him, and see the event of this.
+
+	[Exeunt BAPTISTA, GREMIO, and attendants]
+
+TRANIO	But to her love concerneth us to add
+	Her father's liking: which to bring to pass,
+	As I before unparted to your worship,
+	I am to get a man,--whate'er he be,
+	It skills not much. we'll fit him to our turn,--
+	And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa;
+	And make assurance here in Padua
+	Of greater sums than I have promised.
+	So shall you quietly enjoy your hope,
+	And marry sweet Bianca with consent.
+
+LUCENTIO	Were it not that my fellow-school-master
+	Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly,
+	'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage;
+	Which once perform'd, let all the world say no,
+	I'll keep mine own, despite of all the world.
+
+TRANIO	That by degrees we mean to look into,
+	And watch our vantage in this business:
+	We'll over-reach the greybeard, Gremio,
+	The narrow-prying father, Minola,
+	The quaint musician, amorous Licio;
+	All for my master's sake, Lucentio.
+
+	[Re-enter GREMIO]
+
+	Signior Gremio, came you from the church?
+
+GREMIO	As willingly as e'er I came from school.
+
+TRANIO	And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?
+
+GREMIO	A bridegroom say you? 'tis a groom indeed,
+	A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.
+
+TRANIO	Curster than she? why, 'tis impossible.
+
+GREMIO	Why he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.
+
+TRANIO	Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam.
+
+GREMIO	Tut, she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him!
+	I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest
+	Should ask, if Katharina should be his wife,
+	'Ay, by gogs-wouns,' quoth he; and swore so loud,
+	That, all-amazed, the priest let fall the book;
+	And, as he stoop'd again to take it up,
+	The mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff
+	That down fell priest and book and book and priest:
+	'Now take them up,' quoth he, 'if any list.'
+
+TRANIO	What said the wench when he rose again?
+
+GREMIO	Trembled and shook; for why, he stamp'd and swore,
+	As if the vicar meant to cozen him.
+	But after many ceremonies done,
+	He calls for wine: 'A health!' quoth he, as if
+	He had been aboard, carousing to his mates
+	After a storm; quaff'd off the muscadel
+	And threw the sops all in the sexton's face;
+	Having no other reason
+	But that his beard grew thin and hungerly
+	And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking.
+	This done, he took the bride about the neck
+	And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack
+	That at the parting all the church did echo:
+	And I seeing this came thence for very shame;
+	And after me, I know, the rout is coming.
+	Such a mad marriage never was before:
+	Hark, hark! I hear the minstrels play.
+
+	[Music]
+
+	[Re-enter PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, BIANCA, BAPTISTA,
+	HORTENSIO, GRUMIO, and Train]
+
+
+PETRUCHIO	Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains:
+	I know you think to dine with me to-day,
+	And have prepared great store of wedding cheer;
+	But so it is, my haste doth call me hence,
+	And therefore here I mean to take my leave.
+
+BAPTISTA	Is't possible you will away to-night?
+
+PETRUCHIO	I must away to-day, before night come:
+	Make it no wonder; if you knew my business,
+	You would entreat me rather go than stay.
+	And, honest company, I thank you all,
+	That have beheld me give away myself
+	To this most patient, sweet and virtuous wife:
+	Dine with my father, drink a health to me;
+	For I must hence; and farewell to you all.
+
+TRANIO	Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.
+
+PETRUCHIO	It may not be.
+
+GREMIO	                  Let me entreat you.
+
+PETRUCHIO	It cannot be.
+
+KATHARINA	                  Let me entreat you.
+
+PETRUCHIO	I am content.
+
+KATHARINA	                  Are you content to stay?
+
+PETRUCHIO	I am content you shall entreat me stay;
+	But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.
+
+KATHARINA	Now, if you love me, stay.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Grumio, my horse.
+
+GRUMIO	Ay, sir, they be ready: the oats have eaten the horses.
+
+KATHARINA	Nay, then,
+	Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day;
+	No, nor to-morrow, not till I please myself.
+	The door is open, sir; there lies your way;
+	You may be jogging whiles your boots are green;
+	For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself:
+	'Tis like you'll prove a jolly surly groom,
+	That take it on you at the first so roundly.
+
+PETRUCHIO	O Kate, content thee; prithee, be not angry.
+
+KATHARINA	I will be angry: what hast thou to do?
+	Father, be quiet; he shall stay my leisure.
+
+GREMIO	Ay, marry, sir, now it begins to work.
+
+KATARINA	Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner:
+	I see a woman may be made a fool,
+	If she had not a spirit to resist.
+
+PETRUCHIO	They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.
+	Obey the bride, you that attend on her;
+	Go to the feast, revel and domineer,
+	Carouse full measure to her maidenhead,
+	Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves:
+	But for my bonny Kate, she must with me.
+	Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret;
+	I will be master of what is mine own:
+	She is my goods, my chattels; she is my house,
+	My household stuff, my field, my barn,
+	My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing;
+	And here she stands, touch her whoever dare;
+	I'll bring mine action on the proudest he
+	That stops my way in Padua. Grumio,
+	Draw forth thy weapon, we are beset with thieves;
+	Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man.
+	Fear not, sweet wench, they shall not touch
+	thee, Kate:
+	I'll buckler thee against a million.
+
+	[Exeunt PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, and GRUMIO]
+
+BAPTISTA	Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones.
+
+GREMIO	Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing.
+
+TRANIO	Of all mad matches never was the like.
+
+LUCENTIO	Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister?
+
+BIANCA	That, being mad herself, she's madly mated.
+
+GREMIO	I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated.
+
+BAPTISTA	Neighbours and friends, though bride and
+	bridegroom wants
+	For to supply the places at the table,
+	You know there wants no junkets at the feast.
+	Lucentio, you shall supply the bridegroom's place:
+	And let Bianca take her sister's room.
+
+TRANIO	Shall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it?
+
+BAPTISTA	She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	PETRUCHIO'S country house.
+
+
+	[Enter GRUMIO]
+
+GRUMIO	Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad masters, and
+	all foul ways! Was ever man so beaten? was ever
+	man so rayed? was ever man so weary? I am sent
+	before to make a fire, and they are coming after to
+	warm them. Now, were not I a little pot and soon
+	hot, my very lips might freeze to my teeth, my
+	tongue to the roof of my mouth, my heart in my
+	belly, ere I should come by a fire to thaw me: but
+	I, with blowing the fire, shall warm myself; for,
+	considering the weather, a taller man than I will
+	take cold. Holla, ho! Curtis.
+
+	[Enter CURTIS]
+
+CURTIS	Who is that calls so coldly?
+
+GRUMIO	A piece of ice: if thou doubt it, thou mayst slide
+	from my shoulder to my heel with no greater a run
+	but my head and my neck. A fire good Curtis.
+
+CURTIS	Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio?
+
+GRUMIO	O, ay, Curtis, ay: and therefore fire, fire; cast
+	on no water.
+
+CURTIS	Is she so hot a shrew as she's reported?
+
+GRUMIO	She was, good Curtis, before this frost: but, thou
+	knowest, winter tames man, woman and beast; for it
+	hath tamed my old master and my new mistress and
+	myself, fellow Curtis.
+
+CURTIS	Away, you three-inch fool! I am no beast.
+
+GRUMIO	Am I but three inches? why, thy horn is a foot; and
+	so long am I at the least. But wilt thou make a
+	fire, or shall I complain on thee to our mistress,
+	whose hand, she being now at hand, thou shalt soon
+	feel, to thy cold comfort, for being slow in thy hot office?
+
+CURTIS	I prithee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the world?
+
+GRUMIO	A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine; and
+	therefore fire: do thy duty, and have thy duty; for
+	my master and mistress are almost frozen to death.
+
+CURTIS	There's fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio, the news.
+
+GRUMIO	Why, 'Jack, boy! ho! boy!' and as much news as
+	will thaw.
+
+CURTIS	Come, you are so full of cony-catching!
+
+GRUMIO	Why, therefore fire; for I have caught extreme cold.
+	Where's the cook? is supper ready, the house
+	trimmed, rushes strewed, cobwebs swept; the
+	serving-men in their new fustian, their white
+	stockings, and every officer his wedding-garment on?
+	Be the jacks fair within, the jills fair without,
+	the carpets laid, and every thing in order?
+
+CURTIS	All ready; and therefore, I pray thee, news.
+
+GRUMIO	First, know, my horse is tired; my master and
+	mistress fallen out.
+
+CURTIS	How?
+
+GRUMIO	Out of their saddles into the dirt; and thereby
+	hangs a tale.
+
+CURTIS	Let's ha't, good Grumio.
+
+GRUMIO	Lend thine ear.
+
+CURTIS	Here.
+
+GRUMIO	There.
+
+	[Strikes him]
+
+CURTIS	This is to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.
+
+GRUMIO	And therefore 'tis called a sensible tale: and this
+	cuff was but to knock at your ear, and beseech
+	listening. Now I begin: Imprimis, we came down a
+	foul hill, my master riding behind my mistress,--
+
+CURTIS	Both of one horse?
+
+GRUMIO	What's that to thee?
+
+CURTIS	Why, a horse.
+
+GRUMIO	Tell thou the tale: but hadst thou not crossed me,
+	thou shouldst have heard how her horse fell and she
+	under her horse; thou shouldst have heard in how
+	miry a place, how she was bemoiled, how he left her
+	with the horse upon her, how he beat me because
+	her horse stumbled, how she waded through the dirt
+	to pluck him off me, how he swore, how she prayed,
+	that never prayed before, how I cried, how the
+	horses ran away, how her bridle was burst, how I
+	lost my crupper, with many things of worthy memory,
+	which now shall die in oblivion and thou return
+	unexperienced to thy grave.
+
+CURTIS	By this reckoning he is more shrew than she.
+
+GRUMIO	Ay; and that thou and the proudest of you all shall
+	find when he comes home. But what talk I of this?
+	Call forth Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip,
+	Walter, Sugarsop and the rest: let their heads be
+	sleekly combed their blue coats brushed and their
+	garters of an indifferent knit: let them curtsy
+	with their left legs and not presume to touch a hair
+	of my master's horse-tail till they kiss their
+	hands. Are they all ready?
+
+CURTIS	They are.
+
+GRUMIO	Call them forth.
+
+CURTIS	Do you hear, ho? you must meet my master to
+	countenance my mistress.
+
+GRUMIO	Why, she hath a face of her own.
+
+CURTIS	Who knows not that?
+
+GRUMIO	Thou, it seems, that calls for company to
+	countenance her.
+
+CURTIS	I call them forth to credit her.
+
+GRUMIO	Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them.
+
+	[Enter four or five Serving-men]
+
+NATHANIEL	Welcome home, Grumio!
+
+PHILIP	How now, Grumio!
+
+JOSEPH	What, Grumio!
+
+NICHOLAS	Fellow Grumio!
+
+NATHANIEL	How now, old lad?
+
+GRUMIO	Welcome, you;--how now, you;-- what, you;--fellow,
+	you;--and thus much for greeting. Now, my spruce
+	companions, is all ready, and all things neat?
+
+NATHANIEL	All things is ready. How near is our master?
+
+GRUMIO	E'en at hand, alighted by this; and therefore be
+	not--Cock's passion, silence! I hear my master.
+
+	[Enter PETRUCHIO and KATHARINA]
+
+PETRUCHIO	Where be these knaves? What, no man at door
+	To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse!
+	Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?
+
+ALL SERVING-MEN	Here, here, sir; here, sir.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!
+	You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!
+	What, no attendance? no regard? no duty?
+	Where is the foolish knave I sent before?
+
+GRUMIO	Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.
+
+PETRUCHIO	You peasant swain! you whoreson malt-horse drudge!
+	Did I not bid thee meet me in the park,
+	And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?
+
+GRUMIO	Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not fully made,
+	And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i' the heel;
+	There was no link to colour Peter's hat,
+	And Walter's dagger was not come from sheathing:
+	There were none fine but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory;
+	The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly;
+	Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.
+
+	[Exeunt Servants]
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	Where is the life that late I led--
+	Where are those--Sit down, Kate, and welcome.--
+	Sound, sound, sound, sound!
+
+	[Re-enter Servants with supper]
+
+	Why, when, I say? Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.
+	Off with my boots, you rogues! you villains, when?
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	It was the friar of orders grey,
+	As he forth walked on his way:--
+	Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry:
+	Take that, and mend the plucking off the other.
+
+	[Strikes him]
+
+	Be merry, Kate. Some water, here; what, ho!
+	Where's my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence,
+	And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither:
+	One, Kate, that you must kiss, and be acquainted with.
+	Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?
+
+	[Enter one with water]
+
+	Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.
+	You whoreson villain! will you let it fall?
+
+	[Strikes him]
+
+KATHARINA	Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling.
+
+PETRUCHIO	A whoreson beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave!
+	Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a stomach.
+	Will you give thanks, sweet Kate; or else shall I?
+	What's this? mutton?
+
+First Servant	Ay.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Who brought it?
+
+PETER	I.
+
+PETRUCHIO	'Tis burnt; and so is all the meat.
+	What dogs are these! Where is the rascal cook?
+	How durst you, villains, bring it from the dresser,
+	And serve it thus to me that love it not?
+	Theretake it to you, trenchers, cups, and all;
+
+	[Throws the meat, &c. about the stage]
+
+	You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves!
+	What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.
+
+KATHARINA	I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet:
+	The meat was well, if you were so contented.
+
+PETRUCHIO	I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away;
+	And I expressly am forbid to touch it,
+	For it engenders choler, planteth anger;
+	And better 'twere that both of us did fast,
+	Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric,
+	Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh.
+	Be patient; to-morrow 't shall be mended,
+	And, for this night, we'll fast for company:
+	Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Re-enter Servants severally]
+
+NATHANIEL	Peter, didst ever see the like?
+
+PETER	He kills her in her own humour.
+
+	[Re-enter CURTIS]
+
+GRUMIO	Where is he?
+
+CURTIS	In her chamber, making a sermon of continency to her;
+	And rails, and swears, and rates, that she, poor soul,
+	Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak,
+	And sits as one new-risen from a dream.
+	Away, away! for he is coming hither.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Re-enter PETRUCHIO]
+
+PETRUCHIO	Thus have I politicly begun my reign,
+	And 'tis my hope to end successfully.
+	My falcon now is sharp and passing empty;
+	And till she stoop she must not be full-gorged,
+	For then she never looks upon her lure.
+	Another way I have to man my haggard,
+	To make her come and know her keeper's call,
+	That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites
+	That bate and beat and will not be obedient.
+	She eat no meat to-day, nor none shall eat;
+	Last night she slept not, nor to-night she shall not;
+	As with the meat, some undeserved fault
+	I'll find about the making of the bed;
+	And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolster,
+	This way the coverlet, another way the sheets:
+	Ay, and amid this hurly I intend
+	That all is done in reverend care of her;
+	And in conclusion she shall watch all night:
+	And if she chance to nod I'll rail and brawl
+	And with the clamour keep her still awake.
+	This is a way to kill a wife with kindness;
+	And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humour.
+	He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
+	Now let him speak: 'tis charity to show.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Padua. Before BAPTISTA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter TRANIO and HORTENSIO]
+
+TRANIO	Is't possible, friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca
+	Doth fancy any other but Lucentio?
+	I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand.
+
+HORTENSIO	Sir, to satisfy you in what I have said,
+	Stand by and mark the manner of his teaching.
+
+	[Enter BIANCA and LUCENTIO]
+
+LUCENTIO	Now, mistress, profit you in what you read?
+
+BIANCA	What, master, read you? first resolve me that.
+
+LUCENTIO	I read that I profess, the Art to Love.
+
+BIANCA	And may you prove, sir, master of your art!
+
+LUCENTIO	While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart!
+
+HORTENSIO	Quick proceeders, marry! Now, tell me, I pray,
+	You that durst swear at your mistress Bianca
+	Loved none in the world so well as Lucentio.
+
+TRANIO	O despiteful love! unconstant womankind!
+	I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.
+
+HORTENSIO	Mistake no more: I am not Licio,
+	Nor a musician, as I seem to be;
+	But one that scorn to live in this disguise,
+	For such a one as leaves a gentleman,
+	And makes a god of such a cullion:
+	Know, sir, that I am call'd Hortensio.
+
+TRANIO	Signior Hortensio, I have often heard
+	Of your entire affection to Bianca;
+	And since mine eyes are witness of her lightness,
+	I will with you, if you be so contented,
+	Forswear Bianca and her love for ever.
+
+HORTENSIO	See, how they kiss and court! Signior Lucentio,
+	Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow
+	Never to woo her no more, but do forswear her,
+	As one unworthy all the former favours
+	That I have fondly flatter'd her withal.
+
+TRANIO	And here I take the unfeigned oath,
+	Never to marry with her though she would entreat:
+	Fie on her! see, how beastly she doth court him!
+
+HORTENSIO	Would all the world but he had quite forsworn!
+	For me, that I may surely keep mine oath,
+	I will be married to a wealthy widow,
+	Ere three days pass, which hath as long loved me
+	As I have loved this proud disdainful haggard.
+	And so farewell, Signior Lucentio.
+	Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks,
+	Shall win my love: and so I take my leave,
+	In resolution as I swore before.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+TRANIO	Mistress Bianca, bless you with such grace
+	As 'longeth to a lover's blessed case!
+	Nay, I have ta'en you napping, gentle love,
+	And have forsworn you with Hortensio.
+
+BIANCA	Tranio, you jest: but have you both forsworn me?
+
+TRANIO	Mistress, we have.
+
+LUCENTIO	                  Then we are rid of Licio.
+
+TRANIO	I' faith, he'll have a lusty widow now,
+	That shall be wood and wedded in a day.
+
+BIANCA	God give him joy!
+
+TRANIO	Ay, and he'll tame her.
+
+BIANCA	He says so, Tranio.
+
+TRANIO	Faith, he is gone unto the taming-school.
+
+BIANCA	The taming-school! what, is there such a place?
+
+TRANIO	Ay, mistress, and Petruchio is the master;
+	That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long,
+	To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue.
+
+	[Enter BIONDELLO]
+
+BIONDELLO	O master, master, I have watch'd so long
+	That I am dog-weary: but at last I spied
+	An ancient angel coming down the hill,
+	Will serve the turn.
+
+TRANIO	What is he, Biondello?
+
+BIONDELLO	Master, a mercatante, or a pedant,
+	I know not what; but format in apparel,
+	In gait and countenance surely like a father.
+
+LUCENTIO	And what of him, Tranio?
+
+TRANIO	If he be credulous and trust my tale,
+	I'll make him glad to seem Vincentio,
+	And give assurance to Baptista Minola,
+	As if he were the right Vincentio
+	Take in your love, and then let me alone.
+
+	[Exeunt LUCENTIO and BIANCA]
+
+	[Enter a Pedant]
+
+Pedant	God save you, sir!
+
+TRANIO	                  And you, sir! you are welcome.
+	Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest?
+
+Pedant	Sir, at the farthest for a week or two:
+	But then up farther, and as for as Rome;
+	And so to Tripoli, if God lend me life.
+
+TRANIO	What countryman, I pray?
+
+Pedant	Of Mantua.
+
+TRANIO	Of Mantua, sir? marry, God forbid!
+	And come to Padua, careless of your life?
+
+Pedant	My life, sir! how, I pray? for that goes hard.
+
+TRANIO	'Tis death for any one in Mantua
+	To come to Padua. Know you not the cause?
+	Your ships are stay'd at Venice, and the duke,
+	For private quarrel 'twixt your duke and him,
+	Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly:
+	'Tis, marvel, but that you are but newly come,
+	You might have heard it else proclaim'd about.
+
+Pedant	Alas! sir, it is worse for me than so;
+	For I have bills for money by exchange
+	From Florence and must here deliver them.
+
+TRANIO	Well, sir, to do you courtesy,
+	This will I do, and this I will advise you:
+	First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?
+Pedant	Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been,
+	Pisa renowned for grave citizens.
+
+TRANIO	Among them know you one Vincentio?
+
+Pedant	I know him not, but I have heard of him;
+	A merchant of incomparable wealth.
+
+TRANIO	He is my father, sir; and, sooth to say,
+	In countenance somewhat doth resemble you.
+
+BIONDELLO	[Aside]  As much as an apple doth an oyster,
+	and all one.
+
+TRANIO	To save your life in this extremity,
+	This favour will I do you for his sake;
+	And think it not the worst of an your fortunes
+	That you are like to Sir Vincentio.
+	His name and credit shall you undertake,
+	And in my house you shall be friendly lodged:
+	Look that you take upon you as you should;
+	You understand me, sir: so shall you stay
+	Till you have done your business in the city:
+	If this be courtesy, sir, accept of it.
+
+Pedant	O sir, I do; and will repute you ever
+	The patron of my life and liberty.
+
+TRANIO	Then go with me to make the matter good.
+	This, by the way, I let you understand;
+	my father is here look'd for every day,
+	To pass assurance of a dower in marriage
+	'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here:
+	In all these circumstances I'll instruct you:
+	Go with me to clothe you as becomes you.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in PETRUCHIO'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter KATHARINA and GRUMIO]
+
+GRUMIO	No, no, forsooth; I dare not for my life.
+
+KATHARINA	The more my wrong, the more his spite appears:
+	What, did he marry me to famish me?
+	Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
+	Upon entreaty have a present aims;
+	If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
+	But I, who never knew how to entreat,
+	Nor never needed that I should entreat,
+	Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep,
+	With oath kept waking and with brawling fed:
+	And that which spites me more than all these wants,
+	He does it under name of perfect love;
+	As who should say, if I should sleep or eat,
+	'Twere deadly sickness or else present death.
+	I prithee go and get me some repast;
+	I care not what, so it be wholesome food.
+
+GRUMIO	What say you to a neat's foot?
+
+KATHARINA	'Tis passing good: I prithee let me have it.
+
+GRUMIO	I fear it is too choleric a meat.
+	How say you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?
+
+KATHARINA	I like it well: good Grumio, fetch it me.
+
+GRUMIO	I cannot tell; I fear 'tis choleric.
+	What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?
+
+KATHARINA	A dish that I do love to feed upon.
+
+GRUMIO	Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
+
+KATHARINA	Why then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.
+
+GRUMIO	Nay then, I will not: you shall have the mustard,
+	Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
+
+KATHARINA	Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.
+
+GRUMIO	Why then, the mustard without the beef.
+
+KATHARINA	Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave,
+
+	[Beats him]
+
+	That feed'st me with the very name of meat:
+	Sorrow on thee and all the pack of you,
+	That triumph thus upon my misery!
+	Go, get thee gone, I say.
+
+	[Enter PETRUCHIO and HORTENSIO with meat]
+
+PETRUCHIO	How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?
+
+HORTENSIO	Mistress, what cheer?
+
+KATHARINA	Faith, as cold as can be.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Pluck up thy spirits; look cheerfully upon me.
+	Here love; thou see'st how diligent I am
+	To dress thy meat myself and bring it thee:
+	I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
+	What, not a word? Nay, then thou lovest it not;
+	And all my pains is sorted to no proof.
+	Here, take away this dish.
+
+KATHARINA	I pray you, let it stand.
+
+PETRUCHIO	The poorest service is repaid with thanks;
+	And so shall mine, before you touch the meat.
+
+KATHARINA	I thank you, sir.
+
+HORTENSIO	Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame.
+	Come, mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.
+
+PETRUCHIO	[Aside]  Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me.
+	Much good do it unto thy gentle heart!
+	Kate, eat apace: and now, my honey love,
+	Will we return unto thy father's house
+	And revel it as bravely as the best,
+	With silken coats and caps and golden rings,
+	With ruffs and cuffs and fardingales and things;
+	With scarfs and fans and double change of bravery,
+	With amber bracelets, beads and all this knavery.
+	What, hast thou dined? The tailor stays thy leisure,
+	To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure.
+
+	[Enter Tailor]
+
+	Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments;
+	Lay forth the gown.
+
+	[Enter Haberdasher]
+
+	What news with you, sir?
+
+Haberdasher	Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Why, this was moulded on a porringer;
+	A velvet dish: fie, fie! 'tis lewd and filthy:
+	Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut-shell,
+	A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap:
+	Away with it! come, let me have a bigger.
+
+KATHARINA	I'll have no bigger: this doth fit the time,
+	And gentlewomen wear such caps as these
+
+PETRUCHIO	When you are gentle, you shall have one too,
+	And not till then.
+
+HORTENSIO	[Aside]  That will not be in haste.
+
+KATHARINA	Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak;
+	And speak I will; I am no child, no babe:
+	Your betters have endured me say my mind,
+	And if you cannot, best you stop your ears.
+	My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
+	Or else my heart concealing it will break,
+	And rather than it shall, I will be free
+	Even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Why, thou say'st true; it is a paltry cap,
+	A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie:
+	I love thee well, in that thou likest it not.
+
+KATHARINA	Love me or love me not, I like the cap;
+	And it I will have, or I will have none.
+
+	[Exit Haberdasher]
+
+PETRUCHIO	Thy gown? why, ay: come, tailor, let us see't.
+	O mercy, God! what masquing stuff is here?
+	What's this? a sleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon:
+	What, up and down, carved like an apple-tart?
+	Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash,
+	Like to a censer in a barber's shop:
+	Why, what, i' devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?
+
+HORTENSIO	[Aside]  I see she's like to have neither cap nor gown.
+
+Tailor	You bid me make it orderly and well,
+	According to the fashion and the time.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Marry, and did; but if you be remember'd,
+	I did not bid you mar it to the time.
+	Go, hop me over every kennel home,
+	For you shall hop without my custom, sir:
+	I'll none of it: hence! make your best of it.
+
+KATHARINA	I never saw a better-fashion'd gown,
+	More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable:
+	Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee.
+
+Tailor	She says your worship means to make
+	a puppet of her.
+
+PETRUCHIO	O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread,
+	thou thimble,
+	Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail!
+	Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou!
+	Braved in mine own house with a skein of thread?
+	Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant;
+	Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard
+	As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou livest!
+	I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd her gown.
+
+Tailor	Your worship is deceived; the gown is made
+	Just as my master had direction:
+	Grumio gave order how it should be done.
+
+GRUMIO	I gave him no order; I gave him the stuff.
+
+Tailor	But how did you desire it should be made?
+
+GRUMIO	Marry, sir, with needle and thread.
+
+Tailor	But did you not request to have it cut?
+
+GRUMIO	Thou hast faced many things.
+
+Tailor	I have.
+
+GRUMIO	Face not me: thou hast braved many men; brave not
+	me; I will neither be faced nor braved. I say unto
+	thee, I bid thy master cut out the gown; but I did
+	not bid him cut it to pieces: ergo, thou liest.
+
+Tailor	Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify
+
+PETRUCHIO	Read it.
+
+GRUMIO	The note lies in's throat, if he say I said so.
+
+Tailor	[Reads]  'Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown:'
+
+GRUMIO	Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown, sew me in
+	the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom
+	of brown thread: I said a gown.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Proceed.
+
+Tailor	[Reads]  'With a small compassed cape:'
+
+GRUMIO	I confess the cape.
+
+Tailor	[Reads]  'With a trunk sleeve:'
+
+GRUMIO	I confess two sleeves.
+
+Tailor	[Reads]  'The sleeves curiously cut.'
+
+PETRUCHIO	Ay, there's the villany.
+
+GRUMIO	Error i' the bill, sir; error i' the bill.
+	I commanded the sleeves should be cut out and
+	sewed up again; and that I'll prove upon thee,
+	though thy little finger be armed in a thimble.
+
+Tailor	This is true that I say: an I had thee
+	in place where, thou shouldst know it.
+
+GRUMIO	I am for thee straight: take thou the
+	bill, give me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.
+
+HORTENSIO	God-a-mercy, Grumio! then he shall have no odds.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.
+
+GRUMIO	You are i' the right, sir: 'tis for my mistress.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Go, take it up unto thy master's use.
+
+GRUMIO	Villain, not for thy life: take up my mistress'
+	gown for thy master's use!
+
+PETRUCHIO	Why, sir, what's your conceit in that?
+
+GRUMIO	O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for:
+	Take up my mistress' gown to his master's use!
+	O, fie, fie, fie!
+
+PETRUCHIO	[Aside]  Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid.
+	Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.
+
+HORTENSIO	Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown tomorrow:
+	Take no unkindness of his hasty words:
+	Away! I say; commend me to thy master.
+
+	[Exit Tailor]
+
+PETRUCHIO	Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father's
+	Even in these honest mean habiliments:
+	Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor;
+	For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich;
+	And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
+	So honour peereth in the meanest habit.
+	What is the jay more precious than the lark,
+	Because his fathers are more beautiful?
+	Or is the adder better than the eel,
+	Because his painted skin contents the eye?
+	O, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse
+	For this poor furniture and mean array.
+	if thou account'st it shame. lay it on me;
+	And therefore frolic: we will hence forthwith,
+	To feast and sport us at thy father's house.
+	Go, call my men, and let us straight to him;
+	And bring our horses unto Long-lane end;
+	There will we mount, and thither walk on foot
+	Let's see; I think 'tis now some seven o'clock,
+	And well we may come there by dinner-time.
+
+KATHARINA	I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two;
+	And 'twill be supper-time ere you come there.
+
+PETRUCHIO	It shall be seven ere I go to horse:
+	Look, what I speak, or do, or think to do,
+	You are still crossing it. Sirs, let't alone:
+	I will not go to-day; and ere I do,
+	It shall be what o'clock I say it is.
+
+HORTENSIO	[Aside]  Why, so this gallant will command the sun.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Padua. Before BAPTISTA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter TRANIO, and the Pedant dressed like VINCENTIO]
+
+TRANIO	Sir, this is the house: please it you that I call?
+
+Pedant	Ay, what else? and but I be deceived
+	Signior Baptista may remember me,
+	Near twenty years ago, in Genoa,
+	Where we were lodgers at the Pegasus.
+
+TRANIO	'Tis well; and hold your own, in any case,
+	With such austerity as 'longeth to a father.
+
+Pedant	I warrant you.
+
+	[Enter BIONDELLO]
+
+	But, sir, here comes your boy;
+	'Twere good he were school'd.
+
+TRANIO	Fear you not him. Sirrah Biondello,
+	Now do your duty throughly, I advise you:
+	Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio.
+
+BIONDELLO	Tut, fear not me.
+
+TRANIO	But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?
+
+BIONDELLO	I told him that your father was at Venice,
+	And that you look'd for him this day in Padua.
+
+TRANIO	Thou'rt a tall fellow: hold thee that to drink.
+	Here comes Baptista: set your countenance, sir.
+
+	[Enter BAPTISTA and LUCENTIO]
+
+	Signior Baptista, you are happily met.
+
+	[To the Pedant]
+
+	Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of:
+	I pray you stand good father to me now,
+	Give me Bianca for my patrimony.
+
+Pedant	Soft son!
+	Sir, by your leave: having come to Padua
+	To gather in some debts, my son Lucentio
+	Made me acquainted with a weighty cause
+	Of love between your daughter and himself:
+	And, for the good report I hear of you
+	And for the love he beareth to your daughter
+	And she to him, to stay him not too long,
+	I am content, in a good father's care,
+	To have him match'd; and if you please to like
+	No worse than I, upon some agreement
+	Me shall you find ready and willing
+	With one consent to have her so bestow'd;
+	For curious I cannot be with you,
+	Signior Baptista, of whom I hear so well.
+
+BAPTISTA	Sir, pardon me in what I have to say:
+	Your plainness and your shortness please me well.
+	Right true it is, your son Lucentio here
+	Doth love my daughter and she loveth him,
+	Or both dissemble deeply their affections:
+	And therefore, if you say no more than this,
+	That like a father you will deal with him
+	And pass my daughter a sufficient dower,
+	The match is made, and all is done:
+	Your son shall have my daughter with consent.
+
+TRANIO	I thank you, sir. Where then do you know best
+	We be affied and such assurance ta'en
+	As shall with either part's agreement stand?
+
+BAPTISTA	Not in my house, Lucentio; for, you know,
+	Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants:
+	Besides, old Gremio is hearkening still;
+	And happily we might be interrupted.
+
+TRANIO	Then at my lodging, an it like you:
+	There doth my father lie; and there, this night,
+	We'll pass the business privately and well.
+	Send for your daughter by your servant here:
+	My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently.
+	The worst is this, that, at so slender warning,
+	You are like to have a thin and slender pittance.
+
+BAPTISTA	It likes me well. Biondello, hie you home,
+	And bid Bianca make her ready straight;
+	And, if you will, tell what hath happened,
+	Lucentio's father is arrived in Padua,
+	And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife.
+
+BIONDELLO	I pray the gods she may with all my heart!
+
+TRANIO	Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.
+
+	[Exit BIONDELLO]
+
+	Signior Baptista, shall I lead the way?
+	Welcome! one mess is like to be your cheer:
+	Come, sir; we will better it in Pisa.
+
+BAPTISTA	I follow you.
+
+	[Exeunt TRANIO, Pedant, and BAPTISTA]
+
+	[Re-enter BIONDELLO]
+
+BIONDELLO	Cambio!
+
+LUCENTIO	What sayest thou, Biondello?
+
+BIONDELLO	You saw my master wink and laugh upon you?
+
+LUCENTIO	Biondello, what of that?
+
+BIONDELLO	Faith, nothing; but has left me here behind, to
+	expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.
+
+LUCENTIO	I pray thee, moralize them.
+
+BIONDELLO	Then thus. Baptista is safe, talking with the
+	deceiving father of a deceitful son.
+
+LUCENTIO	And what of him?
+
+BIONDELLO	His daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.
+
+LUCENTIO	And then?
+
+BIONDELLO	The old priest of Saint Luke's church is at your
+	command at all hours.
+
+LUCENTIO	And what of all this?
+
+BIONDELLO	I cannot tell; expect they are busied about a
+	counterfeit assurance: take you assurance of her,
+	'cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum:' to the
+	church; take the priest, clerk, and some sufficient
+	honest witnesses: If this be not that you look for,
+	I have no more to say, But bid Bianca farewell for
+	ever and a day.
+
+LUCENTIO	Hearest thou, Biondello?
+
+BIONDELLO	I cannot tarry: I knew a wench married in an
+	afternoon as she went to the garden for parsley to
+	stuff a rabbit; and so may you, sir: and so, adieu,
+	sir. My master hath appointed me to go to Saint
+	Luke's, to bid the priest be ready to come against
+	you come with your appendix.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LUCENTIO	I may, and will, if she be so contented:
+	She will be pleased; then wherefore should I doubt?
+	Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her:
+	It shall go hard if Cambio go without her.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	A public road.
+
+
+	[Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, HORTENSIO, and Servants]
+
+PETRUCHIO	Come on, i' God's name; once more toward our father's.
+	Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!
+
+KATHARINA	The moon! the sun: it is not moonlight now.
+
+PETRUCHIO	I say it is the moon that shines so bright.
+
+KATHARINA	I know it is the sun that shines so bright.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Now, by my mother's son, and that's myself,
+	It shall be moon, or star, or what I list,
+	Or ere I journey to your father's house.
+	Go on, and fetch our horses back again.
+	Evermore cross'd and cross'd; nothing but cross'd!
+
+HORTENSIO	Say as he says, or we shall never go.
+
+KATHARINA	Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,
+	And be it moon, or sun, or what you please:
+	An if you please to call it a rush-candle,
+	Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.
+
+PETRUCHIO	I say it is the moon.
+
+KATHARINA	I know it is the moon.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Nay, then you lie: it is the blessed sun.
+
+KATHARINA	Then, God be bless'd, it is the blessed sun:
+	But sun it is not, when you say it is not;
+	And the moon changes even as your mind.
+	What you will have it named, even that it is;
+	And so it shall be so for Katharina.
+
+HORTENSIO	Petruchio, go thy ways; the field is won.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run,
+	And not unluckily against the bias.
+	But, soft! company is coming here.
+
+	[Enter VINCENTIO]
+
+	[To VINCENTIO]
+
+	Good morrow, gentle mistress: where away?
+	Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
+	Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
+	Such war of white and red within her cheeks!
+	What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty,
+	As those two eyes become that heavenly face?
+	Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee.
+	Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.
+
+HORTENSIO	A' will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.
+
+KATHARINA	Young budding virgin, fair and fresh and sweet,
+	Whither away, or where is thy abode?
+	Happy the parents of so fair a child;
+	Happier the man, whom favourable stars
+	Allot thee for his lovely bed-fellow!
+
+PETRUCHIO	Why, how now, Kate! I hope thou art not mad:
+	This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, wither'd,
+	And not a maiden, as thou say'st he is.
+
+KATHARINA	Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,
+	That have been so bedazzled with the sun
+	That everything I look on seemeth green:
+	Now I perceive thou art a reverend father;
+	Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Do, good old grandsire; and withal make known
+	Which way thou travellest: if along with us,
+	We shall be joyful of thy company.
+
+VINCENTIO	Fair sir, and you my merry mistress,
+	That with your strange encounter much amazed me,
+	My name is call'd Vincentio; my dwelling Pisa;
+	And bound I am to Padua; there to visit
+	A son of mine, which long I have not seen.
+
+PETRUCHIO	What is his name?
+
+VINCENTIO	                  Lucentio, gentle sir.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Happily we met; the happier for thy son.
+	And now by law, as well as reverend age,
+	I may entitle thee my loving father:
+	The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman,
+	Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not,
+	Nor be grieved: she is of good esteem,
+	Her dowery wealthy, and of worthy birth;
+	Beside, so qualified as may beseem
+	The spouse of any noble gentleman.
+	Let me embrace with old Vincentio,
+	And wander we to see thy honest son,
+	Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.
+
+VINCENTIO	But is it true? or else is it your pleasure,
+	Like pleasant travellers, to break a jest
+	Upon the company you overtake?
+
+HORTENSIO	I do assure thee, father, so it is.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Come, go along, and see the truth hereof;
+	For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.
+
+	[Exeunt all but HORTENSIO]
+
+HORTENSIO	Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart.
+	Have to my widow! and if she be froward,
+	Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Padua. Before LUCENTIO'S house.
+
+
+	[GREMIO discovered. Enter behind BIONDELLO,
+	LUCENTIO, and BIANCA]
+
+BIONDELLO	Softly and swiftly, sir; for the priest is ready.
+
+LUCENTIO	I fly, Biondello: but they may chance to need thee
+	at home; therefore leave us.
+
+BIONDELLO	Nay, faith, I'll see the church o' your back; and
+	then come back to my master's as soon as I can.
+
+	[Exeunt LUCENTIO, BIANCA, and BIONDELLO]
+
+GREMIO	I marvel Cambio comes not all this while.
+
+	[Enter PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, VINCENTIO, GRUMIO,
+	with Attendants]
+
+PETRUCHIO	Sir, here's the door, this is Lucentio's house:
+	My father's bears more toward the market-place;
+	Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir.
+
+VINCENTIO	You shall not choose but drink before you go:
+	I think I shall command your welcome here,
+	And, by all likelihood, some cheer is toward.
+
+	[Knocks]
+
+GREMIO	They're busy within; you were best knock louder.
+
+	[Pedant looks out of the window]
+
+Pedant	What's he that knocks as he would beat down the gate?
+
+VINCENTIO	Is Signior Lucentio within, sir?
+
+Pedant	He's within, sir, but not to be spoken withal.
+
+VINCENTIO	What if a man bring him a hundred pound or two, to
+	make merry withal?
+
+Pedant	Keep your hundred pounds to yourself: he shall
+	need none, so long as I live.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Nay, I told you your son was well beloved in Padua.
+	Do you hear, sir? To leave frivolous circumstances,
+	I pray you, tell Signior Lucentio that his father is
+	come from Pisa, and is here at the door to speak with him.
+
+Pedant	Thou liest: his father is come from Padua and here
+	looking out at the window.
+
+VINCENTIO	Art thou his father?
+
+Pedant	Ay, sir; so his mother says, if I may believe her.
+
+PETRUCHIO	[To VINCENTIO]  Why, how now, gentleman! why, this
+	is flat knavery, to take upon you another man's name.
+
+Pedant	Lay hands on the villain: I believe a' means to
+	cozen somebody in this city under my countenance.
+
+	[Re-enter BIONDELLO]
+
+BIONDELLO	I have seen them in the church together: God send
+	'em good shipping! But who is here? mine old
+	master Vincentio! now we are undone and brought to nothing.
+
+VINCENTIO	[Seeing BIONDELLO]
+
+	Come hither, crack-hemp.
+
+BIONDELLO	Hope I may choose, sir.
+
+VINCENTIO	Come hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot me?
+
+BIONDELLO	Forgot you! no, sir: I could not forget you, for I
+	never saw you before in all my life.
+
+VINCENTIO	What, you notorious villain, didst thou never see
+	thy master's father, Vincentio?
+
+BIONDELLO	What, my old worshipful old master? yes, marry, sir:
+	see where he looks out of the window.
+
+VINCENTIO	Is't so, indeed.
+
+	[Beats BIONDELLO]
+
+BIONDELLO	Help, help, help! here's a madman will murder me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Pedant	Help, son! help, Signior Baptista!
+
+	[Exit from above]
+
+PETRUCHIO	Prithee, Kate, let's stand aside and see the end of
+	this controversy.
+
+	[They retire]
+
+	[Re-enter Pedant below; TRANIO, BAPTISTA, and Servants]
+
+TRANIO	Sir, what are you that offer to beat my servant?
+
+VINCENTIO	What am I, sir! nay, what are you, sir? O immortal
+	gods! O fine villain! A silken doublet! a velvet
+	hose! a scarlet cloak! and a copatain hat! O, I
+	am undone! I am undone! while I play the good
+	husband at home, my son and my servant spend all at
+	the university.
+
+TRANIO	How now! what's the matter?
+
+BAPTISTA	What, is the man lunatic?
+
+TRANIO	Sir, you seem a sober ancient gentleman by your
+	habit, but your words show you a madman. Why, sir,
+	what 'cerns it you if I wear pearl and gold? I
+	thank my good father, I am able to maintain it.
+
+VINCENTIO	Thy father! O villain! he is a sailmaker in Bergamo.
+
+BAPTISTA	You mistake, sir, you mistake, sir. Pray, what do
+	you think is his name?
+
+VINCENTIO	His name! as if I knew not his name: I have brought
+	him up ever since he was three years old, and his
+	name is Tranio.
+
+Pedant	Away, away, mad ass! his name is Lucentio and he is
+	mine only son, and heir to the lands of me, Signior Vincentio.
+
+VINCENTIO	Lucentio! O, he hath murdered his master! Lay hold
+	on him, I charge you, in the duke's name. O, my
+	son, my son! Tell me, thou villain, where is my son Lucentio?
+
+TRANIO	Call forth an officer.
+
+	[Enter one with an Officer]
+
+	Carry this mad knave to the gaol. Father Baptista,
+	I charge you see that he be forthcoming.
+
+VINCENTIO	Carry me to the gaol!
+
+GREMIO	Stay, officer: he shall not go to prison.
+
+BAPTISTA	Talk not, Signior Gremio: I say he shall go to prison.
+
+GREMIO	Take heed, Signior Baptista, lest you be
+	cony-catched in this business: I dare swear this
+	is the right Vincentio.
+
+Pedant	Swear, if thou darest.
+
+GREMIO	Nay, I dare not swear it.
+
+TRANIO	Then thou wert best say that I am not Lucentio.
+
+GREMIO	Yes, I know thee to be Signior Lucentio.
+
+BAPTISTA	Away with the dotard! to the gaol with him!
+
+VINCENTIO	Thus strangers may be hailed and abused: O
+	monstrous villain!
+
+	[Re-enter BIONDELLO, with LUCENTIO and BIANCA]
+
+BIONDELLO	O! we are spoiled and--yonder he is: deny him,
+	forswear him, or else we are all undone.
+
+LUCENTIO	[Kneeling]  Pardon, sweet father.
+
+VINCENTIO	Lives my sweet son?
+
+	[Exeunt BIONDELLO, TRANIO, and Pedant, as fast
+	as may be]
+
+BIANCA	Pardon, dear father.
+
+BAPTISTA	How hast thou offended?
+	Where is Lucentio?
+
+LUCENTIO	                  Here's Lucentio,
+	Right son to the right Vincentio;
+	That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
+	While counterfeit supposes bleared thine eyne.
+
+GREMIO	Here's packing, with a witness to deceive us all!
+
+VINCENTIO	Where is that damned villain Tranio,
+	That faced and braved me in this matter so?
+
+BAPTISTA	Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?
+
+BIANCA	Cambio is changed into Lucentio.
+
+LUCENTIO	Love wrought these miracles. Bianca's love
+	Made me exchange my state with Tranio,
+	While he did bear my countenance in the town;
+	And happily I have arrived at the last
+	Unto the wished haven of my bliss.
+	What Tranio did, myself enforced him to;
+	Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake.
+
+VINCENTIO	I'll slit the villain's nose, that would have sent
+	me to the gaol.
+
+BAPTISTA	But do you hear, sir? have you married my daughter
+	without asking my good will?
+
+VINCENTIO	Fear not, Baptista; we will content you, go to: but
+	I will in, to be revenged for this villany.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BAPTISTA	And I, to sound the depth of this knavery.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LUCENTIO	Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not frown.
+
+	[Exeunt LUCENTIO and BIANCA]
+
+GREMIO	My cake is dough; but I'll in among the rest,
+	Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KATHARINA	Husband, let's follow, to see the end of this ado.
+
+PETRUCHIO	First kiss me, Kate, and we will.
+
+KATHARINA	What, in the midst of the street?
+
+PETRUCHIO	What, art thou ashamed of me?
+
+KATHARINA	No, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Why, then let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away.
+
+KATHARINA	Nay, I will give thee a kiss: now pray thee, love, stay.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate:
+	Better once than never, for never too late.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TAMING OF THE SHREW
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Padua. LUCENTIO'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter BAPTISTA, VINCENTIO, GREMIO, the Pedant,
+	LUCENTIO, BIANCA, PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, HORTENSIO,
+	and Widow, TRANIO, BIONDELLO, and GRUMIO the
+	Serving-men with Tranio bringing in a banquet]
+
+LUCENTIO	At last, though long, our jarring notes agree:
+	And time it is, when raging war is done,
+	To smile at scapes and perils overblown.
+	My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
+	While I with self-same kindness welcome thine.
+	Brother Petruchio, sister Katharina,
+	And thou, Hortensio, with thy loving widow,
+	Feast with the best, and welcome to my house:
+	My banquet is to close our stomachs up,
+	After our great good cheer. Pray you, sit down;
+	For now we sit to chat as well as eat.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!
+
+BAPTISTA	Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Padua affords nothing but what is kind.
+
+HORTENSIO	For both our sakes, I would that word were true.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.
+
+Widow	Then never trust me, if I be afeard.
+
+PETRUCHIO	You are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense:
+	I mean, Hortensio is afeard of you.
+
+Widow	He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Roundly replied.
+
+KATHARINA	                  Mistress, how mean you that?
+
+Widow	Thus I conceive by him.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Conceives by me! How likes Hortensio that?
+
+HORTENSIO	My widow says, thus she conceives her tale.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Very well mended. Kiss him for that, good widow.
+
+KATHARINA	'He that is giddy thinks the world turns round:'
+	I pray you, tell me what you meant by that.
+
+Widow	Your husband, being troubled with a shrew,
+	Measures my husband's sorrow by his woe:
+	And now you know my meaning,
+
+KATHARINA	A very mean meaning.
+
+Widow	Right, I mean you.
+
+KATHARINA	And I am mean indeed, respecting you.
+
+PETRUCHIO	To her, Kate!
+
+HORTENSIO	To her, widow!
+
+PETRUCHIO	A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.
+
+HORTENSIO	That's my office.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Spoke like an officer; ha' to thee, lad!
+
+	[Drinks to HORTENSIO]
+
+BAPTISTA	How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks?
+
+GREMIO	Believe me, sir, they butt together well.
+
+BIANCA	Head, and butt! an hasty-witted body
+	Would say your head and butt were head and horn.
+
+VINCENTIO	Ay, mistress bride, hath that awaken'd you?
+
+BIANCA	Ay, but not frighted me; therefore I'll sleep again.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Nay, that you shall not: since you have begun,
+	Have at you for a bitter jest or two!
+
+BIANCA	Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush;
+	And then pursue me as you draw your bow.
+	You are welcome all.
+
+	[Exeunt BIANCA, KATHARINA, and Widow]
+
+PETRUCHIO	She hath prevented me. Here, Signior Tranio.
+	This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not;
+	Therefore a health to all that shot and miss'd.
+
+TRANIO	O, sir, Lucentio slipp'd me like his greyhound,
+	Which runs himself and catches for his master.
+
+PETRUCHIO	A good swift simile, but something currish.
+
+TRANIO	'Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself:
+	'Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay.
+
+BAPTISTA	O ho, Petruchio! Tranio hits you now.
+
+LUCENTIO	I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.
+
+HORTENSIO	Confess, confess, hath he not hit you here?
+
+PETRUCHIO	A' has a little gall'd me, I confess;
+	And, as the jest did glance away from me,
+	'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright.
+
+BAPTISTA	Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio,
+	I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Well, I say no: and therefore for assurance
+	Let's each one send unto his wife;
+	And he whose wife is most obedient
+	To come at first when he doth send for her,
+	Shall win the wager which we will propose.
+
+HORTENSIO	Content. What is the wager?
+
+LUCENTIO	Twenty crowns.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Twenty crowns!
+	I'll venture so much of my hawk or hound,
+	But twenty times so much upon my wife.
+
+LUCENTIO	A hundred then.
+
+HORTENSIO	                  Content.
+
+PETRUCHIO	A match! 'tis done.
+
+HORTENSIO	Who shall begin?
+
+LUCENTIO	                  That will I.
+	Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.
+
+BIONDELLO	I go.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BAPTISTA	Son, I'll be your half, Bianca comes.
+
+LUCENTIO	I'll have no halves; I'll bear it all myself.
+
+	[Re-enter BIONDELLO]
+
+	How now! what news?
+
+BIONDELLO	Sir, my mistress sends you word
+	That she is busy and she cannot come.
+
+PETRUCHIO	How! she is busy and she cannot come!
+	Is that an answer?
+
+GREMIO	                  Ay, and a kind one too:
+	Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.
+
+PETRUCHIO	I hope better.
+
+HORTENSIO	Sirrah Biondello, go and entreat my wife
+	To come to me forthwith.
+
+	[Exit BIONDELLO]
+
+PETRUCHIO	O, ho! entreat her!
+	Nay, then she must needs come.
+
+HORTENSIO	I am afraid, sir,
+	Do what you can, yours will not be entreated.
+
+	[Re-enter BIONDELLO]
+
+	Now, where's my wife?
+
+BIONDELLO	She says you have some goodly jest in hand:
+	She will not come: she bids you come to her.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Worse and worse; she will not come! O vile,
+	Intolerable, not to be endured!
+	Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress;
+	Say, I command her to come to me.
+
+	[Exit GRUMIO]
+
+HORTENSIO	I know her answer.
+
+PETRUCHIO	                  What?
+
+HORTENSIO	She will not.
+
+PETRUCHIO	The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.
+
+BAPTISTA	Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharina!
+
+	[Re-enter KATARINA]
+
+KATHARINA	What is your will, sir, that you send for me?
+
+PETRUCHIO	Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife?
+
+KATHARINA	They sit conferring by the parlor fire.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Go fetch them hither: if they deny to come.
+	Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands:
+	Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.
+
+	[Exit KATHARINA]
+
+LUCENTIO	Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder.
+
+HORTENSIO	And so it is: I wonder what it bodes.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Marry, peace it bodes, and love and quiet life,
+	And awful rule and right supremacy;
+	And, to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy?
+
+BAPTISTA	Now, fair befal thee, good Petruchio!
+	The wager thou hast won; and I will add
+	Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns;
+	Another dowry to another daughter,
+	For she is changed, as she had never been.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Nay, I will win my wager better yet
+	And show more sign of her obedience,
+	Her new-built virtue and obedience.
+	See where she comes and brings your froward wives
+	As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.
+
+	[Re-enter KATHARINA, with BIANCA and Widow]
+
+	Katharina, that cap of yours becomes you not:
+	Off with that bauble, throw it under-foot.
+
+Widow	Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh,
+	Till I be brought to such a silly pass!
+
+BIANCA	Fie! what a foolish duty call you this?
+
+LUCENTIO	I would your duty were as foolish too:
+	The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
+	Hath cost me an hundred crowns since supper-time.
+
+BIANCA	The more fool you, for laying on my duty.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Katharina, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women
+	What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.
+
+Widow	Come, come, you're mocking: we will have no telling.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Come on, I say; and first begin with her.
+
+Widow	She shall not.
+
+PETRUCHIO	I say she shall: and first begin with her.
+
+KATHARINA	Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow,
+	And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,
+	To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor:
+	It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
+	Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
+	And in no sense is meet or amiable.
+	A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,
+	Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
+	And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
+	Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
+	Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
+	Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
+	And for thy maintenance commits his body
+	To painful labour both by sea and land,
+	To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
+	Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
+	And craves no other tribute at thy hands
+	But love, fair looks and true obedience;
+	Too little payment for so great a debt.
+	Such duty as the subject owes the prince
+	Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
+	And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
+	And not obedient to his honest will,
+	What is she but a foul contending rebel
+	And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
+	I am ashamed that women are so simple
+	To offer war where they should kneel for peace;
+	Or seek for rule, supremacy and sway,
+	When they are bound to serve, love and obey.
+	Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
+	Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
+	But that our soft conditions and our hearts
+	Should well agree with our external parts?
+	Come, come, you froward and unable worms!
+	My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
+	My heart as great, my reason haply more,
+	To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
+	But now I see our lances are but straws,
+	Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
+	That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
+	Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
+	And place your hands below your husband's foot:
+	In token of which duty, if he please,
+	My hand is ready; may it do him ease.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.
+
+LUCENTIO	Well, go thy ways, old lad; for thou shalt ha't.
+
+VINCENTIO	'Tis a good hearing when children are toward.
+
+LUCENTIO	But a harsh hearing when women are froward.
+
+PETRUCHIO	Come, Kate, we'll to bed.
+	We three are married, but you two are sped.
+
+	[To LUCENTIO]
+
+	'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white;
+	And, being a winner, God give you good night!
+
+	[Exeunt PETRUCHIO and KATHARINA]
+
+HORTENSIO	Now, go thy ways; thou hast tamed a curst shrew.
+
+LUCENTIO	'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tamed so.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	THE TEMPEST
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+ALONSO	King of Naples.
+
+SEBASTIAN	his brother.
+
+PROSPERO	the right Duke of Milan.
+
+ANTONIO	his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan.
+
+FERDINAND	son to the King of Naples.
+
+GONZALO	an honest old Counsellor.
+
+
+ADRIAN	|
+	|  Lords.
+FRANCISCO	|
+
+
+CALIBAN	a savage and deformed Slave.
+
+TRINCULO	a Jester.
+
+STEPHANO	a drunken Butler.
+
+	Master of a Ship. (Master:)
+
+	Boatswain. (Boatswain:)
+
+	Mariners. (Mariners:)
+
+MIRANDA	daughter to Prospero.
+
+ARIEL	an airy Spirit.
+
+
+IRIS	|
+	|
+CERES	|
+	|
+JUNO	|  presented by Spirits.
+	|
+Nymphs	|
+	|
+Reapers	|
+
+
+	Other Spirits attending on Prospero.
+
+
+SCENE	A ship at Sea: an island.
+
+
+
+
+	THE TEMPEST
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise
+	of thunder and lightning heard.
+
+
+	[Enter a Master and a Boatswain]
+
+Master	Boatswain!
+
+Boatswain	Here, master: what cheer?
+
+Master	Good, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely,
+	or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter Mariners]
+
+Boatswain	Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!
+	yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the
+	master's whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind,
+	if room enough!
+
+	[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND,
+	GONZALO, and others]
+
+ALONSO	Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?
+	Play the men.
+
+Boatswain	I pray now, keep below.
+
+ANTONIO	Where is the master, boatswain?
+
+Boatswain	Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your
+	cabins: you do assist the storm.
+
+GONZALO	Nay, good, be patient.
+
+Boatswain	When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers
+	for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.
+
+GONZALO	Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
+
+Boatswain	None that I more love than myself. You are a
+	counsellor; if you can command these elements to
+	silence, and work the peace of the present, we will
+	not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you
+	cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make
+	yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of
+	the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good hearts! Out
+	of our way, I say.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+GONZALO	I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he
+	hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is
+	perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his
+	hanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable,
+	for our own doth little advantage. If he be not
+	born to be hanged, our case is miserable.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Re-enter Boatswain]
+
+Boatswain	Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bring
+	her to try with main-course.
+
+	[A cry within]
+
+	A plague upon this howling! they are louder than
+	the weather or our office.
+
+	[Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO]
+
+	Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o'er
+	and drown? Have you a mind to sink?
+
+SEBASTIAN	A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,
+	incharitable dog!
+
+Boatswain	Work you then.
+
+ANTONIO	Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker!
+	We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
+
+GONZALO	I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were
+	no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an
+	unstanched wench.
+
+Boatswain	Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off to
+	sea again; lay her off.
+
+	[Enter Mariners wet]
+
+Mariners	All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!
+
+Boatswain	What, must our mouths be cold?
+
+GONZALO	The king and prince at prayers! let's assist them,
+	For our case is as theirs.
+
+SEBASTIAN	I'm out of patience.
+
+ANTONIO	We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:
+	This wide-chapp'd rascal--would thou mightst lie drowning
+	The washing of ten tides!
+
+GONZALO	He'll be hang'd yet,
+	Though every drop of water swear against it
+	And gape at widest to glut him.
+
+	[A confused noise within:   'Mercy on us!'--
+	'We split, we split!'--'Farewell, my wife and
+	children!'--
+	'Farewell, brother!'--'We split, we split, we split!']
+
+ANTONIO	Let's all sink with the king.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Let's take leave of him.
+
+	[Exeunt ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN]
+
+GONZALO	Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an
+	acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any
+	thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain
+	die a dry death.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TEMPEST
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The island. Before PROSPERO'S cell.
+
+
+	[Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA]
+
+MIRANDA	If by your art, my dearest father, you have
+	Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
+	The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
+	But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
+	Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered
+	With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,
+	Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
+	Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
+	Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd.
+	Had I been any god of power, I would
+	Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere
+	It should the good ship so have swallow'd and
+	The fraughting souls within her.
+
+PROSPERO	Be collected:
+	No more amazement: tell your piteous heart
+	There's no harm done.
+
+MIRANDA	O, woe the day!
+
+PROSPERO	No harm.
+	I have done nothing but in care of thee,
+	Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who
+	Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
+	Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
+	Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
+	And thy no greater father.
+
+MIRANDA	More to know
+	Did never meddle with my thoughts.
+
+PROSPERO	'Tis time
+	I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
+	And pluck my magic garment from me. So:
+
+	[Lays down his mantle]
+
+	Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
+	The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
+	The very virtue of compassion in thee,
+	I have with such provision in mine art
+	So safely ordered that there is no soul--
+	No, not so much perdition as an hair
+	Betid to any creature in the vessel
+	Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down;
+	For thou must now know farther.
+
+MIRANDA	You have often
+	Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'd
+	And left me to a bootless inquisition,
+	Concluding 'Stay: not yet.'
+
+PROSPERO	The hour's now come;
+	The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
+	Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember
+	A time before we came unto this cell?
+	I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not
+	Out three years old.
+
+MIRANDA	Certainly, sir, I can.
+
+PROSPERO	By what? by any other house or person?
+	Of any thing the image tell me that
+	Hath kept with thy remembrance.
+
+MIRANDA	'Tis far off
+	And rather like a dream than an assurance
+	That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
+	Four or five women once that tended me?
+
+PROSPERO	Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
+	That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
+	In the dark backward and abysm of time?
+	If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here,
+	How thou camest here thou mayst.
+
+MIRANDA	But that I do not.
+
+PROSPERO	Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
+	Thy father was the Duke of Milan and
+	A prince of power.
+
+MIRANDA	                  Sir, are not you my father?
+
+PROSPERO	Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
+	She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
+	Was Duke of Milan; and thou his only heir
+	And princess no worse issued.
+
+MIRANDA	O the heavens!
+	What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
+	Or blessed was't we did?
+
+PROSPERO	Both, both, my girl:
+	By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence,
+	But blessedly holp hither.
+
+MIRANDA	O, my heart bleeds
+	To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,
+	Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.
+
+PROSPERO	My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio--
+	I pray thee, mark me--that a brother should
+	Be so perfidious!--he whom next thyself
+	Of all the world I loved and to him put
+	The manage of my state; as at that time
+	Through all the signories it was the first
+	And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed
+	In dignity, and for the liberal arts
+	Without a parallel; those being all my study,
+	The government I cast upon my brother
+	And to my state grew stranger, being transported
+	And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle--
+	Dost thou attend me?
+
+MIRANDA	Sir, most heedfully.
+
+PROSPERO	Being once perfected how to grant suits,
+	How to deny them, who to advance and who
+	To trash for over-topping, new created
+	The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em,
+	Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key
+	Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state
+	To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was
+	The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
+	And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.
+
+MIRANDA	O, good sir, I do.
+
+PROSPERO	                  I pray thee, mark me.
+	I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
+	To closeness and the bettering of my mind
+	With that which, but by being so retired,
+	O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
+	Awaked an evil nature; and my trust,
+	Like a good parent, did beget of him
+	A falsehood in its contrary as great
+	As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,
+	A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
+	Not only with what my revenue yielded,
+	But what my power might else exact, like one
+	Who having into truth, by telling of it,
+	Made such a sinner of his memory,
+	To credit his own lie, he did believe
+	He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution
+	And executing the outward face of royalty,
+	With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing--
+	Dost thou hear?
+
+MIRANDA	                  Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
+
+PROSPERO	To have no screen between this part he play'd
+	And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
+	Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library
+	Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties
+	He thinks me now incapable; confederates--
+	So dry he was for sway--wi' the King of Naples
+	To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
+	Subject his coronet to his crown and bend
+	The dukedom yet unbow'd--alas, poor Milan!--
+	To most ignoble stooping.
+
+MIRANDA	O the heavens!
+
+PROSPERO	Mark his condition and the event; then tell me
+	If this might be a brother.
+
+MIRANDA	I should sin
+	To think but nobly of my grandmother:
+	Good wombs have borne bad sons.
+
+PROSPERO	Now the condition.
+	The King of Naples, being an enemy
+	To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
+	Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises
+	Of homage and I know not how much tribute,
+	Should presently extirpate me and mine
+	Out of the dukedom and confer fair Milan
+	With all the honours on my brother: whereon,
+	A treacherous army levied, one midnight
+	Fated to the purpose did Antonio open
+	The gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of darkness,
+	The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
+	Me and thy crying self.
+
+MIRANDA	Alack, for pity!
+	I, not remembering how I cried out then,
+	Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint
+	That wrings mine eyes to't.
+
+PROSPERO	Hear a little further
+	And then I'll bring thee to the present business
+	Which now's upon's; without the which this story
+	Were most impertinent.
+
+MIRANDA	Wherefore did they not
+	That hour destroy us?
+
+PROSPERO	Well demanded, wench:
+	My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,
+	So dear the love my people bore me, nor set
+	A mark so bloody on the business, but
+	With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
+	In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
+	Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
+	A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
+	Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
+	Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
+	To cry to the sea that roar'd to us, to sigh
+	To the winds whose pity, sighing back again,
+	Did us but loving wrong.
+
+MIRANDA	Alack, what trouble
+	Was I then to you!
+
+PROSPERO	                  O, a cherubim
+	Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile.
+	Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
+	When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,
+	Under my burthen groan'd; which raised in me
+	An undergoing stomach, to bear up
+	Against what should ensue.
+
+MIRANDA	How came we ashore?
+
+PROSPERO	By Providence divine.
+	Some food we had and some fresh water that
+	A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
+	Out of his charity, being then appointed
+	Master of this design, did give us, with
+	Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,
+	Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,
+	Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me
+	From mine own library with volumes that
+	I prize above my dukedom.
+
+MIRANDA	Would I might
+	But ever see that man!
+
+PROSPERO	Now I arise:
+
+	[Resumes his mantle]
+
+	Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
+	Here in this island we arrived; and here
+	Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
+	Than other princesses can that have more time
+	For vainer hours and tutors not so careful.
+
+MIRANDA	Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir,
+	For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason
+	For raising this sea-storm?
+
+PROSPERO	Know thus far forth.
+	By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
+	Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
+	Brought to this shore; and by my prescience
+	I find my zenith doth depend upon
+	A most auspicious star, whose influence
+	If now I court not but omit, my fortunes
+	Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions:
+	Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
+	And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.
+
+	[MIRANDA sleeps]
+
+	Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.
+	Approach, my Ariel, come.
+
+	[Enter ARIEL]
+
+ARIEL	All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
+	To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,
+	To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
+	On the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task
+	Ariel and all his quality.
+
+PROSPERO	Hast thou, spirit,
+	Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
+
+ARIEL	To every article.
+	I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
+	Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
+	I flamed amazement: sometime I'ld divide,
+	And burn in many places; on the topmast,
+	The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
+	Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
+	O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
+	And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks
+	Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
+	Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble,
+	Yea, his dread trident shake.
+
+PROSPERO	My brave spirit!
+	Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
+	Would not infect his reason?
+
+ARIEL	Not a soul
+	But felt a fever of the mad and play'd
+	Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
+	Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,
+	Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
+	With hair up-staring,--then like reeds, not hair,--
+	Was the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is empty
+	And all the devils are here.'
+
+PROSPERO	Why that's my spirit!
+	But was not this nigh shore?
+
+ARIEL	Close by, my master.
+
+PROSPERO	But are they, Ariel, safe?
+
+ARIEL	Not a hair perish'd;
+	On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
+	But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,
+	In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle.
+	The king's son have I landed by himself;
+	Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
+	In an odd angle of the isle and sitting,
+	His arms in this sad knot.
+
+PROSPERO	Of the king's ship
+	The mariners say how thou hast disposed
+	And all the rest o' the fleet.
+
+ARIEL	Safely in harbour
+	Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
+	Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
+	From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:
+	The mariners all under hatches stow'd;
+	Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
+	I have left asleep; and for the rest o' the fleet
+	Which I dispersed, they all have met again
+	And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
+	Bound sadly home for Naples,
+	Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd
+	And his great person perish.
+
+PROSPERO	Ariel, thy charge
+	Exactly is perform'd: but there's more work.
+	What is the time o' the day?
+
+ARIEL	Past the mid season.
+
+PROSPERO	At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now
+	Must by us both be spent most preciously.
+
+ARIEL	Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
+	Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,
+	Which is not yet perform'd me.
+
+PROSPERO	How now? moody?
+	What is't thou canst demand?
+
+ARIEL	My liberty.
+
+PROSPERO	Before the time be out? no more!
+
+ARIEL	I prithee,
+	Remember I have done thee worthy service;
+	Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served
+	Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise
+	To bate me a full year.
+
+PROSPERO	Dost thou forget
+	From what a torment I did free thee?
+
+ARIEL	No.
+
+PROSPERO	Thou dost, and think'st it much to tread the ooze
+	Of the salt deep,
+	To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
+	To do me business in the veins o' the earth
+	When it is baked with frost.
+
+ARIEL	I do not, sir.
+
+PROSPERO	Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot
+	The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
+	Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
+
+ARIEL	No, sir.
+
+PROSPERO	     Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me.
+
+ARIEL	Sir, in Argier.
+
+PROSPERO	                  O, was she so? I must
+	Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
+	Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,
+	For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible
+	To enter human hearing, from Argier,
+	Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she did
+	They would not take her life. Is not this true?
+
+ARIEL	Ay, sir.
+
+PROSPERO	This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child
+	And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,
+	As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant;
+	And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
+	To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
+	Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
+	By help of her more potent ministers
+	And in her most unmitigable rage,
+	Into a cloven pine; within which rift
+	Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain
+	A dozen years; within which space she died
+	And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans
+	As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island--
+	Save for the son that she did litter here,
+	A freckled whelp hag-born--not honour'd with
+	A human shape.
+
+ARIEL	                  Yes, Caliban her son.
+
+PROSPERO	Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban
+	Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
+	What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
+	Did make wolves howl and penetrate the breasts
+	Of ever angry bears: it was a torment
+	To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
+	Could not again undo: it was mine art,
+	When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
+	The pine and let thee out.
+
+ARIEL	I thank thee, master.
+
+PROSPERO	If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak
+	And peg thee in his knotty entrails till
+	Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
+
+ARIEL	Pardon, master;
+	I will be correspondent to command
+	And do my spiriting gently.
+
+PROSPERO	Do so, and after two days
+	I will discharge thee.
+
+ARIEL	That's my noble master!
+	What shall I do? say what; what shall I do?
+
+PROSPERO	Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea: be subject
+	To no sight but thine and mine, invisible
+	To every eyeball else. Go take this shape
+	And hither come in't: go, hence with diligence!
+
+	[Exit ARIEL]
+
+	Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake!
+
+MIRANDA	     The strangeness of your story put
+	Heaviness in me.
+
+PROSPERO	                  Shake it off. Come on;
+	We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never
+	Yields us kind answer.
+
+MIRANDA	'Tis a villain, sir,
+	I do not love to look on.
+
+PROSPERO	But, as 'tis,
+	We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
+	Fetch in our wood and serves in offices
+	That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!
+	Thou earth, thou! speak.
+
+CALIBAN	[Within]  There's wood enough within.
+
+PROSPERO	Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee:
+	Come, thou tortoise! when?
+
+	[Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph]
+
+	Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
+	Hark in thine ear.
+
+ARIEL	                  My lord it shall be done.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PROSPERO	Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
+	Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!
+
+	[Enter CALIBAN]
+
+CALIBAN	As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
+	With raven's feather from unwholesome fen
+	Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye
+	And blister you all o'er!
+
+PROSPERO	For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
+	Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
+	Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,
+	All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd
+	As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
+	Than bees that made 'em.
+
+CALIBAN	I must eat my dinner.
+	This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
+	Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,
+	Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst give me
+	Water with berries in't, and teach me how
+	To name the bigger light, and how the less,
+	That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee
+	And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
+	The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:
+	Cursed be I that did so! All the charms
+	Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
+	For I am all the subjects that you have,
+	Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me
+	In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
+	The rest o' the island.
+
+PROSPERO	Thou most lying slave,
+	Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee,
+	Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged thee
+	In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
+	The honour of my child.
+
+CALIBAN	O ho, O ho! would't had been done!
+	Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else
+	This isle with Calibans.
+
+PROSPERO	Abhorred slave,
+	Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
+	Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
+	Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
+	One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,
+	Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
+	A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
+	With words that made them known. But thy vile race,
+	Though thou didst learn, had that in't which
+	good natures
+	Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
+	Deservedly confined into this rock,
+	Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
+
+CALIBAN	You taught me language; and my profit on't
+	Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
+	For learning me your language!
+
+PROSPERO	Hag-seed, hence!
+	Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best,
+	To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice?
+	If thou neglect'st or dost unwillingly
+	What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,
+	Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar
+	That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
+
+CALIBAN	No, pray thee.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	I must obey: his art is of such power,
+	It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
+	and make a vassal of him.
+
+PROSPERO	So, slave; hence!
+
+	[Exit CALIBAN]
+
+	[Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing;
+	FERDINAND following]
+
+	ARIEL'S song.
+
+	Come unto these yellow sands,
+	And then take hands:
+	Courtsied when you have and kiss'd
+	The wild waves whist,
+	Foot it featly here and there;
+	And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
+	Hark, hark!
+
+	[Burthen [dispersedly, within]  Bow-wow]
+
+	The watch-dogs bark!
+
+	[Burthen Bow-wow]
+
+	Hark, hark! I hear
+	The strain of strutting chanticleer
+	Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.
+
+FERDINAND	Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth?
+	It sounds no more: and sure, it waits upon
+	Some god o' the island. Sitting on a bank,
+	Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
+	This music crept by me upon the waters,
+	Allaying both their fury and my passion
+	With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,
+	Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.
+	No, it begins again.
+
+	[ARIEL sings]
+
+	Full fathom five thy father lies;
+	Of his bones are coral made;
+	Those are pearls that were his eyes:
+	Nothing of him that doth fade
+	But doth suffer a sea-change
+	Into something rich and strange.
+	Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell
+
+	[Burthen Ding-dong]
+
+	Hark! now I hear them,--Ding-dong, bell.
+
+FERDINAND	The ditty does remember my drown'd father.
+	This is no mortal business, nor no sound
+	That the earth owes. I hear it now above me.
+
+PROSPERO	The fringed curtains of thine eye advance
+	And say what thou seest yond.
+
+MIRANDA	What is't? a spirit?
+	Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
+	It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.
+
+PROSPERO	No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses
+	As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest
+	Was in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'd
+	With grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him
+	A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows
+	And strays about to find 'em.
+
+MIRANDA	I might call him
+	A thing divine, for nothing natural
+	I ever saw so noble.
+
+PROSPERO	[Aside] It goes on, I see,
+	As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee
+	Within two days for this.
+
+FERDINAND	Most sure, the goddess
+	On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer
+	May know if you remain upon this island;
+	And that you will some good instruction give
+	How I may bear me here: my prime request,
+	Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!
+	If you be maid or no?
+
+MIRANDA	No wonder, sir;
+	But certainly a maid.
+
+FERDINAND	My language! heavens!
+	I am the best of them that speak this speech,
+	Were I but where 'tis spoken.
+
+PROSPERO	How? the best?
+	What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
+
+FERDINAND	A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
+	To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;
+	And that he does I weep: myself am Naples,
+	Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld
+	The king my father wreck'd.
+
+MIRANDA	Alack, for mercy!
+
+FERDINAND	Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan
+	And his brave son being twain.
+
+PROSPERO	[Aside]	The Duke of Milan
+	And his more braver daughter could control thee,
+	If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sight
+	They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,
+	I'll set thee free for this.
+
+	[To FERDINAND]
+
+		        A word, good sir;
+	I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
+
+MIRANDA	Why speaks my father so ungently? This
+	Is the third man that e'er I saw, the first
+	That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father
+	To be inclined my way!
+
+FERDINAND	O, if a virgin,
+	And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
+	The queen of Naples.
+
+PROSPERO	Soft, sir! one word more.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	They are both in either's powers; but this swift business
+	I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
+	Make the prize light.
+
+	[To FERDINAND]
+
+		One word more; I charge thee
+	That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp
+	The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself
+	Upon this island as a spy, to win it
+	From me, the lord on't.
+
+FERDINAND	No, as I am a man.
+
+MIRANDA	There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
+	If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
+	Good things will strive to dwell with't.
+
+PROSPERO	Follow me.
+	Speak not you for him; he's a traitor. Come;
+	I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:
+	Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be
+	The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husks
+	Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
+
+FERDINAND	No;
+	I will resist such entertainment till
+	Mine enemy has more power.
+
+	[Draws, and is charmed from moving]
+
+MIRANDA	O dear father,
+	Make not too rash a trial of him, for
+	He's gentle and not fearful.
+
+PROSPERO	What? I say,
+	My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;
+	Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscience
+	Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward,
+	For I can here disarm thee with this stick
+	And make thy weapon drop.
+
+MIRANDA	Beseech you, father.
+
+PROSPERO	Hence! hang not on my garments.
+
+MIRANDA	Sir, have pity;
+	I'll be his surety.
+
+PROSPERO	Silence! one word more
+	Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
+	An advocate for an imposter! hush!
+	Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,
+	Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!
+	To the most of men this is a Caliban
+	And they to him are angels.
+
+MIRANDA	My affections
+	Are then most humble; I have no ambition
+	To see a goodlier man.
+
+PROSPERO	Come on; obey:
+	Thy nerves are in their infancy again
+	And have no vigour in them.
+
+FERDINAND	So they are;
+	My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
+	My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
+	The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats,
+	To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
+	Might I but through my prison once a day
+	Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth
+	Let liberty make use of; space enough
+	Have I in such a prison.
+
+PROSPERO	[Aside]                It works.
+
+	[To FERDINAND]
+
+		                  Come on.
+	Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!
+
+	[To FERDINAND]
+
+		                  Follow me.
+
+	[To ARIEL]
+
+	Hark what thou else shalt do me.
+
+MIRANDA	Be of comfort;
+	My father's of a better nature, sir,
+	Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
+	Which now came from him.
+
+PROSPERO	Thou shalt be free
+	As mountain winds: but then exactly do
+	All points of my command.
+
+ARIEL	To the syllable.
+
+PROSPERO	Come, follow. Speak not for him.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TEMPEST
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Another part of the island.
+
+
+	[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO,
+	ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others]
+
+GONZALO	Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
+	So have we all, of joy; for our escape
+	Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
+	Is common; every day some sailor's wife,
+	The masters of some merchant and the merchant
+	Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
+	I mean our preservation, few in millions
+	Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
+	Our sorrow with our comfort.
+
+ALONSO	Prithee, peace.
+
+SEBASTIAN	He receives comfort like cold porridge.
+
+ANTONIO	The visitor will not give him o'er so.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Look he's winding up the watch of his wit;
+	by and by it will strike.
+
+GONZALO	Sir,--
+
+SEBASTIAN	One: tell.
+
+GONZALO	When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,
+	Comes to the entertainer--
+
+SEBASTIAN	A dollar.
+
+GONZALO	Dolour comes to him, indeed: you
+	have spoken truer than you purposed.
+
+SEBASTIAN	You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
+
+GONZALO	Therefore, my lord,--
+
+ANTONIO	Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
+
+ALONSO	I prithee, spare.
+
+GONZALO	Well, I have done: but yet,--
+
+SEBASTIAN	He will be talking.
+
+ANTONIO	Which, of he or Adrian, for a good
+	wager, first begins to crow?
+
+SEBASTIAN	The old cock.
+
+ANTONIO	The cockerel.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Done. The wager?
+
+ANTONIO	A laughter.
+
+SEBASTIAN	A match!
+
+ADRIAN	Though this island seem to be desert,--
+
+SEBASTIAN	Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid.
+
+ADRIAN	Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,--
+
+SEBASTIAN	Yet,--
+
+ADRIAN	Yet,--
+
+ANTONIO	He could not miss't.
+
+ADRIAN	It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate
+	temperance.
+
+ANTONIO	Temperance was a delicate wench.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.
+
+ADRIAN	The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
+
+SEBASTIAN	As if it had lungs and rotten ones.
+
+ANTONIO	Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
+
+GONZALO	Here is everything advantageous to life.
+
+ANTONIO	True; save means to live.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Of that there's none, or little.
+
+GONZALO	How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!
+
+ANTONIO	The ground indeed is tawny.
+
+SEBASTIAN	With an eye of green in't.
+
+ANTONIO	He misses not much.
+
+SEBASTIAN	No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
+
+GONZALO	But the rarity of it is,--which is indeed almost
+	beyond credit,--
+
+SEBASTIAN	As many vouched rarities are.
+
+GONZALO	That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in
+	the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and
+	glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with
+	salt water.
+
+ANTONIO	If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not
+	say he lies?
+
+SEBASTIAN	Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report
+
+GONZALO	Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we
+	put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of
+	the king's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.
+
+SEBASTIAN	'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.
+
+ADRIAN	Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to
+	their queen.
+
+GONZALO	Not since widow Dido's time.
+
+ANTONIO	Widow! a pox o' that! How came that widow in?
+	widow Dido!
+
+SEBASTIAN	What if he had said 'widower AEneas' too? Good Lord,
+	how you take it!
+
+ADRIAN	'Widow Dido' said you? you make me study of that:
+	she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
+
+GONZALO	This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
+
+ADRIAN	Carthage?
+
+GONZALO	I assure you, Carthage.
+
+SEBASTIAN	His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hath
+	raised the wall and houses too.
+
+ANTONIO	What impossible matter will he make easy next?
+
+SEBASTIAN	I think he will carry this island home in his pocket
+	and give it his son for an apple.
+
+ANTONIO	And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring
+	forth more islands.
+
+GONZALO	Ay.
+
+ANTONIO	Why, in good time.
+
+GONZALO	Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now
+	as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage
+	of your daughter, who is now queen.
+
+ANTONIO	And the rarest that e'er came there.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
+
+ANTONIO	O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido.
+
+GONZALO	Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I
+	wore it? I mean, in a sort.
+
+ANTONIO	That sort was well fished for.
+
+GONZALO	When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
+
+ALONSO	You cram these words into mine ears against
+	The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
+	Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
+	My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,
+	Who is so far from Italy removed
+	I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
+	Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
+	Hath made his meal on thee?
+
+FRANCISCO	Sir, he may live:
+	I saw him beat the surges under him,
+	And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
+	Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
+	The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
+	'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
+	Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
+	To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
+	As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
+	He came alive to land.
+
+ALONSO	No, no, he's gone.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,
+	That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
+	But rather lose her to an African;
+	Where she at least is banish'd from your eye,
+	Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.
+
+ALONSO	Prithee, peace.
+
+SEBASTIAN	You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwise
+	By all of us, and the fair soul herself
+	Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at
+	Which end o' the beam should bow. We have lost your
+	son,
+	I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have
+	More widows in them of this business' making
+	Than we bring men to comfort them:
+	The fault's your own.
+
+ALONSO	So is the dear'st o' the loss.
+
+GONZALO	My lord Sebastian,
+	The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness
+	And time to speak it in: you rub the sore,
+	When you should bring the plaster.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Very well.
+
+ANTONIO	And most chirurgeonly.
+
+GONZALO	It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
+	When you are cloudy.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Foul weather?
+
+ANTONIO	Very foul.
+
+GONZALO	Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,--
+
+ANTONIO	He'ld sow't with nettle-seed.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Or docks, or mallows.
+
+GONZALO	And were the king on't, what would I do?
+
+SEBASTIAN	'Scape being drunk for want of wine.
+
+GONZALO	I' the commonwealth I would by contraries
+	Execute all things; for no kind of traffic
+	Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
+	Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
+	And use of service, none; contract, succession,
+	Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
+	No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
+	No occupation; all men idle, all;
+	And women too, but innocent and pure;
+	No sovereignty;--
+
+SEBASTIAN	                  Yet he would be king on't.
+
+ANTONIO	The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the
+	beginning.
+
+GONZALO	All things in common nature should produce
+	Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
+	Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
+	Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
+	Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance,
+	To feed my innocent people.
+
+SEBASTIAN	No marrying 'mong his subjects?
+
+ANTONIO	None, man; all idle: whores and knaves.
+
+GONZALO	I would with such perfection govern, sir,
+	To excel the golden age.
+
+SEBASTIAN	God save his majesty!
+
+ANTONIO	Long live Gonzalo!
+
+GONZALO	                  And,--do you mark me, sir?
+
+ALONSO	Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.
+
+GONZALO	I do well believe your highness; and
+	did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen,
+	who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that
+	they always use to laugh at nothing.
+
+ANTONIO	'Twas you we laughed at.
+
+GONZALO	Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing
+	to you: so you may continue and laugh at
+	nothing still.
+
+ANTONIO	What a blow was there given!
+
+SEBASTIAN	An it had not fallen flat-long.
+
+GONZALO	You are gentlemen of brave metal; you would lift
+	the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue
+	in it five weeks without changing.
+
+	[Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music]
+
+SEBASTIAN	We would so, and then go a bat-fowling.
+
+ANTONIO	Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
+
+GONZALO	No, I warrant you; I will not adventure
+	my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh
+	me asleep, for I am very heavy?
+
+ANTONIO	Go sleep, and hear us.
+
+	[All sleep except ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, and ANTONIO]
+
+ALONSO	What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes
+	Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find
+	They are inclined to do so.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Please you, sir,
+	Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
+	It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
+	It is a comforter.
+
+ANTONIO	                  We two, my lord,
+	Will guard your person while you take your rest,
+	And watch your safety.
+
+ALONSO	Thank you. Wondrous heavy.
+
+	[ALONSO sleeps. Exit ARIEL]
+
+SEBASTIAN	What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
+
+ANTONIO	It is the quality o' the climate.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Why
+	Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
+	Myself disposed to sleep.
+
+ANTONIO	Nor I; my spirits are nimble.
+	They fell together all, as by consent;
+	They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,
+	Worthy Sebastian? O, what might?--No more:--
+	And yet me thinks I see it in thy face,
+	What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, and
+	My strong imagination sees a crown
+	Dropping upon thy head.
+
+SEBASTIAN	What, art thou waking?
+
+ANTONIO	Do you not hear me speak?
+
+SEBASTIAN	I do; and surely
+	It is a sleepy language and thou speak'st
+	Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?
+	This is a strange repose, to be asleep
+	With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,
+	And yet so fast asleep.
+
+ANTONIO	Noble Sebastian,
+	Thou let'st thy fortune sleep--die, rather; wink'st
+	Whiles thou art waking.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Thou dost snore distinctly;
+	There's meaning in thy snores.
+
+ANTONIO	I am more serious than my custom: you
+	Must be so too, if heed me; which to do
+	Trebles thee o'er.
+
+SEBASTIAN	                  Well, I am standing water.
+
+ANTONIO	I'll teach you how to flow.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Do so: to ebb
+	Hereditary sloth instructs me.
+
+ANTONIO	O,
+	If you but knew how you the purpose cherish
+	Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,
+	You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,
+	Most often do so near the bottom run
+	By their own fear or sloth.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Prithee, say on:
+	The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
+	A matter from thee, and a birth indeed
+	Which throes thee much to yield.
+
+ANTONIO	Thus, sir:
+	Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,
+	Who shall be of as little memory
+	When he is earth'd, hath here almost persuade,--
+	For he's a spirit of persuasion, only
+	Professes to persuade,--the king his son's alive,
+	'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'd
+	And he that sleeps here swims.
+
+SEBASTIAN	I have no hope
+	That he's undrown'd.
+
+ANTONIO	O, out of that 'no hope'
+	What great hope have you! no hope that way is
+	Another way so high a hope that even
+	Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,
+	But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me
+	That Ferdinand is drown'd?
+
+SEBASTIAN	He's gone.
+
+ANTONIO	Then, tell me,
+	Who's the next heir of Naples?
+
+SEBASTIAN	Claribel.
+
+ANTONIO	She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells
+	Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples
+	Can have no note, unless the sun were post--
+	The man i' the moon's too slow--till new-born chins
+	Be rough and razorable; she that--from whom?
+	We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,
+	And by that destiny to perform an act
+	Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come
+	In yours and my discharge.
+
+SEBASTIAN	What stuff is this! how say you?
+	'Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis;
+	So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions
+	There is some space.
+
+ANTONIO	A space whose every cubit
+	Seems to cry out, 'How shall that Claribel
+	Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,
+	And let Sebastian wake.' Say, this were death
+	That now hath seized them; why, they were no worse
+	Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples
+	As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate
+	As amply and unnecessarily
+	As this Gonzalo; I myself could make
+	A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
+	The mind that I do! what a sleep were this
+	For your advancement! Do you understand me?
+
+SEBASTIAN	Methinks I do.
+
+ANTONIO	                  And how does your content
+	Tender your own good fortune?
+
+SEBASTIAN	I remember
+	You did supplant your brother Prospero.
+
+ANTONIO	True:
+	And look how well my garments sit upon me;
+	Much feater than before: my brother's servants
+	Were then my fellows; now they are my men.
+
+SEBASTIAN	But, for your conscience?
+
+ANTONIO	Ay, sir; where lies that? if 'twere a kibe,
+	'Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel not
+	This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,
+	That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they
+	And melt ere they molest! Here lies your brother,
+	No better than the earth he lies upon,
+	If he were that which now he's like, that's dead;
+	Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it,
+	Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus,
+	To the perpetual wink for aye might put
+	This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who
+	Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,
+	They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;
+	They'll tell the clock to any business that
+	We say befits the hour.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Thy case, dear friend,
+	Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan,
+	I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke
+	Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest;
+	And I the king shall love thee.
+
+ANTONIO	Draw together;
+	And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
+	To fall it on Gonzalo.
+
+SEBASTIAN	O, but one word.
+
+	[They talk apart]
+
+	[Re-enter ARIEL, invisible]
+
+ARIEL	My master through his art foresees the danger
+	That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth--
+	For else his project dies--to keep them living.
+
+	[Sings in GONZALO's ear]
+
+	While you here do snoring lie,
+	Open-eyed conspiracy
+	His time doth take.
+	If of life you keep a care,
+	Shake off slumber, and beware:
+	Awake, awake!
+
+ANTONIO	Then let us both be sudden.
+
+GONZALO	Now, good angels
+	Preserve the king.
+
+	[They wake]
+
+ALONSO	Why, how now? ho, awake! Why are you drawn?
+	Wherefore this ghastly looking?
+
+GONZALO	What's the matter?
+
+SEBASTIAN	Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
+	Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
+	Like bulls, or rather lions: did't not wake you?
+	It struck mine ear most terribly.
+
+ALONSO	I heard nothing.
+
+ANTONIO	O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,
+	To make an earthquake! sure, it was the roar
+	Of a whole herd of lions.
+
+ALONSO	Heard you this, Gonzalo?
+
+GONZALO	Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
+	And that a strange one too, which did awake me:
+	I shaked you, sir, and cried: as mine eyes open'd,
+	I saw their weapons drawn: there was a noise,
+	That's verily. 'Tis best we stand upon our guard,
+	Or that we quit this place; let's draw our weapons.
+
+ALONSO	Lead off this ground; and let's make further search
+	For my poor son.
+
+GONZALO	Heavens keep him from these beasts!
+	For he is, sure, i' the island.
+
+ALONSO	Lead away.
+
+ARIEL	Prospero my lord shall know what I have done:
+	So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TEMPEST
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Another part of the island.
+
+
+	[Enter CALIBAN with a burden of wood. A noise of
+	thunder heard]
+
+CALIBAN	All the infections that the sun sucks up
+	From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make him
+	By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me
+	And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,
+	Fright me with urchin--shows, pitch me i' the mire,
+	Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark
+	Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but
+	For every trifle are they set upon me;
+	Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me
+	And after bite me, then like hedgehogs which
+	Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount
+	Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I
+	All wound with adders who with cloven tongues
+	Do hiss me into madness.
+
+	[Enter TRINCULO]
+
+		    Lo, now, lo!
+
+	Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me
+	For bringing wood in slowly. I'll fall flat;
+	Perchance he will not mind me.
+
+TRINCULO	Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off
+	any weather at all, and another storm brewing;
+	I hear it sing i' the wind: yond same black
+	cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul
+	bombard that would shed his liquor. If it
+	should thunder as it did before, I know not
+	where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot
+	choose but fall by pailfuls. What have we
+	here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish:
+	he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-
+	like smell; a kind of not of the newest Poor-
+	John. A strange fish! Were I in England now,
+	as once I was, and had but this fish painted,
+	not a holiday fool there but would give a piece
+	of silver: there would this monster make a
+	man; any strange beast there makes a man:
+	when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame
+	beggar, they will lazy out ten to see a dead
+	Indian. Legged like a man and his fins like
+	arms! Warm o' my troth! I do now let loose
+	my opinion; hold it no longer: this is no fish,
+	but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a
+	thunderbolt.
+
+	[Thunder]
+
+	Alas, the storm is come again! my best way is to
+	creep under his gaberdine; there is no other
+	shelter hereabouts: misery acquaints a man with
+	strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the
+	dregs of the storm be past.
+
+	[Enter STEPHANO, singing: a bottle in his hand]
+
+STEPHANO	   I shall no more to sea, to sea,
+	Here shall I die ashore--
+
+	This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's
+	funeral: well, here's my comfort. [Drinks]
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I,
+	The gunner and his mate
+	Loved Mall, Meg and Marian and Margery,
+	But none of us cared for Kate;
+	For she had a tongue with a tang,
+	Would cry to a sailor, Go hang!
+	She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch,
+	Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch:
+	Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang!
+
+	This is a scurvy tune too: but here's my comfort.
+	[Drinks]
+
+CALIBAN	Do not torment me: Oh!
+
+STEPHANO	What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put
+	tricks upon's with savages and men of Ind, ha? I
+	have not scaped drowning to be afeard now of your
+	four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as
+	ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground;
+	and it shall be said so again while Stephano
+	breathes at's nostrils.
+
+CALIBAN	The spirit torments me; Oh!
+
+STEPHANO	This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who
+	hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil
+	should he learn our language? I will give him some
+	relief, if it be but for that. if I can recover him
+	and keep him tame and get to Naples with him, he's a
+	present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's leather.
+
+CALIBAN	Do not torment me, prithee; I'll bring my wood home faster.
+
+STEPHANO	He's in his fit now and does not talk after the
+	wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have
+	never drunk wine afore will go near to remove his
+	fit. If I can recover him and keep him tame, I will
+	not take too much for him; he shall pay for him that
+	hath him, and that soundly.
+
+CALIBAN	Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I
+	know it by thy trembling: now Prosper works upon thee.
+
+STEPHANO	Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is that
+	which will give language to you, cat: open your
+	mouth; this will shake your shaking, I can tell you,
+	and that soundly: you cannot tell who's your friend:
+	open your chaps again.
+
+TRINCULO	I should know that voice: it should be--but he is
+	drowned; and these are devils: O defend me!
+
+STEPHANO	Four legs and two voices: a most delicate monster!
+	His forward voice now is to speak well of his
+	friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches
+	and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will
+	recover him, I will help his ague. Come. Amen! I
+	will pour some in thy other mouth.
+
+TRINCULO	Stephano!
+
+STEPHANO	Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy! This is
+	a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no
+	long spoon.
+
+TRINCULO	Stephano! If thou beest Stephano, touch me and
+	speak to me: for I am Trinculo--be not afeard--thy
+	good friend Trinculo.
+
+STEPHANO	If thou beest Trinculo, come forth: I'll pull thee
+	by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs,
+	these are they. Thou art very Trinculo indeed! How
+	camest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? can
+	he vent Trinculos?
+
+TRINCULO	I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke. But
+	art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now thou art
+	not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me
+	under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine for fear of
+	the storm. And art thou living, Stephano? O
+	Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scaped!
+
+STEPHANO	Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.
+
+CALIBAN	[Aside]  These be fine things, an if they be
+	not sprites.
+	That's a brave god and bears celestial liquor.
+	I will kneel to him.
+
+STEPHANO	How didst thou 'scape? How camest thou hither?
+	swear by this bottle how thou camest hither. I
+	escaped upon a butt of sack which the sailors
+	heaved o'erboard, by this bottle; which I made of
+	the bark of a tree with mine own hands since I was
+	cast ashore.
+
+CALIBAN	I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject;
+	for the liquor is not earthly.
+
+STEPHANO	Here; swear then how thou escapedst.
+
+TRINCULO	Swum ashore. man, like a duck: I can swim like a
+	duck, I'll be sworn.
+
+STEPHANO	Here, kiss the book. Though thou canst swim like a
+	duck, thou art made like a goose.
+
+TRINCULO	O Stephano. hast any more of this?
+
+STEPHANO	The whole butt, man: my cellar is in a rock by the
+	sea-side where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf!
+	how does thine ague?
+
+CALIBAN	Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven?
+
+STEPHANO	Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man i'
+	the moon when time was.
+
+CALIBAN	I have seen thee in her and I do adore thee:
+	My mistress show'd me thee and thy dog and thy bush.
+
+STEPHANO	Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furnish
+	it anon with new contents swear.
+
+TRINCULO	By this good light, this is a very shallow monster!
+	I afeard of him! A very weak monster! The man i'
+	the moon! A most poor credulous monster! Well
+	drawn, monster, in good sooth!
+
+CALIBAN	I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island;
+	And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god.
+
+TRINCULO	By this light, a most perfidious and drunken
+	monster! when 's god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle.
+
+CALIBAN	I'll kiss thy foot; I'll swear myself thy subject.
+
+STEPHANO	Come on then; down, and swear.
+
+TRINCULO	I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed
+	monster. A most scurvy monster! I could find in my
+	heart to beat him,--
+
+STEPHANO	Come, kiss.
+
+TRINCULO	But that the poor monster's in drink: an abominable monster!
+
+CALIBAN	I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee berries;
+	I'll fish for thee and get thee wood enough.
+	A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!
+	I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
+	Thou wondrous man.
+
+TRINCULO	A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a
+	Poor drunkard!
+
+CALIBAN	I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
+	And I with my long nails will dig thee pignuts;
+	Show thee a jay's nest and instruct thee how
+	To snare the nimble marmoset; I'll bring thee
+	To clustering filberts and sometimes I'll get thee
+	Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?
+
+STEPHANO	I prithee now, lead the way without any more
+	talking. Trinculo, the king and all our company
+	else being drowned, we will inherit here: here;
+	bear my bottle: fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by
+	and by again.
+
+CALIBAN	[Sings drunkenly]
+	Farewell master; farewell, farewell!
+
+TRINCULO	A howling monster: a drunken monster!
+
+CALIBAN	   No more dams I'll make for fish
+	Nor fetch in firing
+	At requiring;
+	Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish
+	'Ban, 'Ban, Cacaliban
+	Has a new master: get a new man.
+
+	Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom,
+	hey-day, freedom!
+
+STEPHANO	O brave monster! Lead the way.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TEMPEST
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before PROSPERO'S Cell.
+
+
+	[Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log]
+
+FERDINAND	There be some sports are painful, and their labour
+	Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness
+	Are nobly undergone and most poor matters
+	Point to rich ends. This my mean task
+	Would be as heavy to me as odious, but
+	The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead
+	And makes my labours pleasures: O, she is
+	Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed,
+	And he's composed of harshness. I must remove
+	Some thousands of these logs and pile them up,
+	Upon a sore injunction: my sweet mistress
+	Weeps when she sees me work, and says, such baseness
+	Had never like executor. I forget:
+	But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours,
+	Most busy lest, when I do it.
+
+	[Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance, unseen]
+
+MIRANDA	Alas, now, pray you,
+	Work not so hard: I would the lightning had
+	Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile!
+	Pray, set it down and rest you: when this burns,
+	'Twill weep for having wearied you. My father
+	Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself;
+	He's safe for these three hours.
+
+FERDINAND	O most dear mistress,
+	The sun will set before I shall discharge
+	What I must strive to do.
+
+MIRANDA	If you'll sit down,
+	I'll bear your logs the while: pray, give me that;
+	I'll carry it to the pile.
+
+FERDINAND	No, precious creature;
+	I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
+	Than you should such dishonour undergo,
+	While I sit lazy by.
+
+MIRANDA	It would become me
+	As well as it does you: and I should do it
+	With much more ease; for my good will is to it,
+	And yours it is against.
+
+PROSPERO	Poor worm, thou art infected!
+	This visitation shows it.
+
+MIRANDA	You look wearily.
+
+FERDINAND	No, noble mistress;'tis fresh morning with me
+	When you are by at night. I do beseech you--
+	Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers--
+	What is your name?
+
+MIRANDA	                  Miranda.--O my father,
+	I have broke your hest to say so!
+
+FERDINAND	Admired Miranda!
+	Indeed the top of admiration! worth
+	What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady
+	I have eyed with best regard and many a time
+	The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
+	Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues
+	Have I liked several women; never any
+	With so fun soul, but some defect in her
+	Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed
+	And put it to the foil: but you, O you,
+	So perfect and so peerless, are created
+	Of every creature's best!
+
+MIRANDA	I do not know
+	One of my sex; no woman's face remember,
+	Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen
+	More that I may call men than you, good friend,
+	And my dear father: how features are abroad,
+	I am skilless of; but, by my modesty,
+	The jewel in my dower, I would not wish
+	Any companion in the world but you,
+	Nor can imagination form a shape,
+	Besides yourself, to like of. But I prattle
+	Something too wildly and my father's precepts
+	I therein do forget.
+
+FERDINAND	I am in my condition
+	A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;
+	I would, not so!--and would no more endure
+	This wooden slavery than to suffer
+	The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak:
+	The very instant that I saw you, did
+	My heart fly to your service; there resides,
+	To make me slave to it; and for your sake
+	Am I this patient log--man.
+
+MIRANDA	Do you love me?
+
+FERDINAND	O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound
+	And crown what I profess with kind event
+	If I speak true! if hollowly, invert
+	What best is boded me to mischief! I
+	Beyond all limit of what else i' the world
+	Do love, prize, honour you.
+
+MIRANDA	I am a fool
+	To weep at what I am glad of.
+
+PROSPERO	Fair encounter
+	Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
+	On that which breeds between 'em!
+
+FERDINAND	Wherefore weep you?
+
+MIRANDA	At mine unworthiness that dare not offer
+	What I desire to give, and much less take
+	What I shall die to want. But this is trifling;
+	And all the more it seeks to hide itself,
+	The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning!
+	And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!
+	I am your wife, it you will marry me;
+	If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow
+	You may deny me; but I'll be your servant,
+	Whether you will or no.
+
+FERDINAND	My mistress, dearest;
+	And I thus humble ever.
+
+MIRANDA	My husband, then?
+
+FERDINAND	Ay, with a heart as willing
+	As bondage e'er of freedom: here's my hand.
+
+MIRANDA	And mine, with my heart in't; and now farewell
+	Till half an hour hence.
+
+FERDINAND	A thousand thousand!
+
+	[Exeunt FERDINAND and MIRANDA severally]
+
+PROSPERO	So glad of this as they I cannot be,
+	Who are surprised withal; but my rejoicing
+	At nothing can be more. I'll to my book,
+	For yet ere supper-time must I perform
+	Much business appertaining.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TEMPEST
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Another part of the island.
+
+
+	[Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO]
+
+STEPHANO	Tell not me; when the butt is out, we will drink
+	water; not a drop before: therefore bear up, and
+	board 'em. Servant-monster, drink to me.
+
+TRINCULO	Servant-monster! the folly of this island! They
+	say there's but five upon this isle: we are three
+	of them; if th' other two be brained like us, the
+	state totters.
+
+STEPHANO	Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee: thy eyes
+	are almost set in thy head.
+
+TRINCULO	Where should they be set else? he were a brave
+	monster indeed, if they were set in his tail.
+
+STEPHANO	My man-monster hath drown'd his tongue in sack:
+	for my part, the sea cannot drown me; I swam, ere I
+	could recover the shore, five and thirty leagues off
+	and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant,
+	monster, or my standard.
+
+TRINCULO	Your lieutenant, if you list; he's no standard.
+
+STEPHANO	We'll not run, Monsieur Monster.
+
+TRINCULO	Nor go neither; but you'll lie like dogs and yet say
+	nothing neither.
+
+STEPHANO	Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a
+	good moon-calf.
+
+CALIBAN	How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe.
+	I'll not serve him; he's not valiant.
+
+TRINCULO	Thou liest, most ignorant monster: I am in case to
+	justle a constable. Why, thou deboshed fish thou,
+	was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much
+	sack as I to-day? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie,
+	being but half a fish and half a monster?
+
+CALIBAN	Lo, how he mocks me! wilt thou let him, my lord?
+
+TRINCULO	'Lord' quoth he! That a monster should be such a natural!
+
+CALIBAN	Lo, lo, again! bite him to death, I prithee.
+
+STEPHANO	Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head: if you
+	prove a mutineer,--the next tree! The poor monster's
+	my subject and he shall not suffer indignity.
+
+CALIBAN	I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleased to
+	hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?
+
+STEPHANO	Marry, will I	kneel and repeat it; I will stand,
+	and so shall Trinculo.
+
+	[Enter ARIEL, invisible]
+
+CALIBAN	As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a
+	sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.
+
+ARIEL	Thou liest.
+
+CALIBAN	Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou: I would my
+	valiant master would destroy thee! I do not lie.
+
+STEPHANO	Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in's tale, by
+	this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.
+
+TRINCULO	Why, I said nothing.
+
+STEPHANO	Mum, then, and no more. Proceed.
+
+CALIBAN	I say, by sorcery he got this isle;
+	From me he got it. if thy greatness will
+	Revenge it on him,--for I know thou darest,
+	But this thing dare not,--
+
+STEPHANO	That's most certain.
+
+CALIBAN	Thou shalt be lord of it and I'll serve thee.
+
+STEPHANO	How now shall this be compassed?
+	Canst thou bring me to the party?
+
+CALIBAN	Yea, yea, my lord: I'll yield him thee asleep,
+	Where thou mayst knock a nail into his bead.
+
+ARIEL	Thou liest; thou canst not.
+
+CALIBAN	What a pied ninny's this! Thou scurvy patch!
+	I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows
+	And take his bottle from him: when that's gone
+	He shall drink nought but brine; for I'll not show him
+	Where the quick freshes are.
+
+STEPHANO	Trinculo, run into no further danger:
+	interrupt the monster one word further, and,
+	by this hand, I'll turn my mercy out o' doors
+	and make a stock-fish of thee.
+
+TRINCULO	Why, what did I? I did nothing. I'll go farther
+	off.
+
+STEPHANO	Didst thou not say he lied?
+
+ARIEL	Thou liest.
+
+STEPHANO	Do I so? take thou that.
+
+	[Beats TRINCULO]
+
+	As you like this, give me the lie another time.
+
+TRINCULO	I did not give the lie. Out o' your
+	wits and bearing too? A pox o' your bottle!
+	this can sack and drinking do. A murrain on
+	your monster, and the devil take your fingers!
+
+CALIBAN	Ha, ha, ha!
+
+STEPHANO	Now, forward with your tale. Prithee, stand farther
+	off.
+
+CALIBAN	Beat him enough: after a little time
+	I'll beat him too.
+
+STEPHANO	                  Stand farther. Come, proceed.
+
+CALIBAN	Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him,
+	I' th' afternoon to sleep: there thou mayst brain him,
+	Having first seized his books, or with a log
+	Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,
+	Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember
+	First to possess his books; for without them
+	He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not
+	One spirit to command: they all do hate him
+	As rootedly as I. Burn but his books.
+	He has brave utensils,--for so he calls them--
+	Which when he has a house, he'll deck withal
+	And that most deeply to consider is
+	The beauty of his daughter; he himself
+	Calls her a nonpareil: I never saw a woman,
+	But only Sycorax my dam and she;
+	But she as far surpasseth Sycorax
+	As great'st does least.
+
+STEPHANO	Is it so brave a lass?
+
+CALIBAN	Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant.
+	And bring thee forth brave brood.
+
+STEPHANO	Monster, I will kill this man: his daughter and I
+	will be king and queen--save our graces!--and
+	Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost thou
+	like the plot, Trinculo?
+
+TRINCULO	Excellent.
+
+STEPHANO	Give me thy hand: I am sorry I beat thee; but,
+	while thou livest, keep a good tongue in thy head.
+
+CALIBAN	Within this half hour will he be asleep:
+	Wilt thou destroy him then?
+
+STEPHANO	Ay, on mine honour.
+
+ARIEL	This will I tell my master.
+
+CALIBAN	Thou makest me merry; I am full of pleasure:
+	Let us be jocund: will you troll the catch
+	You taught me but while-ere?
+
+STEPHANO	At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any
+	reason. Come on, Trinculo, let us sing.
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	Flout 'em and scout 'em
+	And scout 'em and flout 'em
+	Thought is free.
+
+CALIBAN	That's not the tune.
+
+	[Ariel plays the tune on a tabour and pipe]
+
+STEPHANO	What is this same?
+
+TRINCULO	This is the tune of our catch, played by the picture
+	of Nobody.
+
+STEPHANO	If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy likeness:
+	if thou beest a devil, take't as thou list.
+
+TRINCULO	O, forgive me my sins!
+
+STEPHANO	He that dies pays all debts: I defy thee. Mercy upon us!
+
+CALIBAN	Art thou afeard?
+
+STEPHANO	No, monster, not I.
+
+CALIBAN	Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
+	Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
+	Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
+	Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices
+	That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
+	Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
+	The clouds methought would open and show riches
+	Ready to drop upon me that, when I waked,
+	I cried to dream again.
+
+STEPHANO	This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall
+	have my music for nothing.
+
+CALIBAN	When Prospero is destroyed.
+
+STEPHANO	That shall be by and by: I remember the story.
+
+TRINCULO	The sound is going away; let's follow it, and
+	after do our work.
+
+STEPHANO	Lead, monster; we'll follow. I would I could see
+	this tabourer; he lays it on.
+
+TRINCULO	Wilt come? I'll follow, Stephano.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TEMPEST
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Another part of the island.
+
+
+	[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO,
+	ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others]
+
+GONZALO	By'r lakin, I can go no further, sir;
+	My old bones ache: here's a maze trod indeed
+	Through forth-rights and meanders! By your patience,
+	I needs must rest me.
+
+ALONSO	Old lord, I cannot blame thee,
+	Who am myself attach'd with weariness,
+	To the dulling of my spirits: sit down, and rest.
+	Even here I will put off my hope and keep it
+	No longer for my flatterer: he is drown'd
+	Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks
+	Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.
+
+ANTONIO	[Aside to SEBASTIAN]  I am right glad that he's so
+	out of hope.
+	Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose
+	That you resolved to effect.
+
+SEBASTIAN	[Aside to ANTONIO]  The next advantage
+	Will we take throughly.
+
+ANTONIO	[Aside to SEBASTIAN]  Let it be to-night;
+	For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they
+	Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance
+	As when they are fresh.
+
+SEBASTIAN	[Aside to ANTONIO]  I say, to-night: no more.
+
+	[Solemn and strange music]
+
+ALONSO	What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!
+
+GONZALO	Marvellous sweet music!
+
+	[Enter PROSPERO above, invisible. Enter several
+	strange Shapes, bringing in a banquet;
+	they dance about it with gentle actions of
+	salutation; and, inviting the King, &c. to
+	eat, they depart]
+
+ALONSO	Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?
+
+SEBASTIAN	A living drollery. Now I will believe
+	That there are unicorns, that in Arabia
+	There is one tree, the phoenix' throne, one phoenix
+	At this hour reigning there.
+
+ANTONIO	I'll believe both;
+	And what does else want credit, come to me,
+	And I'll be sworn 'tis true: travellers ne'er did
+	lie,
+	Though fools at home condemn 'em.
+
+GONZALO	If in Naples
+	I should report this now, would they believe me?
+	If I should say, I saw such islanders--
+	For, certes, these are people of the island--
+	Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet, note,
+	Their manners are more gentle-kind than of
+	Our human generation you shall find
+	Many, nay, almost any.
+
+PROSPERO	[Aside]              Honest lord,
+	Thou hast said well; for some of you there present
+	Are worse than devils.
+
+ALONSO	I cannot too much muse
+	Such shapes, such gesture and such sound, expressing,
+	Although they want the use of tongue, a kind
+	Of excellent dumb discourse.
+
+PROSPERO	[Aside]	Praise in departing.
+
+FRANCISCO	They vanish'd strangely.
+
+SEBASTIAN	No matter, since
+	They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.
+	Will't please you taste of what is here?
+
+ALONSO	Not I.
+
+GONZALO	Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,
+	Who would believe that there were mountaineers
+	Dew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at 'em
+	Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men
+	Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find
+	Each putter-out of five for one will bring us
+	Good warrant of.
+
+ALONSO	                  I will stand to and feed,
+	Although my last: no matter, since I feel
+	The best is past. Brother, my lord the duke,
+	Stand to and do as we.
+
+	[Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a
+	harpy; claps his wings upon the table; and,
+	with a quaint device, the banquet vanishes]
+
+ARIEL	You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,
+	That hath to instrument this lower world
+	And what is in't, the never-surfeited sea
+	Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island
+	Where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst men
+	Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad;
+	And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
+	Their proper selves.
+
+	[ALONSO, SEBASTIAN &c. draw their swords]
+
+		You fools! I and my fellows
+	Are ministers of Fate: the elements,
+	Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well
+	Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs
+	Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
+	One dowle that's in my plume: my fellow-ministers
+	Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
+	Your swords are now too massy for your strengths
+	And will not be uplifted. But remember--
+	For that's my business to you--that you three
+	From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
+	Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,
+	Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed
+	The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
+	Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
+	Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
+	They have bereft; and do pronounce by me:
+	Lingering perdition, worse than any death
+	Can be at once, shall step by step attend
+	You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from--
+	Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
+	Upon your heads--is nothing but heart-sorrow
+	And a clear life ensuing.
+
+	[He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music
+	enter the Shapes again, and dance, with
+	mocks and mows, and carrying out the table]
+
+PROSPERO	Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou
+	Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring:
+	Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated
+	In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life
+	And observation strange, my meaner ministers
+	Their several kinds have done. My high charms work
+	And these mine enemies are all knit up
+	In their distractions; they now are in my power;
+	And in these fits I leave them, while I visit
+	Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown'd,
+	And his and mine loved darling.
+
+	[Exit above]
+
+GONZALO	I' the name of something holy, sir, why stand you
+	In this strange stare?
+
+ALONSO	O, it is monstrous, monstrous:
+	Methought the billows spoke and told me of it;
+	The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder,
+	That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced
+	The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass.
+	Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded, and
+	I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded
+	And with him there lie mudded.
+	[Exit]
+
+SEBASTIAN	But one fiend at a time,
+	I'll fight their legions o'er.
+
+ANTONIO	I'll be thy second.
+
+	[Exeunt SEBASTIAN, and ANTONIO]
+
+GONZALO	All three of them are desperate: their great guilt,
+	Like poison given to work a great time after,
+	Now 'gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you
+	That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly
+	And hinder them from what this ecstasy
+	May now provoke them to.
+
+ADRIAN	Follow, I pray you.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TEMPEST
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before PROSPERO'S cell.
+
+
+	[Enter PROSPERO, FERDINAND, and MIRANDA]
+
+PROSPERO	If I have too austerely punish'd you,
+	Your compensation makes amends, for I
+	Have given you here a third of mine own life,
+	Or that for which I live; who once again
+	I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations
+	Were but my trials of thy love and thou
+	Hast strangely stood the test here, afore Heaven,
+	I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand,
+	Do not smile at me that I boast her off,
+	For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise
+	And make it halt behind her.
+
+FERDINAND	I do believe it
+	Against an oracle.
+
+PROSPERO	Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition
+	Worthily purchased take my daughter: but
+	If thou dost break her virgin-knot before
+	All sanctimonious ceremonies may
+	With full and holy rite be minister'd,
+	No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
+	To make this contract grow: but barren hate,
+	Sour-eyed disdain and discord shall bestrew
+	The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
+	That you shall hate it both: therefore take heed,
+	As Hymen's lamps shall light you.
+
+FERDINAND	As I hope
+	For quiet days, fair issue and long life,
+	With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den,
+	The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion.
+	Our worser genius can, shall never melt
+	Mine honour into lust, to take away
+	The edge of that day's celebration
+	When I shall think: or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd,
+	Or Night kept chain'd below.
+
+PROSPERO	Fairly spoke.
+	Sit then and talk with her; she is thine own.
+	What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!
+
+	[Enter ARIEL]
+
+ARIEL	What would my potent master? here I am.
+
+PROSPERO	Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service
+	Did worthily perform; and I must use you
+	In such another trick. Go bring the rabble,
+	O'er whom I give thee power, here to this place:
+	Incite them to quick motion; for I must
+	Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple
+	Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise,
+	And they expect it from me.
+
+ARIEL	Presently?
+
+PROSPERO	Ay, with a twink.
+
+ARIEL	   Before you can say 'come' and 'go,'
+	And breathe twice and cry 'so, so,'
+	Each one, tripping on his toe,
+	Will be here with mop and mow.
+	Do you love me, master? no?
+
+PROSPERO	Dearly my delicate Ariel. Do not approach
+	Till thou dost hear me call.
+
+ARIEL	Well, I conceive.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PROSPERO	Look thou be true; do not give dalliance
+	Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw
+	To the fire i' the blood: be more abstemious,
+	Or else, good night your vow!
+
+FERDINAND	I warrant you sir;
+	The white cold virgin snow upon my heart
+	Abates the ardour of my liver.
+
+PROSPERO	Well.
+	Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary,
+	Rather than want a spirit: appear and pertly!
+	No tongue! all eyes! be silent.
+
+	[Soft music]
+
+	[Enter IRIS]
+
+IRIS	Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
+	Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats and pease;
+	Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
+	And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep;
+	Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,
+	Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,
+	To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom -groves,
+	Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,
+	Being lass-lorn: thy pole-clipt vineyard;
+	And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,
+	Where thou thyself dost air;--the queen o' the sky,
+	Whose watery arch and messenger am I,
+	Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace,
+	Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
+	To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain:
+	Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
+
+	[Enter CERES]
+
+CERES	Hail, many-colour'd messenger, that ne'er
+	Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
+	Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers
+	Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers,
+	And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown
+	My bosky acres and my unshrubb'd down,
+	Rich scarf to my proud earth; why hath thy queen
+	Summon'd me hither, to this short-grass'd green?
+
+IRIS	A contract of true love to celebrate;
+	And some donation freely to estate
+	On the blest lovers.
+
+CERES	Tell me, heavenly bow,
+	If Venus or her son, as thou dost know,
+	Do now attend the queen? Since they did plot
+	The means that dusky Dis my daughter got,
+	Her and her blind boy's scandal'd company
+	I have forsworn.
+
+IRIS	                  Of her society
+	Be not afraid: I met her deity
+	Cutting the clouds towards Paphos and her son
+	Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done
+	Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,
+	Whose vows are, that no bed-right shall be paid
+	Till Hymen's torch be lighted: but vain;
+	Mars's hot minion is returned again;
+	Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
+	Swears he will shoot no more but play with sparrows
+	And be a boy right out.
+
+CERES	High'st queen of state,
+	Great Juno, comes; I know her by her gait.
+
+	[Enter JUNO]
+
+JUNO	How does my bounteous sister? Go with me
+	To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be
+	And honour'd in their issue.
+
+	[They sing:]
+
+JUNO	   Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
+	Long continuance, and increasing,
+	Hourly joys be still upon you!
+	Juno sings her blessings upon you.
+
+CERES	   Earth's increase, foison plenty,
+	Barns and garners never empty,
+	Vines and clustering bunches growing,
+	Plants with goodly burthen bowing;
+	Spring come to you at the farthest
+	In the very end of harvest!
+	Scarcity and want shall shun you;
+	Ceres' blessing so is on you.
+
+FERDINAND	This is a most majestic vision, and
+	Harmoniously charmingly. May I be bold
+	To think these spirits?
+
+PROSPERO	Spirits, which by mine art
+	I have from their confines call'd to enact
+	My present fancies.
+
+FERDINAND	Let me live here ever;
+	So rare a wonder'd father and a wife
+	Makes this place Paradise.
+
+	[Juno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on
+	employment]
+
+PROSPERO	Sweet, now, silence!
+	Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;
+	There's something else to do: hush, and be mute,
+	Or else our spell is marr'd.
+
+IRIS	You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the windring brooks,
+	With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks,
+	Leave your crisp channels and on this green land
+	Answer your summons; Juno does command:
+	Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
+	A contract of true love; be not too late.
+
+	[Enter certain Nymphs]
+
+	You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
+	Come hither from the furrow and be merry:
+	Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on
+	And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
+	In country footing.
+
+	[Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they
+	join with the Nymphs in a graceful dance;
+	towards the end whereof PROSPERO starts
+	suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a
+	strange, hollow, and confused noise, they
+	heavily vanish]
+
+PROSPERO	[Aside]  I had forgot that foul conspiracy
+	Of the beast Caliban and his confederates
+	Against my life: the minute of their plot
+	Is almost come.
+
+	[To the Spirits]
+
+	Well done! avoid; no more!
+
+FERDINAND	This is strange: your father's in some passion
+	That works him strongly.
+
+MIRANDA	Never till this day
+	Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd.
+
+PROSPERO	You do look, my son, in a moved sort,
+	As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir.
+	Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
+	As I foretold you, were all spirits and
+	Are melted into air, into thin air:
+	And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
+	The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
+	The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
+	Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve
+	And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
+	Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
+	As dreams are made on, and our little life
+	Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex'd;
+	Bear with my weakness; my, brain is troubled:
+	Be not disturb'd with my infirmity:
+	If you be pleased, retire into my cell
+	And there repose: a turn or two I'll walk,
+	To still my beating mind.
+
+
+FERDINAND	|
+	|  We wish your peace.
+MIRANDA	|
+
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+PROSPERO	Come with a thought I thank thee, Ariel: come.
+
+	[Enter ARIEL]
+
+ARIEL	Thy thoughts I cleave to. What's thy pleasure?
+
+PROSPERO	Spirit,
+	We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
+
+ARIEL	Ay, my commander: when I presented Ceres,
+	I thought to have told thee of it, but I fear'd
+	Lest I might anger thee.
+
+PROSPERO	Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?
+
+ARIEL	I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
+	So fun of valour that they smote the air
+	For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
+	For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
+	Towards their project. Then I beat my tabour;
+	At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd
+	their ears,
+	Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses
+	As they smelt music: so I charm'd their ears
+	That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through
+	Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss and thorns,
+	Which entered their frail shins: at last I left them
+	I' the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell,
+	There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake
+	O'erstunk their feet.
+
+PROSPERO	This was well done, my bird.
+	Thy shape invisible retain thou still:
+	The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither,
+	For stale to catch these thieves.
+
+ARIEL	I go, I go.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PROSPERO	A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
+	Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains,
+	Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;
+	And as with age his body uglier grows,
+	So his mind cankers. I will plague them all,
+	Even to roaring.
+
+	[Re-enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, &c]
+
+	Come, hang them on this line.
+
+	[PROSPERO and ARIEL remain invisible. Enter
+	CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, all wet]
+
+CALIBAN	Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not
+	Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell.
+
+STEPHANO	Monster, your fairy, which you say is
+	a harmless fairy, has done little better than
+	played the Jack with us.
+
+TRINCULO	Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at
+	which my nose is in great indignation.
+
+STEPHANO	So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take
+	a displeasure against you, look you,--
+
+TRINCULO	Thou wert but a lost monster.
+
+CALIBAN	Good my lord, give me thy favour still.
+	Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to
+	Shall hoodwink this mischance: therefore speak softly.
+	All's hush'd as midnight yet.
+
+TRINCULO	Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool,--
+
+STEPHANO	There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that,
+	monster, but an infinite loss.
+
+TRINCULO	That's more to me than my wetting: yet this is your
+	harmless fairy, monster.
+
+STEPHANO	I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er ears
+	for my labour.
+
+CALIBAN	Prithee, my king, be quiet. Seest thou here,
+	This is the mouth o' the cell: no noise, and enter.
+	Do that good mischief which may make this island
+	Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,
+	For aye thy foot-licker.
+
+STEPHANO	Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody thoughts.
+
+TRINCULO	O king Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano! look
+	what a wardrobe here is for thee!
+
+CALIBAN	Let it alone, thou fool; it is but trash.
+
+TRINCULO	O, ho, monster! we know what belongs to a frippery.
+	O king Stephano!
+
+STEPHANO	Put off that gown, Trinculo; by this hand, I'll have
+	that gown.
+
+TRINCULO	Thy grace shall have it.
+
+CALIBAN	The dropsy drown this fool I what do you mean
+	To dote thus on such luggage? Let's alone
+	And do the murder first: if he awake,
+	From toe to crown he'll fill our skins with pinches,
+	Make us strange stuff.
+
+STEPHANO	Be you quiet, monster. Mistress line,
+	is not this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under
+	the line: now, jerkin, you are like to lose your
+	hair and prove a bald jerkin.
+
+TRINCULO	Do, do: we steal by line and level, an't like your grace.
+
+STEPHANO	I thank thee for that jest; here's a garment for't:
+	wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king of this
+	country. 'Steal by line and level' is an excellent
+	pass of pate; there's another garment for't.
+
+TRINCULO	Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers, and
+	away with the rest.
+
+CALIBAN	I will have none on't: we shall lose our time,
+	And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes
+	With foreheads villanous low.
+
+STEPHANO	Monster, lay-to your fingers: help to bear this
+	away where my hogshead of wine is, or I'll turn you
+	out of my kingdom: go to, carry this.
+
+TRINCULO	And this.
+
+STEPHANO	Ay, and this.
+
+	[A noise of hunters heard. Enter divers Spirits,
+	in shape of dogs and hounds, and hunt them about,
+	PROSPERO and ARIEL setting them on]
+
+PROSPERO	Hey, Mountain, hey!
+
+ARIEL	Silver I there it goes, Silver!
+
+PROSPERO	Fury, Fury! there, Tyrant, there! hark! hark!
+
+	[CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, are
+	driven out]
+
+	Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints
+	With dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews
+	With aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make them
+	Than pard or cat o' mountain.
+
+ARIEL	Hark, they roar!
+
+PROSPERO	Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour
+	Lie at my mercy all mine enemies:
+	Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou
+	Shalt have the air at freedom: for a little
+	Follow, and do me service.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TEMPEST
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before PROSPERO'S cell.
+
+
+	[Enter PROSPERO in his magic robes, and ARIEL]
+
+PROSPERO	Now does my project gather to a head:
+	My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and time
+	Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day?
+
+ARIEL	On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,
+	You said our work should cease.
+
+PROSPERO	I did say so,
+	When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit,
+	How fares the king and's followers?
+
+ARIEL	Confined together
+	In the same fashion as you gave in charge,
+	Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,
+	In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell;
+	They cannot budge till your release. The king,
+	His brother and yours, abide all three distracted
+	And the remainder mourning over them,
+	Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly
+	Him that you term'd, sir, 'The good old lord Gonzalo;'
+	His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops
+	From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works 'em
+	That if you now beheld them, your affections
+	Would become tender.
+
+PROSPERO	Dost thou think so, spirit?
+
+ARIEL	Mine would, sir, were I human.
+
+PROSPERO	And mine shall.
+	Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling
+	Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,
+	One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,
+	Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?
+	Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick,
+	Yet with my nobler reason 'gaitist my fury
+	Do I take part: the rarer action is
+	In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent,
+	The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
+	Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel:
+	My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore,
+	And they shall be themselves.
+
+ARIEL	I'll fetch them, sir.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PROSPERO	Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves,
+	And ye that on the sands with printless foot
+	Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him
+	When he comes back; you demi-puppets that
+	By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,
+	Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime
+	Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice
+	To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,
+	Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd
+	The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds,
+	And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault
+	Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder
+	Have I given fire and rifted Jove's stout oak
+	With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory
+	Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck'd up
+	The pine and cedar: graves at my command
+	Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let 'em forth
+	By my so potent art. But this rough magic
+	I here abjure, and, when I have required
+	Some heavenly music, which even now I do,
+	To work mine end upon their senses that
+	This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,
+	Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
+	And deeper than did ever plummet sound
+	I'll drown my book.
+
+	[Solemn music]
+
+	[Re-enter ARIEL before: then ALONSO, with a
+	frantic gesture, attended by GONZALO;
+	SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO in like manner,
+	attended by ADRIAN and FRANCISCO   they all
+	enter the circle which PROSPERO had made,
+	and there stand charmed; which PROSPERO
+	observing, speaks:]
+
+	A solemn air and the best comforter
+	To an unsettled fancy cure thy brains,
+	Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand,
+	For you are spell-stopp'd.
+	Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,
+	Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine,
+	Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace,
+	And as the morning steals upon the night,
+	Melting the darkness, so their rising senses
+	Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle
+	Their clearer reason. O good Gonzalo,
+	My true preserver, and a loyal sir
+	To him you follow'st! I will pay thy graces
+	Home both in word and deed. Most cruelly
+	Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter:
+	Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.
+	Thou art pinch'd fort now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood,
+	You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,
+	Expell'd remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian,
+	Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,
+	Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive thee,
+	Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding
+	Begins to swell, and the approaching tide
+	Will shortly fill the reasonable shore
+	That now lies foul and muddy. Not one of them
+	That yet looks on me, or would know me Ariel,
+	Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell:
+	I will discase me, and myself present
+	As I was sometime Milan: quickly, spirit;
+	Thou shalt ere long be free.
+
+	[ARIEL sings and helps to attire him]
+
+	Where the bee sucks. there suck I:
+	In a cowslip's bell I lie;
+	There I couch when owls do cry.
+	On the bat's back I do fly
+	After summer merrily.
+	Merrily, merrily shall I live now
+	Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
+
+PROSPERO	Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee:
+	But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, so.
+	To the king's ship, invisible as thou art:
+	There shalt thou find the mariners asleep
+	Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain
+	Being awake, enforce them to this place,
+	And presently, I prithee.
+
+ARIEL	I drink the air before me, and return
+	Or ere your pulse twice beat.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+GONZALO	All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement
+	Inhabits here: some heavenly power guide us
+	Out of this fearful country!
+
+PROSPERO	Behold, sir king,
+	The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero:
+	For more assurance that a living prince
+	Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;
+	And to thee and thy company I bid
+	A hearty welcome.
+
+ALONSO	                  Whether thou best he or no,
+	Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,
+	As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse
+	Beats as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,
+	The affliction of my mind amends, with which,
+	I fear, a madness held me: this must crave,
+	An if this be at all, a most strange story.
+	Thy dukedom I resign and do entreat
+	Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero
+	Be living and be here?
+
+PROSPERO	First, noble friend,
+	Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot
+	Be measured or confined.
+
+GONZALO	Whether this be
+	Or be not, I'll not swear.
+
+PROSPERO	You do yet taste
+	Some subtilties o' the isle, that will not let you
+	Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends all!
+
+	[Aside to SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO]
+
+	But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded,
+	I here could pluck his highness' frown upon you
+	And justify you traitors: at this time
+	I will tell no tales.
+
+SEBASTIAN	[Aside]  The devil speaks in him.
+
+PROSPERO	No.
+	For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother
+	Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive
+	Thy rankest fault; all of them; and require
+	My dukedom of thee, which perforce, I know,
+	Thou must restore.
+
+ALONSO	                  If thou be'st Prospero,
+	Give us particulars of thy preservation;
+	How thou hast met us here, who three hours since
+	Were wreck'd upon this shore; where I have lost--
+	How sharp the point of this remembrance is!--
+	My dear son Ferdinand.
+
+PROSPERO	I am woe for't, sir.
+
+ALONSO	Irreparable is the loss, and patience
+	Says it is past her cure.
+
+PROSPERO	I rather think
+	You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace
+	For the like loss I have her sovereign aid
+	And rest myself content.
+
+ALONSO	You the like loss!
+
+PROSPERO	As great to me as late; and, supportable
+	To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
+	Than you may call to comfort you, for I
+	Have lost my daughter.
+
+ALONSO	A daughter?
+	O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,
+	The king and queen there! that they were, I wish
+	Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
+	Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
+
+PROSPERO	In this last tempest. I perceive these lords
+	At this encounter do so much admire
+	That they devour their reason and scarce think
+	Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
+	Are natural breath: but, howsoe'er you have
+	Been justled from your senses, know for certain
+	That I am Prospero and that very duke
+	Which was thrust forth of Milan, who most strangely
+	Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was landed,
+	To be the lord on't. No more yet of this;
+	For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
+	Not a relation for a breakfast nor
+	Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir;
+	This cell's my court: here have I few attendants
+	And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in.
+	My dukedom since you have given me again,
+	I will requite you with as good a thing;
+	At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye
+	As much as me my dukedom.
+
+	[Here PROSPERO discovers FERDINAND and MIRANDA
+	playing at chess]
+
+MIRANDA	Sweet lord, you play me false.
+
+FERDINAND	No, my dear'st love,
+	I would not for the world.
+
+MIRANDA	Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle,
+	And I would call it, fair play.
+
+ALONSO	If this prove
+	A vision of the Island, one dear son
+	Shall I twice lose.
+
+SEBASTIAN	A most high miracle!
+
+FERDINAND	Though the seas threaten, they are merciful;
+	I have cursed them without cause.
+
+	[Kneels]
+
+ALONSO	Now all the blessings
+	Of a glad father compass thee about!
+	Arise, and say how thou camest here.
+
+MIRANDA	O, wonder!
+	How many goodly creatures are there here!
+	How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,
+	That has such people in't!
+
+PROSPERO	'Tis new to thee.
+
+ALONSO	What is this maid with whom thou wast at play?
+	Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours:
+	Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us,
+	And brought us thus together?
+
+FERDINAND	Sir, she is mortal;
+	But by immortal Providence she's mine:
+	I chose her when I could not ask my father
+	For his advice, nor thought I had one. She
+	Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan,
+	Of whom so often I have heard renown,
+	But never saw before; of whom I have
+	Received a second life; and second father
+	This lady makes him to me.
+
+ALONSO	I am hers:
+	But, O, how oddly will it sound that I
+	Must ask my child forgiveness!
+
+PROSPERO	There, sir, stop:
+	Let us not burthen our remembrance with
+	A heaviness that's gone.
+
+GONZALO	I have inly wept,
+	Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you god,
+	And on this couple drop a blessed crown!
+	For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way
+	Which brought us hither.
+
+ALONSO	I say, Amen, Gonzalo!
+
+GONZALO	Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue
+	Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice
+	Beyond a common joy, and set it down
+	With gold on lasting pillars: In one voyage
+	Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis,
+	And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife
+	Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedom
+	In a poor isle and all of us ourselves
+	When no man was his own.
+
+ALONSO	[To FERDINAND and MIRANDA]  Give me your hands:
+	Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart
+	That doth not wish you joy!
+
+GONZALO	Be it so! Amen!
+
+	[Re-enter ARIEL, with the Master and Boatswain
+	amazedly following]
+
+	O, look, sir, look, sir! here is more of us:
+	I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,
+	This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy,
+	That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on shore?
+	Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?
+
+Boatswain	The best news is, that we have safely found
+	Our king and company; the next, our ship--
+	Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split--
+	Is tight and yare and bravely rigg'd as when
+	We first put out to sea.
+
+ARIEL	[Aside to PROSPERO]  Sir, all this service
+	Have I done since I went.
+
+PROSPERO	[Aside to ARIEL]  My tricksy spirit!
+
+ALONSO	These are not natural events; they strengthen
+	From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?
+
+Boatswain	If I did think, sir, I were well awake,
+	I'ld strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep,
+	And--how we know not--all clapp'd under hatches;
+	Where but even now with strange and several noises
+	Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,
+	And more diversity of sounds, all horrible,
+	We were awaked; straightway, at liberty;
+	Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
+	Our royal, good and gallant ship, our master
+	Capering to eye her: on a trice, so please you,
+	Even in a dream, were we divided from them
+	And were brought moping hither.
+
+ARIEL	[Aside to PROSPERO]          Was't well done?
+
+PROSPERO	[Aside to ARIEL]  Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.
+
+ALONSO	This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod
+	And there is in this business more than nature
+	Was ever conduct of: some oracle
+	Must rectify our knowledge.
+
+PROSPERO	Sir, my liege,
+	Do not infest your mind with beating on
+	The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure
+	Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you,
+	Which to you shall seem probable, of every
+	These happen'd accidents; till when, be cheerful
+	And think of each thing well.
+
+	[Aside to ARIEL]
+
+		        Come hither, spirit:
+	Set Caliban and his companions free;
+	Untie the spell.
+
+	[Exit ARIEL]
+
+	How fares my gracious sir?
+	There are yet missing of your company
+	Some few odd lads that you remember not.
+
+	[Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO
+	and TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel]
+
+STEPHANO	Every man shift for all the rest, and
+	let no man take care for himself; for all is
+	but fortune. Coragio, bully-monster, coragio!
+
+TRINCULO	If these be true spies which I wear in my head,
+	here's a goodly sight.
+
+CALIBAN	O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed!
+	How fine my master is! I am afraid
+	He will chastise me.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Ha, ha!
+	What things are these, my lord Antonio?
+	Will money buy 'em?
+
+ANTONIO	Very like; one of them
+	Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.
+
+PROSPERO	Mark but the badges of these men, my lords,
+	Then say if they be true. This mis-shapen knave,
+	His mother was a witch, and one so strong
+	That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
+	And deal in her command without her power.
+	These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil--
+	For he's a bastard one--had plotted with them
+	To take my life. Two of these fellows you
+	Must know and own; this thing of darkness!
+	Acknowledge mine.
+
+CALIBAN	                  I shall be pinch'd to death.
+
+ALONSO	Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
+
+SEBASTIAN	He is drunk now: where had he wine?
+
+ALONSO	And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they
+	Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em?
+	How camest thou in this pickle?
+
+TRINCULO	I have been in such a pickle since I
+	saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of
+	my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Why, how now, Stephano!
+
+STEPHANO	O, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
+
+PROSPERO	You'ld be king o' the isle, sirrah?
+
+STEPHANO	I should have been a sore one then.
+
+ALONSO	This is a strange thing as e'er I look'd on.
+
+	[Pointing to Caliban]
+
+PROSPERO	He is as disproportion'd in his manners
+	As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell;
+	Take with you your companions; as you look
+	To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
+
+CALIBAN	Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter
+	And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass
+	Was I, to take this drunkard for a god
+	And worship this dull fool!
+
+PROSPERO	Go to; away!
+
+ALONSO	Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Or stole it, rather.
+
+	[Exeunt CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO]
+
+PROSPERO	Sir, I invite your highness and your train
+	To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
+	For this one night; which, part of it, I'll waste
+	With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
+	Go quick away; the story of my life
+	And the particular accidents gone by
+	Since I came to this isle: and in the morn
+	I'll bring you to your ship and so to Naples,
+	Where I have hope to see the nuptial
+	Of these our dear-beloved solemnized;
+	And thence retire me to my Milan, where
+	Every third thought shall be my grave.
+
+ALONSO	I long
+	To hear the story of your life, which must
+	Take the ear strangely.
+
+PROSPERO	I'll deliver all;
+	And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales
+	And sail so expeditious that shall catch
+	Your royal fleet far off.
+
+	[Aside to ARIEL]
+
+		    My Ariel, chick,
+	That is thy charge: then to the elements
+	Be free, and fare thou well! Please you, draw near.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TEMPEST
+
+	EPILOGUE
+
+
+	SPOKEN BY PROSPERO
+
+	Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
+	And what strength I have's mine own,
+	Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
+	I must be here confined by you,
+	Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
+	Since I have my dukedom got
+	And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
+	In this bare island by your spell;
+	But release me from my bands
+	With the help of your good hands:
+	Gentle breath of yours my sails
+	Must fill, or else my project fails,
+	Which was to please. Now I want
+	Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
+	And my ending is despair,
+	Unless I be relieved by prayer,
+	Which pierces so that it assaults
+	Mercy itself and frees all faults.
+	As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
+	Let your indulgence set me free.
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+PRIAM	king of Troy.
+
+
+HECTOR	|
+	|
+TROILUS	|
+	|
+PARIS	|  his sons.
+	|
+DEIPHOBUS	|
+	|
+HELENUS	|
+
+
+MARGARELON	a bastard son of Priam.
+
+
+AENEAS	|
+	|  Trojan commanders.
+ANTENOR	|
+
+
+CALCHAS	a Trojan priest, taking part with the Greeks.
+
+PANDARUS	uncle to Cressida.
+
+AGAMEMNON	the Grecian general.
+
+MENELAUS	his brother.
+
+
+ACHILLES	|
+	|
+AJAX	|
+	|
+ULYSSES	|
+	|  Grecian princes.
+NESTOR	|
+	|
+DIOMEDES	|
+	|
+PATROCLUS	|
+
+
+THERSITES	a deformed and scurrilous Grecian.
+
+ALEXANDER	servant to Cressida.
+
+	Servant to Troilus. (Boy:)
+
+	Servant to Paris.
+
+	Servant to Diomedes. (Servant:)
+
+HELEN	wife to Menelaus.
+
+ANDROMACHE	wife to Hector.
+
+CASSANDRA	daughter to Priam, a prophetess.
+
+CRESSIDA	daughter to Calchas.
+
+	Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants.
+
+
+SCENE	Troy, and the Grecian camp before it.
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+	PROLOGUE
+
+
+	In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece
+	The princes orgulous, their high blood chafed,
+	Have to the port of Athens sent their ships,
+	Fraught with the ministers and instruments
+	Of cruel war: sixty and nine, that wore
+	Their crownets regal, from the Athenian bay
+	Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made
+	To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures
+	The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen,
+	With wanton Paris sleeps; and that's the quarrel.
+	To Tenedos they come;
+	And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge
+	Their warlike fraughtage: now on Dardan plains
+	The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch
+	Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city,
+	Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien,
+	And Antenorides, with massy staples
+	And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,
+	Sperr up the sons of Troy.
+	Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits,
+	On one and other side, Trojan and Greek,
+	Sets all on hazard: and hither am I come
+	A prologue arm'd, but not in confidence
+	Of author's pen or actor's voice, but suited
+	In like conditions as our argument,
+	To tell you, fair beholders, that our play
+	Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils,
+	Beginning in the middle, starting thence away
+	To what may be digested in a play.
+	Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are:
+	Now good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war.
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Troy. Before Priam's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS]
+
+TROILUS	Call here my varlet; I'll unarm again:
+	Why should I war without the walls of Troy,
+	That find such cruel battle here within?
+	Each Trojan that is master of his heart,
+	Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath none.
+
+PANDARUS	Will this gear ne'er be mended?
+
+TROILUS	The Greeks are strong and skilful to their strength,
+	Fierce to their skill and to their fierceness valiant;
+	But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
+	Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance,
+	Less valiant than the virgin in the night
+	And skilless as unpractised infancy.
+
+PANDARUS	Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part,
+	I'll not meddle nor make no further. He that will
+	have a cake out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding.
+
+TROILUS	Have I not tarried?
+
+PANDARUS	Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry
+	the bolting.
+
+TROILUS	Have I not tarried?
+
+PANDARUS	Ay, the bolting, but you must tarry the leavening.
+
+TROILUS	Still have I tarried.
+
+PANDARUS	Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word
+	'hereafter' the kneading, the making of the cake, the
+	heating of the oven and the baking; nay, you must
+	stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips.
+
+TROILUS	Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be,
+	Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do.
+	At Priam's royal table do I sit;
+	And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,--
+	So, traitor! 'When she comes!' When is she thence?
+
+PANDARUS	Well, she looked yesternight fairer than ever I saw
+	her look, or any woman else.
+
+TROILUS	I was about to tell thee:--when my heart,
+	As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain,
+	Lest Hector or my father should perceive me,
+	I have, as when the sun doth light a storm,
+	Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile:
+	But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladness,
+	Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.
+
+PANDARUS	An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's--
+	well, go to--there were no more comparison between
+	the women: but, for my part, she is my kinswoman; I
+	would not, as they term it, praise her: but I would
+	somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I
+	will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit, but--
+
+TROILUS	O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,--
+	When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drown'd,
+	Reply not in how many fathoms deep
+	They lie indrench'd. I tell thee I am mad
+	In Cressid's love: thou answer'st 'she is fair;'
+	Pour'st in the open ulcer of my heart
+	Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice,
+	Handlest in thy discourse, O, that her hand,
+	In whose comparison all whites are ink,
+	Writing their own reproach, to whose soft seizure
+	The cygnet's down is harsh and spirit of sense
+	Hard as the palm of ploughman: this thou tell'st me,
+	As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her;
+	But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm,
+	Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me
+	The knife that made it.
+
+PANDARUS	I speak no more than truth.
+
+TROILUS	Thou dost not speak so much.
+
+PANDARUS	Faith, I'll not meddle in't. Let her be as she is:
+	if she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be
+	not, she has the mends in her own hands.
+
+TROILUS	Good Pandarus, how now, Pandarus!
+
+PANDARUS	I have had my labour for my travail; ill-thought on of
+	her and ill-thought on of you; gone between and
+	between, but small thanks for my labour.
+
+TROILUS	What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with me?
+
+PANDARUS	Because she's kin to me, therefore she's not so fair
+	as Helen: an she were not kin to me, she would be as
+	fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday. But what care
+	I? I care not an she were a black-a-moor; 'tis all one to me.
+
+TROILUS	Say I she is not fair?
+
+PANDARUS	I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to
+	stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; and so
+	I'll tell her the next time I see her: for my part,
+	I'll meddle nor make no more i' the matter.
+
+TROILUS	Pandarus,--
+
+PANDARUS	Not I.
+
+TROILUS	Sweet Pandarus,--
+
+PANDARUS	Pray you, speak no more to me: I will leave all as I
+	found it, and there an end.
+
+	[Exit PANDARUS. An alarum]
+
+TROILUS	Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude sounds!
+	Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,
+	When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
+	I cannot fight upon this argument;
+	It is too starved a subject for my sword.
+	But Pandarus,--O gods, how do you plague me!
+	I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar;
+	And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo.
+	As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.
+	Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
+	What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we?
+	Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl:
+	Between our Ilium and where she resides,
+	Let it be call'd the wild and wandering flood,
+	Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar
+	Our doubtful hope, our convoy and our bark.
+
+	[Alarum. Enter AENEAS]
+
+AENEAS	How now, Prince Troilus! wherefore not afield?
+
+TROILUS	Because not there: this woman's answer sorts,
+	For womanish it is to be from thence.
+	What news, AEneas, from the field to-day?
+
+AENEAS	That Paris is returned home and hurt.
+
+TROILUS	By whom, AEneas?
+
+AENEAS	                  Troilus, by Menelaus.
+
+TROILUS	Let Paris bleed; 'tis but a scar to scorn;
+	Paris is gored with Menelaus' horn.
+
+	[Alarum]
+
+AENEAS	Hark, what good sport is out of town to-day!
+
+TROILUS	Better at home, if 'would I might' were 'may.'
+	But to the sport abroad: are you bound thither?
+
+AENEAS	In all swift haste.
+
+TROILUS	Come, go we then together.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The Same. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter CRESSIDA and ALEXANDER]
+
+CRESSIDA	Who were those went by?
+
+ALEXANDER	Queen Hecuba and Helen.
+
+CRESSIDA	And whither go they?
+
+ALEXANDER	Up to the eastern tower,
+	Whose height commands as subject all the vale,
+	To see the battle. Hector, whose patience
+	Is, as a virtue, fix'd, to-day was moved:
+	He chid Andromache and struck his armourer,
+	And, like as there were husbandry in war,
+	Before the sun rose he was harness'd light,
+	And to the field goes he; where every flower
+	Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw
+	In Hector's wrath.
+
+CRESSIDA	                  What was his cause of anger?
+
+ALEXANDER	The noise goes, this: there is among the Greeks
+	A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector;
+	They call him Ajax.
+
+CRESSIDA	Good; and what of him?
+
+ALEXANDER	They say he is a very man per se,
+	And stands alone.
+
+CRESSIDA	So do all men, unless they are drunk, sick, or have no legs.
+
+ALEXANDER	This man, lady, hath robbed many beasts of their
+	particular additions; he is as valiant as the lion,
+	churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant: a man
+	into whom nature hath so crowded humours that his
+	valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced with
+	discretion: there is no man hath a virtue that he
+	hath not a glimpse of, nor any man an attaint but he
+	carries some stain of it: he is melancholy without
+	cause, and merry against the hair: he hath the
+	joints of every thing, but everything so out of joint
+	that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use,
+	or purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight.
+
+CRESSIDA	But how should this man, that makes
+	me smile, make Hector angry?
+
+ALEXANDER	They say he yesterday coped Hector in the battle and
+	struck him down, the disdain and shame whereof hath
+	ever since kept Hector fasting and waking.
+
+CRESSIDA	Who comes here?
+
+ALEXANDER	Madam, your uncle Pandarus.
+
+	[Enter PANDARUS]
+
+CRESSIDA	Hector's a gallant man.
+
+ALEXANDER	As may be in the world, lady.
+
+PANDARUS	What's that? what's that?
+
+CRESSIDA	Good morrow, uncle Pandarus.
+
+PANDARUS	Good morrow, cousin Cressid: what do you talk of?
+	Good morrow, Alexander. How do you, cousin? When
+	were you at Ilium?
+
+CRESSIDA	This morning, uncle.
+
+PANDARUS	What were you talking of when I came? Was Hector
+	armed and gone ere ye came to Ilium? Helen was not
+	up, was she?
+
+CRESSIDA	Hector was gone, but Helen was not up.
+
+PANDARUS	Even so: Hector was stirring early.
+
+CRESSIDA	That were we talking of, and of his anger.
+
+PANDARUS	Was he angry?
+
+CRESSIDA	So he says here.
+
+PANDARUS	True, he was so: I know the cause too: he'll lay
+	about him to-day, I can tell them that: and there's
+	Troilus will not come far behind him: let them take
+	heed of Troilus, I can tell them that too.
+
+CRESSIDA	What, is he angry too?
+
+PANDARUS	Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better man of the two.
+
+CRESSIDA	O Jupiter! there's no comparison.
+
+PANDARUS	What, not between Troilus and Hector? Do you know a
+	man if you see him?
+
+CRESSIDA	Ay, if I ever saw him before and knew him.
+
+PANDARUS	Well, I say Troilus is Troilus.
+
+CRESSIDA	Then you say as I say; for, I am sure, he is not Hector.
+
+PANDARUS	No, nor Hector is not Troilus in some degrees.
+
+CRESSIDA	'Tis just to each of them; he is himself.
+
+PANDARUS	Himself! Alas, poor Troilus! I would he were.
+
+CRESSIDA	So he is.
+
+PANDARUS	Condition, I had gone barefoot to India.
+
+CRESSIDA	He is not Hector.
+
+PANDARUS	Himself! no, he's not himself: would a' were
+	himself! Well, the gods are above; time must friend
+	or end: well, Troilus, well: I would my heart were
+	in her body. No, Hector is not a better man than Troilus.
+
+CRESSIDA	Excuse me.
+
+PANDARUS	He is elder.
+
+CRESSIDA	Pardon me, pardon me.
+
+PANDARUS	Th' other's not come to't; you shall tell me another
+	tale, when th' other's come to't. Hector shall not
+	have his wit this year.
+
+CRESSIDA	He shall not need it, if he have his own.
+
+PANDARUS	Nor his qualities.
+
+CRESSIDA	No matter.
+
+PANDARUS	Nor his beauty.
+
+CRESSIDA	'Twould not become him; his own's better.
+
+PANDARUS	You have no judgment, niece: Helen
+	herself swore th' other day, that Troilus, for
+	a brown favour--for so 'tis, I must confess,--
+	not brown neither,--
+
+CRESSIDA	No, but brown.
+
+PANDARUS	'Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.
+
+CRESSIDA	To say the truth, true and not true.
+
+PANDARUS	She praised his complexion above Paris.
+
+CRESSIDA	Why, Paris hath colour enough.
+
+PANDARUS	So he has.
+
+CRESSIDA	Then Troilus should have too much: if she praised
+	him above, his complexion is higher than his; he
+	having colour enough, and the other higher, is too
+	flaming a praise for a good complexion. I had as
+	lief Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for
+	a copper nose.
+
+PANDARUS	I swear to you. I think Helen loves him better than Paris.
+
+CRESSIDA	Then she's a merry Greek indeed.
+
+PANDARUS	Nay, I am sure she does. She came to him th' other
+	day into the compassed window,--and, you know, he
+	has not past three or four hairs on his chin,--
+
+CRESSIDA	Indeed, a tapster's arithmetic may soon bring his
+	particulars therein to a total.
+
+PANDARUS	Why, he is very young: and yet will he, within
+	three pound, lift as much as his brother Hector.
+
+CRESSIDA	Is he so young a man and so old a lifter?
+
+PANDARUS	But to prove to you that Helen loves him: she came
+	and puts me her white hand to his cloven chin--
+
+CRESSIDA	Juno have mercy! how came it cloven?
+
+PANDARUS	Why, you know 'tis dimpled: I think his smiling
+	becomes him better than any man in all Phrygia.
+
+CRESSIDA	O, he smiles valiantly.
+
+PANDARUS	Does he not?
+
+CRESSIDA	O yes, an 'twere a cloud in autumn.
+
+PANDARUS	Why, go to, then: but to prove to you that Helen
+	loves Troilus,--
+
+CRESSIDA	Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll
+	prove it so.
+
+PANDARUS	Troilus! why, he esteems her no more than I esteem
+	an addle egg.
+
+CRESSIDA	If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle
+	head, you would eat chickens i' the shell.
+
+PANDARUS	I cannot choose but laugh, to think how she tickled
+	his chin: indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I
+	must needs confess,--
+
+CRESSIDA	Without the rack.
+
+PANDARUS	And she takes upon her to spy a white hair on his chin.
+
+CRESSIDA	Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer.
+
+PANDARUS	But there was such laughing! Queen Hecuba laughed
+	that her eyes ran o'er.
+
+CRESSIDA	With mill-stones.
+
+PANDARUS	And Cassandra laughed.
+
+CRESSIDA	But there was more temperate fire under the pot of
+	her eyes: did her eyes run o'er too?
+
+PANDARUS	And Hector laughed.
+
+CRESSIDA	At what was all this laughing?
+
+PANDARUS	Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus' chin.
+
+CRESSIDA	An't had been a green hair, I should have laughed
+	too.
+
+PANDARUS	They laughed not so much at the hair as at his pretty answer.
+
+CRESSIDA	What was his answer?
+
+PANDARUS	Quoth she, 'Here's but two and fifty hairs on your
+	chin, and one of them is white.
+
+CRESSIDA	This is her question.
+
+PANDARUS	That's true; make no question of that. 'Two and
+	fifty hairs' quoth he, 'and one white: that white
+	hair is my father, and all the rest are his sons.'
+	'Jupiter!' quoth she, 'which of these hairs is Paris,
+	my husband? 'The forked one,' quoth he, 'pluck't
+	out, and give it him.' But there was such laughing!
+	and Helen so blushed, an Paris so chafed, and all the
+	rest so laughed, that it passed.
+
+CRESSIDA	So let it now; for it has been while going by.
+
+PANDARUS	Well, cousin. I told you a thing yesterday; think on't.
+
+CRESSIDA	So I do.
+
+PANDARUS	I'll be sworn 'tis true; he will weep you, an 'twere
+	a man born in April.
+
+CRESSIDA	And I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a nettle
+	against May.
+
+	[A retreat sounded]
+
+PANDARUS	Hark! they are coming from the field: shall we
+	stand up here, and see them as they pass toward
+	Ilium? good niece, do, sweet niece Cressida.
+
+CRESSIDA	At your pleasure.
+
+PANDARUS	Here, here, here's an excellent place; here we may
+	see most bravely: I'll tell you them all by their
+	names as they pass by; but mark Troilus above the rest.
+
+CRESSIDA	Speak not so loud.
+
+	[AENEAS passes]
+
+PANDARUS	That's AEneas: is not that a brave man? he's one of
+	the flowers of Troy, I can tell you: but mark
+	Troilus; you shall see anon.
+
+	[ANTENOR passes]
+
+CRESSIDA	Who's that?
+
+PANDARUS	That's Antenor: he has a shrewd wit, I can tell you;
+	and he's a man good enough, he's one o' the soundest
+	judgments in whosoever, and a proper man of person.
+	When comes Troilus? I'll show you Troilus anon: if
+	he see me, you shall see him nod at me.
+
+CRESSIDA	Will he give you the nod?
+
+PANDARUS	You shall see.
+
+CRESSIDA	If he do, the rich shall have more.
+
+	[HECTOR passes]
+
+PANDARUS	That's Hector, that, that, look you, that; there's a
+	fellow! Go thy way, Hector! There's a brave man,
+	niece. O brave Hector! Look how he looks! there's
+	a countenance! is't not a brave man?
+
+CRESSIDA	O, a brave man!
+
+PANDARUS	Is a' not? it does a man's heart good. Look you
+	what hacks are on his helmet! look you yonder, do
+	you see? look you there: there's no jesting;
+	there's laying on, take't off who will, as they say:
+	there be hacks!
+
+CRESSIDA	Be those with swords?
+
+PANDARUS	Swords! any thing, he cares not; an the devil come
+	to him, it's all one: by God's lid, it does one's
+	heart good. Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris.
+
+	[PARIS passes]
+
+	Look ye yonder, niece; is't not a gallant man too,
+	is't not? Why, this is brave now. Who said he came
+	hurt home to-day? he's not hurt: why, this will do
+	Helen's heart good now, ha! Would I could see
+	Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon.
+
+	[HELENUS passes]
+
+CRESSIDA	Who's that?
+
+PANDARUS	That's Helenus. I marvel where Troilus is. That's
+	Helenus. I think he went not forth to-day. That's Helenus.
+
+CRESSIDA	Can Helenus fight, uncle?
+
+PANDARUS	Helenus? no. Yes, he'll fight indifferent well. I
+	marvel where Troilus is. Hark! do you not hear the
+	people cry 'Troilus'? Helenus is a priest.
+
+CRESSIDA	What sneaking fellow comes yonder?
+
+	[TROILUS passes]
+
+PANDARUS	Where? yonder? that's Deiphobus. 'Tis Troilus!
+	there's a man, niece! Hem! Brave Troilus! the
+	prince of chivalry!
+
+CRESSIDA	Peace, for shame, peace!
+
+PANDARUS	Mark him; note him. O brave Troilus! Look well upon
+	him, niece: look you how his sword is bloodied, and
+	his helm more hacked than Hector's, and how he looks,
+	and how he goes! O admirable youth! he ne'er saw
+	three and twenty. Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way!
+	Had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a goddess,
+	he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris?
+	Paris is dirt to him; and, I warrant, Helen, to
+	change, would give an eye to boot.
+
+CRESSIDA	Here come more.
+
+	[Forces pass]
+
+PANDARUS	Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran!
+	porridge after meat! I could live and die i' the
+	eyes of Troilus. Ne'er look, ne'er look: the eagles
+	are gone: crows and daws, crows and daws! I had
+	rather be such a man as Troilus than Agamemnon and
+	all Greece.
+
+CRESSIDA	There is among the Greeks Achilles, a better man than Troilus.
+
+PANDARUS	Achilles! a drayman, a porter, a very camel.
+
+CRESSIDA	Well, well.
+
+PANDARUS	'Well, well!' why, have you any discretion? have
+	you any eyes? Do you know what a man is? Is not
+	birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, manhood,
+	learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality,
+	and such like, the spice and salt that season a man?
+
+CRESSIDA	Ay, a minced man: and then to be baked with no date
+	in the pie, for then the man's date's out.
+
+PANDARUS	You are such a woman! one knows not at what ward you
+	lie.
+
+CRESSIDA	Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to
+	defend my wiles; upon my secrecy, to defend mine
+	honesty; my mask, to defend my beauty; and you, to
+	defend all these: and at all these wards I lie, at a
+	thousand watches.
+
+PANDARUS	Say one of your watches.
+
+CRESSIDA	Nay, I'll watch you for that; and that's one of the
+	chiefest of them too: if I cannot ward what I would
+	not have hit, I can watch you for telling how I took
+	the blow; unless it swell past hiding, and then it's
+	past watching.
+
+PANDARUS	You are such another!
+
+	[Enter Troilus's Boy]
+
+Boy	Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you.
+
+PANDARUS	Where?
+
+Boy	At your own house; there he unarms him.
+
+PANDARUS	Good boy, tell him I come.
+
+	[Exit boy]
+
+	I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye well, good niece.
+
+CRESSIDA	Adieu, uncle.
+
+PANDARUS	I'll be with you, niece, by and by.
+
+CRESSIDA	To bring, uncle?
+
+PANDARUS	Ay, a token from Troilus.
+
+CRESSIDA	By the same token, you are a bawd.
+
+	[Exit PANDARUS]
+
+	Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice,
+	He offers in another's enterprise;
+	But more in Troilus thousand fold I see
+	Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be;
+	Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing:
+	Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing.
+	That she beloved knows nought that knows not this:
+	Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is:
+	That she was never yet that ever knew
+	Love got so sweet as when desire did sue.
+	Therefore this maxim out of love I teach:
+	Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech:
+	Then though my heart's content firm love doth bear,
+	Nothing of that shall from mine eyes appear.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The Grecian camp. Before Agamemnon's tent.
+
+
+	[Sennet. Enter AGAMEMNON, NESTOR, ULYSSES,
+	MENELAUS, and others]
+
+AGAMEMNON	Princes,
+	What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks?
+	The ample proposition that hope makes
+	In all designs begun on earth below
+	Fails in the promised largeness: cheques and disasters
+	Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd,
+	As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap,
+	Infect the sound pine and divert his grain
+	Tortive and errant from his course of growth.
+	Nor, princes, is it matter new to us
+	That we come short of our suppose so far
+	That after seven years' siege yet Troy walls stand;
+	Sith every action that hath gone before,
+	Whereof we have record, trial did draw
+	Bias and thwart, not answering the aim,
+	And that unbodied figure of the thought
+	That gave't surmised shape. Why then, you princes,
+	Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works,
+	And call them shames? which are indeed nought else
+	But the protractive trials of great Jove
+	To find persistive constancy in men:
+	The fineness of which metal is not found
+	In fortune's love; for then the bold and coward,
+	The wise and fool, the artist and unread,
+	The hard and soft seem all affined and kin:
+	But, in the wind and tempest of her frown,
+	Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan,
+	Puffing at all, winnows the light away;
+	And what hath mass or matter, by itself
+	Lies rich in virtue and unmingled.
+
+NESTOR	With due observance of thy godlike seat,
+	Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply
+	Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance
+	Lies the true proof of men: the sea being smooth,
+	How many shallow bauble boats dare sail
+	Upon her patient breast, making their way
+	With those of nobler bulk!
+	But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage
+	The gentle Thetis, and anon behold
+	The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut,
+	Bounding between the two moist elements,
+	Like Perseus' horse: where's then the saucy boat
+	Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now
+	Co-rivall'd greatness? Either to harbour fled,
+	Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so
+	Doth valour's show and valour's worth divide
+	In storms of fortune; for in her ray and brightness
+	The herd hath more annoyance by the breeze
+	Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind
+	Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks,
+	And flies fled under shade, why, then the thing of courage
+	As roused with rage with rage doth sympathize,
+	And with an accent tuned in selfsame key
+	Retorts to chiding fortune.
+
+ULYSSES	Agamemnon,
+	Thou great commander, nerve and bone of Greece,
+	Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit.
+	In whom the tempers and the minds of all
+	Should be shut up, hear what Ulysses speaks.
+	Besides the applause and approbation To which,
+
+	[To AGAMEMNON]
+
+	most mighty for thy place and sway,
+
+	[To NESTOR]
+
+	And thou most reverend for thy stretch'd-out life
+	I give to both your speeches, which were such
+	As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece
+	Should hold up high in brass, and such again
+	As venerable Nestor, hatch'd in silver,
+	Should with a bond of air, strong as the axle-tree
+	On which heaven rides, knit all the Greekish ears
+	To his experienced tongue, yet let it please both,
+	Thou great, and wise, to hear Ulysses speak.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Speak, prince of Ithaca; and be't of less expect
+	That matter needless, of importless burden,
+	Divide thy lips, than we are confident,
+	When rank Thersites opes his mastic jaws,
+	We shall hear music, wit and oracle.
+
+ULYSSES	Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down,
+	And the great Hector's sword had lack'd a master,
+	But for these instances.
+	The specialty of rule hath been neglected:
+	And, look, how many Grecian tents do stand
+	Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow factions.
+	When that the general is not like the hive
+	To whom the foragers shall all repair,
+	What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded,
+	The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask.
+	The heavens themselves, the planets and this centre
+	Observe degree, priority and place,
+	Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
+	Office and custom, in all line of order;
+	And therefore is the glorious planet Sol
+	In noble eminence enthroned and sphered
+	Amidst the other; whose medicinable eye
+	Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,
+	And posts, like the commandment of a king,
+	Sans cheque to good and bad: but when the planets
+	In evil mixture to disorder wander,
+	What plagues and what portents! what mutiny!
+	What raging of the sea! shaking of earth!
+	Commotion in the winds! frights, changes, horrors,
+	Divert and crack, rend and deracinate
+	The unity and married calm of states
+	Quite from their fixure! O, when degree is shaked,
+	Which is the ladder to all high designs,
+	Then enterprise is sick! How could communities,
+	Degrees in schools and brotherhoods in cities,
+	Peaceful commerce from dividable shores,
+	The primogenitive and due of birth,
+	Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,
+	But by degree, stand in authentic place?
+	Take but degree away, untune that string,
+	And, hark, what discord follows! each thing meets
+	In mere oppugnancy: the bounded waters
+	Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores
+	And make a sop of all this solid globe:
+	Strength should be lord of imbecility,
+	And the rude son should strike his father dead:
+	Force should be right; or rather, right and wrong,
+	Between whose endless jar justice resides,
+	Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
+	Then every thing includes itself in power,
+	Power into will, will into appetite;
+	And appetite, an universal wolf,
+	So doubly seconded with will and power,
+	Must make perforce an universal prey,
+	And last eat up himself. Great Agamemnon,
+	This chaos, when degree is suffocate,
+	Follows the choking.
+	And this neglection of degree it is
+	That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose
+	It hath to climb. The general's disdain'd
+	By him one step below, he by the next,
+	That next by him beneath; so every step,
+	Exampled by the first pace that is sick
+	Of his superior, grows to an envious fever
+	Of pale and bloodless emulation:
+	And 'tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot,
+	Not her own sinews. To end a tale of length,
+	Troy in our weakness stands, not in her strength.
+
+NESTOR	Most wisely hath Ulysses here discover'd
+	The fever whereof all our power is sick.
+
+AGAMEMNON	The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses,
+	What is the remedy?
+
+ULYSSES	The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns
+	The sinew and the forehand of our host,
+	Having his ear full of his airy fame,
+	Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent
+	Lies mocking our designs: with him Patroclus
+	Upon a lazy bed the livelong day
+	Breaks scurril jests;
+	And with ridiculous and awkward action,
+	Which, slanderer, he imitation calls,
+	He pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon,
+	Thy topless deputation he puts on,
+	And, like a strutting player, whose conceit
+	Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it rich
+	To hear the wooden dialogue and sound
+	'Twixt his stretch'd footing and the scaffoldage,--
+	Such to-be-pitied and o'er-wrested seeming
+	He acts thy greatness in: and when he speaks,
+	'Tis like a chime a-mending; with terms unsquared,
+	Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropp'd
+	Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff
+	The large Achilles, on his press'd bed lolling,
+	From his deep chest laughs out a loud applause;
+	Cries 'Excellent! 'tis Agamemnon just.
+	Now play me Nestor; hem, and stroke thy beard,
+	As he being drest to some oration.'
+	That's done, as near as the extremest ends
+	Of parallels, as like as Vulcan and his wife:
+	Yet god Achilles still cries 'Excellent!
+	'Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Patroclus,
+	Arming to answer in a night alarm.'
+	And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age
+	Must be the scene of mirth; to cough and spit,
+	And, with a palsy-fumbling on his gorget,
+	Shake in and out the rivet: and at this sport
+	Sir Valour dies; cries 'O, enough, Patroclus;
+	Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all
+	In pleasure of my spleen.' And in this fashion,
+	All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes,
+	Severals and generals of grace exact,
+	Achievements, plots, orders, preventions,
+	Excitements to the field, or speech for truce,
+	Success or loss, what is or is not, serves
+	As stuff for these two to make paradoxes.
+
+NESTOR	And in the imitation of these twain--
+	Who, as Ulysses says, opinion crowns
+	With an imperial voice--many are infect.
+	Ajax is grown self-will'd, and bears his head
+	In such a rein, in full as proud a place
+	As broad Achilles; keeps his tent like him;
+	Makes factious feasts; rails on our state of war,
+	Bold as an oracle, and sets Thersites,
+	A slave whose gall coins slanders like a mint,
+	To match us in comparisons with dirt,
+	To weaken and discredit our exposure,
+	How rank soever rounded in with danger.
+
+ULYSSES	They tax our policy, and call it cowardice,
+	Count wisdom as no member of the war,
+	Forestall prescience, and esteem no act
+	But that of hand: the still and mental parts,
+	That do contrive how many hands shall strike,
+	When fitness calls them on, and know by measure
+	Of their observant toil the enemies' weight,--
+	Why, this hath not a finger's dignity:
+	They call this bed-work, mappery, closet-war;
+	So that the ram that batters down the wall,
+	For the great swing and rudeness of his poise,
+	They place before his hand that made the engine,
+	Or those that with the fineness of their souls
+	By reason guide his execution.
+
+NESTOR	Let this be granted, and Achilles' horse
+	Makes many Thetis' sons.
+
+	[A tucket]
+
+AGAMEMNON	What trumpet? look, Menelaus.
+
+MENELAUS	From Troy.
+
+	[Enter AENEAS]
+
+AGAMEMNON	What would you 'fore our tent?
+
+AENEAS	Is this great Agamemnon's tent, I pray you?
+
+AGAMEMNON	Even this.
+
+AENEAS	May one, that is a herald and a prince,
+	Do a fair message to his kingly ears?
+
+AGAMEMNON	With surety stronger than Achilles' arm
+	'Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one voice
+	Call Agamemnon head and general.
+
+AENEAS	Fair leave and large security. How may
+	A stranger to those most imperial looks
+	Know them from eyes of other mortals?
+
+AGAMEMNON	How!
+
+AENEAS	Ay;
+	I ask, that I might waken reverence,
+	And bid the cheek be ready with a blush
+	Modest as morning when she coldly eyes
+	The youthful Phoebus:
+	Which is that god in office, guiding men?
+	Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon?
+
+AGAMEMNON	This Trojan scorns us; or the men of Troy
+	Are ceremonious courtiers.
+
+AENEAS	Courtiers as free, as debonair, unarm'd,
+	As bending angels; that's their fame in peace:
+	But when they would seem soldiers, they have galls,
+	Good arms, strong joints, true swords; and,
+	Jove's accord,
+	Nothing so full of heart. But peace, AEneas,
+	Peace, Trojan; lay thy finger on thy lips!
+	The worthiness of praise distains his worth,
+	If that the praised himself bring the praise forth:
+	But what the repining enemy commends,
+	That breath fame blows; that praise, sole sure,
+	transcends.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Sir, you of Troy, call you yourself AEneas?
+
+AENEAS	Ay, Greek, that is my name.
+
+AGAMEMNON	What's your affair I pray you?
+
+AENEAS	Sir, pardon; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears.
+
+AGAMEMNON	He hears naught privately that comes from Troy.
+
+AENEAS	Nor I from Troy come not to whisper him:
+	I bring a trumpet to awake his ear,
+	To set his sense on the attentive bent,
+	And then to speak.
+
+AGAMEMNON	                  Speak frankly as the wind;
+	It is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour:
+	That thou shalt know. Trojan, he is awake,
+	He tells thee so himself.
+
+AENEAS	Trumpet, blow loud,
+	Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents;
+	And every Greek of mettle, let him know,
+	What Troy means fairly shall be spoke aloud.
+
+	[Trumpet sounds]
+
+	We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy
+	A prince call'd Hector,--Priam is his father,--
+	Who in this dull and long-continued truce
+	Is rusty grown: he bade me take a trumpet,
+	And to this purpose speak. Kings, princes, lords!
+	If there be one among the fair'st of Greece
+	That holds his honour higher than his ease,
+	That seeks his praise more than he fears his peril,
+	That knows his valour, and knows not his fear,
+	That loves his mistress more than in confession,
+	With truant vows to her own lips he loves,
+	And dare avow her beauty and her worth
+	In other arms than hers,--to him this challenge.
+	Hector, in view of Trojans and of Greeks,
+	Shall make it good, or do his best to do it,
+	He hath a lady, wiser, fairer, truer,
+	Than ever Greek did compass in his arms,
+	And will to-morrow with his trumpet call
+	Midway between your tents and walls of Troy,
+	To rouse a Grecian that is true in love:
+	If any come, Hector shall honour him;
+	If none, he'll say in Troy when he retires,
+	The Grecian dames are sunburnt and not worth
+	The splinter of a lance. Even so much.
+
+AGAMEMNON	This shall be told our lovers, Lord AEneas;
+	If none of them have soul in such a kind,
+	We left them all at home: but we are soldiers;
+	And may that soldier a mere recreant prove,
+	That means not, hath not, or is not in love!
+	If then one is, or hath, or means to be,
+	That one meets Hector; if none else, I am he.
+
+NESTOR	Tell him of Nestor, one that was a man
+	When Hector's grandsire suck'd: he is old now;
+	But if there be not in our Grecian host
+	One noble man that hath one spark of fire,
+	To answer for his love, tell him from me
+	I'll hide my silver beard in a gold beaver
+	And in my vantbrace put this wither'd brawn,
+	And meeting him will tell him that my lady
+	Was fairer than his grandam and as chaste
+	As may be in the world: his youth in flood,
+	I'll prove this truth with my three drops of blood.
+
+AENEAS	Now heavens forbid such scarcity of youth!
+
+ULYSSES	Amen.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Fair Lord AEneas, let me touch your hand;
+	To our pavilion shall I lead you, sir.
+	Achilles shall have word of this intent;
+	So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to tent:
+	Yourself shall feast with us before you go
+	And find the welcome of a noble foe.
+
+	[Exeunt all but ULYSSES and NESTOR]
+
+ULYSSES	Nestor!
+
+NESTOR	What says Ulysses?
+
+ULYSSES	I have a young conception in my brain;
+	Be you my time to bring it to some shape.
+
+NESTOR	What is't?
+
+ULYSSES	This 'tis:
+	Blunt wedges rive hard knots: the seeded pride
+	That hath to this maturity blown up
+	In rank Achilles must or now be cropp'd,
+	Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil,
+	To overbulk us all.
+
+NESTOR	Well, and how?
+
+ULYSSES	This challenge that the gallant Hector sends,
+	However it is spread in general name,
+	Relates in purpose only to Achilles.
+
+NESTOR	The purpose is perspicuous even as substance,
+	Whose grossness little characters sum up:
+	And, in the publication, make no strain,
+	But that Achilles, were his brain as barren
+	As banks of Libya,--though, Apollo knows,
+	'Tis dry enough,--will, with great speed of judgment,
+	Ay, with celerity, find Hector's purpose
+	Pointing on him.
+
+ULYSSES	And wake him to the answer, think you?
+
+NESTOR	Yes, 'tis most meet: whom may you else oppose,
+	That can from Hector bring his honour off,
+	If not Achilles? Though't be a sportful combat,
+	Yet in the trial much opinion dwells;
+	For here the Trojans taste our dear'st repute
+	With their finest palate: and trust to me, Ulysses,
+	Our imputation shall be oddly poised
+	In this wild action; for the success,
+	Although particular, shall give a scantling
+	Of good or bad unto the general;
+	And in such indexes, although small pricks
+	To their subsequent volumes, there is seen
+	The baby figure of the giant mass
+	Of things to come at large. It is supposed
+	He that meets Hector issues from our choice
+	And choice, being mutual act of all our souls,
+	Makes merit her election, and doth boil,
+	As 'twere from us all, a man distill'd
+	Out of our virtues; who miscarrying,
+	What heart receives from hence the conquering part,
+	To steel a strong opinion to themselves?
+	Which entertain'd, limbs are his instruments,
+	In no less working than are swords and bows
+	Directive by the limbs.
+
+ULYSSES	Give pardon to my speech:
+	Therefore 'tis meet Achilles meet not Hector.
+	Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares,
+	And think, perchance, they'll sell; if not,
+	The lustre of the better yet to show,
+	Shall show the better. Do not consent
+	That ever Hector and Achilles meet;
+	For both our honour and our shame in this
+	Are dogg'd with two strange followers.
+
+NESTOR	I see them not with my old eyes: what are they?
+
+ULYSSES	What glory our Achilles shares from Hector,
+	Were he not proud, we all should share with him:
+	But he already is too insolent;
+	And we were better parch in Afric sun
+	Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes,
+	Should he 'scape Hector fair: if he were foil'd,
+	Why then, we did our main opinion crush
+	In taint of our best man. No, make a lottery;
+	And, by device, let blockish Ajax draw
+	The sort to fight with Hector: among ourselves
+	Give him allowance for the better man;
+	For that will physic the great Myrmidon
+	Who broils in loud applause, and make him fall
+	His crest that prouder than blue Iris bends.
+	If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off,
+	We'll dress him up in voices: if he fail,
+	Yet go we under our opinion still
+	That we have better men. But, hit or miss,
+	Our project's life this shape of sense assumes:
+	Ajax employ'd plucks down Achilles' plumes.
+
+NESTOR	Ulysses,
+	Now I begin to relish thy advice;
+	And I will give a taste of it forthwith
+	To Agamemnon: go we to him straight.
+	Two curs shall tame each other: pride alone
+	Must tarre the mastiffs on, as 'twere their bone.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A part of the Grecian camp.
+
+
+	[Enter AJAX and THERSITES]
+
+AJAX	Thersites!
+
+THERSITES	Agamemnon, how if he had boils? full, all over,
+	generally?
+
+AJAX	Thersites!
+
+THERSITES	And those boils did run? say so: did not the
+	general run then? were not that a botchy core?
+
+AJAX	Dog!
+
+THERSITES	Then would come some matter from him; I see none now.
+
+AJAX	Thou bitch-wolf's son, canst thou not hear?
+
+	[Beating him]
+
+	Feel, then.
+
+THERSITES	The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel
+	beef-witted lord!
+
+AJAX	Speak then, thou vinewedst leaven, speak: I will
+	beat thee into handsomeness.
+
+THERSITES	I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness: but,
+	I think, thy horse will sooner con an oration than
+	thou learn a prayer without book. Thou canst strike,
+	canst thou? a red murrain o' thy jade's tricks!
+
+AJAX	Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.
+
+THERSITES	Dost thou think I have no sense, thou strikest me thus?
+
+AJAX	The proclamation!
+
+THERSITES	Thou art proclaimed a fool, I think.
+
+AJAX	Do not, porpentine, do not: my fingers itch.
+
+THERSITES	I would thou didst itch from head to foot and I had
+	the scratching of thee; I would make thee the
+	loathsomest scab in Greece. When thou art forth in
+	the incursions, thou strikest as slow as another.
+
+AJAX	I say, the proclamation!
+
+THERSITES	Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles,
+	and thou art as full of envy at his greatness as
+	Cerberus is at Proserpine's beauty, ay, that thou
+	barkest at him.
+
+AJAX	Mistress Thersites!
+
+THERSITES	Thou shouldest strike him.
+
+AJAX	Cobloaf!
+
+THERSITES	He would pun thee into shivers with his fist, as a
+	sailor breaks a biscuit.
+
+AJAX	[Beating him]  You whoreson cur!
+
+THERSITES	Do, do.
+
+AJAX	Thou stool for a witch!
+
+THERSITES	Ay, do, do; thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no
+	more brain than I have in mine elbows; an assinego
+	may tutor thee: thou scurvy-valiant ass! thou art
+	here but to thrash Trojans; and thou art bought and
+	sold among those of any wit, like a barbarian slave.
+	If thou use to beat me, I will begin at thy heel, and
+	tell what thou art by inches, thou thing of no
+	bowels, thou!
+
+AJAX	You dog!
+
+THERSITES	You scurvy lord!
+
+AJAX	[Beating him]  You cur!
+
+THERSITES	Mars his idiot! do, rudeness; do, camel; do, do.
+
+	[Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS]
+
+ACHILLES	Why, how now, Ajax! wherefore do you thus? How now,
+	Thersites! what's the matter, man?
+
+THERSITES	You see him there, do you?
+
+ACHILLES	Ay; what's the matter?
+
+THERSITES	Nay, look upon him.
+
+ACHILLES	So I do: what's the matter?
+
+THERSITES	Nay, but regard him well.
+
+ACHILLES	'Well!' why, I do so.
+
+THERSITES	But yet you look not well upon him; for whosoever you
+	take him to be, he is Ajax.
+
+ACHILLES	I know that, fool.
+
+THERSITES	Ay, but that fool knows not himself.
+
+AJAX	Therefore I beat thee.
+
+THERSITES	Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters! his
+	evasions have ears thus long. I have bobbed his
+	brain more than he has beat my bones: I will buy
+	nine sparrows for a penny, and his pia mater is not
+	worth the nineth part of a sparrow. This lord,
+	Achilles, Ajax, who wears his wit in his belly and
+	his guts in his head, I'll tell you what I say of
+	him.
+
+ACHILLES	What?
+
+THERSITES	I say, this Ajax--
+
+	[Ajax offers to beat him]
+
+ACHILLES	Nay, good Ajax.
+
+THERSITES	Has not so much wit--
+
+ACHILLES	Nay, I must hold you.
+
+THERSITES	As will stop the eye of Helen's needle, for whom he
+	comes to fight.
+
+ACHILLES	Peace, fool!
+
+THERSITES	I would have peace and quietness, but the fool will
+	not: he there: that he: look you there.
+
+AJAX	O thou damned cur! I shall--
+
+ACHILLES	Will you set your wit to a fool's?
+
+THERSITES	No, I warrant you; for a fools will shame it.
+
+PATROCLUS	Good words, Thersites.
+
+ACHILLES	What's the quarrel?
+
+AJAX	I bade the vile owl go learn me the tenor of the
+	proclamation, and he rails upon me.
+
+THERSITES	I serve thee not.
+
+AJAX	Well, go to, go to.
+
+THERSITES	I serve here voluntarily.
+
+ACHILLES	Your last service was sufferance, 'twas not
+	voluntary: no man is beaten voluntary: Ajax was
+	here the voluntary, and you as under an impress.
+
+THERSITES	E'en so; a great deal of your wit, too, lies in your
+	sinews, or else there be liars. Hector have a great
+	catch, if he knock out either of your brains: a'
+	were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel.
+
+ACHILLES	What, with me too, Thersites?
+
+THERSITES	There's Ulysses and old Nestor, whose wit was mouldy
+	ere your grandsires had nails on their toes, yoke you
+	like draught-oxen and make you plough up the wars.
+
+ACHILLES	What, what?
+
+THERSITES	Yes, good sooth: to, Achilles! to, Ajax! to!
+
+AJAX	I shall cut out your tongue.
+
+THERSITES	'Tis no matter! I shall speak as much as thou
+	afterwards.
+
+PATROCLUS	No more words, Thersites; peace!
+
+THERSITES	I will hold my peace when Achilles' brach bids me, shall I?
+
+ACHILLES	There's for you, Patroclus.
+
+THERSITES	I will see you hanged, like clotpoles, ere I come
+	any more to your tents: I will keep where there is
+	wit stirring and leave the faction of fools.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PATROCLUS	A good riddance.
+
+ACHILLES	Marry, this, sir, is proclaim'd through all our host:
+	That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun,
+	Will with a trumpet 'twixt our tents and Troy
+	To-morrow morning call some knight to arms
+	That hath a stomach; and such a one that dare
+	Maintain--I know not what: 'tis trash. Farewell.
+
+AJAX	Farewell. Who shall answer him?
+
+ACHILLES	I know not: 'tis put to lottery; otherwise
+	He knew his man.
+
+AJAX	O, meaning you. I will go learn more of it.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Troy. A room in Priam's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter PRIAM, HECTOR, TROILUS, PARIS, and HELENUS]
+
+PRIAM	After so many hours, lives, speeches spent,
+	Thus once again says Nestor from the Greeks:
+	'Deliver Helen, and all damage else--
+	As honour, loss of time, travail, expense,
+	Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is consumed
+	In hot digestion of this cormorant war--
+	Shall be struck off.' Hector, what say you to't?
+
+HECTOR	Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I
+	As far as toucheth my particular,
+	Yet, dread Priam,
+	There is no lady of more softer bowels,
+	More spongy to suck in the sense of fear,
+	More ready to cry out 'Who knows what follows?'
+	Than Hector is: the wound of peace is surety,
+	Surety secure; but modest doubt is call'd
+	The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches
+	To the bottom of the worst. Let Helen go:
+	Since the first sword was drawn about this question,
+	Every tithe soul, 'mongst many thousand dismes,
+	Hath been as dear as Helen; I mean, of ours:
+	If we have lost so many tenths of ours,
+	To guard a thing not ours nor worth to us,
+	Had it our name, the value of one ten,
+	What merit's in that reason which denies
+	The yielding of her up?
+
+TROILUS	Fie, fie, my brother!
+	Weigh you the worth and honour of a king
+	So great as our dread father in a scale
+	Of common ounces? will you with counters sum
+	The past proportion of his infinite?
+	And buckle in a waist most fathomless
+	With spans and inches so diminutive
+	As fears and reasons? fie, for godly shame!
+
+HELENUS	No marvel, though you bite so sharp at reasons,
+	You are so empty of them. Should not our father
+	Bear the great sway of his affairs with reasons,
+	Because your speech hath none that tells him so?
+
+TROILUS	You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest;
+	You fur your gloves with reason. Here are
+	your reasons:
+	You know an enemy intends you harm;
+	You know a sword employ'd is perilous,
+	And reason flies the object of all harm:
+	Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds
+	A Grecian and his sword, if he do set
+	The very wings of reason to his heels
+	And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove,
+	Or like a star disorb'd? Nay, if we talk of reason,
+	Let's shut our gates and sleep: manhood and honour
+	Should have hare-hearts, would they but fat
+	their thoughts
+	With this cramm'd reason: reason and respect
+	Make livers pale and lustihood deject.
+
+HECTOR	Brother, she is not worth what she doth cost
+	The holding.
+
+TROILUS	                  What is aught, but as 'tis valued?
+
+HECTOR	But value dwells not in particular will;
+	It holds his estimate and dignity
+	As well wherein 'tis precious of itself
+	As in the prizer: 'tis mad idolatry
+	To make the service greater than the god
+	And the will dotes that is attributive
+	To what infectiously itself affects,
+	Without some image of the affected merit.
+
+TROILUS	I take to-day a wife, and my election
+	Is led on in the conduct of my will;
+	My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears,
+	Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores
+	Of will and judgment: how may I avoid,
+	Although my will distaste what it elected,
+	The wife I chose? there can be no evasion
+	To blench from this and to stand firm by honour:
+	We turn not back the silks upon the merchant,
+	When we have soil'd them, nor the remainder viands
+	We do not throw in unrespective sieve,
+	Because we now are full. It was thought meet
+	Paris should do some vengeance on the Greeks:
+	Your breath of full consent bellied his sails;
+	The seas and winds, old wranglers, took a truce
+	And did him service: he touch'd the ports desired,
+	And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held captive,
+	He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth and freshness
+	Wrinkles Apollo's, and makes stale the morning.
+	Why keep we her? the Grecians keep our aunt:
+	Is she worth keeping? why, she is a pearl,
+	Whose price hath launch'd above a thousand ships,
+	And turn'd crown'd kings to merchants.
+	If you'll avouch 'twas wisdom Paris went--
+	As you must needs, for you all cried 'Go, go,'--
+	If you'll confess he brought home noble prize--
+	As you must needs, for you all clapp'd your hands
+	And cried 'Inestimable!'--why do you now
+	The issue of your proper wisdoms rate,
+	And do a deed that fortune never did,
+	Beggar the estimation which you prized
+	Richer than sea and land? O, theft most base,
+	That we have stol'n what we do fear to keep!
+	But, thieves, unworthy of a thing so stol'n,
+	That in their country did them that disgrace,
+	We fear to warrant in our native place!
+
+CASSANDRA	[Within]  Cry, Trojans, cry!
+
+PRIAM	What noise? what shriek is this?
+
+TROILUS	'Tis our mad sister, I do know her voice.
+
+CASSANDRA	[Within]  Cry, Trojans!
+
+HECTOR	It is Cassandra.
+
+	[Enter CASSANDRA, raving]
+
+CASSANDRA	Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand eyes,
+	And I will fill them with prophetic tears.
+
+HECTOR	Peace, sister, peace!
+
+CASSANDRA	Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled eld,
+	Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry,
+	Add to my clamours! let us pay betimes
+	A moiety of that mass of moan to come.
+	Cry, Trojans, cry! practise your eyes with tears!
+	Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand;
+	Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all.
+	Cry, Trojans, cry! a Helen and a woe:
+	Cry, cry! Troy burns, or else let Helen go.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HECTOR	Now, youthful Troilus, do not these high strains
+	Of divination in our sister work
+	Some touches of remorse? or is your blood
+	So madly hot that no discourse of reason,
+	Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause,
+	Can qualify the same?
+
+TROILUS	Why, brother Hector,
+	We may not think the justness of each act
+	Such and no other than event doth form it,
+	Nor once deject the courage of our minds,
+	Because Cassandra's mad: her brain-sick raptures
+	Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel
+	Which hath our several honours all engaged
+	To make it gracious. For my private part,
+	I am no more touch'd than all Priam's sons:
+	And Jove forbid there should be done amongst us
+	Such things as might offend the weakest spleen
+	To fight for and maintain!
+
+PARIS	Else might the world convince of levity
+	As well my undertakings as your counsels:
+	But I attest the gods, your full consent
+	Gave wings to my propension and cut off
+	All fears attending on so dire a project.
+	For what, alas, can these my single arms?
+	What Propugnation is in one man's valour,
+	To stand the push and enmity of those
+	This quarrel would excite? Yet, I protest,
+	Were I alone to pass the difficulties
+	And had as ample power as I have will,
+	Paris should ne'er retract what he hath done,
+	Nor faint in the pursuit.
+
+PRIAM	Paris, you speak
+	Like one besotted on your sweet delights:
+	You have the honey still, but these the gall;
+	So to be valiant is no praise at all.
+
+PARIS	Sir, I propose not merely to myself
+	The pleasures such a beauty brings with it;
+	But I would have the soil of her fair rape
+	Wiped off, in honourable keeping her.
+	What treason were it to the ransack'd queen,
+	Disgrace to your great worths and shame to me,
+	Now to deliver her possession up
+	On terms of base compulsion! Can it be
+	That so degenerate a strain as this
+	Should once set footing in your generous bosoms?
+	There's not the meanest spirit on our party
+	Without a heart to dare or sword to draw
+	When Helen is defended, nor none so noble
+	Whose life were ill bestow'd or death unfamed
+	Where Helen is the subject; then, I say,
+	Well may we fight for her whom, we know well,
+	The world's large spaces cannot parallel.
+
+HECTOR	Paris and Troilus, you have both said well,
+	And on the cause and question now in hand
+	Have glozed, but superficially: not much
+	Unlike young men, whom Aristotle thought
+	Unfit to hear moral philosophy:
+	The reasons you allege do more conduce
+	To the hot passion of distemper'd blood
+	Than to make up a free determination
+	'Twixt right and wrong, for pleasure and revenge
+	Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice
+	Of any true decision. Nature craves
+	All dues be render'd to their owners: now,
+	What nearer debt in all humanity
+	Than wife is to the husband? If this law
+	Of nature be corrupted through affection,
+	And that great minds, of partial indulgence
+	To their benumbed wills, resist the same,
+	There is a law in each well-order'd nation
+	To curb those raging appetites that are
+	Most disobedient and refractory.
+	If Helen then be wife to Sparta's king,
+	As it is known she is, these moral laws
+	Of nature and of nations speak aloud
+	To have her back return'd: thus to persist
+	In doing wrong extenuates not wrong,
+	But makes it much more heavy. Hector's opinion
+	Is this in way of truth; yet ne'ertheless,
+	My spritely brethren, I propend to you
+	In resolution to keep Helen still,
+	For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependance
+	Upon our joint and several dignities.
+
+TROILUS	Why, there you touch'd the life of our design:
+	Were it not glory that we more affected
+	Than the performance of our heaving spleens,
+	I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood
+	Spent more in her defence. But, worthy Hector,
+	She is a theme of honour and renown,
+	A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds,
+	Whose present courage may beat down our foes,
+	And fame in time to come canonize us;
+	For, I presume, brave Hector would not lose
+	So rich advantage of a promised glory
+	As smiles upon the forehead of this action
+	For the wide world's revenue.
+
+HECTOR	I am yours,
+	You valiant offspring of great Priamus.
+	I have a roisting challenge sent amongst
+	The dun and factious nobles of the Greeks
+	Will strike amazement to their drowsy spirits:
+	I was advertised their great general slept,
+	Whilst emulation in the army crept:
+	This, I presume, will wake him.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent.
+
+
+	[Enter THERSITES, solus]
+
+THERSITES	How now, Thersites! what lost in the labyrinth of
+	thy fury! Shall the elephant Ajax carry it thus? He
+	beats me, and I rail at him: O, worthy satisfaction!
+	would it were otherwise; that I could beat him,
+	whilst he railed at me. 'Sfoot, I'll learn to
+	conjure and raise devils, but I'll see some issue of
+	my spiteful execrations. Then there's Achilles, a
+	rare enginer! If Troy be not taken till these two
+	undermine it, the walls will stand till they fall of
+	themselves. O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus,
+	forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods and,
+	Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy
+	caduceus, if ye take not that little, little less
+	than little wit from them that they have! which
+	short-armed ignorance itself knows is so abundant
+	scarce, it will not in circumvention deliver a fly
+	from a spider, without drawing their massy irons and
+	cutting the web. After this, the vengeance on the
+	whole camp! or rather, the bone-ache! for that,
+	methinks, is the curse dependent on those that war
+	for a placket. I have said my prayers and devil Envy
+	say Amen. What ho! my Lord Achilles!
+
+	[Enter PATROCLUS]
+
+PATROCLUS	Who's there? Thersites! Good Thersites, come in and rail.
+
+THERSITES	If I could have remembered a gilt counterfeit, thou
+	wouldst not have slipped out of my contemplation: but
+	it is no matter; thyself upon thyself! The common
+	curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in
+	great revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and
+	discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy
+	direction till thy death! then if she that lays thee
+	out says thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn and
+	sworn upon't she never shrouded any but lazars.
+	Amen. Where's Achilles?
+
+PATROCLUS	What, art thou devout? wast thou in prayer?
+
+THERSITES	Ay: the heavens hear me!
+
+	[Enter ACHILLES]
+
+ACHILLES	Who's there?
+
+PATROCLUS	Thersites, my lord.
+
+ACHILLES	Where, where? Art thou come? why, my cheese, my
+	digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to
+	my table so many meals? Come, what's Agamemnon?
+
+THERSITES	Thy commander, Achilles. Then tell me, Patroclus,
+	what's Achilles?
+
+PATROCLUS	Thy lord, Thersites: then tell me, I pray thee,
+	what's thyself?
+
+THERSITES	Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell me, Patroclus,
+	what art thou?
+
+PATROCLUS	Thou mayst tell that knowest.
+
+ACHILLES	O, tell, tell.
+
+THERSITES	I'll decline the whole question. Agamemnon commands
+	Achilles; Achilles is my lord; I am Patroclus'
+	knower, and Patroclus is a fool.
+
+PATROCLUS	You rascal!
+
+THERSITES	Peace, fool! I have not done.
+
+ACHILLES	He is a privileged man. Proceed, Thersites.
+
+THERSITES	Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is a fool; Thersites
+	is a fool, and, as aforesaid, Patroclus is a fool.
+
+ACHILLES	Derive this; come.
+
+THERSITES	Agamemnon is a fool to offer to command Achilles;
+	Achilles is a fool to be commanded of Agamemnon;
+	Thersites is a fool to serve such a fool, and
+	Patroclus is a fool positive.
+
+PATROCLUS	Why am I a fool?
+
+THERSITES	Make that demand of the prover. It suffices me thou
+	art. Look you, who comes here?
+
+ACHILLES	Patroclus, I'll speak with nobody.
+	Come in with me, Thersites.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+THERSITES	Here is such patchery, such juggling and such
+	knavery! all the argument is a cuckold and a
+	whore; a good quarrel to draw emulous factions
+	and bleed to death upon. Now, the dry serpigo on
+	the subject! and war and lechery confound all!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, and AJAX]
+
+AGAMEMNON	Where is Achilles?
+
+PATROCLUS	Within his tent; but ill disposed, my lord.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Let it be known to him that we are here.
+	He shent our messengers; and we lay by
+	Our appertainments, visiting of him:
+	Let him be told so; lest perchance he think
+	We dare not move the question of our place,
+	Or know not what we are.
+
+PATROCLUS	I shall say so to him.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ULYSSES	We saw him at the opening of his tent:
+	He is not sick.
+
+AJAX	Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call it
+	melancholy, if you will favour the man; but, by my
+	head, 'tis pride: but why, why? let him show us the
+	cause. A word, my lord.
+
+	[Takes AGAMEMNON aside]
+
+NESTOR	What moves Ajax thus to bay at him?
+
+ULYSSES	Achilles hath inveigled his fool from him.
+
+NESTOR	Who, Thersites?
+
+ULYSSES	He.
+
+NESTOR	Then will Ajax lack matter, if he have lost his argument.
+
+ULYSSES	No, you see, he is his argument that has his
+	argument, Achilles.
+
+NESTOR	All the better; their fraction is more our wish than
+	their faction: but it was a strong composure a fool
+	could disunite.
+
+ULYSSES	The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily
+	untie. Here comes Patroclus.
+
+	[Re-enter PATROCLUS]
+
+NESTOR	No Achilles with him.
+
+ULYSSES	The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy:
+	his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
+
+PATROCLUS	Achilles bids me say, he is much sorry,
+	If any thing more than your sport and pleasure
+	Did move your greatness and this noble state
+	To call upon him; he hopes it is no other
+	But for your health and your digestion sake,
+	And after-dinner's breath.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Hear you, Patroclus:
+	We are too well acquainted with these answers:
+	But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,
+	Cannot outfly our apprehensions.
+	Much attribute he hath, and much the reason
+	Why we ascribe it to him; yet all his virtues,
+	Not virtuously on his own part beheld,
+	Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss,
+	Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish,
+	Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him,
+	We come to speak with him; and you shall not sin,
+	If you do say we think him over-proud
+	And under-honest, in self-assumption greater
+	Than in the note of judgment; and worthier
+	than himself
+	Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on,
+	Disguise the holy strength of their command,
+	And underwrite in an observing kind
+	His humorous predominance; yea, watch
+	His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if
+	The passage and whole carriage of this action
+	Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and add,
+	That if he overhold his price so much,
+	We'll none of him; but let him, like an engine
+	Not portable, lie under this report:
+	'Bring action hither, this cannot go to war:
+	A stirring dwarf we do allowance give
+	Before a sleeping giant.' Tell him so.
+
+PATROCLUS	I shall; and bring his answer presently.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+AGAMEMNON	In second voice we'll not be satisfied;
+	We come to speak with him. Ulysses, enter you.
+
+	[Exit ULYSSES]
+
+AJAX	What is he more than another?
+
+AGAMEMNON	No more than what he thinks he is.
+
+AJAX	Is he so much? Do you not think he thinks himself a
+	better man than I am?
+
+AGAMEMNON	No question.
+
+AJAX	Will you subscribe his thought, and say he is?
+
+AGAMEMNON	No, noble Ajax; you are as strong, as valiant, as
+	wise, no less noble, much more gentle, and altogether
+	more tractable.
+
+AJAX	Why should a man be proud? How doth pride grow? I
+	know not what pride is.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, and your virtues the
+	fairer. He that is proud eats up himself: pride is
+	his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle;
+	and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours
+	the deed in the praise.
+
+AJAX	I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.
+
+NESTOR	Yet he loves himself: is't not strange?
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	[Re-enter ULYSSES]
+
+ULYSSES	Achilles will not to the field to-morrow.
+
+AGAMEMNON	What's his excuse?
+
+ULYSSES	                  He doth rely on none,
+	But carries on the stream of his dispose
+	Without observance or respect of any,
+	In will peculiar and in self-admission.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Why will he not upon our fair request
+	Untent his person and share the air with us?
+
+ULYSSES	Things small as nothing, for request's sake only,
+	He makes important: possess'd he is with greatness,
+	And speaks not to himself but with a pride
+	That quarrels at self-breath: imagined worth
+	Holds in his blood such swoln and hot discourse
+	That 'twixt his mental and his active parts
+	Kingdom'd Achilles in commotion rages
+	And batters down himself: what should I say?
+	He is so plaguy proud that the death-tokens of it
+	Cry 'No recovery.'
+
+AGAMEMNON	                  Let Ajax go to him.
+	Dear lord, go you and greet him in his tent:
+	'Tis said he holds you well, and will be led
+	At your request a little from himself.
+
+ULYSSES	O Agamemnon, let it not be so!
+	We'll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes
+	When they go from Achilles: shall the proud lord
+	That bastes his arrogance with his own seam
+	And never suffers matter of the world
+	Enter his thoughts, save such as do revolve
+	And ruminate himself, shall he be worshipp'd
+	Of that we hold an idol more than he?
+	No, this thrice worthy and right valiant lord
+	Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquired;
+	Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit,
+	As amply titled as Achilles is,
+	By going to Achilles:
+	That were to enlard his fat already pride
+	And add more coals to Cancer when he burns
+	With entertaining great Hyperion.
+	This lord go to him! Jupiter forbid,
+	And say in thunder 'Achilles go to him.'
+
+NESTOR	[Aside to DIOMEDES]  O, this is well; he rubs the
+	vein of him.
+
+DIOMEDES	[Aside to NESTOR]  And how his silence drinks up
+	this applause!
+
+AJAX	If I go to him, with my armed fist I'll pash him o'er the face.
+
+AGAMEMNON	O, no, you shall not go.
+
+AJAX	An a' be proud with me, I'll pheeze his pride:
+	Let me go to him.
+
+ULYSSES	Not for the worth that hangs upon our quarrel.
+
+AJAX	A paltry, insolent fellow!
+
+NESTOR	How he describes himself!
+
+AJAX	Can he not be sociable?
+
+ULYSSES	The raven chides blackness.
+
+AJAX	I'll let his humours blood.
+
+AGAMEMNON	He will be the physician that should be the patient.
+
+AJAX	An all men were o' my mind,--
+
+ULYSSES	Wit would be out of fashion.
+
+AJAX	A' should not bear it so, a' should eat swords first:
+	shall pride carry it?
+
+NESTOR	An 'twould, you'ld carry half.
+
+ULYSSES	A' would have ten shares.
+
+AJAX	I will knead him; I'll make him supple.
+
+NESTOR	He's not yet through warm: force him with praises:
+	pour in, pour in; his ambition is dry.
+
+ULYSSES	[To AGAMEMNON]  My lord, you feed too much on this dislike.
+
+NESTOR	Our noble general, do not do so.
+
+DIOMEDES	You must prepare to fight without Achilles.
+
+ULYSSES	Why, 'tis this naming of him does him harm.
+	Here is a man--but 'tis before his face;
+	I will be silent.
+
+NESTOR	                  Wherefore should you so?
+	He is not emulous, as Achilles is.
+
+ULYSSES	Know the whole world, he is as valiant.
+
+AJAX	A whoreson dog, that shall pelter thus with us!
+	Would he were a Trojan!
+
+NESTOR	What a vice were it in Ajax now,--
+
+ULYSSES	If he were proud,--
+
+DIOMEDES	Or covetous of praise,--
+
+ULYSSES	Ay, or surly borne,--
+
+DIOMEDES	Or strange, or self-affected!
+
+ULYSSES	Thank the heavens, lord, thou art of sweet composure;
+	Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee suck:
+	Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature
+	Thrice famed, beyond all erudition:
+	But he that disciplined thy arms to fight,
+	Let Mars divide eternity in twain,
+	And give him half: and, for thy vigour,
+	Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield
+	To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy wisdom,
+	Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines
+	Thy spacious and dilated parts: here's Nestor;
+	Instructed by the antiquary times,
+	He must, he is, he cannot but be wise:
+	Put pardon, father Nestor, were your days
+	As green as Ajax' and your brain so temper'd,
+	You should not have the eminence of him,
+	But be as Ajax.
+
+AJAX	                  Shall I call you father?
+
+NESTOR	Ay, my good son.
+
+DIOMEDES	                  Be ruled by him, Lord Ajax.
+
+ULYSSES	There is no tarrying here; the hart Achilles
+	Keeps thicket. Please it our great general
+	To call together all his state of war;
+	Fresh kings are come to Troy: to-morrow
+	We must with all our main of power stand fast:
+	And here's a lord,--come knights from east to west,
+	And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the best.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Go we to council. Let Achilles sleep:
+	Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Troy. Priam's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter a Servant and PANDARUS]
+
+PANDARUS	Friend, you! pray you, a word: do not you follow
+	the young Lord Paris?
+
+Servant	Ay, sir, when he goes before me.
+
+PANDARUS	You depend upon him, I mean?
+
+Servant	Sir, I do depend upon the lord.
+
+PANDARUS	You depend upon a noble gentleman; I must needs
+	praise him.
+
+Servant	The lord be praised!
+
+PANDARUS	You know me, do you not?
+
+Servant	Faith, sir, superficially.
+
+PANDARUS	Friend, know me better; I am the Lord Pandarus.
+
+Servant	I hope I shall know your honour better.
+
+PANDARUS	I do desire it.
+
+Servant	You are in the state of grace.
+
+PANDARUS	Grace! not so, friend: honour and lordship are my titles.
+
+	[Music within]
+
+	What music is this?
+
+Servant	I do but partly know, sir: it is music in parts.
+
+PANDARUS	Know you the musicians?
+
+Servant	Wholly, sir.
+
+PANDARUS	Who play they to?
+
+Servant	To the hearers, sir.
+
+PANDARUS	At whose pleasure, friend
+
+Servant	At mine, sir, and theirs that love music.
+
+PANDARUS	Command, I mean, friend.
+
+Servant	Who shall I command, sir?
+
+PANDARUS	Friend, we understand not one another: I am too
+	courtly and thou art too cunning. At whose request
+	do these men play?
+
+Servant	That's to 't indeed, sir: marry, sir, at the request
+	of Paris my lord, who's there in person; with him,
+	the mortal Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love's
+	invisible soul,--
+
+PANDARUS	Who, my cousin Cressida?
+
+Servant	No, sir, Helen: could you not find out that by her
+	attributes?
+
+PANDARUS	It should seem, fellow, that thou hast not seen the
+	Lady Cressida. I come to speak with Paris from the
+	Prince Troilus: I will make a complimental assault
+	upon him, for my business seethes.
+
+Servant	Sodden business! there's a stewed phrase indeed!
+
+	[Enter PARIS and HELEN, attended]
+
+PANDARUS	Fair be to you, my lord, and to all this fair
+	company! fair desires, in all fair measure,
+	fairly guide them! especially to you, fair queen!
+	fair thoughts be your fair pillow!
+
+HELEN	Dear lord, you are full of fair words.
+
+PANDARUS	You speak your fair pleasure, sweet queen. Fair
+	prince, here is good broken music.
+
+PARIS	You have broke it, cousin: and, by my life, you
+	shall make it whole again; you shall piece it out
+	with a piece of your performance. Nell, he is full
+	of harmony.
+
+PANDARUS	Truly, lady, no.
+
+HELEN	O, sir,--
+
+PANDARUS	Rude, in sooth; in good sooth, very rude.
+
+PARIS	Well said, my lord! well, you say so in fits.
+
+PANDARUS	I have business to my lord, dear queen. My lord,
+	will you vouchsafe me a word?
+
+HELEN	Nay, this shall not hedge us out: we'll hear you
+	sing, certainly.
+
+PANDARUS	Well, sweet queen. you are pleasant with me. But,
+	marry, thus, my lord: my dear lord and most esteemed
+	friend, your brother Troilus,--
+
+HELEN	My Lord Pandarus; honey-sweet lord,--
+
+PANDARUS	Go to, sweet queen, to go:--commends himself most
+	affectionately to you,--
+
+HELEN	You shall not bob us out of our melody: if you do,
+	our melancholy upon your head!
+
+PANDARUS	Sweet queen, sweet queen! that's a sweet queen, i' faith.
+
+HELEN	And to make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence.
+
+PANDARUS	Nay, that shall not serve your turn; that shall not,
+	in truth, la. Nay, I care not for such words; no,
+	no. And, my lord, he desires you, that if the king
+	call for him at supper, you will make his excuse.
+
+HELEN	My Lord Pandarus,--
+
+PANDARUS	What says my sweet queen, my very very sweet queen?
+
+PARIS	What exploit's in hand? where sups he to-night?
+
+HELEN	Nay, but, my lord,--
+
+PANDARUS	What says my sweet queen? My cousin will fall out
+	with you. You must not know where he sups.
+
+PARIS	I'll lay my life, with my disposer Cressida.
+
+PANDARUS	No, no, no such matter; you are wide: come, your
+	disposer is sick.
+
+PARIS	Well, I'll make excuse.
+
+PANDARUS	Ay, good my lord. Why should you say Cressida? no,
+	your poor disposer's sick.
+
+PARIS	I spy.
+
+PANDARUS	You spy! what do you spy? Come, give me an
+	instrument. Now, sweet queen.
+
+HELEN	Why, this is kindly done.
+
+PANDARUS	My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have,
+	sweet queen.
+
+HELEN	She shall have it, my lord, if it be not my lord Paris.
+
+PANDARUS	He! no, she'll none of him; they two are twain.
+
+HELEN	Falling in, after falling out, may make them three.
+
+PANDARUS	Come, come, I'll hear no more of this; I'll sing
+	you a song now.
+
+HELEN	Ay, ay, prithee now. By my troth, sweet lord, thou
+	hast a fine forehead.
+
+PANDARUS	Ay, you may, you may.
+
+HELEN	Let thy song be love: this love will undo us all.
+	O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!
+
+PANDARUS	Love! ay, that it shall, i' faith.
+
+PARIS	Ay, good now, love, love, nothing but love.
+
+PANDARUS	In good troth, it begins so.
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	Love, love, nothing but love, still more!
+	For, O, love's bow
+	Shoots buck and doe:
+	The shaft confounds,
+	Not that it wounds,
+	But tickles still the sore.
+	These lovers cry Oh! oh! they die!
+	Yet that which seems the wound to kill,
+	Doth turn oh! oh! to ha! ha! he!
+	So dying love lives still:
+	Oh! oh! a while, but ha! ha! ha!
+	Oh! oh! groans out for ha! ha! ha!
+	Heigh-ho!
+
+HELEN	In love, i' faith, to the very tip of the nose.
+
+PARIS	He eats nothing but doves, love, and that breeds hot
+	blood, and hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot
+	thoughts beget hot deeds, and hot deeds is love.
+
+PANDARUS	Is this the generation of love? hot blood, hot
+	thoughts, and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers:
+	is love a generation of vipers? Sweet lord, who's
+	a-field to-day?
+
+PARIS	Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Antenor, and all the
+	gallantry of Troy: I  would fain have armed to-day,
+	but my Nell would not have it so. How chance my
+	brother Troilus went not?
+
+HELEN	He hangs the lip at something: you know all, Lord Pandarus.
+
+PANDARUS	Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long to hear how they
+	sped to-day. You'll remember your brother's excuse?
+
+PARIS	To a hair.
+
+PANDARUS	Farewell, sweet queen.
+
+HELEN	Commend me to your niece.
+
+PANDARUS	I will, sweet queen.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[A retreat sounded]
+
+PARIS	They're come from field: let us to Priam's hall,
+	To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must woo you
+	To help unarm our Hector: his stubborn buckles,
+	With these your white enchanting fingers touch'd,
+	Shall more obey than to the edge of steel
+	Or force of Greekish sinews; you shall do more
+	Than all the island kings,--disarm great Hector.
+
+HELEN	'Twill make us proud to be his servant, Paris;
+	Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty
+	Gives us more palm in beauty than we have,
+	Yea, overshines ourself.
+
+PARIS	Sweet, above thought I love thee.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. Pandarus' orchard.
+
+
+	[Enter PANDARUS and Troilus's Boy, meeting]
+
+PANDARUS	How now! where's thy master? at my cousin
+	Cressida's?
+
+Boy	No, sir; he stays for you to conduct him thither.
+
+PANDARUS	O, here he comes.
+
+	[Enter TROILUS]
+
+	How now, how now!
+
+TROILUS	Sirrah, walk off.
+
+	[Exit Boy]
+
+PANDARUS	Have you seen my cousin?
+
+TROILUS	No, Pandarus: I stalk about her door,
+	Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks
+	Staying for waftage. O, be thou my Charon,
+	And give me swift transportance to those fields
+	Where I may wallow in the lily-beds
+	Proposed for the deserver! O gentle Pandarus,
+	From Cupid's shoulder pluck his painted wings
+	And fly with me to Cressid!
+
+PANDARUS	Walk here i' the orchard, I'll bring her straight.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+TROILUS	I am giddy; expectation whirls me round.
+	The imaginary relish is so sweet
+	That it enchants my sense: what will it be,
+	When that the watery palate tastes indeed
+	Love's thrice repured nectar? death, I fear me,
+	Swooning destruction, or some joy too fine,
+	Too subtle-potent, tuned too sharp in sweetness,
+	For the capacity of my ruder powers:
+	I fear it much; and I do fear besides,
+	That I shall lose distinction in my joys;
+	As doth a battle, when they charge on heaps
+	The enemy flying.
+
+	[Re-enter PANDARUS]
+
+PANDARUS	She's making her ready, she'll come straight: you
+	must be witty now. She does so blush, and fetches
+	her wind so short, as if she were frayed with a
+	sprite: I'll fetch her. It is the prettiest
+	villain: she fetches her breath as short as a
+	new-ta'en sparrow.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+TROILUS	Even such a passion doth embrace my bosom:
+	My heart beats thicker than a feverous pulse;
+	And all my powers do their bestowing lose,
+	Like vassalage at unawares encountering
+	The eye of majesty.
+
+	[Re-enter PANDARUS with CRESSIDA]
+
+PANDARUS	Come, come, what need you blush? shame's a baby.
+	Here she is now: swear the oaths now to her that
+	you have sworn to me. What, are you gone again?
+	you must be watched ere you be made tame, must you?
+	Come your ways, come your ways; an you draw backward,
+	we'll put you i' the fills. Why do you not speak to
+	her? Come, draw this curtain, and let's see your
+	picture. Alas the day, how loath you are to offend
+	daylight! an 'twere dark, you'ld close sooner.
+	So, so; rub on, and kiss the mistress. How now!
+	a kiss in fee-farm! build there, carpenter; the air
+	is sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts out ere
+	I part you. The falcon as the tercel, for all the
+	ducks i' the river: go to, go to.
+
+TROILUS	You have bereft me of all words, lady.
+
+PANDARUS	Words pay no debts, give her deeds: but she'll
+	bereave you o' the deeds too, if she call your
+	activity in question. What, billing again? Here's
+	'In witness whereof the parties interchangeably'--
+	Come in, come in: I'll go get a fire.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CRESSIDA	Will you walk in, my lord?
+
+TROILUS	O Cressida, how often have I wished me thus!
+
+CRESSIDA	Wished, my lord! The gods grant,--O my lord!
+
+TROILUS	What should they grant? what makes this pretty
+	abruption? What too curious dreg espies my sweet
+	lady in the fountain of our love?
+
+CRESSIDA	More dregs than water, if my fears have eyes.
+
+TROILUS	Fears make devils of cherubims; they never see truly.
+
+CRESSIDA	Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer
+	footing than blind reason stumbling without fear: to
+	fear the worst oft cures the worse.
+
+TROILUS	O, let my lady apprehend no fear: in all Cupid's
+	pageant there is presented no monster.
+
+CRESSIDA	Nor nothing monstrous neither?
+
+TROILUS	Nothing, but our undertakings; when we vow to weep
+	seas, live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers; thinking
+	it harder for our mistress to devise imposition
+	enough than for us to undergo any difficulty imposed.
+	This is the monstruosity in love, lady, that the will
+	is infinite and the execution confined, that the
+	desire is boundless and the act a slave to limit.
+
+CRESSIDA	They say all lovers swear more performance than they
+	are able and yet reserve an ability that they never
+	perform, vowing more than the perfection of ten and
+	discharging less than the tenth part of one. They
+	that have the voice of lions and the act of hares,
+	are they not monsters?
+
+TROILUS	Are there such? such are not we: praise us as we
+	are tasted, allow us as we prove; our head shall go
+	bare till merit crown it: no perfection in reversion
+	shall have a praise in present: we will not name
+	desert before his birth, and, being born, his addition
+	shall be humble. Few words to fair faith: Troilus
+	shall be such to Cressid as what envy can say worst
+	shall be a mock for his truth, and what truth can
+	speak truest not truer than Troilus.
+
+CRESSIDA	Will you walk in, my lord?
+
+	[Re-enter PANDARUS]
+
+PANDARUS	What, blushing still? have you not done talking yet?
+
+CRESSIDA	Well, uncle, what folly I commit, I dedicate to you.
+
+PANDARUS	I thank you for that: if my lord get a boy of you,
+	you'll give him me. Be true to my lord: if he
+	flinch, chide me for it.
+
+TROILUS	You know now your hostages; your uncle's word and my
+	firm faith.
+
+PANDARUS	Nay, I'll give my word for her too: our kindred,
+	though they be long ere they are wooed, they are
+	constant being won: they are burs, I can tell you;
+	they'll stick where they are thrown.
+
+CRESSIDA	Boldness comes to me now, and brings me heart.
+	Prince Troilus, I have loved you night and day
+	For many weary months.
+
+TROILUS	Why was my Cressid then so hard to win?
+
+CRESSIDA	Hard to seem won: but I was won, my lord,
+	With the first glance that ever--pardon me--
+	If I confess much, you will play the tyrant.
+	I love you now; but not, till now, so much
+	But I might master it: in faith, I lie;
+	My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown
+	Too headstrong for their mother. See, we fools!
+	Why have I blabb'd? who shall be true to us,
+	When we are so unsecret to ourselves?
+	But, though I loved you well, I woo'd you not;
+	And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man,
+	Or that we women had men's privilege
+	Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue,
+	For in this rapture I shall surely speak
+	The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence,
+	Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws
+	My very soul of counsel! stop my mouth.
+
+TROILUS	And shall, albeit sweet music issues thence.
+
+PANDARUS	Pretty, i' faith.
+
+CRESSIDA	My lord, I do beseech you, pardon me;
+	'Twas not my purpose, thus to beg a kiss:
+	I am ashamed. O heavens! what have I done?
+	For this time will I take my leave, my lord.
+
+TROILUS	Your leave, sweet Cressid!
+
+PANDARUS	Leave! an you take leave till to-morrow morning,--
+
+CRESSIDA	Pray you, content you.
+
+TROILUS	What offends you, lady?
+
+CRESSIDA	Sir, mine own company.
+
+TROILUS	You cannot shun Yourself.
+
+CRESSIDA	        Let me go and try:
+	I have a kind of self resides with you;
+	But an unkind self, that itself will leave,
+	To be another's fool. I would be gone:
+	Where is my wit? I know not what I speak.
+
+TROILUS	Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely.
+
+CRESSIDA	Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love;
+	And fell so roundly to a large confession,
+	To angle for your thoughts: but you are wise,
+	Or else you love not, for to be wise and love
+	Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods above.
+
+TROILUS	O that I thought it could be in a woman--
+	As, if it can, I will presume in you--
+	To feed for aye her ramp and flames of love;
+	To keep her constancy in plight and youth,
+	Outliving beauty's outward, with a mind
+	That doth renew swifter than blood decays!
+	Or that persuasion could but thus convince me,
+	That my integrity and truth to you
+	Might be affronted with the match and weight
+	Of such a winnow'd purity in love;
+	How were I then uplifted! but, alas!
+	I am as true as truth's simplicity
+	And simpler than the infancy of truth.
+
+CRESSIDA	In that I'll war with you.
+
+TROILUS	O virtuous fight,
+	When right with right wars who shall be most right!
+	True swains in love shall in the world to come
+	Approve their truths by Troilus: when their rhymes,
+	Full of protest, of oath and big compare,
+	Want similes, truth tired with iteration,
+	As true as steel, as plantage to the moon,
+	As sun to day, as turtle to her mate,
+	As iron to adamant, as earth to the centre,
+	Yet, after all comparisons of truth,
+	As truth's authentic author to be cited,
+	'As true as Troilus' shall crown up the verse,
+	And sanctify the numbers.
+
+CRESSIDA	Prophet may you be!
+	If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth,
+	When time is old and hath forgot itself,
+	When waterdrops have worn the stones of Troy,
+	And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up,
+	And mighty states characterless are grated
+	To dusty nothing, yet let memory,
+	From false to false, among false maids in love,
+	Upbraid my falsehood! when they've said 'as false
+	As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth,
+	As fox to lamb, as wolf to heifer's calf,
+	Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son,'
+	'Yea,' let them say, to stick the heart of falsehood,
+	'As false as Cressid.'
+
+PANDARUS	Go to, a bargain made: seal it, seal it; I'll be the
+	witness. Here I hold your hand, here my cousin's.
+	If ever you prove false one to another, since I have
+	taken such pains to bring you together, let all
+	pitiful goers-between be called to the world's end
+	after my name; call them all Pandars; let all
+	constant men be Troiluses, all false women Cressids,
+	and all brokers-between Pandars! say, amen.
+
+TROILUS	Amen.
+
+CRESSIDA	Amen.
+
+PANDARUS	Amen. Whereupon I will show you a chamber with a
+	bed; which bed, because it shall not speak of your
+	pretty encounters, press it to death: away!
+	And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens here
+	Bed, chamber, Pandar to provide this gear!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent.
+
+
+	[Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, DIOMEDES, NESTOR, AJAX,
+	MENELAUS, and CALCHAS]
+
+CALCHAS	Now, princes, for the service I have done you,
+	The advantage of the time prompts me aloud
+	To call for recompense. Appear it to your mind
+	That, through the sight I bear in things to love,
+	I have abandon'd Troy, left my possession,
+	Incurr'd a traitor's name; exposed myself,
+	From certain and possess'd conveniences,
+	To doubtful fortunes; sequestering from me all
+	That time, acquaintance, custom and condition
+	Made tame and most familiar to my nature,
+	And here, to do you service, am become
+	As new into the world, strange, unacquainted:
+	I do beseech you, as in way of taste,
+	To give me now a little benefit,
+	Out of those many register'd in promise,
+	Which, you say, live to come in my behalf.
+
+AGAMEMNON	What wouldst thou of us, Trojan? make demand.
+
+CALCHAS	You have a Trojan prisoner, call'd Antenor,
+	Yesterday took: Troy holds him very dear.
+	Oft have you--often have you thanks therefore--
+	Desired my Cressid in right great exchange,
+	Whom Troy hath still denied: but this Antenor,
+	I know, is such a wrest in their affairs
+	That their negotiations all must slack,
+	Wanting his manage; and they will almost
+	Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam,
+	In change of him: let him be sent, great princes,
+	And he shall buy my daughter; and her presence
+	Shall quite strike off all service I have done,
+	In most accepted pain.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Let Diomedes bear him,
+	And bring us Cressid hither: Calchas shall have
+	What he requests of us. Good Diomed,
+	Furnish you fairly for this interchange:
+	Withal bring word if Hector will to-morrow
+	Be answer'd in his challenge: Ajax is ready.
+
+DIOMEDES	This shall I undertake; and 'tis a burden
+	Which I am proud to bear.
+
+	[Exeunt DIOMEDES and CALCHAS]
+
+	[Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS, before their tent]
+
+ULYSSES	Achilles stands i' the entrance of his tent:
+	Please it our general to pass strangely by him,
+	As if he were forgot; and, princes all,
+	Lay negligent and loose regard upon him:
+	I will come last. 'Tis like he'll question me
+	Why such unplausive eyes are bent on him:
+	If so, I have derision medicinable,
+	To use between your strangeness and his pride,
+	Which his own will shall have desire to drink:
+	It may be good: pride hath no other glass
+	To show itself but pride, for supple knees
+	Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees.
+
+AGAMEMNON	We'll execute your purpose, and put on
+	A form of strangeness as we pass along:
+	So do each lord, and either greet him not,
+	Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him more
+	Than if not look'd on. I will lead the way.
+
+ACHILLES	What, comes the general to speak with me?
+	You know my mind, I'll fight no more 'gainst Troy.
+
+AGAMEMNON	What says Achilles? would he aught with us?
+
+NESTOR	Would you, my lord, aught with the general?
+
+ACHILLES	No.
+
+NESTOR	Nothing, my lord.
+
+AGAMEMNON	The better.
+
+	[Exeunt AGAMEMNON and NESTOR]
+
+ACHILLES	Good day, good day.
+
+MENELAUS	How do you? how do you?
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ACHILLES	What, does the cuckold scorn me?
+
+AJAX	How now, Patroclus!
+
+ACHILLES	Good morrow, Ajax.
+
+AJAX	Ha?
+
+ACHILLES	Good morrow.
+
+AJAX	Ay, and good next day too.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ACHILLES	What mean these fellows? Know they not Achilles?
+
+PATROCLUS	They pass by strangely: they were used to bend
+	To send their smiles before them to Achilles;
+	To come as humbly as they used to creep
+	To holy altars.
+
+ACHILLES	                  What, am I poor of late?
+	'Tis certain, greatness, once fall'n out with fortune,
+	Must fall out with men too: what the declined is
+	He shall as soon read in the eyes of others
+	As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,
+	Show not their mealy wings but to the summer,
+	And not a man, for being simply man,
+	Hath any honour, but honour for those honours
+	That are without him, as place, riches, favour,
+	Prizes of accident as oft as merit:
+	Which when they fall, as being slippery standers,
+	The love that lean'd on them as slippery too,
+	Do one pluck down another and together
+	Die in the fall. But 'tis not so with me:
+	Fortune and I are friends: I do enjoy
+	At ample point all that I did possess,
+	Save these men's looks; who do, methinks, find out
+	Something not worth in me such rich beholding
+	As they have often given. Here is Ulysses;
+	I'll interrupt his reading.
+	How now Ulysses!
+
+ULYSSES	                  Now, great Thetis' son!
+
+ACHILLES	What are you reading?
+
+ULYSSES	A strange fellow here
+	Writes me: 'That man, how dearly ever parted,
+	How much in having, or without or in,
+	Cannot make boast to have that which he hath,
+	Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection;
+	As when his virtues shining upon others
+	Heat them and they retort that heat again
+	To the first giver.'
+
+ACHILLES	This is not strange, Ulysses.
+	The beauty that is borne here in the face
+	The bearer knows not, but commends itself
+	To others' eyes; nor doth the eye itself,
+	That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself,
+	Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed
+	Salutes each other with each other's form;
+	For speculation turns not to itself,
+	Till it hath travell'd and is mirror'd there
+	Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all.
+
+ULYSSES	I do not strain at the position,--
+	It is familiar,--but at the author's drift;
+	Who, in his circumstance, expressly proves
+	That no man is the lord of any thing,
+	Though in and of him there be much consisting,
+	Till he communicate his parts to others:
+	Nor doth he of himself know them for aught
+	Till he behold them form'd in the applause
+	Where they're extended; who, like an arch,
+	reverberates
+	The voice again, or, like a gate of steel
+	Fronting the sun, receives and renders back
+	His figure and his heat.  I was much wrapt in this;
+	And apprehended here immediately
+	The unknown Ajax.
+	Heavens, what a man is there! a very horse,
+	That has he knows not what. Nature, what things there are
+	Most abject in regard and dear in use!
+	What things again most dear in the esteem
+	And poor in worth! Now shall we see to-morrow--
+	An act that very chance doth throw upon him--
+	Ajax renown'd. O heavens, what some men do,
+	While some men leave to do!
+	How some men creep in skittish fortune's hall,
+	Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes!
+	How one man eats into another's pride,
+	While pride is fasting in his wantonness!
+	To see these Grecian lords!--why, even already
+	They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder,
+	As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast
+	And great Troy shrieking.
+
+ACHILLES	I do believe it; for they pass'd by me
+	As misers do by beggars, neither gave to me
+	Good word nor look: what, are my deeds forgot?
+
+ULYSSES	Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
+	Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
+	A great-sized monster of ingratitudes:
+	Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd
+	As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
+	As done: perseverance, dear my lord,
+	Keeps honour bright: to have done is to hang
+	Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail
+	In monumental mockery. Take the instant way;
+	For honour travels in a strait so narrow,
+	Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path;
+	For emulation hath a thousand sons
+	That one by one pursue: if you give way,
+	Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
+	Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by
+	And leave you hindmost;
+	Or like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
+	Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
+	O'er-run and trampled on: then what they do in present,
+	Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours;
+	For time is like a fashionable host
+	That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand,
+	And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly,
+	Grasps in the comer: welcome ever smiles,
+	And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not
+	virtue seek
+	Remuneration for the thing it was;
+	For beauty, wit,
+	High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service,
+	Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all
+	To envious and calumniating time.
+	One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,
+	That all with one consent praise new-born gawds,
+	Though they are made and moulded of things past,
+	And give to dust that is a little gilt
+	More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
+	The present eye praises the present object.
+	Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,
+	That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax;
+	Since things in motion sooner catch the eye
+	Than what not stirs. The cry went once on thee,
+	And still it might, and yet it may again,
+	If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive
+	And case thy reputation in thy tent;
+	Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late,
+	Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods themselves
+	And drave great Mars to faction.
+
+ACHILLES	Of this my privacy
+	I have strong reasons.
+
+ULYSSES	But 'gainst your privacy
+	The reasons are more potent and heroical:
+	'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
+	With one of Priam's daughters.
+
+ACHILLES	Ha! known!
+
+ULYSSES	Is that a wonder?
+	The providence that's in a watchful state
+	Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold,
+	Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps,
+	Keeps place with thought and almost, like the gods,
+	Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
+	There is a mystery--with whom relation
+	Durst never meddle--in the soul of state;
+	Which hath an operation more divine
+	Than breath or pen can give expressure to:
+	All the commerce that you have had with Troy
+	As perfectly is ours as yours, my lord;
+	And better would it fit Achilles much
+	To throw down Hector than Polyxena:
+	But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,
+	When fame shall in our islands sound her trump,
+	And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing,
+	'Great Hector's sister did Achilles win,
+	But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.'
+	Farewell, my lord: I as your lover speak;
+	The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PATROCLUS	To this effect, Achilles, have I moved you:
+	A woman impudent and mannish grown
+	Is not more loathed than an effeminate man
+	In time of action. I stand condemn'd for this;
+	They think my little stomach to the war
+	And your great love to me restrains you thus:
+	Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid
+	Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold,
+	And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
+	Be shook to air.
+
+ACHILLES	                  Shall Ajax fight with Hector?
+
+PATROCLUS	Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him.
+
+ACHILLES	I see my reputation is at stake
+	My fame is shrewdly gored.
+
+PATROCLUS	O, then, beware;
+	Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves:
+	Omission to do what is necessary
+	Seals a commission to a blank of danger;
+	And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
+	Even then when we sit idly in the sun.
+
+ACHILLES	Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus:
+	I'll send the fool to Ajax and desire him
+	To invite the Trojan lords after the combat
+	To see us here unarm'd: I have a woman's longing,
+	An appetite that I am sick withal,
+	To see great Hector in his weeds of peace,
+	To talk with him and to behold his visage,
+	Even to my full of view.
+
+	[Enter THERSITES]
+
+		   A labour saved!
+
+THERSITES	A wonder!
+
+ACHILLES	What?
+
+THERSITES	Ajax goes up and down the field, asking for himself.
+
+ACHILLES	How so?
+
+THERSITES	He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector, and is so
+	prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he
+	raves in saying nothing.
+
+ACHILLES	How can that be?
+
+THERSITES	Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock,--a stride
+	and a stand: ruminates like an hostess that hath no
+	arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning:
+	bites his lip with a politic regard, as who should
+	say 'There were wit in this head, an 'twould out;'
+	and so there is, but it lies as coldly in him as fire
+	in a flint, which will not show without knocking.
+	The man's undone forever; for if Hector break not his
+	neck i' the combat, he'll break 't himself in
+	vain-glory. He knows not me: I said 'Good morrow,
+	Ajax;' and he replies 'Thanks, Agamemnon.' What think
+	you of this man that takes me for the general? He's
+	grown a very land-fish, language-less, a monster.
+	A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both
+	sides, like a leather jerkin.
+
+ACHILLES	Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.
+
+THERSITES	Who, I? why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not
+	answering: speaking is for beggars; he wears his
+	tongue in's arms. I will put on his presence: let
+	Patroclus make demands to me, you shall see the
+	pageant of Ajax.
+
+ACHILLES	To him, Patroclus; tell him I humbly desire the
+	valiant Ajax to invite the most valorous Hector
+	to come unarmed to my tent, and to procure
+	safe-conduct for his person of the magnanimous
+	and most illustrious six-or-seven-times-honoured
+	captain-general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon,
+	et cetera. Do this.
+
+PATROCLUS	Jove bless great Ajax!
+
+THERSITES	Hum!
+
+PATROCLUS	I come from the worthy Achilles,--
+
+THERSITES	Ha!
+
+PATROCLUS	Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his tent,--
+
+THERSITES	Hum!
+
+PATROCLUS	And to procure safe-conduct from Agamemnon.
+
+THERSITES	Agamemnon!
+
+PATROCLUS	Ay, my lord.
+
+THERSITES	Ha!
+
+PATROCLUS	What say you to't?
+
+THERSITES	God b' wi' you, with all my heart.
+
+PATROCLUS	Your answer, sir.
+
+THERSITES	If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven o'clock it will
+	go one way or other: howsoever, he shall pay for me
+	ere he has me.
+
+PATROCLUS	Your answer, sir.
+
+THERSITES	Fare you well, with all my heart.
+
+ACHILLES	Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?
+
+THERSITES	No, but he's out o' tune thus. What music will be in
+	him when Hector has knocked out his brains, I know
+	not; but, I am sure, none, unless the fiddler Apollo
+	get his sinews to make catlings on.
+
+ACHILLES	Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.
+
+THERSITES	Let me bear another to his horse; for that's the more
+	capable creature.
+
+ACHILLES	My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd;
+	And I myself see not the bottom of it.
+
+	[Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS]
+
+THERSITES	Would the fountain of your mind were clear again,
+	that I might water an ass at it! I had rather be a
+	tick in a sheep than such a valiant ignorance.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Troy. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter, from one side, AENEAS, and Servant with a
+	torch; from the other, PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR,
+	DIOMEDES, and others, with torches]
+
+PARIS	See, ho! who is that there?
+
+DEIPHOBUS	It is the Lord AEneas.
+
+AENEAS	Is the prince there in person?
+	Had I so good occasion to lie long
+	As you, prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business
+	Should rob my bed-mate of my company.
+
+DIOMEDES	That's my mind too. Good morrow, Lord AEneas.
+
+PARIS	A valiant Greek, AEneas,--take his hand,--
+	Witness the process of your speech, wherein
+	You told how Diomed, a whole week by days,
+	Did haunt you in the field.
+
+AENEAS	Health to you, valiant sir,
+	During all question of the gentle truce;
+	But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance
+	As heart can think or courage execute.
+
+DIOMEDES	The one and other Diomed embraces.
+	Our bloods are now in calm; and, so long, health!
+	But when contention and occasion meet,
+	By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life
+	With all my force, pursuit and policy.
+
+AENEAS	And thou shalt hunt a lion, that will fly
+	With his face backward. In humane gentleness,
+	Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises' life,
+	Welcome, indeed! By Venus' hand I swear,
+	No man alive can love in such a sort
+	The thing he means to kill more excellently.
+
+DIOMEDES	We sympathize: Jove, let AEneas live,
+	If to my sword his fate be not the glory,
+	A thousand complete courses of the sun!
+	But, in mine emulous honour, let him die,
+	With every joint a wound, and that to-morrow!
+
+AENEAS	We know each other well.
+
+DIOMEDES	We do; and long to know each other worse.
+
+PARIS	This is the most despiteful gentle greeting,
+	The noblest hateful love, that e'er I heard of.
+	What business, lord, so early?
+
+AENEAS	I was sent for to the king; but why, I know not.
+
+PARIS	His purpose meets you: 'twas to bring this Greek
+	To Calchas' house, and there to render him,
+	For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid:
+	Let's have your company, or, if you please,
+	Haste there before us: I constantly do think--
+	Or rather, call my thought a certain knowledge--
+	My brother Troilus lodges there to-night:
+	Rouse him and give him note of our approach.
+	With the whole quality wherefore: I fear
+	We shall be much unwelcome.
+
+AENEAS	That I assure you:
+	Troilus had rather Troy were borne to Greece
+	Than Cressid borne from Troy.
+
+PARIS	There is no help;
+	The bitter disposition of the time
+	Will have it so. On, lord; we'll follow you.
+
+AENEAS	Good morrow, all.
+
+	[Exit with Servant]
+
+PARIS	And tell me, noble Diomed, faith, tell me true,
+	Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship,
+	Who, in your thoughts, merits fair Helen best,
+	Myself or Menelaus?
+
+DIOMEDES	Both alike:
+	He merits well to have her, that doth seek her,
+	Not making any scruple of her soilure,
+	With such a hell of pain and world of charge,
+	And you as well to keep her, that defend her,
+	Not palating the taste of her dishonour,
+	With such a costly loss of wealth and friends:
+	He, like a puling cuckold, would drink up
+	The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece;
+	You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins
+	Are pleased to breed out your inheritors:
+	Both merits poised, each weighs nor less nor more;
+	But he as he, the heavier for a whore.
+
+PARIS	You are too bitter to your countrywoman.
+
+DIOMEDES	She's bitter to her country: hear me, Paris:
+	For every false drop in her bawdy veins
+	A Grecian's life hath sunk; for every scruple
+	Of her contaminated carrion weight,
+	A Trojan hath been slain: since she could speak,
+	She hath not given so many good words breath
+	As for her Greeks and Trojans suffer'd death.
+
+PARIS	Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen do,
+	Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy:
+	But we in silence hold this virtue well,
+	We'll but commend what we intend to sell.
+	Here lies our way.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. Court of Pandarus' house.
+
+
+	[Enter TROILUS and CRESSIDA]
+
+TROILUS	Dear, trouble not yourself: the morn is cold.
+
+CRESSIDA	Then, sweet my lord, I'll call mine uncle down;
+	He shall unbolt the gates.
+
+TROILUS	Trouble him not;
+	To bed, to bed: sleep kill those pretty eyes,
+	And give as soft attachment to thy senses
+	As infants' empty of all thought!
+
+CRESSIDA	Good morrow, then.
+
+TROILUS	I prithee now, to bed.
+
+CRESSIDA	Are you a-weary of me?
+
+TROILUS	O Cressida! but that the busy day,
+	Waked by the lark, hath roused the ribald crows,
+	And dreaming night will hide our joys no longer,
+	I would not from thee.
+
+CRESSIDA	Night hath been too brief.
+
+TROILUS	Beshrew the witch! with venomous wights she stays
+	As tediously as hell, but flies the grasps of love
+	With wings more momentary-swift than thought.
+	You will catch cold, and curse me.
+
+CRESSIDA	Prithee, tarry:
+	You men will never tarry.
+	O foolish Cressid! I might have still held off,
+	And then you would have tarried. Hark!
+	there's one up.
+
+PANDARUS	[Within]  What, 's all the doors open here?
+
+TROILUS	It is your uncle.
+
+CRESSIDA	A pestilence on him! now will he be mocking:
+	I shall have such a life!
+
+	[Enter PANDARUS]
+
+PANDARUS	How now, how now! how go maidenheads? Here, you
+	maid! where's my cousin Cressid?
+
+CRESSIDA	Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!
+	You bring me to do, and then you flout me too.
+
+PANDARUS	To do what? to do what? let her say
+	what: what have I brought you to do?
+
+CRESSIDA	Come, come, beshrew your heart! you'll ne'er be good,
+	Nor suffer others.
+
+PANDARUS	Ha! ha! Alas, poor wretch! ah, poor capocchia!
+	hast not slept to-night? would he not, a naughty
+	man, let it sleep? a bugbear take him!
+
+CRESSIDA	Did not I tell you? Would he were knock'd i' the head!
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+	Who's that at door? good uncle, go and see.
+	My lord, come you again into my chamber:
+	You smile and mock me, as if I meant naughtily.
+
+TROILUS	Ha, ha!
+
+CRESSIDA	Come, you are deceived, I think of no such thing.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+	How earnestly they knock! Pray you, come in:
+	I would not for half Troy have you seen here.
+
+	[Exeunt TROILUS and CRESSIDA]
+
+PANDARUS	Who's there? what's the matter? will you beat
+	down the door? How now! what's the matter?
+
+	[Enter AENEAS]
+
+AENEAS	Good morrow, lord, good morrow.
+
+PANDARUS	Who's there? my Lord AEneas! By my troth,
+	I knew you not: what news with you so early?
+
+AENEAS	Is not Prince Troilus here?
+
+PANDARUS	Here! what should he do here?
+
+AENEAS	Come, he is here, my lord; do not deny him:
+	It doth import him much to speak with me.
+
+PANDARUS	Is he here, say you? 'tis more than I know, I'll
+	be sworn: for my own part, I came in late. What
+	should he do here?
+
+AENEAS	Who!--nay, then: come, come, you'll do him wrong
+	ere you're ware: you'll be so true to him, to be
+	false to him: do not you know of him, but yet go
+	fetch him hither; go.
+
+	[Re-enter TROILUS]
+
+TROILUS	How now! what's the matter?
+
+AENEAS	My lord, I scarce have leisure to salute you,
+	My matter is so rash: there is at hand
+	Paris your brother, and Deiphobus,
+	The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor
+	Deliver'd to us; and for him forthwith,
+	Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour,
+	We must give up to Diomedes' hand
+	The Lady Cressida.
+
+TROILUS	                  Is it so concluded?
+
+AENEAS	By Priam and the general state of Troy:
+	They are at hand and ready to effect it.
+
+TROILUS	How my achievements mock me!
+	I will go meet them: and, my Lord AEneas,
+	We met by chance; you did not find me here.
+
+AENEAS	Good, good, my lord; the secrets of nature
+	Have not more gift in taciturnity.
+
+	[Exeunt TROILUS and AENEAS]
+
+PANDARUS	Is't possible? no sooner got but lost? The devil
+	take Antenor! the young prince will go mad: a
+	plague upon Antenor! I would they had broke 's neck!
+
+	[Re-enter CRESSIDA]
+
+CRESSIDA	How now! what's the matter? who was here?
+
+PANDARUS	Ah, ah!
+
+CRESSIDA	Why sigh you so profoundly? where's my lord? gone!
+	Tell me, sweet uncle, what's the matter?
+
+PANDARUS	Would I were as deep under the earth as I am above!
+
+CRESSIDA	O the gods! what's the matter?
+
+PANDARUS	Prithee, get thee in: would thou hadst ne'er been
+	born! I knew thou wouldst be his death. O, poor
+	gentleman! A plague upon Antenor!
+
+CRESSIDA	Good uncle, I beseech you, on my knees! beseech you,
+	what's the matter?
+
+PANDARUS	Thou must be gone, wench, thou must be gone; thou
+	art changed for Antenor: thou must to thy father,
+	and be gone from Troilus: 'twill be his death;
+	'twill be his bane; he cannot bear it.
+
+CRESSIDA	O you immortal gods! I will not go.
+
+PANDARUS	Thou must.
+
+CRESSIDA	I will not, uncle: I have forgot my father;
+	I know no touch of consanguinity;
+	No kin no love, no blood, no soul so near me
+	As the sweet Troilus. O you gods divine!
+	Make Cressid's name the very crown of falsehood,
+	If ever she leave Troilus! Time, force, and death,
+	Do to this body what extremes you can;
+	But the strong base and building of my love
+	Is as the very centre of the earth,
+	Drawing all things to it. I'll go in and weep,--
+
+PANDARUS	Do, do.
+
+CRESSIDA	Tear my bright hair and scratch my praised cheeks,
+	Crack my clear voice with sobs and break my heart
+	With sounding Troilus. I will not go from Troy.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. Street before Pandarus' house.
+
+
+	[Enter PARIS, TROILUS, AENEAS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR,
+	and DIOMEDES]
+
+PARIS	It is great morning, and the hour prefix'd
+	Of her delivery to this valiant Greek
+	Comes fast upon. Good my brother Troilus,
+	Tell you the lady what she is to do,
+	And haste her to the purpose.
+
+TROILUS	Walk into her house;
+	I'll bring her to the Grecian presently:
+	And to his hand when I deliver her,
+	Think it an altar, and thy brother Troilus
+	A priest there offering to it his own heart.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PARIS	I know what 'tis to love;
+	And would, as I shall pity, I could help!
+	Please you walk in, my lords.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The same. Pandarus' house.
+
+
+	[Enter PANDARUS and CRESSIDA]
+
+PANDARUS	Be moderate, be moderate.
+
+CRESSIDA	Why tell you me of moderation?
+	The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste,
+	And violenteth in a sense as strong
+	As that which causeth it: how can I moderate it?
+	If I could temporize with my affection,
+	Or brew it to a weak and colder palate,
+	The like allayment could I give my grief.
+	My love admits no qualifying dross;
+	No more my grief, in such a precious loss.
+
+PANDARUS	Here, here, here he comes.
+
+	[Enter TROILUS]
+
+	Ah, sweet ducks!
+
+CRESSIDA	O Troilus! Troilus!
+
+	[Embracing him]
+
+PANDARUS	What a pair of spectacles is here!
+	Let me embrace too. 'O heart,' as the goodly saying is,
+	'--O heart, heavy heart,
+	Why sigh'st thou without breaking?
+	where he answers again,
+	'Because thou canst not ease thy smart
+	By friendship nor by speaking.'
+	There was never a truer rhyme. Let us cast away
+	nothing, for we may live to have need of such a
+	verse: we see it, we see it. How now, lambs?
+
+TROILUS	Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity,
+	That the bless'd gods, as angry with my fancy,
+	More bright in zeal than the devotion which
+	Cold lips blow to their deities, take thee from me.
+
+CRESSIDA	Have the gods envy?
+
+PANDARUS	Ay, ay, ay, ay; 'tis too plain a case.
+
+CRESSIDA	And is it true that I must go from Troy?
+
+TROILUS	A hateful truth.
+
+CRESSIDA	                  What, and from Troilus too?
+
+TROILUS	From Troy and Troilus.
+
+CRESSIDA	Is it possible?
+
+TROILUS	And suddenly; where injury of chance
+	Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by
+	All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips
+	Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents
+	Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows
+	Even in the birth of our own labouring breath:
+	We two, that with so many thousand sighs
+	Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves
+	With the rude brevity and discharge of one.
+	Injurious time now with a robber's haste
+	Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how:
+	As many farewells as be stars in heaven,
+	With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them,
+	He fumbles up into a lose adieu,
+	And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
+	Distasted with the salt of broken tears.
+
+AENEAS	[Within]  My lord, is the lady ready?
+
+TROILUS	Hark! you are call'd: some say the Genius so
+	Cries 'come' to him that instantly must die.
+	Bid them have patience; she shall come anon.
+
+PANDARUS	Where are my tears? rain, to lay this wind, or
+	my heart will be blown up by the root.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CRESSIDA	I must then to the Grecians?
+
+TROILUS	No remedy.
+
+CRESSIDA	A woful Cressid 'mongst the merry Greeks!
+	When shall we see again?
+
+TROILUS	Hear me, my love: be thou but true of heart,--
+
+CRESSIDA	I true! how now! what wicked deem is this?
+
+TROILUS	Nay, we must use expostulation kindly,
+	For it is parting from us:
+	I speak not 'be thou true,' as fearing thee,
+	For I will throw my glove to Death himself,
+	That there's no maculation in thy heart:
+	But 'be thou true,' say I, to fashion in
+	My sequent protestation; be thou true,
+	And I will see thee.
+
+CRESSIDA	O, you shall be exposed, my lord, to dangers
+	As infinite as imminent! but I'll be true.
+
+TROILUS	And I'll grow friend with danger. Wear this sleeve.
+
+CRESSIDA	And you this glove. When shall I see you?
+
+TROILUS	I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels,
+	To give thee nightly visitation.
+	But yet be true.
+
+CRESSIDA	                  O heavens! 'be true' again!
+
+TROILUS	Hear while I speak it, love:
+	The Grecian youths are full of quality;
+	They're loving, well composed with gifts of nature,
+	Flowing and swelling o'er with arts and exercise:
+	How novelty may move, and parts with person,
+	Alas, a kind of godly jealousy--
+	Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin--
+	Makes me afeard.
+
+CRESSIDA	                  O heavens! you love me not.
+
+TROILUS	Die I a villain, then!
+	In this I do not call your faith in question
+	So mainly as my merit: I cannot sing,
+	Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk,
+	Nor play at subtle games; fair virtues all,
+	To which the Grecians are most prompt and pregnant:
+	But I can tell that in each grace of these
+	There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil
+	That tempts most cunningly: but be not tempted.
+
+CRESSIDA	Do you think I will?
+
+TROILUS	No.
+	But something may be done that we will not:
+	And sometimes we are devils to ourselves,
+	When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
+	Presuming on their changeful potency.
+
+AENEAS	[Within]  Nay, good my lord,--
+
+TROILUS	Come, kiss; and let us part.
+
+PARIS	[Within]  Brother Troilus!
+
+TROILUS	Good brother, come you hither;
+	And bring AEneas and the Grecian with you.
+
+CRESSIDA	My lord, will you be true?
+
+TROILUS	Who, I? alas, it is my vice, my fault:
+	Whiles others fish with craft for great opinion,
+	I with great truth catch mere simplicity;
+	Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns,
+	With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare.
+	Fear not my truth: the moral of my wit
+	Is 'plain and true;' there's all the reach of it.
+
+	[Enter AENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, DEIPHOBUS,
+	and DIOMEDES]
+
+	Welcome, Sir Diomed! here is the lady
+	Which for Antenor we deliver you:
+	At the port, lord, I'll give her to thy hand,
+	And by the way possess thee what she is.
+	Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Greek,
+	If e'er thou stand at mercy of my sword,
+	Name Cressida and thy life shall be as safe
+	As Priam is in Ilion.
+
+DIOMEDES	Fair Lady Cressid,
+	So please you, save the thanks this prince expects:
+	The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek,
+	Pleads your fair usage; and to Diomed
+	You shall be mistress, and command him wholly.
+
+TROILUS	Grecian, thou dost not use me courteously,
+	To shame the zeal of my petition to thee
+	In praising her: I tell thee, lord of Greece,
+	She is as far high-soaring o'er thy praises
+	As thou unworthy to be call'd her servant.
+	I charge thee use her well, even for my charge;
+	For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not,
+	Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard,
+	I'll cut thy throat.
+
+DIOMEDES	O, be not moved, Prince Troilus:
+	Let me be privileged by my place and message,
+	To be a speaker free; when I am hence
+	I'll answer to my lust: and know you, lord,
+	I'll nothing do on charge: to her own worth
+	She shall be prized; but that you say 'be't so,'
+	I'll speak it in my spirit and honour, 'no.'
+
+TROILUS	Come, to the port. I'll tell thee, Diomed,
+	This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head.
+	Lady, give me your hand, and, as we walk,
+	To our own selves bend we our needful talk.
+
+	[Exeunt TROILUS, CRESSIDA, and DIOMEDES]
+
+	[Trumpet within]
+
+PARIS	Hark! Hector's trumpet.
+
+AENEAS	How have we spent this morning!
+	The prince must think me tardy and remiss,
+	That sore to ride before him to the field.
+
+PARIS	'Tis Troilus' fault: come, come, to field with him.
+
+DEIPHOBUS	Let us make ready straight.
+
+AENEAS	Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity,
+	Let us address to tend on Hector's heels:
+	The glory of our Troy doth this day lie
+	On his fair worth and single chivalry.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The Grecian camp. Lists set out.
+
+
+	[Enter AJAX, armed; AGAMEMNON, ACHILLES, PATROCLUS,
+	MENELAUS, ULYSSES, NESTOR, and others]
+
+AGAMEMNON	Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair,
+	Anticipating time with starting courage.
+	Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy,
+	Thou dreadful Ajax; that the appalled air
+	May pierce the head of the great combatant
+	And hale him hither.
+
+AJAX	Thou, trumpet, there's my purse.
+	Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe:
+	Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek
+	Outswell the colic of puff'd Aquilon:
+	Come, stretch thy chest and let thy eyes spout blood;
+	Thou blow'st for Hector.
+
+	[Trumpet sounds]
+
+ULYSSES	No trumpet answers.
+
+ACHILLES	'Tis but early days.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas' daughter?
+
+ULYSSES	'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait;
+	He rises on the toe: that spirit of his
+	In aspiration lifts him from the earth.
+
+	[Enter DIOMEDES, with CRESSIDA]
+
+AGAMEMNON	Is this the Lady Cressid?
+
+DIOMEDES	Even she.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady.
+
+NESTOR	Our general doth salute you with a kiss.
+
+ULYSSES	Yet is the kindness but particular;
+	'Twere better she were kiss'd in general.
+
+NESTOR	And very courtly counsel: I'll begin.
+	So much for Nestor.
+
+ACHILLES	I'll take what winter from your lips, fair lady:
+	Achilles bids you welcome.
+
+MENELAUS	I had good argument for kissing once.
+
+PATROCLUS	But that's no argument for kissing now;
+	For this popp'd Paris in his hardiment,
+	And parted thus you and your argument.
+
+ULYSSES	O deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns!
+	For which we lose our heads to gild his horns.
+
+PATROCLUS	The first was Menelaus' kiss; this, mine:
+	Patroclus kisses you.
+
+MENELAUS	O, this is trim!
+
+PATROCLUS	Paris and I kiss evermore for him.
+
+MENELAUS	I'll have my kiss, sir. Lady, by your leave.
+
+CRESSIDA	In kissing, do you render or receive?
+
+PATROCLUS	Both take and give.
+
+CRESSIDA	I'll make my match to live,
+	The kiss you take is better than you give;
+	Therefore no kiss.
+
+MENELAUS	I'll give you boot, I'll give you three for one.
+
+CRESSIDA	You're an odd man; give even or give none.
+
+MENELAUS	An odd man, lady! every man is odd.
+
+CRESSIDA	No, Paris is not; for you know 'tis true,
+	That you are odd, and he is even with you.
+
+MENELAUS	You fillip me o' the head.
+
+CRESSIDA	No, I'll be sworn.
+
+ULYSSES	It were no match, your nail against his horn.
+	May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you?
+
+CRESSIDA	You may.
+
+ULYSSES	       I do desire it.
+
+CRESSIDA	Why, beg, then.
+
+ULYSSES	Why then for Venus' sake, give me a kiss,
+	When Helen is a maid again, and his.
+
+CRESSIDA	I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due.
+
+ULYSSES	Never's my day, and then a kiss of you.
+
+DIOMEDES	Lady, a word: I'll bring you to your father.
+
+	[Exit with CRESSIDA]
+
+NESTOR	A woman of quick sense.
+
+ULYSSES	Fie, fie upon her!
+	There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
+	Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
+	At every joint and motive of her body.
+	O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue,
+	That give accosting welcome ere it comes,
+	And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
+	To every ticklish reader! set them down
+	For sluttish spoils of opportunity
+	And daughters of the game.
+
+	[Trumpet within]
+
+ALL	The Trojans' trumpet.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Yonder comes the troop.
+
+	[Enter HECTOR, armed; AENEAS, TROILUS, and other
+	Trojans, with Attendants]
+
+AENEAS	Hail, all you state of Greece! what shall be done
+	To him that victory commands? or do you purpose
+	A victor shall be known? will you the knights
+	Shall to the edge of all extremity
+	Pursue each other, or shall be divided
+	By any voice or order of the field?
+	Hector bade ask.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Which way would Hector have it?
+
+AENEAS	He cares not; he'll obey conditions.
+
+ACHILLES	'Tis done like Hector; but securely done,
+	A little proudly, and great deal misprizing
+	The knight opposed.
+
+AENEAS	If not Achilles, sir,
+	What is your name?
+
+ACHILLES	                  If not Achilles, nothing.
+
+AENEAS	Therefore Achilles: but, whate'er, know this:
+	In the extremity of great and little,
+	Valour and pride excel themselves in Hector;
+	The one almost as infinite as all,
+	The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well,
+	And that which looks like pride is courtesy.
+	This Ajax is half made of Hector's blood:
+	In love whereof, half Hector stays at home;
+	Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek
+	This blended knight, half Trojan and half Greek.
+
+ACHILLES	A maiden battle, then? O, I perceive you.
+
+	[Re-enter DIOMEDES]
+
+AGAMEMNON	Here is Sir Diomed. Go, gentle knight,
+	Stand by our Ajax: as you and Lord AEneas
+	Consent upon the order of their fight,
+	So be it; either to the uttermost,
+	Or else a breath: the combatants being kin
+	Half stints their strife before their strokes begin.
+
+	[AJAX and HECTOR enter the lists]
+
+ULYSSES	They are opposed already.
+
+AGAMEMNON	What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy?
+
+ULYSSES	The youngest son of Priam, a true knight,
+	Not yet mature, yet matchless, firm of word,
+	Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue;
+	Not soon provoked nor being provoked soon calm'd:
+	His heart and hand both open and both free;
+	For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows;
+	Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
+	Nor dignifies an impure thought with breath;
+	Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
+	For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes
+	To tender objects, but he in heat of action
+	Is more vindicative than jealous love:
+	They call him Troilus, and on him erect
+	A second hope, as fairly built as Hector.
+	Thus says AEneas; one that knows the youth
+	Even to his inches, and with private soul
+	Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me.
+
+	[Alarum. Hector and Ajax fight]
+
+AGAMEMNON	They are in action.
+
+NESTOR	Now, Ajax, hold thine own!
+
+TROILUS	Hector, thou sleep'st;
+	Awake thee!
+
+AGAMEMNON	His blows are well disposed: there, Ajax!
+
+DIOMEDES	You must no more.
+
+	[Trumpets cease]
+
+AENEAS	                  Princes, enough, so please you.
+
+AJAX	I am not warm yet; let us fight again.
+
+DIOMEDES	As Hector pleases.
+
+HECTOR	                  Why, then will I no more:
+	Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son,
+	A cousin-german to great Priam's seed;
+	The obligation of our blood forbids
+	A gory emulation 'twixt us twain:
+	Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so
+	That thou couldst say 'This hand is Grecian all,
+	And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg
+	All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood
+	Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister
+	Bounds in my father's;' by Jove multipotent,
+	Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member
+	Wherein my sword had not impressure made
+	Of our rank feud: but the just gods gainsay
+	That any drop thou borrow'dst from thy mother,
+	My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword
+	Be drain'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax:
+	By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms;
+	Hector would have them fall upon him thus:
+	Cousin, all honour to thee!
+
+AJAX	I thank thee, Hector
+	Thou art too gentle and too free a man:
+	I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence
+	A great addition earned in thy death.
+
+HECTOR	Not Neoptolemus so mirable,
+	On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st Oyes
+	Cries 'This is he,' could promise to himself
+	A thought of added honour torn from Hector.
+
+AENEAS	There is expectance here from both the sides,
+	What further you will do.
+
+HECTOR	We'll answer it;
+	The issue is embracement: Ajax, farewell.
+
+AJAX	If I might in entreaties find success--
+	As seld I have the chance--I would desire
+	My famous cousin to our Grecian tents.
+
+DIOMEDES	'Tis Agamemnon's wish, and great Achilles
+	Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector.
+
+HECTOR	AEneas, call my brother Troilus to me,
+	And signify this loving interview
+	To the expecters of our Trojan part;
+	Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my cousin;
+	I will go eat with thee and see your knights.
+
+AJAX	Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here.
+
+HECTOR	The worthiest of them tell me name by name;
+	But for Achilles, mine own searching eyes
+	Shall find him by his large and portly size.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Worthy of arms! as welcome as to one
+	That would be rid of such an enemy;
+	But that's no welcome: understand more clear,
+	What's past and what's to come is strew'd with husks
+	And formless ruin of oblivion;
+	But in this extant moment, faith and troth,
+	Strain'd purely from all hollow bias-drawing,
+	Bids thee, with most divine integrity,
+	From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome.
+
+HECTOR	I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon.
+
+AGAMEMNON	[To TROILUS]  My well-famed lord of Troy, no
+	less to you.
+
+MENELAUS	Let me confirm my princely brother's greeting:
+	You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither.
+
+HECTOR	Who must we answer?
+
+AENEAS	The noble Menelaus.
+
+HECTOR	O, you, my lord? by Mars his gauntlet, thanks!
+	Mock not, that I affect the untraded oath;
+	Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove:
+	She's well, but bade me not commend her to you.
+
+MENELAUS	Name her not now, sir; she's a deadly theme.
+
+HECTOR	O, pardon; I offend.
+
+NESTOR	I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft
+	Labouring for destiny make cruel way
+	Through ranks of Greekish youth, and I have seen thee,
+	As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,
+	Despising many forfeits and subduements,
+	When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' the air,
+	Not letting it decline on the declined,
+	That I have said to some my standers by
+	'Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!'
+	And I have seen thee pause and take thy breath,
+	When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in,
+	Like an Olympian wrestling: this have I seen;
+	But this thy countenance, still lock'd in steel,
+	I never saw till now. I knew thy grandsire,
+	And once fought with him: he was a soldier good;
+	But, by great Mars, the captain of us all,
+	Never saw like thee. Let an old man embrace thee;
+	And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents.
+
+AENEAS	'Tis the old Nestor.
+
+HECTOR	Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle,
+	That hast so long walk'd hand in hand with time:
+	Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee.
+
+NESTOR	I would my arms could match thee in contention,
+	As they contend with thee in courtesy.
+
+HECTOR	I would they could.
+
+NESTOR	Ha!
+	By this white beard, I'ld fight with thee to-morrow.
+	Well, welcome, welcome! I have seen the time.
+
+ULYSSES	I wonder now how yonder city stands
+	When we have here her base and pillar by us.
+
+HECTOR	I know your favour, Lord Ulysses, well.
+	Ah, sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead,
+	Since first I saw yourself and Diomed
+	In Ilion, on your Greekish embassy.
+
+ULYSSES	Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue:
+	My prophecy is but half his journey yet;
+	For yonder walls, that pertly front your town,
+	Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds,
+	Must kiss their own feet.
+
+HECTOR	I must not believe you:
+	There they stand yet, and modestly I think,
+	The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost
+	A drop of Grecian blood: the end crowns all,
+	And that old common arbitrator, Time,
+	Will one day end it.
+
+ULYSSES	So to him we leave it.
+	Most gentle and most valiant Hector, welcome:
+	After the general, I beseech you next
+	To feast with me and see me at my tent.
+
+ACHILLES	I shall forestall thee, Lord Ulysses, thou!
+	Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee;
+	I have with exact view perused thee, Hector,
+	And quoted joint by joint.
+
+HECTOR	Is this Achilles?
+
+ACHILLES	I am Achilles.
+
+HECTOR	Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on thee.
+
+ACHILLES	Behold thy fill.
+
+HECTOR	                  Nay, I have done already.
+
+ACHILLES	Thou art too brief: I will the second time,
+	As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb.
+
+HECTOR	O, like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er;
+	But there's more in me than thou understand'st.
+	Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye?
+
+ACHILLES	Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body
+	Shall I destroy him? whether there, or there, or there?
+	That I may give the local wound a name
+	And make distinct the very breach whereout
+	Hector's great spirit flew: answer me, heavens!
+
+HECTOR	It would discredit the blest gods, proud man,
+	To answer such a question: stand again:
+	Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly
+	As to prenominate in nice conjecture
+	Where thou wilt hit me dead?
+
+ACHILLES	I tell thee, yea.
+
+HECTOR	Wert thou an oracle to tell me so,
+	I'd not believe thee. Henceforth guard thee well;
+	For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there;
+	But, by the forge that stithied Mars his helm,
+	I'll kill thee every where, yea, o'er and o'er.
+	You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag;
+	His insolence draws folly from my lips;
+	But I'll endeavour deeds to match these words,
+	Or may I never--
+
+AJAX	                  Do not chafe thee, cousin:
+	And you, Achilles, let these threats alone,
+	Till accident or purpose bring you to't:
+	You may have every day enough of Hector
+	If you have stomach; the general state, I fear,
+	Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him.
+
+HECTOR	I pray you, let us see you in the field:
+	We have had pelting wars, since you refused
+	The Grecians' cause.
+
+ACHILLES	Dost thou entreat me, Hector?
+	To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death;
+	To-night all friends.
+
+HECTOR	Thy hand upon that match.
+
+AGAMEMNON	First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent;
+	There in the full convive we: afterwards,
+	As Hector's leisure and your bounties shall
+	Concur together, severally entreat him.
+	Beat loud the tabourines, let the trumpets blow,
+	That this great soldier may his welcome know.
+
+	[Exeunt all except TROILUS and ULYSSES]
+
+TROILUS	My Lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you,
+	In what place of the field doth Calchas keep?
+
+ULYSSES	At Menelaus' tent, most princely Troilus:
+	There Diomed doth feast with him to-night;
+	Who neither looks upon the heaven nor earth,
+	But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view
+	On the fair Cressid.
+
+TROILUS	Shall sweet lord, be bound to you so much,
+	After we part from Agamemnon's tent,
+	To bring me thither?
+
+ULYSSES	You shall command me, sir.
+	As gentle tell me, of what honour was
+	This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there
+	That wails her absence?
+
+
+TROILUS	O, sir, to such as boasting show their scars
+	A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord?
+	She was beloved, she loved; she is, and doth:
+	But still sweet love is food for fortune's tooth.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The Grecian camp. Before Achilles' tent.
+
+
+	[Enter ACHILLES and PATROCLUS]
+
+ACHILLES	I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night,
+	Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow.
+	Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
+
+PATROCLUS	Here comes Thersites.
+
+	[Enter THERSITES]
+
+ACHILLES	How now, thou core of envy!
+	Thou crusty batch of nature, what's the news?
+
+THERSITES	Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol
+	of idiot worshippers, here's a letter for thee.
+
+ACHILLES	From whence, fragment?
+
+THERSITES	Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy.
+
+PATROCLUS	Who keeps the tent now?
+
+THERSITES	The surgeon's box, or the patient's wound.
+
+PATROCLUS	Well said, adversity! and what need these tricks?
+
+THERSITES	Prithee, be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk:
+	thou art thought to be Achilles' male varlet.
+
+PATROCLUS	Male varlet, you rogue! what's that?
+
+THERSITES	Why, his masculine whore. Now, the rotten diseases
+	of the south, the guts-griping, ruptures, catarrhs,
+	loads o' gravel i' the back, lethargies, cold
+	palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten livers, wheezing
+	lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas,
+	limekilns i' the palm, incurable bone-ache, and the
+	rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, take and take
+	again such preposterous discoveries!
+
+PATROCLUS	Why thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest
+	thou to curse thus?
+
+THERSITES	Do I curse thee?
+
+PATROCLUS	Why no, you ruinous butt, you whoreson
+	indistinguishable cur, no.
+
+THERSITES	No! why art thou then exasperate, thou idle
+	immaterial skein of sleave-silk, thou green sarcenet
+	flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's
+	purse, thou? Ah, how the poor world is pestered
+	with such waterflies, diminutives of nature!
+
+PATROCLUS	Out, gall!
+
+THERSITES	Finch-egg!
+
+ACHILLES	My sweet Patroclus, I am thwarted quite
+	From my great purpose in to-morrow's battle.
+	Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba,
+	A token from her daughter, my fair love,
+	Both taxing me and gaging me to keep
+	An oath that I have sworn. I will not break it:
+	Fall Greeks; fail fame; honour or go or stay;
+	My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.
+	Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent:
+	This night in banqueting must all be spent.
+	Away, Patroclus!
+
+	[Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS]
+
+THERSITES	With too much blood and too little brain, these two
+	may run mad; but, if with too much brain and too
+	little blood they do, I'll be a curer of madmen.
+	Here's Agamemnon, an honest fellow enough and one
+	that loves quails; but he has not so much brain as
+	earwax: and the goodly transformation of Jupiter
+	there, his brother, the bull,--the primitive statue,
+	and oblique memorial of cuckolds; a thrifty
+	shoeing-horn in a chain, hanging at his brother's
+	leg,--to what form but that he is, should wit larded
+	with malice and malice forced with wit turn him to?
+	To an ass, were nothing; he is both ass and ox: to
+	an ox, were nothing; he is both ox and ass. To be a
+	dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an
+	owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would
+	not care; but to be Menelaus, I would conspire
+	against destiny. Ask me not, what I would be, if I
+	were not Thersites; for I care not to be the louse
+	of a lazar, so I were not Menelaus! Hey-day!
+	spirits and fires!
+
+	[Enter HECTOR, TROILUS, AJAX, AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES,
+	NESTOR, MENELAUS, and DIOMEDES, with lights]
+
+AGAMEMNON	We go wrong, we go wrong.
+
+AJAX	No, yonder 'tis;
+	There, where we see the lights.
+
+HECTOR	I trouble you.
+
+AJAX	No, not a whit.
+
+ULYSSES	                  Here comes himself to guide you.
+
+	[Re-enter ACHILLES]
+
+ACHILLES	Welcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all.
+
+AGAMEMNON	So now, fair prince of Troy, I bid good night.
+	Ajax commands the guard to tend on you.
+
+HECTOR	Thanks and good night to the Greeks' general.
+
+MENELAUS	Good night, my lord.
+
+HECTOR	Good night, sweet lord Menelaus.
+
+THERSITES	Sweet draught: 'sweet' quoth 'a! sweet sink,
+	sweet sewer.
+
+ACHILLES	Good night and welcome, both at once, to those
+	That go or tarry.
+
+AGAMEMNON	Good night.
+
+	[Exeunt AGAMEMNON and MENELAUS]
+
+ACHILLES	Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed,
+	Keep Hector company an hour or two.
+
+DIOMEDES	I cannot, lord; I have important business,
+	The tide whereof is now. Good night, great Hector.
+
+HECTOR	Give me your hand.
+
+ULYSSES	[Aside to TROILUS]  Follow his torch; he goes to
+	Calchas' tent:
+	I'll keep you company.
+
+TROILUS	Sweet sir, you honour me.
+
+HECTOR	And so, good night.
+
+	[Exit DIOMEDES; ULYSSES and TROILUS following]
+
+ACHILLES	Come, come, enter my tent.
+
+	[Exeunt ACHILLES, HECTOR, AJAX, and NESTOR]
+
+THERSITES	That same Diomed's a false-hearted rogue, a most
+	unjust knave; I will no more trust him when he leers
+	than I will a serpent when he hisses: he will spend
+	his mouth, and promise, like Brabbler the hound:
+	but when he performs, astronomers foretell it; it
+	is prodigious, there will come some change; the sun
+	borrows of the moon, when Diomed keeps his
+	word. I will rather leave to see Hector, than
+	not to dog him: they say he keeps a Trojan
+	drab, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent: I'll
+	after. Nothing but lechery! all incontinent varlets!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. Before Calchas' tent.
+
+
+	[Enter DIOMEDES]
+
+DIOMEDES	What, are you up here, ho? speak.
+
+CALCHAS	[Within]  Who calls?
+
+DIOMEDES	Calchas, I think. Where's your daughter?
+
+CALCHAS	[Within]  She comes to you.
+
+	[Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance;
+	after them, THERSITES]
+
+ULYSSES	Stand where the torch may not discover us.
+
+	[Enter CRESSIDA]
+
+TROILUS	Cressid comes forth to him.
+
+DIOMEDES	How now, my charge!
+
+CRESSIDA	Now, my sweet guardian! Hark, a word with you.
+
+	[Whispers]
+
+TROILUS	Yea, so familiar!
+
+ULYSSES	She will sing any man at first sight.
+
+THERSITES	And any man may sing her, if he can take her cliff;
+	she's noted.
+
+DIOMEDES	Will you remember?
+
+CRESSIDA	Remember! yes.
+
+DIOMEDES	Nay, but do, then;
+	And let your mind be coupled with your words.
+
+TROILUS	What should she remember?
+
+ULYSSES	List.
+
+CRESSIDA	Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly.
+
+THERSITES	Roguery!
+
+DIOMEDES	Nay, then,--
+
+CRESSIDA	I'll tell you what,--
+
+DIOMEDES	Foh, foh! come, tell a pin: you are forsworn.
+
+CRESSIDA	In faith, I cannot: what would you have me do?
+
+THERSITES	A juggling trick,--to be secretly open.
+
+DIOMEDES	What did you swear you would bestow on me?
+
+CRESSIDA	I prithee, do not hold me to mine oath;
+	Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek.
+
+DIOMEDES	Good night.
+
+TROILUS	Hold, patience!
+
+ULYSSES	How now, Trojan!
+
+CRESSIDA	Diomed,--
+
+DIOMEDES	No, no, good night: I'll be your fool no more.
+
+TROILUS	Thy better must.
+
+CRESSIDA	Hark, one word in your ear.
+
+TROILUS	O plague and madness!
+
+ULYSSES	You are moved, prince; let us depart, I pray you,
+	Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself
+	To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous;
+	The time right deadly; I beseech you, go.
+
+TROILUS	Behold, I pray you!
+
+ULYSSES	Nay, good my lord, go off:
+	You flow to great distraction; come, my lord.
+
+TROILUS	I pray thee, stay.
+
+ULYSSES	                  You have not patience; come.
+
+TROILUS	I pray you, stay; by hell and all hell's torments
+	I will not speak a word!
+
+DIOMEDES	And so, good night.
+
+CRESSIDA	Nay, but you part in anger.
+
+TROILUS	Doth that grieve thee?
+	O wither'd truth!
+
+ULYSSES	                  Why, how now, lord!
+
+TROILUS	By Jove,
+	I will be patient.
+
+CRESSIDA	                  Guardian!--why, Greek!
+
+DIOMEDES	Foh, foh! adieu; you palter.
+
+CRESSIDA	In faith, I do not: come hither once again.
+
+ULYSSES	You shake, my lord, at something: will you go?
+	You will break out.
+
+TROILUS	She strokes his cheek!
+
+ULYSSES	Come, come.
+
+TROILUS	Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak a word:
+	There is between my will and all offences
+	A guard of patience: stay a little while.
+
+THERSITES	How the devil Luxury, with his fat rump and
+	potato-finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry!
+
+DIOMEDES	But will you, then?
+
+CRESSIDA	In faith, I will, la; never trust me else.
+
+DIOMEDES	Give me some token for the surety of it.
+
+CRESSIDA	I'll fetch you one.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ULYSSES	You have sworn patience.
+
+TROILUS	Fear me not, sweet lord;
+	I will not be myself, nor have cognition
+	Of what I feel: I am all patience.
+
+	[Re-enter CRESSIDA]
+
+THERSITES	Now the pledge; now, now, now!
+
+CRESSIDA	Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve.
+
+TROILUS	O beauty! where is thy faith?
+
+ULYSSES	My lord,--
+
+TROILUS	I will be patient; outwardly I will.
+
+CRESSIDA	You look upon that sleeve; behold it well.
+	He loved me--O false wench!--Give't me again.
+
+DIOMEDES	Whose was't?
+
+CRESSIDA	It is no matter, now I have't again.
+	I will not meet with you to-morrow night:
+	I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more.
+
+THERSITES	Now she sharpens: well said, whetstone!
+
+DIOMEDES	I shall have it.
+
+CRESSIDA	                  What, this?
+
+DIOMEDES	Ay, that.
+
+CRESSIDA	O, all you gods! O pretty, pretty pledge!
+	Thy master now lies thinking in his bed
+	Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove,
+	And gives memorial dainty kisses to it,
+	As I kiss thee. Nay, do not snatch it from me;
+	He that takes that doth take my heart withal.
+
+DIOMEDES	I had your heart before, this follows it.
+
+TROILUS	I did swear patience.
+
+CRESSIDA	You shall not have it, Diomed; faith, you shall not;
+	I'll give you something else.
+
+DIOMEDES	I will have this: whose was it?
+
+CRESSIDA	It is no matter.
+
+DIOMEDES	Come, tell me whose it was.
+
+CRESSIDA	'Twas one's that loved me better than you will.
+	But, now you have it, take it.
+
+DIOMEDES	Whose was it?
+
+CRESSIDA	By all Diana's waiting-women yond,
+	And by herself, I will not tell you whose.
+
+DIOMEDES	To-morrow will I wear it on my helm,
+	And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it.
+
+TROILUS	Wert thou the devil, and worest it on thy horn,
+	It should be challenged.
+
+CRESSIDA	Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past: and yet it is not;
+	I will not keep my word.
+
+DIOMEDES	Why, then, farewell;
+	Thou never shalt mock Diomed again.
+
+CRESSIDA	You shall not go: one cannot speak a word,
+	But it straight starts you.
+
+DIOMEDES	I do not like this fooling.
+
+THERSITES	Nor I, by Pluto: but that that likes not you pleases me best.
+
+DIOMEDES	What, shall I come? the hour?
+
+CRESSIDA	Ay, come:--O Jove!--do come:--I shall be plagued.
+
+DIOMEDES	Farewell till then.
+
+CRESSIDA	Good night: I prithee, come.
+
+	[Exit DIOMEDES]
+
+	Troilus, farewell! one eye yet looks on thee
+	But with my heart the other eye doth see.
+	Ah, poor our sex! this fault in us I find,
+	The error of our eye directs our mind:
+	What error leads must err; O, then conclude
+	Minds sway'd by eyes are full of turpitude.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+THERSITES	A proof of strength she could not publish more,
+	Unless she said ' My mind is now turn'd whore.'
+
+ULYSSES	All's done, my lord.
+
+TROILUS	It is.
+
+ULYSSES	Why stay we, then?
+
+TROILUS	To make a recordation to my soul
+	Of every syllable that here was spoke.
+	But if I tell how these two did co-act,
+	Shall I not lie in publishing a truth?
+	Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,
+	An esperance so obstinately strong,
+	That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears,
+	As if those organs had deceptious functions,
+	Created only to calumniate.
+	Was Cressid here?
+
+ULYSSES	                  I cannot conjure, Trojan.
+
+TROILUS	She was not, sure.
+
+ULYSSES	                  Most sure she was.
+
+TROILUS	Why, my negation hath no taste of madness.
+
+ULYSSES	Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now.
+
+TROILUS	Let it not be believed for womanhood!
+	Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage
+	To stubborn critics, apt, without a theme,
+	For depravation, to square the general sex
+	By Cressid's rule: rather think this not Cressid.
+
+ULYSSES	What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers?
+
+TROILUS	Nothing at all, unless that this were she.
+
+THERSITES	Will he swagger himself out on's own eyes?
+
+TROILUS	This she? no, this is Diomed's Cressida:
+	If beauty have a soul, this is not she;
+	If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies,
+	If sanctimony be the gods' delight,
+	If there be rule in unity itself,
+	This is not she. O madness of discourse,
+	That cause sets up with and against itself!
+	Bi-fold authority! where reason can revolt
+	Without perdition, and loss assume all reason
+	Without revolt: this is, and is not, Cressid.
+	Within my soul there doth conduce a fight
+	Of this strange nature that a thing inseparate
+	Divides more wider than the sky and earth,
+	And yet the spacious breadth of this division
+	Admits no orifex for a point as subtle
+	As Ariachne's broken woof to enter.
+	Instance, O instance! strong as Pluto's gates;
+	Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven:
+	Instance, O instance! strong as heaven itself;
+	The bonds of heaven are slipp'd, dissolved, and loosed;
+	And with another knot, five-finger-tied,
+	The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
+	The fragments, scraps, the bits and greasy relics
+	Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed.
+
+ULYSSES	May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
+	With that which here his passion doth express?
+
+TROILUS	Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well
+	In characters as red as Mars his heart
+	Inflamed with Venus: never did young man fancy
+	With so eternal and so fix'd a soul.
+	Hark, Greek: as much as I do Cressid love,
+	So much by weight hate I her Diomed:
+	That sleeve is mine that he'll bear on his helm;
+	Were it a casque composed by Vulcan's skill,
+	My sword should bite it: not the dreadful spout
+	Which shipmen do the hurricano call,
+	Constringed in mass by the almighty sun,
+	Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear
+	In his descent than shall my prompted sword
+	Falling on Diomed.
+
+THERSITES	He'll tickle it for his concupy.
+
+TROILUS	O Cressid! O false Cressid! false, false, false!
+	Let all untruths stand by thy stained name,
+	And they'll seem glorious.
+
+ULYSSES	O, contain yourself
+	Your passion draws ears hither.
+
+	[Enter AENEAS]
+
+AENEAS	I have been seeking you this hour, my lord:
+	Hector, by this, is arming him in Troy;
+	Ajax, your guard, stays to conduct you home.
+
+
+TROILUS	Have with you, prince. My courteous lord, adieu.
+	Farewell, revolted fair! and, Diomed,
+	Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head!
+
+ULYSSES	I'll bring you to the gates.
+
+TROILUS	Accept distracted thanks.
+
+	[Exeunt TROILUS, AENEAS, and ULYSSES]
+
+THERSITES	Would I could meet that rogue Diomed! I would
+	croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode.
+	Patroclus will give me any thing for the
+	intelligence of this whore: the parrot will not
+	do more for an almond than he for a commodious drab.
+	Lechery, lechery; still, wars and lechery; nothing
+	else holds fashion: a burning devil take them!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Troy. Before Priam's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter HECTOR and ANDROMACHE]
+
+ANDROMACHE	When was my lord so much ungently temper'd,
+	To stop his ears against admonishment?
+	Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day.
+
+HECTOR	You train me to offend you; get you in:
+	By all the everlasting gods, I'll go!
+
+ANDROMACHE	My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the day.
+
+HECTOR	No more, I say.
+
+	[Enter CASSANDRA]
+
+CASSANDRA	                  Where is my brother Hector?
+
+ANDROMACHE	Here, sister; arm'd, and bloody in intent.
+	Consort with me in loud and dear petition,
+	Pursue we him on knees; for I have dream'd
+	Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night
+	Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of slaughter.
+
+CASSANDRA	O, 'tis true.
+
+HECTOR	                  Ho! bid my trumpet sound!
+
+CASSANDRA	No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother.
+
+HECTOR	Be gone, I say: the gods have heard me swear.
+
+CASSANDRA	The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows:
+	They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd
+	Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
+
+ANDROMACHE	O, be persuaded! do not count it holy
+	To hurt by being just: it is as lawful,
+	For we would give much, to use violent thefts,
+	And rob in the behalf of charity.
+
+CASSANDRA	It is the purpose that makes strong the vow;
+	But vows to every purpose must not hold:
+	Unarm, sweet Hector.
+
+HECTOR	Hold you still, I say;
+	Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate:
+	Lie every man holds dear; but the brave man
+	Holds honour far more precious-dear than life.
+
+	[Enter TROILUS]
+
+	How now, young man! mean'st thou to fight to-day?
+
+ANDROMACHE	Cassandra, call my father to persuade.
+
+	[Exit CASSANDRA]
+
+HECTOR	No, faith, young Troilus; doff thy harness, youth;
+	I am to-day i' the vein of chivalry:
+	Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong,
+	And tempt not yet the brushes of the war.
+	Unarm thee, go, and doubt thou not, brave boy,
+	I'll stand to-day for thee and me and Troy.
+
+TROILUS	Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you,
+	Which better fits a lion than a man.
+
+HECTOR	What vice is that, good Troilus? chide me for it.
+
+TROILUS	When many times the captive Grecian falls,
+	Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword,
+	You bid them rise, and live.
+
+HECTOR	O,'tis fair play.
+
+TROILUS	                  Fool's play, by heaven, Hector.
+
+HECTOR	How now! how now!
+
+TROILUS	                  For the love of all the gods,
+	Let's leave the hermit pity with our mothers,
+	And when we have our armours buckled on,
+	The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords,
+	Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth.
+
+HECTOR	Fie, savage, fie!
+
+TROILUS	                  Hector, then 'tis wars.
+
+HECTOR	Troilus, I would not have you fight to-day.
+
+TROILUS	Who should withhold me?
+	Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars
+	Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire;
+	Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees,
+	Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of tears;
+	Not you, my brother, with your true sword drawn,
+	Opposed to hinder me, should stop my way,
+	But by my ruin.
+
+	[Re-enter CASSANDRA, with PRIAM]
+
+CASSANDRA	Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him fast:
+	He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay,
+	Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee,
+	Fall all together.
+
+PRIAM	                  Come, Hector, come, go back:
+	Thy wife hath dream'd; thy mother hath had visions;
+	Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself
+	Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt
+	To tell thee that this day is ominous:
+	Therefore, come back.
+
+HECTOR	AEneas is a-field;
+	And I do stand engaged to many Greeks,
+	Even in the faith of valour, to appear
+	This morning to them.
+
+PRIAM	Ay, but thou shalt not go.
+
+HECTOR	I must not break my faith.
+	You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir,
+	Let me not shame respect; but give me leave
+	To take that course by your consent and voice,
+	Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam.
+
+CASSANDRA	O Priam, yield not to him!
+
+ANDROMACHE	Do not, dear father.
+
+HECTOR	Andromache, I am offended with you:
+	Upon the love you bear me, get you in.
+
+	[Exit ANDROMACHE]
+
+TROILUS	This foolish, dreaming, superstitious girl
+	Makes all these bodements.
+
+CASSANDRA	O, farewell, dear Hector!
+	Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye turns pale!
+	Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents!
+	Hark, how Troy roars! how Hecuba cries out!
+	How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth!
+	Behold, distraction, frenzy and amazement,
+	Like witless antics, one another meet,
+	And all cry, Hector! Hector's dead! O Hector!
+
+TROILUS	Away! away!
+
+CASSANDRA	Farewell: yet, soft! Hector! take my leave:
+	Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HECTOR	You are amazed, my liege, at her exclaim:
+	Go in and cheer the town: we'll forth and fight,
+	Do deeds worth praise and tell you them at night.
+
+PRIAM	Farewell: the gods with safety stand about thee!
+
+	[Exeunt severally PRIAM and HECTOR. Alarums]
+
+TROILUS	They are at it, hark! Proud Diomed, believe,
+	I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve.
+
+	[Enter PANDARUS]
+
+PANDARUS	Do you hear, my lord? do you hear?
+
+TROILUS	What now?
+
+PANDARUS	Here's a letter come from yond poor girl.
+
+TROILUS	Let me read.
+
+PANDARUS	A whoreson tisick, a whoreson rascally tisick so
+	troubles me, and the foolish fortune of this girl;
+	and what one thing, what another, that I shall
+	leave you one o' these days: and I have a rheum
+	in mine eyes too, and such an ache in my bones
+	that, unless a man were cursed, I cannot tell what
+	to think on't. What says she there?
+
+TROILUS	Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart:
+	The effect doth operate another way.
+
+	[Tearing the letter]
+
+	Go, wind, to wind, there turn and change together.
+	My love with words and errors still she feeds;
+	But edifies another with her deeds.
+
+	[Exeunt severally]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Plains between Troy and the Grecian camp.
+
+
+	[Alarums: excursions. Enter THERSITES]
+
+THERSITES	Now they are clapper-clawing one another; I'll go
+	look on. That dissembling abominable varlets Diomed,
+	has got that same scurvy doting foolish young knave's
+	sleeve of Troy there in his helm: I would fain see
+	them meet; that that same young Trojan ass, that
+	loves the whore there, might send that Greekish
+	whore-masterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the
+	dissembling luxurious drab, of a sleeveless errand.
+	O' the t'other side, the policy of those crafty
+	swearing rascals, that stale old mouse-eaten dry
+	cheese, Nestor, and that same dog-fox, Ulysses, is
+	not proved worthy a blackberry: they set me up, in
+	policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax, against that dog of
+	as bad a kind, Achilles: and now is the cur Ajax
+	prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm
+	to-day; whereupon the Grecians begin to proclaim
+	barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion.
+	Soft! here comes sleeve, and t'other.
+
+	[Enter DIOMEDES, TROILUS following]
+
+TROILUS	Fly not; for shouldst thou take the river Styx,
+	I would swim after.
+
+DIOMEDES	Thou dost miscall retire:
+	I do not fly, but advantageous care
+	Withdrew me from the odds of multitude:
+	Have at thee!
+
+THERSITES	Hold thy whore, Grecian!--now for thy whore,
+	Trojan!--now the sleeve, now the sleeve!
+
+	[Exeunt TROILUS and DIOMEDES, fighting]
+
+	[Enter HECTOR]
+
+HECTOR	What art thou, Greek? art thou for Hector's match?
+	Art thou of blood and honour?
+
+THERSITES	No, no, I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave:
+	a very filthy rogue.
+
+HECTOR	I do believe thee: live.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+THERSITES	God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but a
+	plague break thy neck for frightening me! What's
+	become of the wenching rogues? I think they have
+	swallowed one another: I would laugh at that
+	miracle: yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself.
+	I'll seek them.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another part of the plains.
+
+
+	[Enter DIOMEDES and a Servant]
+
+DIOMEDES	Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus' horse;
+	Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid:
+	Fellow, commend my service to her beauty;
+	Tell her I have chastised the amorous Trojan,
+	And am her knight by proof.
+
+Servant	I go, my lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter AGAMEMNON]
+
+AGAMEMNON	Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamas
+	Hath beat down Menon: bastard Margarelon
+	Hath Doreus prisoner,
+	And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam,
+	Upon the pashed corses of the kings
+	Epistrophus and Cedius: Polyxenes is slain,
+	Amphimachus and Thoas deadly hurt,
+	Patroclus ta'en or slain, and Palamedes
+	Sore hurt and bruised: the dreadful Sagittary
+	Appals our numbers: haste we, Diomed,
+	To reinforcement, or we perish all.
+
+	[Enter NESTOR]
+
+NESTOR	Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles;
+	And bid the snail-paced Ajax arm for shame.
+	There is a thousand Hectors in the field:
+	Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,
+	And there lacks work; anon he's there afoot,
+	And there they fly or die, like scaled sculls
+	Before the belching whale; then is he yonder,
+	And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge,
+	Fall down before him, like the mower's swath:
+	Here, there, and every where, he leaves and takes,
+	Dexterity so obeying appetite
+	That what he will he does, and does so much
+	That proof is call'd impossibility.
+
+	[Enter ULYSSES]
+
+ULYSSES	O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles
+	Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:
+	Patroclus' wounds have roused his drowsy blood,
+	Together with his mangled Myrmidons,
+	That noseless, handless, hack'd and chipp'd, come to him,
+	Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend
+	And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd and at it,
+	Roaring for Troilus, who hath done to-day
+	Mad and fantastic execution,
+	Engaging and redeeming of himself
+	With such a careless force and forceless care
+	As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,
+	Bade him win all.
+
+	[Enter AJAX]
+
+AJAX	Troilus! thou coward Troilus!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DIOMEDES	Ay, there, there.
+
+NESTOR	So, so, we draw together.
+
+	[Enter ACHILLES]
+
+ACHILLES	Where is this Hector?
+	Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face;
+	Know what it is to meet Achilles angry:
+	Hector? where's Hector? I will none but Hector.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Another part of the plains.
+
+
+	[Enter AJAX]
+
+AJAX	Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head!
+
+	[Enter DIOMEDES]
+
+DIOMEDES	Troilus, I say! where's Troilus?
+
+AJAX	What wouldst thou?
+
+DIOMEDES	I would correct him.
+
+AJAX	Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office
+	Ere that correction. Troilus, I say! what, Troilus!
+
+	[Enter TROILUS]
+
+TROILUS	O traitor Diomed! turn thy false face, thou traitor,
+	And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse!
+
+DIOMEDES	Ha, art thou there?
+
+AJAX	I'll fight with him alone: stand, Diomed.
+
+DIOMEDES	He is my prize; I will not look upon.
+
+TROILUS	Come, both you cogging Greeks; have at you both!
+
+	[Exeunt, fighting]
+
+	[Enter HECTOR]
+
+HECTOR	Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest brother!
+
+	[Enter ACHILLES]
+
+ACHILLES	Now do I see thee, ha! have at thee, Hector!
+
+HECTOR	Pause, if thou wilt.
+
+ACHILLES	I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan:
+	Be happy that my arms are out of use:
+	My rest and negligence befriends thee now,
+	But thou anon shalt hear of me again;
+	Till when, go seek thy fortune.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HECTOR	Fare thee well:
+	I would have been much more a fresher man,
+	Had I expected thee. How now, my brother!
+
+	[Re-enter TROILUS]
+
+TROILUS	Ajax hath ta'en AEneas: shall it be?
+	No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,
+	He shall not carry him: I'll be ta'en too,
+	Or bring him off: fate, hear me what I say!
+	I reck not though I end my life to-day.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter one in sumptuous armour]
+
+HECTOR	Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark:
+	No? wilt thou not? I like thy armour well;
+	I'll frush it and unlock the rivets all,
+	But I'll be master of it: wilt thou not,
+	beast, abide?
+	Why, then fly on, I'll hunt thee for thy hide.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Another part of the plains.
+
+
+	[Enter ACHILLES, with Myrmidons]
+
+ACHILLES	Come here about me, you my Myrmidons;
+	Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel:
+	Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath:
+	And when I have the bloody Hector found,
+	Empale him with your weapons round about;
+	In fellest manner execute your aims.
+	Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye:
+	It is decreed Hector the great must die.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Enter MENELAUS and PARIS, fighting:
+	then THERSITES]
+
+THERSITES	The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it. Now,
+	bull! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! now my double-
+	henned sparrow! 'loo, Paris, 'loo! The bull has the
+	game: ware horns, ho!
+
+	[Exeunt PARIS and MENELAUS]
+
+	[Enter MARGARELON]
+
+MARGARELON	Turn, slave, and fight.
+
+THERSITES	What art thou?
+
+MARGARELON	A bastard son of Priam's.
+
+THERSITES	I am a bastard too; I love bastards: I am a bastard
+	begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard
+	in valour, in every thing illegitimate. One bear will
+	not bite another, and wherefore should one bastard?
+	Take heed, the quarrel's most ominous to us: if the
+	son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment:
+	farewell, bastard.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MARGARELON	The devil take thee, coward!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII	Another part of the plains.
+
+
+	[Enter HECTOR]
+
+HECTOR	Most putrefied core, so fair without,
+	Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.
+	Now is my day's work done; I'll take good breath:
+	Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death.
+
+	[Puts off his helmet and hangs his shield
+	behind him]
+
+	[Enter ACHILLES and Myrmidons]
+
+ACHILLES	Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;
+	How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:
+	Even with the vail and darking of the sun,
+	To close the day up, Hector's life is done.
+
+HECTOR	I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek.
+
+ACHILLES	Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek.
+
+	[HECTOR falls]
+
+	So, Ilion, fall thou next! now, Troy, sink down!
+	Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.
+	On, Myrmidons, and cry you all amain,
+	'Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.'
+
+	[A retreat sounded]
+
+	Hark! a retire upon our Grecian part.
+
+MYRMIDONS	The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord.
+
+ACHILLES	The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth,
+	And, stickler-like, the armies separates.
+	My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have fed,
+	Pleased with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed.
+
+	[Sheathes his sword]
+
+	Come, tie his body to my horse's tail;
+	Along the field I will the Trojan trail.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IX	Another part of the plains.
+
+
+	[Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR, DIOMEDES,
+	and others, marching. Shouts within]
+
+AGAMEMNON	Hark! hark! what shout is that?
+
+NESTOR	Peace, drums!
+
+	[Within]
+
+	Achilles! Achilles! Hector's slain! Achilles.
+
+DIOMEDES	The bruit is, Hector's slain, and by Achilles.
+
+AJAX	If it be so, yet bragless let it be;
+	Great Hector was a man as good as he.
+
+AGAMEMNON	March patiently along: let one be sent
+	To pray Achilles see us at our tent.
+	If in his death the gods have us befriended,
+	Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended.
+
+	[Exeunt, marching]
+
+
+
+
+	TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE X	Another part of the plains.
+
+
+	[Enter AENEAS and Trojans]
+
+AENEAS	Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field:
+	Never go home; here starve we out the night.
+
+	[Enter TROILUS]
+
+TROILUS	Hector is slain.
+
+ALL	                  Hector! the gods forbid!
+
+TROILUS	He's dead; and at the murderer's horse's tail,
+	In beastly sort, dragg'd through the shameful field.
+	Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with speed!
+	Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy!
+	I say, at once let your brief plagues be mercy,
+	And linger not our sure destructions on!
+
+AENEAS	My lord, you do discomfort all the host!
+
+TROILUS	You understand me not that tell me so:
+	I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death,
+	But dare all imminence that gods and men
+	Address their dangers in. Hector is gone:
+	Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba?
+	Let him that will a screech-owl aye be call'd,
+	Go in to Troy, and say there, Hector's dead:
+	There is a word will Priam turn to stone;
+	Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives,
+	Cold statues of the youth, and, in a word,
+	Scare Troy out of itself. But, march away:
+	Hector is dead; there is no more to say.
+	Stay yet. You vile abominable tents,
+	Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains,
+	Let Titan rise as early as he dare,
+	I'll through and through you! and, thou great-sized coward,
+	No space of earth shall sunder our two hates:
+	I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,
+	That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy's thoughts.
+	Strike a free march to Troy! with comfort go:
+	Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.
+
+	[Exeunt AENEAS and Trojans]
+
+	[As TROILUS is going out, enter, from the other
+	side, PANDARUS]
+
+PANDARUS	But hear you, hear you!
+
+TROILUS	Hence, broker-lackey! ignomy and shame
+	Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PANDARUS	A goodly medicine for my aching bones! O world!
+	world! world! thus is the poor agent despised!
+	O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set
+	a-work, and how ill requited! why should our
+	endeavour be so loved and the performance so loathed?
+	what verse for it? what instance for it? Let me see:
+	Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing,
+	Till he hath lost his honey and his sting;
+	And being once subdued in armed tail,
+	Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.
+	Good traders in the flesh, set this in your
+	painted cloths.
+	As many as be here of pander's hall,
+	Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall;
+	Or if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,
+	Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.
+	Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade,
+	Some two months hence my will shall here be made:
+	It should be now, but that my fear is this,
+	Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss:
+	Till then I'll sweat and seek about for eases,
+	And at that time bequeathe you my diseases.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+ORSINO	Duke of Illyria. (DUKE ORSINO:)
+
+SEBASTIAN	brother to Viola.
+
+ANTONIO	a sea captain, friend to Sebastian.
+
+	A Sea Captain, friend to Viola. (Captain:)
+
+
+VALENTINE	|
+	|  gentlemen attending on the Duke.
+CURIO	|
+
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	uncle to Olivia.
+
+SIR ANDREW
+AGUECHEEK	(SIR ANDREW:)
+
+MALVOLIO	steward to Olivia.
+
+
+FABIAN		|
+		|  servants to Olivia.
+FESTE	a Clown  (Clown:)	|
+
+
+OLIVIA:
+
+VIOLA:
+
+MARIA	Olivia's woman.
+
+	Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians,
+	and other Attendants.
+	(Priest:)
+	(First Officer:)
+	(Second Officer:)
+	(Servant:)
+
+
+SCENE	A city in Illyria, and the sea-coast near it.
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	DUKE ORSINO's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE ORSINO, CURIO, and other Lords;
+	Musicians attending]
+
+DUKE ORSINO	If music be the food of love, play on;
+	Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
+	The appetite may sicken, and so die.
+	That strain again! it had a dying fall:
+	O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,
+	That breathes upon a bank of violets,
+	Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:
+	'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
+	O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,
+	That, notwithstanding thy capacity
+	Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
+	Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
+	But falls into abatement and low price,
+	Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy
+	That it alone is high fantastical.
+
+CURIO	Will you go hunt, my lord?
+
+DUKE ORSINO	What, Curio?
+
+CURIO	The hart.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	        Why, so I do, the noblest that I have:
+	O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
+	Methought she purged the air of pestilence!
+	That instant was I turn'd into a hart;
+	And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
+	E'er since pursue me.
+
+	[Enter VALENTINE]
+
+		How now! what news from her?
+
+VALENTINE	So please my lord, I might not be admitted;
+	But from her handmaid do return this answer:
+	The element itself, till seven years' heat,
+	Shall not behold her face at ample view;
+	But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk
+	And water once a day her chamber round
+	With eye-offending brine: all this to season
+	A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh
+	And lasting in her sad remembrance.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame
+	To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
+	How will she love, when the rich golden shaft
+	Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else
+	That live in her; when liver, brain and heart,
+	These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd
+	Her sweet perfections with one self king!
+	Away before me to sweet beds of flowers:
+	Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The sea-coast.
+
+
+	[Enter VIOLA, a Captain, and Sailors]
+
+VIOLA	What country, friends, is this?
+
+Captain	This is Illyria, lady.
+
+VIOLA	And what should I do in Illyria?
+	My brother he is in Elysium.
+	Perchance he is not drown'd: what think you, sailors?
+
+Captain	It is perchance that you yourself were saved.
+
+VIOLA	O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.
+
+Captain	True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,
+	Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
+	When you and those poor number saved with you
+	Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
+	Most provident in peril, bind himself,
+	Courage and hope both teaching him the practise,
+	To a strong mast that lived upon the sea;
+	Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
+	I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves
+	So long as I could see.
+
+VIOLA	For saying so, there's gold:
+	Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
+	Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
+	The like of him. Know'st thou this country?
+
+Captain	Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born
+	Not three hours' travel from this very place.
+
+VIOLA	Who governs here?
+
+Captain	A noble duke, in nature as in name.
+
+VIOLA	What is the name?
+
+Captain	Orsino.
+
+VIOLA	Orsino! I have heard my father name him:
+	He was a bachelor then.
+
+Captain	And so is now, or was so very late;
+	For but a month ago I went from hence,
+	And then 'twas fresh in murmur,--as, you know,
+	What great ones do the less will prattle of,--
+	That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.
+
+VIOLA	What's she?
+
+Captain	A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
+	That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her
+	In the protection of his son, her brother,
+	Who shortly also died: for whose dear love,
+	They say, she hath abjured the company
+	And sight of men.
+
+VIOLA	                  O that I served that lady
+	And might not be delivered to the world,
+	Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
+	What my estate is!
+
+Captain	That were hard to compass;
+	Because she will admit no kind of suit,
+	No, not the duke's.
+
+VIOLA	There is a fair behavior in thee, captain;
+	And though that nature with a beauteous wall
+	Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
+	I will believe thou hast a mind that suits
+	With this thy fair and outward character.
+	I prithee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
+	Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
+	For such disguise as haply shall become
+	The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke:
+	Thou shall present me as an eunuch to him:
+	It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing
+	And speak to him in many sorts of music
+	That will allow me very worth his service.
+	What else may hap to time I will commit;
+	Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
+
+Captain	Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be:
+	When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.
+
+VIOLA	I thank thee: lead me on.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	OLIVIA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	What a plague means my niece, to take the death of
+	her brother thus? I am sure care's an enemy to life.
+
+MARIA	By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o'
+	nights: your cousin, my lady, takes great
+	exceptions to your ill hours.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Why, let her except, before excepted.
+
+MARIA	Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest
+	limits of order.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Confine! I'll confine myself no finer than I am:
+	these clothes are good enough to drink in; and so be
+	these boots too: an they be not, let them hang
+	themselves in their own straps.
+
+MARIA	That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I heard
+	my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish
+	knight that you brought in one night here to be her wooer.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?
+
+MARIA	Ay, he.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
+
+MARIA	What's that to the purpose?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.
+
+MARIA	Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats:
+	he's a very fool and a prodigal.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o' the
+	viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages
+	word for word without book, and hath all the good
+	gifts of nature.
+
+MARIA	He hath indeed, almost natural: for besides that
+	he's a fool, he's a great quarreller: and but that
+	he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he
+	hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent
+	he would quickly have the gift of a grave.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	By this hand, they are scoundrels and subtractors
+	that say so of him. Who are they?
+
+MARIA	They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	With drinking healths to my niece: I'll drink to
+	her as long as there is a passage in my throat and
+	drink in Illyria: he's a coward and a coystrill
+	that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn
+	o' the toe like a parish-top. What, wench!
+	Castiliano vulgo! for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface.
+
+	[Enter SIR ANDREW]
+
+SIR ANDREW	Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Sweet Sir Andrew!
+
+SIR ANDREW	Bless you, fair shrew.
+
+MARIA	And you too, sir.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.
+
+SIR ANDREW	What's that?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	My niece's chambermaid.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.
+
+MARIA	My name is Mary, sir.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Good Mistress Mary Accost,--
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	You mistake, knight; 'accost' is front her, board
+	her, woo her, assail her.
+
+SIR ANDREW	By my troth, I would not undertake her in this
+	company. Is that the meaning of 'accost'?
+
+MARIA	Fare you well, gentlemen.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst
+	never draw sword again.
+
+SIR ANDREW	An you part so, mistress, I would I might never
+	draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have
+	fools in hand?
+
+MARIA	Sir, I have not you by the hand.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Marry, but you shall have; and here's my hand.
+
+MARIA	Now, sir, 'thought is free:' I pray you, bring
+	your hand to the buttery-bar and let it drink.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Wherefore, sweet-heart? what's your metaphor?
+
+MARIA	It's dry, sir.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Why, I think so: I am not such an ass but I can
+	keep my hand dry. But what's your jest?
+
+MARIA	A dry jest, sir.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Are you full of them?
+
+MARIA	Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends: marry,
+	now I let go your hand, I am barren.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	O knight thou lackest a cup of canary: when did I
+	see thee so put down?
+
+SIR ANDREW	Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary
+	put me down. Methinks sometimes I have no more wit
+	than a Christian or an ordinary man has: but I am a
+	great eater of beef and I believe that does harm to my wit.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	No question.
+
+SIR ANDREW	An I thought that, I'ld forswear it. I'll ride home
+	to-morrow, Sir Toby.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Pourquoi, my dear knight?
+
+SIR ANDREW	What is 'Pourquoi'? do or not do? I would I had
+	bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in
+	fencing, dancing and bear-baiting: O, had I but
+	followed the arts!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Why, would that have mended my hair?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature.
+
+SIR ANDREW	But it becomes me well enough, does't not?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I
+	hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs
+	and spin it off.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: your niece
+	will not be seen; or if she be, it's four to one
+	she'll none of me: the count himself here hard by woos her.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	She'll none o' the count: she'll not match above
+	her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I
+	have heard her swear't. Tut, there's life in't,
+	man.
+
+SIR ANDREW	I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' the
+	strangest mind i' the world; I delight in masques
+	and revels sometimes altogether.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?
+
+SIR ANDREW	As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the
+	degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare
+	with an old man.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?
+
+SIR ANDREW	Faith, I can cut a caper.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	And I can cut the mutton to't.
+
+SIR ANDREW	And I think I have the back-trick simply as strong
+	as any man in Illyria.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have
+	these gifts a curtain before 'em? are they like to
+	take dust, like Mistress Mall's picture? why dost
+	thou not go to church in a galliard and come home in
+	a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not
+	so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace. What
+	dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues in?
+	I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy
+	leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a
+	flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus?
+
+SIR ANDREW	Taurus! That's sides and heart.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see the
+	caper; ha! higher: ha, ha! excellent!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	DUKE ORSINO's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter VALENTINE and VIOLA in man's attire]
+
+VALENTINE	If the duke continue these favours towards you,
+	Cesario, you are like to be much advanced: he hath
+	known you but three days, and already you are no stranger.
+
+VIOLA	You either fear his humour or my negligence, that
+	you call in question the continuance of his love:
+	is he inconstant, sir, in his favours?
+
+VALENTINE	No, believe me.
+
+VIOLA	I thank you. Here comes the count.
+
+	[Enter DUKE ORSINO, CURIO, and Attendants]
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Who saw Cesario, ho?
+
+VIOLA	On your attendance, my lord; here.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Stand you a while aloof, Cesario,
+	Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd
+	To thee the book even of my secret soul:
+	Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her;
+	Be not denied access, stand at her doors,
+	And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow
+	Till thou have audience.
+
+VIOLA	Sure, my noble lord,
+	If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
+	As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds
+	Rather than make unprofited return.
+
+VIOLA	Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?
+
+DUKE ORSINO	O, then unfold the passion of my love,
+	Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith:
+	It shall become thee well to act my woes;
+	She will attend it better in thy youth
+	Than in a nuncio's of more grave aspect.
+
+VIOLA	I think not so, my lord.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Dear lad, believe it;
+	For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
+	That say thou art a man: Diana's lip
+	Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe
+	Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound,
+	And all is semblative a woman's part.
+	I know thy constellation is right apt
+	For this affair. Some four or five attend him;
+	All, if you will; for I myself am best
+	When least in company. Prosper well in this,
+	And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
+	To call his fortunes thine.
+
+VIOLA	I'll do my best
+	To woo your lady:
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	yet, a barful strife!
+	Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE V	OLIVIA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter MARIA and Clown]
+
+MARIA	Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will
+	not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in
+	way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.
+
+Clown	Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this
+	world needs to fear no colours.
+
+MARIA	Make that good.
+
+Clown	He shall see none to fear.
+
+MARIA	A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that
+	saying was born, of 'I fear no colours.'
+
+Clown	Where, good Mistress Mary?
+
+MARIA	In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.
+
+Clown	Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those
+	that are fools, let them use their talents.
+
+MARIA	Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; or,
+	to be turned away, is not that as good as a hanging to you?
+
+Clown	Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and,
+	for turning away, let summer bear it out.
+
+MARIA	You are resolute, then?
+
+Clown	Not so, neither; but I am resolved on two points.
+
+MARIA	That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both
+	break, your gaskins fall.
+
+Clown	Apt, in good faith; very apt. Well, go thy way; if
+	Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a
+	piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.
+
+MARIA	Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here comes my
+	lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Clown	Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling!
+	Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft
+	prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may
+	pass for a wise man: for what says Quinapalus?
+	'Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.'
+
+	[Enter OLIVIA with MALVOLIO]
+
+	God bless thee, lady!
+
+OLIVIA	Take the fool away.
+
+Clown	Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.
+
+OLIVIA	Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you:
+	besides, you grow dishonest.
+
+Clown	Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel
+	will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is
+	the fool not dry: bid the dishonest man mend
+	himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if
+	he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing
+	that's mended is but patched: virtue that
+	transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that
+	amends is but patched with virtue. If that this
+	simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not,
+	what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but
+	calamity, so beauty's a flower. The lady bade take
+	away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.
+
+OLIVIA	Sir, I bade them take away you.
+
+Clown	Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non
+	facit monachum; that's as much to say as I wear not
+	motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to
+	prove you a fool.
+
+OLIVIA	Can you do it?
+
+Clown	Dexterously, good madonna.
+
+OLIVIA	Make your proof.
+
+Clown	I must catechise you for it, madonna: good my mouse
+	of virtue, answer me.
+
+OLIVIA	Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.
+
+Clown	Good madonna, why mournest thou?
+
+OLIVIA	Good fool, for my brother's death.
+
+Clown	I think his soul is in hell, madonna.
+
+OLIVIA	I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
+
+Clown	The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's
+	soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.
+
+OLIVIA	What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend?
+
+MALVOLIO	Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake him:
+	infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the
+	better fool.
+
+Clown	God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the
+	better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be
+	sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass his
+	word for two pence that you are no fool.
+
+OLIVIA	How say you to that, Malvolio?
+
+MALVOLIO	I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a
+	barren rascal: I saw him put down the other day
+	with an ordinary fool that has no more brain
+	than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard
+	already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to
+	him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise men,
+	that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better
+	than the fools' zanies.
+
+OLIVIA	Oh, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste
+	with a distempered appetite. To be generous,
+	guiltless and of free disposition, is to take those
+	things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets:
+	there is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do
+	nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet
+	man, though he do nothing but reprove.
+
+Clown	Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou
+	speakest well of fools!
+
+	[Re-enter MARIA]
+
+MARIA	Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much
+	desires to speak with you.
+
+OLIVIA	From the Count Orsino, is it?
+
+MARIA	I know not, madam: 'tis a fair young man, and well attended.
+
+OLIVIA	Who of my people hold him in delay?
+
+MARIA	Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.
+
+OLIVIA	Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but
+	madman: fie on him!
+
+	[Exit MARIA]
+
+	Go you, Malvolio: if it be a suit from the count, I
+	am sick, or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it.
+
+	[Exit MALVOLIO]
+
+	Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and
+	people dislike it.
+
+Clown	Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest
+	son should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with
+	brains! for,--here he comes,--one of thy kin has a
+	most weak pia mater.
+
+	[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH]
+
+OLIVIA	By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the gate, cousin?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	A gentleman.
+
+OLIVIA	A gentleman! what gentleman?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	'Tis a gentle man here--a plague o' these
+	pickle-herring! How now, sot!
+
+Clown	Good Sir Toby!
+
+OLIVIA	Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Lechery! I defy lechery. There's one at the gate.
+
+OLIVIA	Ay, marry, what is he?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not: give
+	me faith, say I. Well, it's all one.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OLIVIA	What's a drunken man like, fool?
+
+Clown	Like a drowned man, a fool and a mad man: one
+	draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads
+	him; and a third drowns him.
+
+OLIVIA	Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o' my
+	coz; for he's in the third degree of drink, he's
+	drowned: go, look after him.
+
+Clown	He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool shall look
+	to the madman.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter MALVOLIO]
+
+MALVOLIO	Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak with
+	you. I told him you were sick; he takes on him to
+	understand so much, and therefore comes to speak
+	with you. I told him you were asleep; he seems to
+	have a foreknowledge of that too, and therefore
+	comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him,
+	lady? he's fortified against any denial.
+
+OLIVIA	Tell him he shall not speak with me.
+
+MALVOLIO	Has been told so; and he says, he'll stand at your
+	door like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter to
+	a bench, but he'll speak with you.
+
+OLIVIA	What kind o' man is he?
+
+MALVOLIO	Why, of mankind.
+
+OLIVIA	What manner of man?
+
+MALVOLIO	Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will you or no.
+
+OLIVIA	Of what personage and years is he?
+
+MALVOLIO	Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for
+	a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a
+	cooling when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis with him
+	in standing water, between boy and man. He is very
+	well-favoured and he speaks very shrewishly; one
+	would think his mother's milk were scarce out of him.
+
+OLIVIA	Let him approach: call in my gentlewoman.
+
+MALVOLIO	Gentlewoman, my lady calls.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter MARIA]
+
+OLIVIA	Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face.
+	We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.
+
+	[Enter VIOLA, and Attendants]
+
+VIOLA	The honourable lady of the house, which is she?
+
+OLIVIA	Speak to me; I shall answer for her.
+	Your will?
+
+VIOLA	Most radiant, exquisite and unmatchable beauty,--I
+	pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the house,
+	for I never saw her: I would be loath to cast away
+	my speech, for besides that it is excellently well
+	penned, I have taken great pains to con it. Good
+	beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very
+	comptible, even to the least sinister usage.
+
+OLIVIA	Whence came you, sir?
+
+VIOLA	I can say little more than I have studied, and that
+	question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me
+	modest assurance if you be the lady of the house,
+	that I may proceed in my speech.
+
+OLIVIA	Are you a comedian?
+
+VIOLA	No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very fangs
+	of malice I swear, I am not that I play. Are you
+	the lady of the house?
+
+OLIVIA	If I do not usurp myself, I am.
+
+VIOLA	Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp
+	yourself; for what is yours to bestow is not yours
+	to reserve. But this is from my commission: I will
+	on with my speech in your praise, and then show you
+	the heart of my message.
+
+OLIVIA	Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the praise.
+
+VIOLA	Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical.
+
+OLIVIA	It is the more like to be feigned: I pray you,
+	keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates,
+	and allowed your approach rather to wonder at you
+	than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if
+	you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of
+	moon with me to make one in so skipping a dialogue.
+
+MARIA	Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way.
+
+VIOLA	No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little
+	longer. Some mollification for your giant, sweet
+	lady. Tell me your mind: I am a messenger.
+
+OLIVIA	Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when
+	the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.
+
+VIOLA	It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of
+	war, no taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my
+	hand; my words are as fun of peace as matter.
+
+OLIVIA	Yet you began rudely. What are you? what would you?
+
+VIOLA	The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I
+	learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I
+	would, are as secret as maidenhead; to your ears,
+	divinity, to any other's, profanation.
+
+OLIVIA	Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity.
+
+	[Exeunt MARIA and Attendants]
+
+	Now, sir, what is your text?
+
+VIOLA	Most sweet lady,--
+
+OLIVIA	A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it.
+	Where lies your text?
+
+VIOLA	In Orsino's bosom.
+
+OLIVIA	In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?
+
+VIOLA	To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.
+
+OLIVIA	O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more to say?
+
+VIOLA	Good madam, let me see your face.
+
+OLIVIA	Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate
+	with my face? You are now out of your text: but
+	we will draw the curtain and show you the picture.
+	Look you, sir, such a one I was this present: is't
+	not well done?
+
+	[Unveiling]
+
+VIOLA	Excellently done, if God did all.
+
+OLIVIA	'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.
+
+VIOLA	'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
+	Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on:
+	Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive,
+	If you will lead these graces to the grave
+	And leave the world no copy.
+
+OLIVIA	O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give
+	out divers schedules of my beauty: it shall be
+	inventoried, and every particle and utensil
+	labelled to my will: as, item, two lips,
+	indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to
+	them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were
+	you sent hither to praise me?
+
+VIOLA	I see you what you are, you are too proud;
+	But, if you were the devil, you are fair.
+	My lord and master loves you: O, such love
+	Could be but recompensed, though you were crown'd
+	The nonpareil of beauty!
+
+OLIVIA	How does he love me?
+
+VIOLA	With adorations, fertile tears,
+	With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.
+
+OLIVIA	Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him:
+	Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
+	Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
+	In voices well divulged, free, learn'd and valiant;
+	And in dimension and the shape of nature
+	A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him;
+	He might have took his answer long ago.
+
+VIOLA	If I did love you in my master's flame,
+	With such a suffering, such a deadly life,
+	In your denial I would find no sense;
+	I would not understand it.
+
+OLIVIA	Why, what would you?
+
+VIOLA	Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
+	And call upon my soul within the house;
+	Write loyal cantons of contemned love
+	And sing them loud even in the dead of night;
+	Halloo your name to the reverberate hills
+	And make the babbling gossip of the air
+	Cry out 'Olivia!' O, You should not rest
+	Between the elements of air and earth,
+	But you should pity me!
+
+OLIVIA	You might do much.
+	What is your parentage?
+
+VIOLA	Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
+	I am a gentleman.
+
+OLIVIA	                  Get you to your lord;
+	I cannot love him: let him send no more;
+	Unless, perchance, you come to me again,
+	To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well:
+	I thank you for your pains: spend this for me.
+
+VIOLA	I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse:
+	My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
+	Love make his heart of flint that you shall love;
+	And let your fervor, like my master's, be
+	Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OLIVIA	'What is your parentage?'
+	'Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
+	I am a gentleman.' I'll be sworn thou art;
+	Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions and spirit,
+	Do give thee five-fold blazon: not too fast:
+	soft, soft!
+	Unless the master were the man. How now!
+	Even so quickly may one catch the plague?
+	Methinks I feel this youth's perfections
+	With an invisible and subtle stealth
+	To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.
+	What ho, Malvolio!
+
+	[Re-enter MALVOLIO]
+
+MALVOLIO	                  Here, madam, at your service.
+
+OLIVIA	Run after that same peevish messenger,
+	The county's man: he left this ring behind him,
+	Would I or not: tell him I'll none of it.
+	Desire him not to flatter with his lord,
+	Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him:
+	If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
+	I'll give him reasons for't: hie thee, Malvolio.
+
+MALVOLIO	Madam, I will.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OLIVIA	I do I know not what, and fear to find
+	Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
+	Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe;
+	What is decreed must be, and be this so.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The sea-coast.
+
+
+	[Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN]
+
+ANTONIO	Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you?
+
+SEBASTIAN	By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over
+	me: the malignancy of my fate might perhaps
+	distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your
+	leave that I may bear my evils alone: it were a bad
+	recompense for your love, to lay any of them on you.
+
+ANTONIO: Let me yet know of you whither you are bound.
+
+SEBASTIAN	No, sooth, sir: my determinate voyage is mere
+	extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a
+	touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me
+	what I am willing to keep in; therefore it charges
+	me in manners the rather to express myself. You
+	must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian,
+	which I called Roderigo. My father was that
+	Sebastian of Messaline, whom I know you have heard
+	of. He left behind him myself and a sister, both
+	born in an hour: if the heavens had been pleased,
+	would we had so ended! but you, sir, altered that;
+	for some hour before you took me from the breach of
+	the sea was my sister drowned.
+
+ANTONIO	Alas the day!
+
+SEBASTIAN	A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled
+	me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: but,
+	though I could not with such estimable wonder
+	overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly
+	publish her; she bore a mind that envy could not but
+	call fair. She is drowned already, sir, with salt
+	water, though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more.
+
+ANTONIO	Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment.
+
+SEBASTIAN	O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.
+
+ANTONIO	If you will not murder me for my love, let me be
+	your servant.
+
+SEBASTIAN	If you will not undo what you have done, that is,
+	kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not.
+	Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full of kindness,
+	and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that
+	upon the least occasion more mine eyes will tell
+	tales of me. I am bound to the Count Orsino's court: farewell.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ANTONIO	The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!
+	I have many enemies in Orsino's court,
+	Else would I very shortly see thee there.
+	But, come what may, I do adore thee so,
+	That danger shall seem sport, and I will go.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A street.
+
+
+	[Enter VIOLA, MALVOLIO following]
+
+MALVOLIO	Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia?
+
+VIOLA	Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since
+	arrived but hither.
+
+MALVOLIO	She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have
+	saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself.
+	She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord
+	into a desperate assurance she will none of him:
+	and one thing more, that you be never so hardy to
+	come again in his affairs, unless it be to report
+	your lord's taking of this. Receive it so.
+
+VIOLA	She took the ring of me: I'll none of it.
+
+MALVOLIO	Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her
+	will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth
+	stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be
+	it his that finds it.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+VIOLA	I left no ring with her: what means this lady?
+	Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her!
+	She made good view of me; indeed, so much,
+	That sure methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
+	For she did speak in starts distractedly.
+	She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion
+	Invites me in this churlish messenger.
+	None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none.
+	I am the man: if it be so, as 'tis,
+	Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
+	Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness,
+	Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
+	How easy is it for the proper-false
+	In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
+	Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we!
+	For such as we are made of, such we be.
+	How will this fadge? my master loves her dearly;
+	And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;
+	And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.
+	What will become of this? As I am man,
+	My state is desperate for my master's love;
+	As I am woman,--now alas the day!--
+	What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
+	O time! thou must untangle this, not I;
+	It is too hard a knot for me to untie!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	OLIVIA's house.
+
+
+	[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and SIR ANDREW]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be abed after
+	midnight is to be up betimes; and 'diluculo
+	surgere,' thou know'st,--
+
+SIR ANDREW	Nay, my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up
+	late is to be up late.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	A false conclusion: I hate it as an unfilled can.
+	To be up after midnight and to go to bed then, is
+	early: so that to go to bed after midnight is to go
+	to bed betimes. Does not our life consist of the
+	four elements?
+
+SIR ANDREW	Faith, so they say; but I think it rather consists
+	of eating and drinking.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Thou'rt a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.
+	Marian, I say! a stoup of wine!
+
+	[Enter Clown]
+
+SIR ANDREW	Here comes the fool, i' faith.
+
+Clown	How now, my hearts! did you never see the picture
+	of 'we three'?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch.
+
+SIR ANDREW	By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I
+	had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg,
+	and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In
+	sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last
+	night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the
+	Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus: 'twas
+	very good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy
+	leman: hadst it?
+
+Clown	I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose
+	is no whipstock: my lady has a white hand, and the
+	Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Excellent! why, this is the best fooling, when all
+	is done. Now, a song.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Come on; there is sixpence for you: let's have a song.
+
+SIR ANDREW	There's a testril of me too: if one knight give a--
+
+Clown	Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	A love-song, a love-song.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Ay, ay: I care not for good life.
+
+Clown	[Sings]
+
+	O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
+	O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
+	That can sing both high and low:
+	Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
+	Journeys end in lovers meeting,
+	Every wise man's son doth know.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Excellent good, i' faith.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Good, good.
+
+Clown	[Sings]
+
+	What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
+	Present mirth hath present laughter;
+	What's to come is still unsure:
+	In delay there lies no plenty;
+	Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
+	Youth's a stuff will not endure.
+
+SIR ANDREW	A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	A contagious breath.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Very sweet and contagious, i' faith.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion.
+	But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? shall we
+	rouse the night-owl in a catch that will draw three
+	souls out of one weaver? shall we do that?
+
+SIR ANDREW	An you love me, let's do't: I am dog at a catch.
+
+Clown	By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Most certain. Let our catch be, 'Thou knave.'
+
+Clown	'Hold thy peace, thou knave,' knight? I shall be
+	constrained in't to call thee knave, knight.
+
+SIR ANDREW	'Tis not the first time I have constrained one to
+	call me knave. Begin, fool: it begins 'Hold thy peace.'
+
+Clown	I shall never begin if I hold my peace.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Good, i' faith. Come, begin.
+
+	[Catch sung]
+
+	[Enter MARIA]
+
+MARIA	What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my lady
+	have not called up her steward Malvolio and bid him
+	turn you out of doors, never trust me.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio's
+	a Peg-a-Ramsey, and 'Three merry men be we.' Am not
+	I consanguineous? am I not of her blood?
+	Tillyvally. Lady!
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	'There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady!'
+
+Clown	Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed, and so do
+	I too: he does it with a better grace, but I do it
+	more natural.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	[Sings]  'O, the twelfth day of December,'--
+
+MARIA	For the love o' God, peace!
+
+	[Enter MALVOLIO]
+
+MALVOLIO	My masters, are you mad? or what are you? Have ye
+	no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like
+	tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an
+	alehouse of my lady's house, that ye squeak out your
+	coziers' catches without any mitigation or remorse
+	of voice? Is there no respect of place, persons, nor
+	time in you?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up!
+
+MALVOLIO	Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady bade me
+	tell you, that, though she harbours you as her
+	kinsman, she's nothing allied to your disorders. If
+	you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors, you
+	are welcome to the house; if not, an it would please
+	you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid
+	you farewell.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	'Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.'
+
+MARIA	Nay, good Sir Toby.
+
+Clown	'His eyes do show his days are almost done.'
+
+MALVOLIO	Is't even so?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	'But I will never die.'
+
+Clown	Sir Toby, there you lie.
+
+MALVOLIO	This is much credit to you.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	'Shall I bid him go?'
+
+Clown	'What an if you do?'
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	'Shall I bid him go, and spare not?'
+
+Clown	'O no, no, no, no, you dare not.'
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Out o' tune, sir: ye lie. Art any more than a
+	steward? Dost thou think, because thou art
+	virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?
+
+Clown	Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i' the
+	mouth too.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Thou'rt i' the right. Go, sir, rub your chain with
+	crumbs. A stoup of wine, Maria!
+
+MALVOLIO	Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favour at any
+	thing more than contempt, you would not give means
+	for this uncivil rule: she shall know of it, by this hand.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MARIA	Go shake your ears.
+
+SIR ANDREW	'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man's
+	a-hungry, to challenge him the field, and then to
+	break promise with him and make a fool of him.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Do't, knight: I'll write thee a challenge: or I'll
+	deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.
+
+MARIA	Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for tonight: since the
+	youth of the count's was today with thy lady, she is
+	much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me
+	alone with him: if I do not gull him into a
+	nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not
+	think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed:
+	I know I can do it.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him.
+
+MARIA	Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan.
+
+SIR ANDREW	O, if I thought that I'ld beat him like a dog!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	What, for being a puritan? thy exquisite reason,
+	dear knight?
+
+SIR ANDREW	I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason
+	good enough.
+
+MARIA	The devil a puritan that he is, or any thing
+	constantly, but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass,
+	that cons state without book and utters it by great
+	swarths: the best persuaded of himself, so
+	crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is
+	his grounds of faith that all that look on him love
+	him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find
+	notable cause to work.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	What wilt thou do?
+
+MARIA	I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of
+	love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape
+	of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure
+	of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find
+	himself most feelingly personated. I can write very
+	like my lady your niece: on a forgotten matter we
+	can hardly make distinction of our hands.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Excellent! I smell a device.
+
+SIR ANDREW	I have't in my nose too.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop,
+	that they come from my niece, and that she's in
+	love with him.
+
+MARIA	My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.
+
+SIR ANDREW	And your horse now would make him an ass.
+
+MARIA	Ass, I doubt not.
+
+SIR ANDREW	O, 'twill be admirable!
+
+MARIA	Sport royal, I warrant you: I know my physic will
+	work with him. I will plant you two, and let the
+	fool make a third, where he shall find the letter:
+	observe his construction of it. For this night, to
+	bed, and dream on the event. Farewell.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Good night, Penthesilea.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Before me, she's a good wench.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me:
+	what o' that?
+
+SIR ANDREW	I was adored once too.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Let's to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for
+	more money.
+
+SIR ANDREW	If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Send for money, knight: if thou hast her not i'
+	the end, call me cut.
+
+SIR ANDREW	If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Come, come, I'll go burn some sack; 'tis too late
+	to go to bed now: come, knight; come, knight.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	DUKE ORSINO's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE ORSINO, VIOLA, CURIO, and others]
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends.
+	Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
+	That old and antique song we heard last night:
+	Methought it did relieve my passion much,
+	More than light airs and recollected terms
+	Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:
+	Come, but one verse.
+
+CURIO	He is not here, so please your lordship that should sing it.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Who was it?
+
+CURIO	Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the lady
+	Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about the house.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Seek him out, and play the tune the while.
+
+	[Exit CURIO. Music plays]
+
+	Come hither, boy: if ever thou shalt love,
+	In the sweet pangs of it remember me;
+	For such as I am all true lovers are,
+	Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,
+	Save in the constant image of the creature
+	That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?
+
+VIOLA	It gives a very echo to the seat
+	Where Love is throned.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Thou dost speak masterly:
+	My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye
+	Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves:
+	Hath it not, boy?
+
+VIOLA	                  A little, by your favour.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	What kind of woman is't?
+
+VIOLA	Of your complexion.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith?
+
+VIOLA	About your years, my lord.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Too old by heaven: let still the woman take
+	An elder than herself: so wears she to him,
+	So sways she level in her husband's heart:
+	For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
+	Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
+	More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
+	Than women's are.
+
+VIOLA	                  I think it well, my lord.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
+	Or thy affection cannot hold the bent;
+	For women are as roses, whose fair flower
+	Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.
+
+VIOLA	And so they are: alas, that they are so;
+	To die, even when they to perfection grow!
+
+	[Re-enter CURIO and Clown]
+
+DUKE ORSINO	O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.
+	Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;
+	The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
+	And the free maids that weave their thread with bones
+	Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth,
+	And dallies with the innocence of love,
+	Like the old age.
+
+Clown	Are you ready, sir?
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Ay; prithee, sing.
+
+	[Music]
+	
+	SONG.
+Clown	Come away, come away, death,
+	And in sad cypress let me be laid;
+	Fly away, fly away breath;
+	I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
+	My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
+	O, prepare it!
+	My part of death, no one so true
+	Did share it.
+	Not a flower, not a flower sweet
+	On my black coffin let there be strown;
+	Not a friend, not a friend greet
+	My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:
+	A thousand thousand sighs to save,
+	Lay me, O, where
+	Sad true lover never find my grave,
+	To weep there!
+
+DUKE ORSINO	There's for thy pains.
+
+Clown	No pains, sir: I take pleasure in singing, sir.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	I'll pay thy pleasure then.
+
+Clown	Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Give me now leave to leave thee.
+
+Clown	Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the
+	tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for
+	thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such
+	constancy put to sea, that their business might be
+	every thing and their intent every where; for that's
+	it that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Let all the rest give place.
+
+	[CURIO and Attendants retire]
+
+		       Once more, Cesario,
+	Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty:
+	Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,
+	Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;
+	The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her,
+	Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune;
+	But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems
+	That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.
+
+VIOLA	But if she cannot love you, sir?
+
+DUKE ORSINO	I cannot be so answer'd.
+
+VIOLA	Sooth, but you must.
+	Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,
+	Hath for your love a great a pang of heart
+	As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her;
+	You tell her so; must she not then be answer'd?
+
+DUKE ORSINO	There is no woman's sides
+	Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
+	As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart
+	So big, to hold so much; they lack retention
+	Alas, their love may be call'd appetite,
+	No motion of the liver, but the palate,
+	That suffer surfeit, cloyment and revolt;
+	But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
+	And can digest as much: make no compare
+	Between that love a woman can bear me
+	And that I owe Olivia.
+
+VIOLA	Ay, but I know--
+
+DUKE ORSINO	What dost thou know?
+
+VIOLA	Too well what love women to men may owe:
+	In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
+	My father had a daughter loved a man,
+	As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
+	I should your lordship.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	And what's her history?
+
+VIOLA	A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
+	But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
+	Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought,
+	And with a green and yellow melancholy
+	She sat like patience on a monument,
+	Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
+	We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
+	Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
+	Much in our vows, but little in our love.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	But died thy sister of her love, my boy?
+
+VIOLA	I am all the daughters of my father's house,
+	And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.
+	Sir, shall I to this lady?
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Ay, that's the theme.
+	To her in haste; give her this jewel; say,
+	My love can give no place, bide no denay.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE V	OLIVIA's garden.
+
+
+	[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.
+
+FABIAN	Nay, I'll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport,
+	let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly
+	rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?
+
+FABIAN	I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out o'
+	favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	To anger him we'll have the bear again; and we will
+	fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?
+
+SIR ANDREW	An we do not, it is pity of our lives.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Here comes the little villain.
+
+	[Enter MARIA]
+
+	How now, my metal of India!
+
+MARIA	Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's
+	coming down this walk: he has been yonder i' the
+	sun practising behavior to his own shadow this half
+	hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I
+	know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of
+	him. Close, in the name of jesting! Lie thou there,
+
+	[Throws down a letter]
+
+	for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter MALVOLIO]
+
+MALVOLIO	'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told
+	me she did affect me: and I have heard herself come
+	thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one
+	of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more
+	exalted respect than any one else that follows her.
+	What should I think on't?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Here's an overweening rogue!
+
+FABIAN	O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock
+	of him: how he jets under his advanced plumes!
+
+SIR ANDREW	'Slight, I could so beat the rogue!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Peace, I say.
+
+MALVOLIO	To be Count Malvolio!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Ah, rogue!
+
+SIR ANDREW	Pistol him, pistol him.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Peace, peace!
+
+MALVOLIO	There is example for't; the lady of the Strachy
+	married the yeoman of the wardrobe.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Fie on him, Jezebel!
+
+FABIAN	O, peace! now he's deeply in: look how
+	imagination blows him.
+
+MALVOLIO	Having been three months married to her, sitting in
+	my state,--
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!
+
+MALVOLIO	Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet
+	gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left
+	Olivia sleeping,--
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Fire and brimstone!
+
+FABIAN	O, peace, peace!
+
+MALVOLIO	And then to have the humour of state; and after a
+	demure travel of regard, telling them I know my
+	place as I would they should do theirs, to for my
+	kinsman Toby,--
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Bolts and shackles!
+
+FABIAN	O peace, peace, peace! now, now.
+
+MALVOLIO	Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make
+	out for him: I frown the while; and perchance wind
+	up watch, or play with my--some rich jewel. Toby
+	approaches; courtesies there to me,--
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Shall this fellow live?
+
+FABIAN	Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.
+
+MALVOLIO	I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar
+	smile with an austere regard of control,--
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips then?
+
+MALVOLIO	Saying, 'Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on
+	your niece give me this prerogative of speech,'--
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	What, what?
+
+MALVOLIO	'You must amend your drunkenness.'
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Out, scab!
+
+FABIAN	Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.
+
+MALVOLIO	'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with
+	a foolish knight,'--
+
+SIR ANDREW	That's me, I warrant you.
+
+MALVOLIO	'One Sir Andrew,'--
+
+SIR ANDREW	I knew 'twas I; for many do call me fool.
+
+MALVOLIO	What employment have we here?
+
+	[Taking up the letter]
+
+FABIAN	Now is the woodcock near the gin.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	O, peace! and the spirit of humour intimate reading
+	aloud to him!
+
+MALVOLIO	By my life, this is my lady's hand these be her
+	very C's, her U's and her T's and thus makes she her
+	great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Her C's, her U's and her T's: why that?
+
+MALVOLIO	[Reads]  'To the unknown beloved, this, and my good
+	wishes:'--her very phrases! By your leave, wax.
+	Soft! and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she
+	uses to seal: 'tis my lady. To whom should this be?
+
+FABIAN	This wins him, liver and all.
+
+MALVOLIO	[Reads]
+
+	Jove knows I love: But who?
+	Lips, do not move;
+	No man must know.
+	'No man must know.' What follows? the numbers
+	altered! 'No man must know:' if this should be
+	thee, Malvolio?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Marry, hang thee, brock!
+
+MALVOLIO	[Reads]
+	I may command where I adore;
+	But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
+	With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore:
+	M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.
+
+FABIAN	A fustian riddle!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Excellent wench, say I.
+
+MALVOLIO	'M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.' Nay, but first, let
+	me see, let me see, let me see.
+
+FABIAN	What dish o' poison has she dressed him!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	And with what wing the staniel cheques at it!
+
+MALVOLIO	'I may command where I adore.' Why, she may command
+	me: I serve her; she is my lady. Why, this is
+	evident to any formal capacity; there is no
+	obstruction in this: and the end,--what should
+	that alphabetical position portend? If I could make
+	that resemble something in me,--Softly! M, O, A,
+	I,--
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	O, ay, make up that: he is now at a cold scent.
+
+FABIAN	Sowter will cry upon't for all this, though it be as
+	rank as a fox.
+
+MALVOLIO	M,--Malvolio; M,--why, that begins my name.
+
+FABIAN	Did not I say he would work it out? the cur is
+	excellent at faults.
+
+MALVOLIO	M,--but then there is no consonancy in the sequel;
+	that suffers under probation A should follow but O does.
+
+FABIAN	And O shall end, I hope.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry O!
+
+MALVOLIO	And then I comes behind.
+
+FABIAN	Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see
+	more detraction at your heels than fortunes before
+	you.
+
+MALVOLIO	M, O, A, I; this simulation is not as the former: and
+	yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for
+	every one of these letters are in my name. Soft!
+	here follows prose.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I
+	am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some
+	are born great, some achieve greatness, and some
+	have greatness thrust upon 'em. Thy Fates open
+	their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them;
+	and, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be,
+	cast thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be
+	opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let
+	thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into
+	the trick of singularity: she thus advises thee
+	that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy
+	yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever
+	cross-gartered: I say, remember. Go to, thou art
+	made, if thou desirest to be so; if not, let me see
+	thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and
+	not worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. Farewell.
+	She that would alter services with thee,
+		         THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY.'
+	Daylight and champaign discovers not more: this is
+	open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors,
+	I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross
+	acquaintance, I will be point-devise the very man.
+	I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade
+	me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady
+	loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of
+	late, she did praise my leg being cross-gartered;
+	and in this she manifests herself to my love, and
+	with a kind of injunction drives me to these habits
+	of her liking. I thank my stars I am happy. I will
+	be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and
+	cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting
+	on. Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a
+	postscript.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou
+	entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling;
+	thy smiles become thee well; therefore in my
+	presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.'
+	Jove, I thank thee: I will smile; I will do
+	everything that thou wilt have me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FABIAN	I will not give my part of this sport for a pension
+	of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	I could marry this wench for this device.
+
+SIR ANDREW	So could I too.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Nor I neither.
+
+FABIAN	Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
+
+	[Re-enter MARIA]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck?
+
+SIR ANDREW	Or o' mine either?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Shall I play my freedom at traytrip, and become thy
+	bond-slave?
+
+SIR ANDREW	I' faith, or I either?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when
+	the image of it leaves him he must run mad.
+
+MARIA	Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Like aqua-vitae with a midwife.
+
+MARIA	If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark
+	his first approach before my lady: he will come to
+	her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she
+	abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests;
+	and he will smile upon her, which will now be so
+	unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a
+	melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him
+	into a notable contempt. If you will see it, follow
+	me.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!
+
+SIR ANDREW	I'll make one too.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	OLIVIA's garden.
+
+
+	[Enter VIOLA, and Clown with a tabour]
+
+VIOLA	Save thee, friend, and thy music: dost thou live by
+	thy tabour?
+
+Clown	No, sir, I live by the church.
+
+VIOLA	Art thou a churchman?
+
+Clown	No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for
+	I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by
+	the church.
+
+VIOLA	So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a
+	beggar dwell near him; or, the church stands by thy
+	tabour, if thy tabour stand by the church.
+
+Clown	You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is
+	but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the
+	wrong side may be turned outward!
+
+VIOLA	Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with
+	words may quickly make them wanton.
+
+Clown	I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.
+
+VIOLA	Why, man?
+
+Clown	Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that
+	word might make my sister wanton. But indeed words
+	are very rascals since bonds disgraced them.
+
+VIOLA	Thy reason, man?
+
+Clown	Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and
+	words are grown so false, I am loath to prove
+	reason with them.
+
+VIOLA	I warrant thou art a merry fellow and carest for nothing.
+
+Clown	Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my
+	conscience, sir, I do not care for you: if that be
+	to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible.
+
+VIOLA	Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?
+
+Clown	No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: she
+	will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and
+	fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to
+	herrings; the husband's the bigger: I am indeed not
+	her fool, but her corrupter of words.
+
+VIOLA	I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.
+
+Clown	Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun,
+	it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but
+	the fool should be as oft with your master as with
+	my mistress: I think I saw your wisdom there.
+
+VIOLA	Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee.
+	Hold, there's expenses for thee.
+
+Clown	Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard!
+
+VIOLA	By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for
+	one;
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy
+	lady within?
+
+Clown	Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?
+
+VIOLA	Yes, being kept together and put to use.
+
+Clown	I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring
+	a Cressida to this Troilus.
+
+VIOLA	I understand you, sir; 'tis well begged.
+
+Clown	The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but
+	a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is
+	within, sir. I will construe to them whence you
+	come; who you are and what you would are out of my
+	welkin, I might say 'element,' but the word is over-worn.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+VIOLA	This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;
+	And to do that well craves a kind of wit:
+	He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
+	The quality of persons, and the time,
+	And, like the haggard, cheque at every feather
+	That comes before his eye. This is a practise
+	As full of labour as a wise man's art
+	For folly that he wisely shows is fit;
+	But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.
+
+	[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, and SIR ANDREW]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Save you, gentleman.
+
+VIOLA	And you, sir.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Dieu vous garde, monsieur.
+
+VIOLA	Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.
+
+SIR ANDREW	I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous
+	you should enter, if your trade be to her.
+
+VIOLA	I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the
+	list of my voyage.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion.
+
+VIOLA	My legs do better understand me, sir, than I
+	understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	I mean, to go, sir, to enter.
+
+VIOLA	I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we
+	are prevented.
+
+	[Enter OLIVIA and MARIA]
+
+	Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain
+	odours on you!
+
+SIR ANDREW	That youth's a rare courtier: 'Rain odours;' well.
+
+VIOLA	My matter hath no voice, to your own most pregnant
+	and vouchsafed ear.
+
+SIR ANDREW	'Odours,' 'pregnant' and 'vouchsafed:' I'll get 'em
+	all three all ready.
+
+OLIVIA	Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.
+
+	[Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA]
+
+	Give me your hand, sir.
+
+VIOLA	My duty, madam, and most humble service.
+
+OLIVIA	What is your name?
+
+VIOLA	Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.
+
+OLIVIA	My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world
+	Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment:
+	You're servant to the Count Orsino, youth.
+
+VIOLA	And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
+	Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.
+
+OLIVIA	For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
+	Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!
+
+VIOLA	Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
+	On his behalf.
+
+OLIVIA	                  O, by your leave, I pray you,
+	I bade you never speak again of him:
+	But, would you undertake another suit,
+	I had rather hear you to solicit that
+	Than music from the spheres.
+
+VIOLA	Dear lady,--
+
+OLIVIA	Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,
+	After the last enchantment you did here,
+	A ring in chase of you: so did I abuse
+	Myself, my servant and, I fear me, you:
+	Under your hard construction must I sit,
+	To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
+	Which you knew none of yours: what might you think?
+	Have you not set mine honour at the stake
+	And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts
+	That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving
+	Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,
+	Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak.
+
+VIOLA	I pity you.
+
+OLIVIA	          That's a degree to love.
+
+VIOLA	No, not a grize; for 'tis a vulgar proof,
+	That very oft we pity enemies.
+
+OLIVIA	Why, then, methinks 'tis time to smile again.
+	O, world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
+	If one should be a prey, how much the better
+	To fall before the lion than the wolf!
+
+	[Clock strikes]
+
+	The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
+	Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
+	And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
+	Your were is alike to reap a proper man:
+	There lies your way, due west.
+
+VIOLA	Then westward-ho! Grace and good disposition
+	Attend your ladyship!
+	You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?
+
+OLIVIA	Stay:
+	I prithee, tell me what thou thinkest of me.
+
+VIOLA	That you do think you are not what you are.
+
+OLIVIA	If I think so, I think the same of you.
+
+VIOLA	Then think you right: I am not what I am.
+
+OLIVIA	I would you were as I would have you be!
+
+VIOLA	Would it be better, madam, than I am?
+	I wish it might, for now I am your fool.
+
+OLIVIA	O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
+	In the contempt and anger of his lip!
+	A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon
+	Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
+	Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
+	By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,
+	I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
+	Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.
+	Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
+	For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause,
+	But rather reason thus with reason fetter,
+	Love sought is good, but given unsought better.
+
+VIOLA	By innocence I swear, and by my youth
+	I have one heart, one bosom and one truth,
+	And that no woman has; nor never none
+	Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
+	And so adieu, good madam: never more
+	Will I my master's tears to you deplore.
+
+OLIVIA	Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move
+	That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	OLIVIA's house.
+
+
+	[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN]
+
+SIR ANDREW	No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason.
+
+FABIAN	You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the
+	count's serving-man than ever she bestowed upon me;
+	I saw't i' the orchard.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that.
+
+SIR ANDREW	As plain as I see you now.
+
+FABIAN	This was a great argument of love in her toward you.
+
+SIR ANDREW	'Slight, will you make an ass o' me?
+
+FABIAN	I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of
+	judgment and reason.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	And they have been grand-jury-men since before Noah
+	was a sailor.
+
+FABIAN	She did show favour to the youth in your sight only
+	to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to
+	put fire in your heart and brimstone in your liver.
+	You should then have accosted her; and with some
+	excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should
+	have banged the youth into dumbness. This was
+	looked for at your hand, and this was balked: the
+	double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash
+	off, and you are now sailed into the north of my
+	lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle
+	on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by
+	some laudable attempt either of valour or policy.
+
+SIR ANDREW	An't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy
+	I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist as a
+	politician.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of
+	valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight
+	with him; hurt him in eleven places: my niece shall
+	take note of it; and assure thyself, there is no
+	love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's
+	commendation with woman than report of valour.
+
+FABIAN	There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief;
+	it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and fun
+	of invention: taunt him with the licence of ink:
+	if thou thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be
+	amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of
+	paper, although the sheet were big enough for the
+	bed of Ware in England, set 'em down: go, about it.
+	Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou
+	write with a goose-pen, no matter: about it.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Where shall I find you?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	We'll call thee at the cubiculo: go.
+
+	[Exit SIR ANDREW]
+
+FABIAN	This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	I have been dear to him, lad, some two thousand
+	strong, or so.
+
+FABIAN	We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll
+	not deliver't?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Never trust me, then; and by all means stir on the
+	youth to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes
+	cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were
+	opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as
+	will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of
+	the anatomy.
+
+FABIAN	And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no
+	great presage of cruelty.
+
+	[Enter MARIA]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes.
+
+MARIA	If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourself
+	into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is
+	turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no
+	Christian, that means to be saved by believing
+	rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages
+	of grossness. He's in yellow stockings.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	And cross-gartered?
+
+MARIA	Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school
+	i' the church. I have dogged him, like his
+	murderer. He does obey every point of the letter
+	that I dropped to betray him: he does smile his
+	face into more lines than is in the new map with the
+	augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such
+	a thing as 'tis. I can hardly forbear hurling things
+	at him. I know my lady will strike him: if she do,
+	he'll smile and take't for a great favour.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Come, bring us, bring us where he is.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A street.
+
+
+	[Enter SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO]
+
+SEBASTIAN	I would not by my will have troubled you;
+	But, since you make your pleasure of your pains,
+	I will no further chide you.
+
+ANTONIO	I could not stay behind you: my desire,
+	More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;
+	And not all love to see you, though so much
+	As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,
+	But jealousy what might befall your travel,
+	Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,
+	Unguided and unfriended, often prove
+	Rough and unhospitable: my willing love,
+	The rather by these arguments of fear,
+	Set forth in your pursuit.
+
+SEBASTIAN	My kind Antonio,
+	I can no other answer make but thanks,
+	And thanks; and ever [         ] oft good turns
+	Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay:
+	But, were my worth as is my conscience firm,
+	You should find better dealing. What's to do?
+	Shall we go see the reliques of this town?
+
+ANTONIO	To-morrow, sir: best first go see your lodging.
+
+SEBASTIAN	I am not weary, and 'tis long to night:
+	I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes
+	With the memorials and the things of fame
+	That do renown this city.
+
+ANTONIO	Would you'ld pardon me;
+	I do not without danger walk these streets:
+	Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the count his galleys
+	I did some service; of such note indeed,
+	That were I ta'en here it would scarce be answer'd.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Belike you slew great number of his people.
+
+ANTONIO	The offence is not of such a bloody nature;
+	Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel
+	Might well have given us bloody argument.
+	It might have since been answer'd in repaying
+	What we took from them; which, for traffic's sake,
+	Most of our city did: only myself stood out;
+	For which, if I be lapsed in this place,
+	I shall pay dear.
+
+SEBASTIAN	                  Do not then walk too open.
+
+ANTONIO	It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse.
+	In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,
+	Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,
+	Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge
+	With viewing of the town: there shall you have me.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Why I your purse?
+
+ANTONIO	Haply your eye shall light upon some toy
+	You have desire to purchase; and your store,
+	I think, is not for idle markets, sir.
+
+SEBASTIAN	I'll be your purse-bearer and leave you
+	For an hour.
+
+ANTONIO	To the Elephant.
+
+SEBASTIAN	                  I do remember.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	OLIVIA's garden.
+
+
+	[Enter OLIVIA and MARIA]
+
+OLIVIA	I have sent after him: he says he'll come;
+	How shall I feast him? what bestow of him?
+	For youth is bought more oft than begg'd or borrow'd.
+	I speak too loud.
+	Where is Malvolio? he is sad and civil,
+	And suits well for a servant with my fortunes:
+	Where is Malvolio?
+
+MARIA	He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He
+	is, sure, possessed, madam.
+
+OLIVIA	Why, what's the matter? does he rave?
+
+MARIA	No. madam, he does nothing but smile: your
+	ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if
+	he come; for, sure, the man is tainted in's wits.
+
+OLIVIA	Go call him hither.
+
+	[Exit MARIA]
+
+	I am as mad as he,
+	If sad and merry madness equal be.
+
+	[Re-enter MARIA, with MALVOLIO]
+
+	How now, Malvolio!
+
+MALVOLIO	Sweet lady, ho, ho.
+
+OLIVIA	Smilest thou?
+	I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.
+
+MALVOLIO	Sad, lady! I could be sad: this does make some
+	obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering; but
+	what of that? if it please the eye of one, it is
+	with me as the very true sonnet is, 'Please one, and
+	please all.'
+
+OLIVIA	Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee?
+
+MALVOLIO	Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs. It
+	did come to his hands, and commands shall be
+	executed: I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.
+
+OLIVIA	Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?
+
+MALVOLIO	To bed! ay, sweet-heart, and I'll come to thee.
+
+OLIVIA	God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so and kiss
+	thy hand so oft?
+
+MARIA	How do you, Malvolio?
+
+MALVOLIO	At your request! yes; nightingales answer daws.
+
+MARIA	Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?
+
+MALVOLIO	'Be not afraid of greatness:' 'twas well writ.
+
+OLIVIA	What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
+
+MALVOLIO	'Some are born great,'--
+
+OLIVIA	Ha!
+
+MALVOLIO	'Some achieve greatness,'--
+
+OLIVIA	What sayest thou?
+
+MALVOLIO	'And some have greatness thrust upon them.'
+
+OLIVIA	Heaven restore thee!
+
+MALVOLIO	'Remember who commended thy yellow stockings,'--
+
+OLIVIA	Thy yellow stockings!
+
+MALVOLIO	'And wished to see thee cross-gartered.'
+
+OLIVIA	Cross-gartered!
+
+MALVOLIO	'Go to thou art made, if thou desirest to be so;'--
+
+OLIVIA	Am I made?
+
+MALVOLIO	'If not, let me see thee a servant still.'
+
+OLIVIA	Why, this is very midsummer madness.
+
+	[Enter Servant]
+
+Servant	Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino's is
+	returned: I could hardly entreat him back: he
+	attends your ladyship's pleasure.
+
+OLIVIA	I'll come to him.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+	Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's
+	my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special
+	care of him: I would not have him miscarry for the
+	half of my dowry.
+
+	[Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA]
+
+MALVOLIO	O, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than
+	Sir Toby to look to me! This concurs directly with
+	the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may
+	appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that
+	in the letter. 'Cast thy humble slough,' says she;
+	'be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants;
+	let thy tongue tang with arguments of state; put
+	thyself into the trick of singularity;' and
+	consequently sets down the manner how; as, a sad
+	face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the
+	habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have
+	limed her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me
+	thankful! And when she went away now, 'Let this
+	fellow be looked to:' fellow! not Malvolio, nor
+	after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing
+	adheres together, that no dram of a scruple, no
+	scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous
+	or unsafe circumstance--What can be said? Nothing
+	that can be can come between me and the full
+	prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the
+	doer of this, and he is to be thanked.
+
+	[Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY BELCH and FABIAN]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all
+	the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion
+	himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him.
+
+FABIAN	Here he is, here he is. How is't with you, sir?
+	how is't with you, man?
+
+MALVOLIO	Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my private: go
+	off.
+
+MARIA	Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not
+	I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a
+	care of him.
+
+MALVOLIO	Ah, ha! does she so?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal gently
+	with him: let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how
+	is't with you? What, man! defy the devil:
+	consider, he's an enemy to mankind.
+
+MALVOLIO	Do you know what you say?
+
+MARIA	La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes
+	it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched!
+
+FABIAN	Carry his water to the wise woman.
+
+MARIA	Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I
+	live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll say.
+
+MALVOLIO	How now, mistress!
+
+MARIA	O Lord!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Prithee, hold thy peace; this is not the way: do
+	you not see you move him? let me alone with him.
+
+FABIAN	No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is
+	rough, and will not be roughly used.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Why, how now, my bawcock! how dost thou, chuck?
+
+MALVOLIO	Sir!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for
+	gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan: hang
+	him, foul collier!
+
+MARIA	Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray.
+
+MALVOLIO	My prayers, minx!
+
+MARIA	No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.
+
+MALVOLIO	Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow
+	things: I am not of your element: you shall know
+	more hereafter.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Is't possible?
+
+FABIAN	If this were played upon a stage now, I could
+	condemn it as an improbable fiction.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.
+
+MARIA	Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint.
+
+FABIAN	Why, we shall make him mad indeed.
+
+MARIA	The house will be the quieter.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Come, we'll have him in a dark room and bound. My
+	niece is already in the belief that he's mad: we
+	may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance,
+	till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt
+	us to have mercy on him: at which time we will
+	bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a
+	finder of madmen. But see, but see.
+
+	[Enter SIR ANDREW]
+
+FABIAN	More matter for a May morning.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Here's the challenge, read it: warrant there's
+	vinegar and pepper in't.
+
+FABIAN	Is't so saucy?
+
+SIR ANDREW	Ay, is't, I warrant him: do but read.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Give me.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.'
+
+FABIAN	Good, and valiant.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	[Reads]  'Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind,
+	why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't.'
+
+FABIAN	A good note; that keeps you from the blow of the law.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	[Reads]  'Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my
+	sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy
+	throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for.'
+
+FABIAN	Very brief, and to exceeding good sense--less.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	[Reads]  'I will waylay thee going home; where if it
+	be thy chance to kill me,'--
+
+FABIAN	Good.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	[Reads]  'Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain.'
+
+FABIAN	Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: good.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	[Reads]  'Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon
+	one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but
+	my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy
+	friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy,
+		                  ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
+	If this letter move him not, his legs cannot:
+	I'll give't him.
+
+MARIA	You may have very fit occasion for't: he is now in
+	some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Go, Sir Andrew: scout me for him at the corner the
+	orchard like a bum-baily: so soon as ever thou seest
+	him, draw; and, as thou drawest swear horrible; for
+	it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a
+	swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood
+	more approbation than ever proof itself would have
+	earned him. Away!
+
+SIR ANDREW	Nay, let me alone for swearing.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behavior
+	of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good
+	capacity and breeding; his employment between his
+	lord and my niece confirms no less: therefore this
+	letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no
+	terror in the youth: he will find it comes from a
+	clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by
+	word of mouth; set upon Aguecheek a notable report
+	of valour; and drive the gentleman, as I know his
+	youth will aptly receive it, into a most hideous
+	opinion of his rage, skill, fury and impetuosity.
+	This will so fright them both that they will kill
+	one another by the look, like cockatrices.
+
+	[Re-enter OLIVIA, with VIOLA]
+
+FABIAN	Here he comes with your niece: give them way till
+	he take leave, and presently after him.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	I will meditate the while upon some horrid message
+	for a challenge.
+
+	[Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, FABIAN, and MARIA]
+
+OLIVIA	I have said too much unto a heart of stone
+	And laid mine honour too unchary out:
+	There's something in me that reproves my fault;
+	But such a headstrong potent fault it is,
+	That it but mocks reproof.
+
+VIOLA	With the same 'havior that your passion bears
+	Goes on my master's grief.
+
+OLIVIA	Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture;
+	Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you;
+	And I beseech you come again to-morrow.
+	What shall you ask of me that I'll deny,
+	That honour saved may upon asking give?
+
+VIOLA	Nothing but this; your true love for my master.
+
+OLIVIA	How with mine honour may I give him that
+	Which I have given to you?
+
+VIOLA	I will acquit you.
+
+OLIVIA	Well, come again to-morrow: fare thee well:
+	A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter SIR TOBY BELCH and FABIAN]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Gentleman, God save thee.
+
+VIOLA	And you, sir.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: of what
+	nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know
+	not; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as
+	the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end:
+	dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for
+	thy assailant is quick, skilful and deadly.
+
+VIOLA	You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel
+	to me: my remembrance is very free and clear from
+	any image of offence done to any man.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore,
+	if you hold your life at any price, betake you to
+	your guard; for your opposite hath in him what
+	youth, strength, skill and wrath can furnish man withal.
+
+VIOLA	I pray you, sir, what is he?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier and on
+	carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private
+	brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three; and
+	his incensement at this moment is so implacable,
+	that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death
+	and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word; give't or take't.
+
+VIOLA	I will return again into the house and desire some
+	conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard
+	of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on
+	others, to taste their valour: belike this is a man
+	of that quirk.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a
+	very competent injury: therefore, get you on and
+	give him his desire. Back you shall not to the
+	house, unless you undertake that with me which with
+	as much safety you might answer him: therefore, on,
+	or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you
+	must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.
+
+VIOLA	This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me
+	this courteous office, as to know of the knight what
+	my offence to him is: it is something of my
+	negligence, nothing of my purpose.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this
+	gentleman till my return.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+VIOLA	Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?
+
+FABIAN	I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a
+	mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.
+
+VIOLA	I beseech you, what manner of man is he?
+
+FABIAN	Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by
+	his form, as you are like to find him in the proof
+	of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful,
+	bloody and fatal opposite that you could possibly
+	have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk
+	towards him? I will make your peace with him if I
+	can.
+
+VIOLA	I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one that
+	had rather go with sir priest than sir knight: I
+	care not who knows so much of my mettle.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Re-enter SIR TOBY BELCH, with SIR ANDREW]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen such a
+	firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard and
+	all, and he gives me the stuck in with such a mortal
+	motion, that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he
+	pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they
+	step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can
+	scarce hold him yonder.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Plague on't, an I thought he had been valiant and so
+	cunning in fence, I'ld have seen him damned ere I'ld
+	have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip,
+	and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	I'll make the motion: stand here, make a good show
+	on't: this shall end without the perdition of souls.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you.
+
+	[Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA]
+
+	[To FABIAN]
+
+	I have his horse to take up the quarrel:
+	I have persuaded him the youth's a devil.
+
+FABIAN	He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants and
+	looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	[To VIOLA]  There's no remedy, sir; he will fight
+	with you for's oath sake: marry, he hath better
+	bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now
+	scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw, for
+	the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you.
+
+VIOLA	[Aside]  Pray God defend me! A little thing would
+	make me tell them how much I lack of a man.
+
+FABIAN	Give ground, if you see him furious.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman
+	will, for his honour's sake, have one bout with you;
+	he cannot by the duello avoid it: but he has
+	promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he
+	will not hurt you. Come on; to't.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Pray God, he keep his oath!
+
+VIOLA	I do assure you, 'tis against my will.
+
+	[They draw]
+
+	[Enter ANTONIO]
+
+ANTONIO	Put up your sword. If this young gentleman
+	Have done offence, I take the fault on me:
+	If you offend him, I for him defy you.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	You, sir! why, what are you?
+
+ANTONIO	One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more
+	Than you have heard him brag to you he will.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.
+
+	[They draw]
+
+	[Enter Officers]
+
+FABIAN	O good Sir Toby, hold! here come the officers.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	I'll be with you anon.
+
+VIOLA	Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Marry, will I, sir; and, for that I promised you,
+	I'll be as good as my word: he will bear you easily
+	and reins well.
+
+First Officer	This is the man; do thy office.
+
+Second Officer	Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit of Count Orsino.
+
+ANTONIO	You do mistake me, sir.
+
+First Officer	No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well,
+	Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.
+	Take him away: he knows I know him well.
+
+ANTONIO	I must obey.
+
+	[To VIOLA]
+
+	This comes with seeking you:
+	But there's no remedy; I shall answer it.
+	What will you do, now my necessity
+	Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me
+	Much more for what I cannot do for you
+	Than what befalls myself. You stand amazed;
+	But be of comfort.
+
+Second Officer	Come, sir, away.
+
+ANTONIO	I must entreat of you some of that money.
+
+VIOLA	What money, sir?
+	For the fair kindness you have show'd me here,
+	And, part, being prompted by your present trouble,
+	Out of my lean and low ability
+	I'll lend you something: my having is not much;
+	I'll make division of my present with you:
+	Hold, there's half my coffer.
+
+ANTONIO	Will you deny me now?
+	Is't possible that my deserts to you
+	Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,
+	Lest that it make me so unsound a man
+	As to upbraid you with those kindnesses
+	That I have done for you.
+
+VIOLA	I know of none;
+	Nor know I you by voice or any feature:
+	I hate ingratitude more in a man
+	Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
+	Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
+	Inhabits our frail blood.
+
+ANTONIO	O heavens themselves!
+
+Second Officer	Come, sir, I pray you, go.
+
+ANTONIO	Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here
+	I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death,
+	Relieved him with such sanctity of love,
+	And to his image, which methought did promise
+	Most venerable worth, did I devotion.
+
+First Officer	What's that to us? The time goes by: away!
+
+ANTONIO	But O how vile an idol proves this god
+	Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.
+	In nature there's no blemish but the mind;
+	None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind:
+	Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil
+	Are empty trunks o'erflourish'd by the devil.
+
+First Officer	The man grows mad: away with him! Come, come, sir.
+
+ANTONIO	Lead me on.
+
+	[Exit with Officers]
+
+VIOLA	Methinks his words do from such passion fly,
+	That he believes himself: so do not I.
+	Prove true, imagination, O, prove true,
+	That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian: we'll
+	whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws.
+
+VIOLA	He named Sebastian: I my brother know
+	Yet living in my glass; even such and so
+	In favour was my brother, and he went
+	Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
+	For him I imitate: O, if it prove,
+	Tempests are kind and salt waves fresh in love.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than
+	a hare: his dishonesty appears in leaving his
+	friend here in necessity and denying him; and for
+	his cowardship, ask Fabian.
+
+FABIAN	A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.
+
+SIR ANDREW	'Slid, I'll after him again and beat him.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Do; cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.
+
+SIR ANDREW	An I do not,--
+
+FABIAN	Come, let's see the event.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing yet.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before OLIVIA's house.
+
+
+	[Enter SEBASTIAN and Clown]
+
+Clown	Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?
+
+SEBASTIAN	Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow:
+	Let me be clear of thee.
+
+Clown	Well held out, i' faith! No, I do not know you; nor
+	I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come
+	speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario;
+	nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so is so.
+
+SEBASTIAN	I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else: Thou
+	know'st not me.
+
+Clown	Vent my folly! he has heard that word of some
+	great man and now applies it to a fool. Vent my
+	folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the world,
+	will prove a cockney. I prithee now, ungird thy
+	strangeness and tell me what I shall vent to my
+	lady: shall I vent to her that thou art coming?
+
+SEBASTIAN	I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me: There's
+	money for thee: if you tarry longer, I shall give
+	worse payment.
+
+Clown	By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men
+	that give fools money get themselves a good
+	report--after fourteen years' purchase.
+
+	[Enter SIR ANDREW, SIR TOBY BELCH, and FABIAN]
+
+SIR ANDREW	Now, sir, have I met you again? there's for you.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Why, there's for thee, and there, and there. Are all
+	the people mad?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house.
+
+Clown	This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be
+	in some of your coats for two pence.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Come on, sir; hold.
+
+SIR ANDREW	Nay, let him alone: I'll go another way to work
+	with him; I'll have an action of battery against
+	him, if there be any law in Illyria: though I
+	struck him first, yet it's no matter for that.
+
+SEBASTIAN	Let go thy hand.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young
+	soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed; come on.
+
+SEBASTIAN	I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now? If
+	thou darest tempt me further, draw thy sword.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two
+	of this malapert blood from you.
+
+	[Enter OLIVIA]
+
+OLIVIA	Hold, Toby; on thy life I charge thee, hold!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Madam!
+
+OLIVIA	Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
+	Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
+	Where manners ne'er were preach'd! out of my sight!
+	Be not offended, dear Cesario.
+	Rudesby, be gone!
+
+	[Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN]
+
+	I prithee, gentle friend,
+	Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
+	In this uncivil and thou unjust extent
+	Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,
+	And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
+	This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby
+	Mayst smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go:
+	Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me,
+	He started one poor heart of mine in thee.
+
+SEBASTIAN	What relish is in this? how runs the stream?
+	Or I am mad, or else this is a dream:
+	Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
+	If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
+
+OLIVIA	Nay, come, I prithee; would thou'ldst be ruled by me!
+
+SEBASTIAN	Madam, I will.
+
+OLIVIA	                  O, say so, and so be!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	OLIVIA's house.
+
+
+	[Enter MARIA and Clown]
+
+MARIA	Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard;
+	make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate: do
+	it quickly; I'll call Sir Toby the whilst.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Clown	Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself
+	in't; and I would I were the first that ever
+	dissembled in such a gown. I am not tall enough to
+	become the function well, nor lean enough to be
+	thought a good student; but to be said an honest man
+	and a good housekeeper goes as fairly as to say a
+	careful man and a great scholar. The competitors enter.
+
+	[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA]
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Jove bless thee, master Parson.
+
+Clown	Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for, as the old hermit of
+	Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily
+	said to a niece of King Gorboduc, 'That that is is;'
+	so I, being Master Parson, am Master Parson; for,
+	what is 'that' but 'that,' and 'is' but 'is'?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	To him, Sir Topas.
+
+Clown	What, ho, I say! peace in this prison!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.
+
+MALVOLIO	[Within]  Who calls there?
+
+Clown	Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio
+	the lunatic.
+
+MALVOLIO	Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady.
+
+Clown	Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man!
+	talkest thou nothing but of ladies?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Well said, Master Parson.
+
+MALVOLIO	Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged: good Sir
+	Topas, do not think I am mad: they have laid me
+	here in hideous darkness.
+
+Clown	Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most
+	modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones
+	that will use the devil himself with courtesy:
+	sayest thou that house is dark?
+
+MALVOLIO	As hell, Sir Topas.
+
+Clown	Why it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes,
+	and the clearstores toward the south north are as
+	lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of
+	obstruction?
+
+MALVOLIO	I am not mad, Sir Topas: I say to you, this house is dark.
+
+Clown	Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no darkness
+	but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled than
+	the Egyptians in their fog.
+
+MALVOLIO	I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though
+	ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there
+	was never man thus abused. I am no more mad than you
+	are: make the trial of it in any constant question.
+
+Clown	What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?
+
+MALVOLIO	That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.
+
+Clown	What thinkest thou of his opinion?
+
+MALVOLIO	I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.
+
+Clown	Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness:
+	thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras ere I will
+	allow of thy wits, and fear to kill a woodcock, lest
+	thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.
+
+MALVOLIO	Sir Topas, Sir Topas!
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	My most exquisite Sir Topas!
+
+Clown	Nay, I am for all waters.
+
+MARIA	Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and
+	gown: he sees thee not.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how
+	thou findest him: I would we were well rid of this
+	knavery. If he may be conveniently delivered, I
+	would he were, for I am now so far in offence with
+	my niece that I cannot pursue with any safety this
+	sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber.
+
+	[Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA]
+
+Clown	[Singing]
+
+	'Hey, Robin, jolly Robin,
+	Tell me how thy lady does.'
+
+MALVOLIO	Fool!
+
+Clown	'My lady is unkind, perdy.'
+
+MALVOLIO	Fool!
+
+Clown	'Alas, why is she so?'
+
+MALVOLIO	Fool, I say!
+
+Clown	'She loves another'--Who calls, ha?
+
+MALVOLIO	Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my
+	hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink and paper:
+	as I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to
+	thee for't.
+
+Clown	Master Malvolio?
+
+MALVOLIO	Ay, good fool.
+
+Clown	Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?
+
+MALVOLIO	Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused: I
+	am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.
+
+Clown	But as well? then you are mad indeed, if you be no
+	better in your wits than a fool.
+
+MALVOLIO	They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness,
+	send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to
+	face me out of my wits.
+
+Clown	Advise you what you say; the minister is here.
+	Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore!
+	endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain
+	bibble babble.
+
+MALVOLIO	Sir Topas!
+
+Clown	Maintain no words with him, good fellow. Who, I,
+	sir? not I, sir. God be wi' you, good Sir Topas.
+	Merry, amen. I will, sir, I will.
+
+MALVOLIO	Fool, fool, fool, I say!
+
+Clown	Alas, sir, be patient. What say you sir? I am
+	shent for speaking to you.
+
+MALVOLIO	Good fool, help me to some light and some paper: I
+	tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any man in Illyria.
+
+Clown	Well-a-day that you were, sir
+
+MALVOLIO	By this hand, I am. Good fool, some ink, paper and
+	light; and convey what I will set down to my lady:
+	it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing
+	of letter did.
+
+Clown	I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you
+	not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit?
+
+MALVOLIO	Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true.
+
+Clown	Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman till I see his
+	brains. I will fetch you light and paper and ink.
+
+MALVOLIO	Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I
+	prithee, be gone.
+
+Clown	[Singing]
+
+	I am gone, sir,
+	And anon, sir,
+	I'll be with you again,
+	In a trice,
+	Like to the old Vice,
+	Your need to sustain;
+	Who, with dagger of lath,
+	In his rage and his wrath,
+	Cries, ah, ha! to the devil:
+	Like a mad lad,
+	Pare thy nails, dad;
+	Adieu, good man devil.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	OLIVIA's garden.
+
+
+	[Enter SEBASTIAN]
+
+SEBASTIAN	This is the air; that is the glorious sun;
+	This pearl she gave me, I do feel't and see't;
+	And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus,
+	Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio, then?
+	I could not find him at the Elephant:
+	Yet there he was; and there I found this credit,
+	That he did range the town to seek me out.
+	His counsel now might do me golden service;
+	For though my soul disputes well with my sense,
+	That this may be some error, but no madness,
+	Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune
+	So far exceed all instance, all discourse,
+	That I am ready to distrust mine eyes
+	And wrangle with my reason that persuades me
+	To any other trust but that I am mad
+	Or else the lady's mad; yet, if 'twere so,
+	She could not sway her house, command her followers,
+	Take and give back affairs and their dispatch
+	With such a smooth, discreet and stable bearing
+	As I perceive she does: there's something in't
+	That is deceiveable. But here the lady comes.
+
+	[Enter OLIVIA and Priest]
+
+OLIVIA	Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,
+	Now go with me and with this holy man
+	Into the chantry by: there, before him,
+	And underneath that consecrated roof,
+	Plight me the full assurance of your faith;
+	That my most jealous and too doubtful soul
+	May live at peace. He shall conceal it
+	Whiles you are willing it shall come to note,
+	What time we will our celebration keep
+	According to my birth. What do you say?
+
+SEBASTIAN	I'll follow this good man, and go with you;
+	And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.
+
+OLIVIA	Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine,
+	That they may fairly note this act of mine!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TWELFTH NIGHT
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before OLIVIA's house.
+
+
+	[Enter Clown and FABIAN]
+
+FABIAN	Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter.
+
+Clown	Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.
+
+FABIAN	Any thing.
+
+Clown	Do not desire to see this letter.
+
+FABIAN	This is, to give a dog, and in recompense desire my
+	dog again.
+
+	[Enter DUKE ORSINO, VIOLA, CURIO, and Lords]
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?
+
+Clown	Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	I know thee well; how dost thou, my good fellow?
+
+Clown	Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse
+	for my friends.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.
+
+Clown	No, sir, the worse.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	How can that be?
+
+Clown	Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me;
+	now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so that by
+	my foes, sir I profit in the knowledge of myself,
+	and by my friends, I am abused: so that,
+	conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives
+	make your two affirmatives why then, the worse for
+	my friends and the better for my foes.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Why, this is excellent.
+
+Clown	By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be
+	one of my friends.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Thou shalt not be the worse for me: there's gold.
+
+Clown	But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would
+	you could make it another.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	O, you give me ill counsel.
+
+Clown	Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once,
+	and let your flesh and blood obey it.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Well, I will be so much a sinner, to be a
+	double-dealer: there's another.
+
+Clown	Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old
+	saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex,
+	sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of
+	Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind; one, two, three.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	You can fool no more money out of me at this throw:
+	if you will let your lady know I am here to speak
+	with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake
+	my bounty further.
+
+Clown	Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come
+	again. I go, sir; but I would not have you to think
+	that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness:
+	but, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I
+	will awake it anon.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+VIOLA	Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.
+
+	[Enter ANTONIO and Officers]
+
+DUKE ORSINO	That face of his I do remember well;
+	Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
+	As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war:
+	A bawbling vessel was he captain of,
+	For shallow draught and bulk unprizable;
+	With which such scathful grapple did he make
+	With the most noble bottom of our fleet,
+	That very envy and the tongue of loss
+	Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter?
+
+First Officer	Orsino, this is that Antonio
+	That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy;
+	And this is he that did the Tiger board,
+	When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:
+	Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,
+	In private brabble did we apprehend him.
+
+VIOLA	He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side;
+	But in conclusion put strange speech upon me:
+	I know not what 'twas but distraction.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief!
+	What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies,
+	Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear,
+	Hast made thine enemies?
+
+ANTONIO	Orsino, noble sir,
+	Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me:
+	Antonio never yet was thief or pirate,
+	Though I confess, on base and ground enough,
+	Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:
+	That most ingrateful boy there by your side,
+	From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth
+	Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
+	His life I gave him and did thereto add
+	My love, without retention or restraint,
+	All his in dedication; for his sake
+	Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
+	Into the danger of this adverse town;
+	Drew to defend him when he was beset:
+	Where being apprehended, his false cunning,
+	Not meaning to partake with me in danger,
+	Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
+	And grew a twenty years removed thing
+	While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
+	Which I had recommended to his use
+	Not half an hour before.
+
+VIOLA	How can this be?
+
+DUKE ORSINO	When came he to this town?
+
+ANTONIO	To-day, my lord; and for three months before,
+	No interim, not a minute's vacancy,
+	Both day and night did we keep company.
+
+	[Enter OLIVIA and Attendants]
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Here comes the countess: now heaven walks on earth.
+	But for thee, fellow; fellow, thy words are madness:
+	Three months this youth hath tended upon me;
+	But more of that anon. Take him aside.
+
+OLIVIA	What would my lord, but that he may not have,
+	Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?
+	Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
+
+VIOLA	Madam!
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Gracious Olivia,--
+
+OLIVIA	What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord,--
+
+VIOLA	My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.
+
+OLIVIA	If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
+	It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear
+	As howling after music.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Still so cruel?
+
+OLIVIA	Still so constant, lord.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	What, to perverseness? you uncivil lady,
+	To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
+	My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breathed out
+	That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?
+
+OLIVIA	Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
+	Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death,
+	Kill what I love?--a savage jealousy
+	That sometimes savours nobly. But hear me this:
+	Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
+	And that I partly know the instrument
+	That screws me from my true place in your favour,
+	Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still;
+	But this your minion, whom I know you love,
+	And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,
+	Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,
+	Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.
+	Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:
+	I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
+	To spite a raven's heart within a dove.
+
+VIOLA	And I, most jocund, apt and willingly,
+	To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.
+
+OLIVIA	Where goes Cesario?
+
+VIOLA	After him I love
+	More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
+	More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife.
+	If I do feign, you witnesses above
+	Punish my life for tainting of my love!
+
+OLIVIA	Ay me, detested! how am I beguiled!
+
+VIOLA	Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?
+
+OLIVIA	Hast thou forgot thyself? is it so long?
+	Call forth the holy father.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Come, away!
+
+OLIVIA	Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Husband!
+
+OLIVIA	       Ay, husband: can he that deny?
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Her husband, sirrah!
+
+VIOLA	No, my lord, not I.
+
+OLIVIA	Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear
+	That makes thee strangle thy propriety:
+	Fear not, Cesario; take thy fortunes up;
+	Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art
+	As great as that thou fear'st.
+
+	[Enter Priest]
+
+		         O, welcome, father!
+	Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,
+	Here to unfold, though lately we intended
+	To keep in darkness what occasion now
+	Reveals before 'tis ripe, what thou dost know
+	Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me.
+
+Priest	A contract of eternal bond of love,
+	Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
+	Attested by the holy close of lips,
+	Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings;
+	And all the ceremony of this compact
+	Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:
+	Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave
+	I have travell'd but two hours.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be
+	When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?
+	Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow,
+	That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?
+	Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet
+	Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.
+
+VIOLA	My lord, I do protest--
+
+OLIVIA	O, do not swear!
+	Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.
+
+	[Enter SIR ANDREW]
+
+SIR ANDREW	For the love of God, a surgeon! Send one presently
+	to Sir Toby.
+
+OLIVIA	What's the matter?
+
+SIR ANDREW	He has broke my head across and has given Sir Toby
+	a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your
+	help! I had rather than forty pound I were at home.
+
+OLIVIA	Who has done this, Sir Andrew?
+
+SIR ANDREW	The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for
+	a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	My gentleman, Cesario?
+
+SIR ANDREW	'Od's lifelings, here he is! You broke my head for
+	nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't
+	by Sir Toby.
+
+VIOLA	Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you:
+	You drew your sword upon me without cause;
+	But I bespoke you fair, and hurt you not.
+
+SIR ANDREW	If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me: I
+	think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.
+
+	[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and Clown]
+
+	Here comes Sir Toby halting; you shall hear more:
+	but if he had not been in drink, he would have
+	tickled you othergates than he did.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	How now, gentleman! how is't with you?
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	That's all one: has hurt me, and there's the end
+	on't. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot?
+
+Clown	O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes
+	were set at eight i' the morning.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Then he's a rogue, and a passy measures panyn: I
+	hate a drunken rogue.
+
+OLIVIA	Away with him! Who hath made this havoc with them?
+
+SIR ANDREW	I'll help you, Sir Toby, because well be dressed together.
+
+SIR TOBY BELCH	Will you help? an ass-head and a coxcomb and a
+	knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull!
+
+OLIVIA	Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to.
+
+	[Exeunt Clown, FABIAN, SIR TOBY BELCH, and SIR ANDREW]
+
+	[Enter SEBASTIAN]
+
+SEBASTIAN	I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman:
+	But, had it been the brother of my blood,
+	I must have done no less with wit and safety.
+	You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that
+	I do perceive it hath offended you:
+	Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows
+	We made each other but so late ago.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons,
+	A natural perspective, that is and is not!
+
+SEBASTIAN	Antonio, O my dear Antonio!
+	How have the hours rack'd and tortured me,
+	Since I have lost thee!
+
+ANTONIO	Sebastian are you?
+
+SEBASTIAN	                  Fear'st thou that, Antonio?
+
+ANTONIO	How have you made division of yourself?
+	An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin
+	Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
+
+OLIVIA	Most wonderful!
+
+SEBASTIAN	Do I stand there? I never had a brother;
+	Nor can there be that deity in my nature,
+	Of here and every where. I had a sister,
+	Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd.
+	Of charity, what kin are you to me?
+	What countryman? what name? what parentage?
+
+VIOLA	Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father;
+	Such a Sebastian was my brother too,
+	So went he suited to his watery tomb:
+	If spirits can assume both form and suit
+	You come to fright us.
+
+SEBASTIAN	A spirit I am indeed;
+	But am in that dimension grossly clad
+	Which from the womb I did participate.
+	Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
+	I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
+	And say 'Thrice-welcome, drowned Viola!'
+
+VIOLA	My father had a mole upon his brow.
+
+SEBASTIAN	And so had mine.
+
+VIOLA	And died that day when Viola from her birth
+	Had number'd thirteen years.
+
+SEBASTIAN	O, that record is lively in my soul!
+	He finished indeed his mortal act
+	That day that made my sister thirteen years.
+
+VIOLA	If nothing lets to make us happy both
+	But this my masculine usurp'd attire,
+	Do not embrace me till each circumstance
+	Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump
+	That I am Viola: which to confirm,
+	I'll bring you to a captain in this town,
+	Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help
+	I was preserved to serve this noble count.
+	All the occurrence of my fortune since
+	Hath been between this lady and this lord.
+
+SEBASTIAN	[To OLIVIA]  So comes it, lady, you have been mistook:
+	But nature to her bias drew in that.
+	You would have been contracted to a maid;
+	Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived,
+	You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Be not amazed; right noble is his blood.
+	If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
+	I shall have share in this most happy wreck.
+
+	[To VIOLA]
+
+	Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times
+	Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.
+
+VIOLA	And all those sayings will I overswear;
+	And those swearings keep as true in soul
+	As doth that orbed continent the fire
+	That severs day from night.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Give me thy hand;
+	And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.
+
+VIOLA	The captain that did bring me first on shore
+	Hath my maid's garments: he upon some action
+	Is now in durance, at Malvolio's suit,
+	A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.
+
+OLIVIA	He shall enlarge him: fetch Malvolio hither:
+	And yet, alas, now I remember me,
+	They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.
+
+	[Re-enter Clown with a letter, and FABIAN]
+
+	A most extracting frenzy of mine own
+	From my remembrance clearly banish'd his.
+	How does he, sirrah?
+
+Clown	Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the staves's end as
+	well as a man in his case may do: has here writ a
+	letter to you; I should have given't you to-day
+	morning, but as a madman's epistles are no gospels,
+	so it skills not much when they are delivered.
+
+OLIVIA	Open't, and read it.
+
+Clown	Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers
+	the madman.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'By the Lord, madam,'--
+
+OLIVIA	How now! art thou mad?
+
+Clown	No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship
+	will have it as it ought to be, you must allow Vox.
+
+OLIVIA	Prithee, read i' thy right wits.
+
+Clown	So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits is to
+	read thus: therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear.
+
+OLIVIA	Read it you, sirrah.
+
+	[To FABIAN]
+
+FABIAN	[Reads]  'By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the
+	world shall know it: though you have put me into
+	darkness and given your drunken cousin rule over
+	me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as
+	your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced
+	me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt
+	not but to do myself much right, or you much shame.
+	Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little
+	unthought of and speak out of my injury.
+		         THE MADLY-USED MALVOLIO.'
+
+OLIVIA	Did he write this?
+
+Clown	Ay, madam.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	This savours not much of distraction.
+
+OLIVIA	See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.
+
+	[Exit FABIAN]
+
+	My lord so please you, these things further
+	thought on,
+	To think me as well a sister as a wife,
+	One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you,
+	Here at my house and at my proper cost.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer.
+
+	[To VIOLA]
+
+	Your master quits you; and for your service done him,
+	So much against the mettle of your sex,
+	So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
+	And since you call'd me master for so long,
+	Here is my hand: you shall from this time be
+	Your master's mistress.
+
+OLIVIA	A sister! you are she.
+
+	[Re-enter FABIAN, with MALVOLIO]
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Is this the madman?
+
+OLIVIA	Ay, my lord, this same.
+	How now, Malvolio!
+
+MALVOLIO	                  Madam, you have done me wrong,
+	Notorious wrong.
+
+OLIVIA	                  Have I, Malvolio? no.
+
+MALVOLIO	Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that letter.
+	You must not now deny it is your hand:
+	Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase;
+	Or say 'tis not your seal, nor your invention:
+	You can say none of this: well, grant it then
+	And tell me, in the modesty of honour,
+	Why you have given me such clear lights of favour,
+	Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd to you,
+	To put on yellow stockings and to frown
+	Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people;
+	And, acting this in an obedient hope,
+	Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
+	Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
+	And made the most notorious geck and gull
+	That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why.
+
+OLIVIA	Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
+	Though, I confess, much like the character
+	But out of question 'tis Maria's hand.
+	And now I do bethink me, it was she
+	First told me thou wast mad; then camest in smiling,
+	And in such forms which here were presupposed
+	Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content:
+	This practise hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee;
+	But when we know the grounds and authors of it,
+	Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
+	Of thine own cause.
+
+FABIAN	Good madam, hear me speak,
+	And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come
+	Taint the condition of this present hour,
+	Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not,
+	Most freely I confess, myself and Toby
+	Set this device against Malvolio here,
+	Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
+	We had conceived against him: Maria writ
+	The letter at Sir Toby's great importance;
+	In recompense whereof he hath married her.
+	How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,
+	May rather pluck on laughter than revenge;
+	If that the injuries be justly weigh'd
+	That have on both sides pass'd.
+
+OLIVIA	Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee!
+
+Clown	Why, 'some are born great, some achieve greatness,
+	and some have greatness thrown upon them.' I was
+	one, sir, in this interlude; one Sir Topas, sir; but
+	that's all one. 'By the Lord, fool, I am not mad.'
+	But do you remember? 'Madam, why laugh you at such
+	a barren rascal? an you smile not, he's gagged:'
+	and thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.
+
+MALVOLIO	I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OLIVIA	He hath been most notoriously abused.
+
+DUKE ORSINO	Pursue him and entreat him to a peace:
+	He hath not told us of the captain yet:
+	When that is known and golden time convents,
+	A solemn combination shall be made
+	Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister,
+	We will not part from hence. Cesario, come;
+	For so you shall be, while you are a man;
+	But when in other habits you are seen,
+	Orsino's mistress and his fancy's queen.
+
+	[Exeunt all, except Clown]
+
+Clown	[Sings]
+
+	When that I was and a little tiny boy,
+	With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
+	A foolish thing was but a toy,
+	For the rain it raineth every day.
+
+	But when I came to man's estate,
+	With hey, ho, &c.
+	'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate,
+	For the rain, &c.
+
+	But when I came, alas! to wive,
+	With hey, ho, &c.
+	By swaggering could I never thrive,
+	For the rain, &c.
+
+	But when I came unto my beds,
+	With hey, ho, &c.
+	With toss-pots still had drunken heads,
+	For the rain, &c.
+
+	A great while ago the world begun,
+	With hey, ho, &c.
+	But that's all one, our play is done,
+	And we'll strive to please you every day.
+
+	[Exit]
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+DUKE OF MILAN	Father to Silvia. (DUKE:)
+
+
+VALENTINE	|
+	|  the two Gentlemen.
+PROTEUS	|
+
+
+ANTONIO	Father to Proteus.
+
+THURIO	a foolish rival to Valentine.
+
+EGLAMOUR	Agent for Silvia in her escape.
+
+HOST	where Julia lodges. (Host:)
+
+OUTLAWS	with Valentine.
+	(First Outlaw:)
+	(Second Outlaw:)
+	(Third Outlaw:)
+
+SPEED	a clownish servant to Valentine.
+
+LAUNCE	the like to Proteus.
+
+PANTHINO	Servant to Antonio.
+
+JULIA	beloved of Proteus.
+
+SILVIA	beloved of Valentine.
+
+LUCETTA	waiting-woman to Julia.
+
+	Servants, Musicians.
+
+
+SCENE	Verona; Milan; the frontiers of Mantua.
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Verona. An open place.
+
+
+	[Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS]
+
+VALENTINE	Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus:
+	Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
+	Were't not affection chains thy tender days
+	To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love,
+	I rather would entreat thy company
+	To see the wonders of the world abroad,
+	Than, living dully sluggardized at home,
+	Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
+	But since thou lovest, love still and thrive therein,
+	Even as I would when I to love begin.
+
+PROTEUS	Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu!
+	Think on thy Proteus, when thou haply seest
+	Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
+	Wish me partaker in thy happiness
+	When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger,
+	If ever danger do environ thee,
+	Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,
+	For I will be thy beadsman, Valentine.
+
+VALENTINE	And on a love-book pray for my success?
+
+PROTEUS	Upon some book I love I'll pray for thee.
+
+VALENTINE	That's on some shallow story of deep love:
+	How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont.
+
+PROTEUS	That's a deep story of a deeper love:
+	For he was more than over shoes in love.
+
+VALENTINE	'Tis true; for you are over boots in love,
+	And yet you never swum the Hellespont.
+
+PROTEUS	Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots.
+
+VALENTINE	No, I will not, for it boots thee not.
+
+PROTEUS	What?
+
+VALENTINE	To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans;
+	Coy looks with heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth
+	With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights:
+	If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain;
+	If lost, why then a grievous labour won;
+	However, but a folly bought with wit,
+	Or else a wit by folly vanquished.
+
+PROTEUS	So, by your circumstance, you call me fool.
+
+VALENTINE	So, by your circumstance, I fear you'll prove.
+
+PROTEUS	'Tis love you cavil at: I am not Love.
+
+VALENTINE	Love is your master, for he masters you:
+	And he that is so yoked by a fool,
+	Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise.
+
+PROTEUS	Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud
+	The eating canker dwells, so eating love
+	Inhabits in the finest wits of all.
+
+VALENTINE	And writers say, as the most forward bud
+	Is eaten by the canker ere it blow,
+	Even so by love the young and tender wit
+	Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the bud,
+	Losing his verdure even in the prime
+	And all the fair effects of future hopes.
+	But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee,
+	That art a votary to fond desire?
+	Once more adieu! my father at the road
+	Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd.
+
+PROTEUS	And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.
+
+VALENTINE	Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave.
+	To Milan let me hear from thee by letters
+	Of thy success in love, and what news else
+	Betideth here in absence of thy friend;
+	And likewise will visit thee with mine.
+
+PROTEUS	All happiness bechance to thee in Milan!
+
+VALENTINE	As much to you at home! and so, farewell.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PROTEUS	He after honour hunts, I after love:
+	He leaves his friends to dignify them more,
+	I leave myself, my friends and all, for love.
+	Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphosed me,
+	Made me neglect my studies, lose my time,
+	War with good counsel, set the world at nought;
+	Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought.
+
+	[Enter SPEED]
+
+SPEED	Sir Proteus, save you! Saw you my master?
+
+PROTEUS	But now he parted hence, to embark for Milan.
+
+SPEED	Twenty to one then he is shipp'd already,
+	And I have play'd the sheep in losing him.
+
+PROTEUS	Indeed, a sheep doth very often stray,
+	An if the shepherd be a while away.
+
+SPEED	You conclude that my master is a shepherd, then,
+	and I a sheep?
+
+PROTEUS	I do.
+
+SPEED	Why then, my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep.
+
+PROTEUS	A silly answer and fitting well a sheep.
+
+SPEED	This proves me still a sheep.
+
+PROTEUS	True; and thy master a shepherd.
+
+SPEED	Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance.
+
+PROTEUS	It shall go hard but I'll prove it by another.
+
+SPEED	The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the
+	shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks
+	not me: therefore I am no sheep.
+
+PROTEUS	The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd; the
+	shepherd for food follows not the sheep: thou for
+	wages followest thy master; thy master for wages
+	follows not thee: therefore thou art a sheep.
+
+SPEED	Such another proof will make me cry 'baa.'
+
+PROTEUS	But, dost thou hear? gavest thou my letter to Julia?
+
+SPEED	Ay sir: I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her,
+	a laced mutton, and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a
+	lost mutton, nothing for my labour.
+
+PROTEUS	Here's too small a pasture for such store of muttons.
+
+SPEED	If the ground be overcharged, you were best stick her.
+
+PROTEUS	Nay: in that you are astray, 'twere best pound you.
+
+SPEED	Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for
+	carrying your letter.
+
+PROTEUS	You mistake; I mean the pound,--a pinfold.
+
+SPEED	From a pound to a pin? fold it over and over,
+	'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to
+	your lover.
+
+PROTEUS	But what said she?
+
+SPEED	[First nodding]  Ay.
+
+PROTEUS	Nod--Ay--why, that's noddy.
+
+SPEED	You mistook, sir; I say, she did nod: and you ask
+	me if she did nod; and I say, 'Ay.'
+
+PROTEUS	And that set together is noddy.
+
+SPEED	Now you have taken the pains to set it together,
+	take it for your pains.
+
+PROTEUS	No, no; you shall have it for bearing the letter.
+
+SPEED	Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you.
+
+PROTEUS	Why sir, how do you bear with me?
+
+SPEED	Marry, sir, the letter, very orderly; having nothing
+	but the word 'noddy' for my pains.
+
+PROTEUS	Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit.
+
+SPEED	And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.
+
+PROTEUS	Come come, open the matter in brief: what said she?
+
+SPEED	Open your purse, that the money and the matter may
+	be both at once delivered.
+
+PROTEUS	Well, sir, here is for your pains. What said she?
+
+SPEED	Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her.
+
+PROTEUS	Why, couldst thou perceive so much from her?
+
+SPEED	Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no,
+	not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter:
+	and being so hard to me that brought your mind, I
+	fear she'll prove as hard to you in telling your
+	mind. Give her no token but stones; for she's as
+	hard as steel.
+
+PROTEUS	What said she? nothing?
+
+SPEED	No, not so much as 'Take this for thy pains.' To
+	testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testerned
+	me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your
+	letters yourself: and so, sir, I'll commend you to my master.
+
+PROTEUS	Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wreck,
+	Which cannot perish having thee aboard,
+	Being destined to a drier death on shore.
+
+	[Exit SPEED]
+
+	I must go send some better messenger:
+	I fear my Julia would not deign my lines,
+	Receiving them from such a worthless post.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. Garden of JULIA's house.
+
+
+	[Enter JULlA and LUCETTA]
+
+JULIA	But say, Lucetta, now we are alone,
+	Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love?
+
+LUCETTA	Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully.
+
+JULIA	Of all the fair resort of gentlemen
+	That every day with parle encounter me,
+	In thy opinion which is worthiest love?
+
+LUCETTA	Please you repeat their names, I'll show my mind
+	According to my shallow simple skill.
+
+JULIA	What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour?
+
+LUCETTA	As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine;
+	But, were I you, he never should be mine.
+
+JULIA	What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio?
+
+LUCETTA	Well of his wealth; but of himself, so so.
+
+JULIA	What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus?
+
+LUCETTA	Lord, Lord! to see what folly reigns in us!
+
+JULIA	How now! what means this passion at his name?
+
+LUCETTA	Pardon, dear madam: 'tis a passing shame
+	That I, unworthy body as I am,
+	Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.
+
+JULIA	Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?
+
+LUCETTA	Then thus: of many good I think him best.
+
+JULIA	Your reason?
+
+LUCETTA	I have no other, but a woman's reason;
+	I think him so because I think him so.
+
+JULIA	And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him?
+
+LUCETTA	Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.
+
+JULIA	Why he, of all the rest, hath never moved me.
+
+LUCETTA	Yet he, of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.
+
+JULIA	His little speaking shows his love but small.
+
+LUCETTA	Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.
+
+JULIA	They do not love that do not show their love.
+
+LUCETTA	O, they love least that let men know their love.
+
+JULIA	I would I knew his mind.
+
+LUCETTA	Peruse this paper, madam.
+
+JULIA	'To Julia.' Say, from whom?
+
+LUCETTA	That the contents will show.
+
+JULIA	Say, say, who gave it thee?
+
+LUCETTA	Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from Proteus.
+	He would have given it you; but I, being in the way,
+	Did in your name receive it: pardon the
+	fault I pray.
+
+JULIA	Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!
+	Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?
+	To whisper and conspire against my youth?
+	Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth
+	And you an officer fit for the place.
+	Or else return no more into my sight.
+
+LUCETTA	To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.
+
+JULIA	Will ye be gone?
+
+LUCETTA	                  That you may ruminate.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+JULIA	And yet I would I had o'erlooked the letter:
+	It were a shame to call her back again
+	And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.
+	What a fool is she, that knows I am a maid,
+	And would not force the letter to my view!
+	Since maids, in modesty, say 'no' to that
+	Which they would have the profferer construe 'ay.'
+	Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love
+	That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse
+	And presently all humbled kiss the rod!
+	How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,
+	When willingly I would have had her here!
+	How angerly I taught my brow to frown,
+	When inward joy enforced my heart to smile!
+	My penance is to call Lucetta back
+	And ask remission for my folly past.
+	What ho! Lucetta!
+
+	[Re-enter LUCETTA]
+
+LUCETTA	                  What would your ladyship?
+
+JULIA	Is't near dinner-time?
+
+LUCETTA	I would it were,
+	That you might kill your stomach on your meat
+	And not upon your maid.
+
+JULIA	What is't that you took up so gingerly?
+
+LUCETTA	Nothing.
+
+JULIA	Why didst thou stoop, then?
+
+LUCETTA	To take a paper up that I let fall.
+
+JULIA	And is that paper nothing?
+
+LUCETTA	Nothing concerning me.
+
+JULIA	Then let it lie for those that it concerns.
+
+LUCETTA	Madam, it will not lie where it concerns
+	Unless it have a false interpeter.
+
+JULIA	Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.
+
+LUCETTA	That I might sing it, madam, to a tune.
+	Give me a note: your ladyship can set.
+
+JULIA	As little by such toys as may be possible.
+	Best sing it to the tune of 'Light o' love.'
+
+LUCETTA	It is too heavy for so light a tune.
+
+JULIA	Heavy! belike it hath some burden then?
+
+LUCETTA	Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it.
+
+JULIA	And why not you?
+
+LUCETTA	                  I cannot reach so high.
+
+JULIA	Let's see your song. How now, minion!
+
+LUCETTA	Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out:
+	And yet methinks I do not like this tune.
+
+JULIA	You do not?
+
+LUCETTA	          No, madam; it is too sharp.
+
+JULIA	You, minion, are too saucy.
+
+LUCETTA	Nay, now you are too flat
+	And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:
+	There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.
+
+JULIA	The mean is drown'd with your unruly bass.
+
+LUCETTA	Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.
+
+JULIA	This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
+	Here is a coil with protestation!
+
+	[Tears the letter]
+
+	Go get you gone, and let the papers lie:
+	You would be fingering them, to anger me.
+
+LUCETTA	She makes it strange; but she would be best pleased
+	To be so anger'd with another letter.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+JULIA	 Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same!
+	O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!
+	Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey
+	And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!
+	I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
+	Look, here is writ 'kind Julia.' Unkind Julia!
+	As in revenge of thy ingratitude,
+	I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
+	Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
+	And here is writ 'love-wounded Proteus.'
+	Poor wounded name! my bosom as a bed
+	Shall lodge thee till thy wound be thoroughly heal'd;
+	And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
+	But twice or thrice was 'Proteus' written down.
+	Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away
+	Till I have found each letter in the letter,
+	Except mine own name: that some whirlwind bear
+	Unto a ragged fearful-hanging rock
+	And throw it thence into the raging sea!
+	Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,
+	'Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
+	To the sweet Julia:' that I'll tear away.
+	And yet I will not, sith so prettily
+	He couples it to his complaining names.
+	Thus will I fold them one on another:
+	Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.
+
+	[Re-enter LUCETTA]
+
+LUCETTA	Madam,
+	Dinner is ready, and your father stays.
+
+JULIA	Well, let us go.
+
+LUCETTA	What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?
+
+JULIA	If you respect them, best to take them up.
+
+LUCETTA	Nay, I was taken up for laying them down:
+	Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold.
+
+JULIA	I see you have a month's mind to them.
+
+LUCETTA	Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see;
+	I see things too, although you judge I wink.
+
+JULIA	Come, come; will't please you go?
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. ANTONIO's house.
+
+
+	[Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO]
+
+ANTONIO	Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that
+	Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?
+
+PANTHINO	'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son.
+
+ANTONIO	Why, what of him?
+
+PANTHINO	                  He wonder'd that your lordship
+	Would suffer him to spend his youth at home,
+	While other men, of slender reputation,
+	Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
+	Some to the wars, to try their fortune there;
+	Some to discover islands far away;
+	Some to the studious universities.
+	For any or for all these exercises,
+	He said that Proteus your son was meet,
+	And did request me to importune you
+	To let him spend his time no more at home,
+	Which would be great impeachment to his age,
+	In having known no travel in his youth.
+
+ANTONIO	Nor need'st thou much importune me to that
+	Whereon this month I have been hammering.
+	I have consider'd well his loss of time
+	And how he cannot be a perfect man,
+	Not being tried and tutor'd in the world:
+	Experience is by industry achieved
+	And perfected by the swift course of time.
+	Then tell me, whither were I best to send him?
+
+PANTHINO	I think your lordship is not ignorant
+	How his companion, youthful Valentine,
+	Attends the emperor in his royal court.
+
+ANTONIO	I know it well.
+
+PANTHINO	'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither:
+	There shall he practise tilts and tournaments,
+	Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen.
+	And be in eye of every exercise
+	Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.
+
+ANTONIO	I like thy counsel; well hast thou advised:
+	And that thou mayst perceive how well I like it,
+	The execution of it shall make known.
+	Even with the speediest expedition
+	I will dispatch him to the emperor's court.
+
+PANTHINO	To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso,
+	With other gentlemen of good esteem,
+	Are journeying to salute the emperor
+	And to commend their service to his will.
+
+ANTONIO	Good company; with them shall Proteus go:
+	And, in good time! now will we break with him.
+
+	[Enter PROTEUS]
+
+PROTEUS	Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life!
+	Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;
+	Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn.
+	O, that our fathers would applaud our loves,
+	To seal our happiness with their consents!
+	O heavenly Julia!
+
+ANTONIO	How now! what letter are you reading there?
+
+PROTEUS	May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two
+	Of commendations sent from Valentine,
+	Deliver'd by a friend that came from him.
+
+ANTONIO	Lend me the letter; let me see what news.
+
+PROTEUS	There is no news, my lord, but that he writes
+	How happily he lives, how well beloved
+	And daily graced by the emperor;
+	Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.
+
+ANTONIO	And how stand you affected to his wish?
+
+PROTEUS	As one relying on your lordship's will
+	And not depending on his friendly wish.
+
+ANTONIO	My will is something sorted with his wish.
+	Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed;
+	For what I will, I will, and there an end.
+	I am resolved that thou shalt spend some time
+	With Valentinus in the emperor's court:
+	What maintenance he from his friends receives,
+	Like exhibition thou shalt have from me.
+	To-morrow be in readiness to go:
+	Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.
+
+PROTEUS	My lord, I cannot be so soon provided:
+	Please you, deliberate a day or two.
+
+ANTONIO	Look, what thou want'st shall be sent after thee:
+	No more of stay! to-morrow thou must go.
+	Come on, Panthino: you shall be employ'd
+	To hasten on his expedition.
+
+	[Exeunt ANTONIO and PANTHINO]
+
+PROTEUS	Thus have I shunn'd the fire for fear of burning,
+	And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd.
+	I fear'd to show my father Julia's letter,
+	Lest he should take exceptions to my love;
+	And with the vantage of mine own excuse
+	Hath he excepted most against my love.
+	O, how this spring of love resembleth
+	The uncertain glory of an April day,
+	Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,
+	And by and by a cloud takes all away!
+
+	[Re-enter PANTHINO]
+
+PANTHINO	Sir Proteus, your father calls for you:
+	He is in haste; therefore, I pray you to go.
+
+PROTEUS	Why, this it is: my heart accords thereto,
+	And yet a thousand times it answers 'no.'
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Milan. The DUKE's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter VALENTINE and SPEED]
+
+SPEED	Sir, your glove.
+
+VALENTINE	                  Not mine; my gloves are on.
+
+SPEED	Why, then, this may be yours, for this is but one.
+
+VALENTINE	Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine:
+	Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine!
+	Ah, Silvia, Silvia!
+
+SPEED	Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia!
+
+VALENTINE	How now, sirrah?
+
+SPEED	She is not within hearing, sir.
+
+VALENTINE	Why, sir, who bade you call her?
+
+SPEED	Your worship, sir; or else I mistook.
+
+VALENTINE	Well, you'll still be too forward.
+
+SPEED	And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.
+
+VALENTINE	Go to, sir: tell me, do you know Madam Silvia?
+
+SPEED	She that your worship loves?
+
+VALENTINE	Why, how know you that I am in love?
+
+SPEED	Marry, by these special marks: first, you have
+	learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your arms,
+	like a malecontent; to relish a love-song, like a
+	robin-redbreast; to walk alone, like one that had
+	the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy that had
+	lost his A B C; to weep, like a young wench that had
+	buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes
+	diet; to watch like one that fears robbing; to
+	speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were
+	wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you
+	walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you
+	fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you
+	looked sadly, it was for want of money: and now you
+	are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look
+	on you, I can hardly think you my master.
+
+VALENTINE	Are all these things perceived in me?
+
+SPEED	They are all perceived without ye.
+
+VALENTINE	Without me? they cannot.
+
+SPEED	Without you? nay, that's certain, for, without you
+	were so simple, none else would: but you are so
+	without these follies, that these follies are within
+	you and shine through you like the water in an
+	urinal, that not an eye that sees you but is a
+	physician to comment on your malady.
+
+VALENTINE	But tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia?
+
+SPEED	She that you gaze on so as she sits at supper?
+
+VALENTINE	Hast thou observed that? even she, I mean.
+
+SPEED	Why, sir, I know her not.
+
+VALENTINE	Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet
+	knowest her not?
+
+SPEED	Is she not hard-favoured, sir?
+
+VALENTINE	Not so fair, boy, as well-favoured.
+
+SPEED	Sir, I know that well enough.
+
+VALENTINE	What dost thou know?
+
+SPEED	That she is not so fair as, of you, well-favoured.
+
+VALENTINE	I mean that her beauty is exquisite, but her favour infinite.
+
+SPEED	That's because the one is painted and the other out
+	of all count.
+
+VALENTINE	How painted? and how out of count?
+
+SPEED	Marry, sir, so painted, to make her fair, that no
+	man counts of her beauty.
+
+VALENTINE	How esteemest thou me? I account of her beauty.
+
+SPEED	You never saw her since she was deformed.
+
+VALENTINE	How long hath she been deformed?
+
+SPEED	Ever since you loved her.
+
+VALENTINE	I have loved her ever since I saw her; and still I
+	see her beautiful.
+
+SPEED	If you love her, you cannot see her.
+
+VALENTINE	Why?
+
+SPEED	Because Love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes;
+	or your own eyes had the lights they were wont to
+	have when you chid at Sir Proteus for going
+	ungartered!
+
+VALENTINE	What should I see then?
+
+SPEED	Your own present folly and her passing deformity:
+	for he, being in love, could not see to garter his
+	hose, and you, being in love, cannot see to put on your hose.
+
+VALENTINE	Belike, boy, then, you are in love; for last
+	morning you could not see to wipe my shoes.
+
+SPEED	True, sir; I was in love with my bed: I thank you,
+	you swinged me for my love, which makes me the
+	bolder to chide you for yours.
+
+VALENTINE	In conclusion, I stand affected to her.
+
+SPEED	I would you were set, so your affection would cease.
+
+VALENTINE	Last night she enjoined me to write some lines to
+	one she loves.
+
+SPEED	And have you?
+
+VALENTINE	I have.
+
+SPEED	Are they not lamely writ?
+
+VALENTINE	No, boy, but as well as I can do them. Peace!
+	here she comes.
+
+SPEED	[Aside]  O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet!
+	Now will he interpret to her.
+
+	[Enter SILVIA]
+
+VALENTINE	Madam and mistress, a thousand good-morrows.
+
+SPEED	[Aside]  O, give ye good even! here's a million of manners.
+
+SILVIA	Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand.
+
+SPEED	[Aside]  He should give her interest and she gives it him.
+
+VALENTINE	As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter
+	Unto the secret nameless friend of yours;
+	Which I was much unwilling to proceed in
+	But for my duty to your ladyship.
+
+SILVIA	I thank you gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly done.
+
+VALENTINE	Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off;
+	For being ignorant to whom it goes
+	I writ at random, very doubtfully.
+
+SILVIA	Perchance you think too much of so much pains?
+
+VALENTINE	No, madam; so it stead you, I will write
+	Please you command, a thousand times as much; And yet--
+
+SILVIA	A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel;
+	And yet I will not name it; and yet I care not;
+	And yet take this again; and yet I thank you,
+	Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.
+
+SPEED	[Aside]  And yet you will; and yet another 'yet.'
+
+VALENTINE	What means your ladyship? do you not like it?
+
+SILVIA	Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ;
+	But since unwillingly, take them again.
+	Nay, take them.
+
+VALENTINE	Madam, they are for you.
+
+SILVIA	Ay, ay: you writ them, sir, at my request;
+	But I will none of them; they are for you;
+	I would have had them writ more movingly.
+
+VALENTINE	Please you, I'll write your ladyship another.
+
+SILVIA	And when it's writ, for my sake read it over,
+	And if it please you, so; if not, why, so.
+
+VALENTINE	If it please me, madam, what then?
+
+SILVIA	Why, if it please you, take it for your labour:
+	And so, good morrow, servant.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SPEED	O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,
+	As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple!
+	My master sues to her, and she hath
+	taught her suitor,
+	He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
+	O excellent device! was there ever heard a better,
+	That my master, being scribe, to himself should write
+	the letter?
+
+VALENTINE	How now, sir? what are you reasoning with yourself?
+
+SPEED	Nay, I was rhyming: 'tis you that have the reason.
+
+VALENTINE	To do what?
+
+SPEED	To be a spokesman for Madam Silvia.
+
+VALENTINE	To whom?
+
+SPEED	To yourself: why, she wooes you by a figure.
+
+VALENTINE	What figure?
+
+SPEED	By a letter, I should say.
+
+VALENTINE	Why, she hath not writ to me?
+
+SPEED	What need she, when she hath made you write to
+	yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest?
+
+VALENTINE	No, believe me.
+
+SPEED	No believing you, indeed, sir. But did you perceive
+	her earnest?
+
+VALENTINE	She gave me none, except an angry word.
+
+SPEED	Why, she hath given you a letter.
+
+VALENTINE	That's the letter I writ to her friend.
+
+SPEED	And that letter hath she delivered, and there an end.
+
+VALENTINE	I would it were no worse.
+
+SPEED	I'll warrant you, 'tis as well:
+	For often have you writ to her, and she, in modesty,
+	Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply;
+	Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind discover,
+	Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover.
+	All this I speak in print, for in print I found it.
+	Why muse you, sir? 'tis dinner-time.
+
+VALENTINE	I have dined.
+
+SPEED	Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can
+	feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my
+	victuals, and would fain have meat. O, be not like
+	your mistress; be moved, be moved.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Verona. JULIA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter PROTEUS and JULIA]
+
+PROTEUS	Have patience, gentle Julia.
+
+JULIA	I must, where is no remedy.
+
+PROTEUS	When possibly I can, I will return.
+
+JULIA	If you turn not, you will return the sooner.
+	Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.
+
+	[Giving a ring]
+
+PROTEUS	Why then, we'll make exchange; here, take you this.
+
+JULIA	And seal the bargain with a holy kiss.
+
+PROTEUS	Here is my hand for my true constancy;
+	And when that hour o'erslips me in the day
+	Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,
+	The next ensuing hour some foul mischance
+	Torment me for my love's forgetfulness!
+	My father stays my coming; answer not;
+	The tide is now: nay, not thy tide of tears;
+	That tide will stay me longer than I should.
+	Julia, farewell!
+
+	[Exit JULIA]
+
+	What, gone without a word?
+	Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;
+	For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
+
+	[Enter PANTHINO]
+
+PANTHINO	Sir Proteus, you are stay'd for.
+
+PROTEUS	Go; I come, I come.
+	Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog]
+
+LAUNCE	Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping;
+	all the kind of the Launces have this very fault. I
+	have received my proportion, like the prodigious
+	son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's
+	court. I think Crab, my dog, be the sourest-natured
+	dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father
+	wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat
+	wringing her hands, and all our house in a great
+	perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed
+	one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble stone, and
+	has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have
+	wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam,
+	having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my
+	parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it. This
+	shoe is my father: no, this left shoe is my father:
+	no, no, this left shoe is my mother: nay, that
+	cannot be so neither: yes, it is so, it is so, it
+	hath the worser sole. This shoe, with the hole in
+	it, is my mother, and this my father; a vengeance
+	on't! there 'tis: now, sit, this staff is my
+	sister, for, look you, she is as white as a lily and
+	as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid: I
+	am the dog: no, the dog is himself, and I am the
+	dog--Oh! the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so,
+	so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing:
+	now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping:
+	now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on. Now
+	come I to my mother: O, that she could speak now
+	like a wood woman! Well, I kiss her; why, there
+	'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down. Now
+	come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes. Now
+	the dog all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a
+	word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears.
+
+	[Enter PANTHINO]
+
+PANTHINO	Launce, away, away, aboard! thy master is shipped
+	and thou art to post after with oars. What's the
+	matter? why weepest thou, man? Away, ass! You'll
+	lose the tide, if you tarry any longer.
+
+LAUNCE	It is no matter if the tied were lost; for it is the
+	unkindest tied that ever any man tied.
+
+PANTHINO	What's the unkindest tide?
+
+LAUNCE	Why, he that's tied here, Crab, my dog.
+
+PANTHINO	Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood, and, in
+	losing the flood, lose thy voyage, and, in losing
+	thy voyage, lose thy master, and, in losing thy
+	master, lose thy service, and, in losing thy
+	service,--Why dost thou stop my mouth?
+
+LAUNCE	For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue.
+
+PANTHINO	Where should I lose my tongue?
+
+LAUNCE	In thy tale.
+
+PANTHINO	In thy tail!
+
+LAUNCE	Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and
+	the service, and the tied! Why, man, if the river
+	were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the
+	wind were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs.
+
+PANTHINO	Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee.
+
+LAUNCE	Sir, call me what thou darest.
+
+PANTHINO	Wilt thou go?
+
+LAUNCE	Well, I will go.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Milan. The DUKE's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter SILVIA, VALENTINE, THURIO, and SPEED]
+
+SILVIA	Servant!
+
+VALENTINE	Mistress?
+
+SPEED	Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you.
+
+VALENTINE	Ay, boy, it's for love.
+
+SPEED	Not of you.
+
+VALENTINE	Of my mistress, then.
+
+SPEED	'Twere good you knocked him.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SILVIA	Servant, you are sad.
+
+VALENTINE	Indeed, madam, I seem so.
+
+THURIO	Seem you that you are not?
+
+VALENTINE	Haply I do.
+
+THURIO	So do counterfeits.
+
+VALENTINE	So do you.
+
+THURIO	What seem I that I am not?
+
+VALENTINE	Wise.
+
+THURIO	What instance of the contrary?
+
+VALENTINE	Your folly.
+
+THURIO	And how quote you my folly?
+
+VALENTINE	I quote it in your jerkin.
+
+THURIO	My jerkin is a doublet.
+
+VALENTINE	Well, then, I'll double your folly.
+
+THURIO	How?
+
+SILVIA	What, angry, Sir Thurio! do you change colour?
+
+VALENTINE	Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of chameleon.
+
+THURIO	That hath more mind to feed on your blood than live
+	in your air.
+
+VALENTINE	You have said, sir.
+
+THURIO	Ay, sir, and done too, for this time.
+
+VALENTINE	I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin.
+
+SILVIA	A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.
+
+VALENTINE	'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver.
+
+SILVIA	Who is that, servant?
+
+VALENTINE	Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire. Sir
+	Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks,
+	and spends what he borrows kindly in your company.
+
+THURIO	Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall
+	make your wit bankrupt.
+
+VALENTINE	I know it well, sir; you have an exchequer of words,
+	and, I think, no other treasure to give your
+	followers, for it appears by their bare liveries,
+	that they live by your bare words.
+
+SILVIA	No more, gentlemen, no more:--here comes my father.
+
+	[Enter DUKE]
+
+DUKE	Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.
+	Sir Valentine, your father's in good health:
+	What say you to a letter from your friends
+	Of much good news?
+
+VALENTINE	                  My lord, I will be thankful.
+	To any happy messenger from thence.
+
+DUKE	Know ye Don Antonio, your countryman?
+
+VALENTINE	Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman
+	To be of worth and worthy estimation
+	And not without desert so well reputed.
+
+DUKE	Hath he not a son?
+
+VALENTINE	Ay, my good lord; a son that well deserves
+	The honour and regard of such a father.
+
+DUKE	You know him well?
+
+VALENTINE	I know him as myself; for from our infancy
+	We have conversed and spent our hours together:
+	And though myself have been an idle truant,
+	Omitting the sweet benefit of time
+	To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection,
+	Yet hath Sir Proteus, for that's his name,
+	Made use and fair advantage of his days;
+	His years but young, but his experience old;
+	His head unmellow'd, but his judgment ripe;
+	And, in a word, for far behind his worth
+	Comes all the praises that I now bestow,
+	He is complete in feature and in mind
+	With all good grace to grace a gentleman.
+
+DUKE	Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good,
+	He is as worthy for an empress' love
+	As meet to be an emperor's counsellor.
+	Well, sir, this gentleman is come to me,
+	With commendation from great potentates;
+	And here he means to spend his time awhile:
+	I think 'tis no unwelcome news to you.
+
+VALENTINE	Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he.
+
+DUKE	Welcome him then according to his worth.
+	Silvia, I speak to you, and you, Sir Thurio;
+	For Valentine, I need not cite him to it:
+	I will send him hither to you presently.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+VALENTINE	This is the gentleman I told your ladyship
+	Had come along with me, but that his mistress
+	Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks.
+
+SILVIA	Belike that now she hath enfranchised them
+	Upon some other pawn for fealty.
+
+VALENTINE	Nay, sure, I think she holds them prisoners still.
+
+SILVIA	Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind
+	How could he see his way to seek out you?
+
+VALENTINE	Why, lady, Love hath twenty pair of eyes.
+
+THURIO	They say that Love hath not an eye at all.
+
+VALENTINE	To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself:
+	Upon a homely object Love can wink.
+
+SILVIA	Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman.
+
+	[Exit THURIO]
+
+	[Enter PROTEUS]
+
+VALENTINE	Welcome, dear Proteus! Mistress, I beseech you,
+	Confirm his welcome with some special favour.
+
+SILVIA	His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,
+	If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from.
+
+VALENTINE	Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him
+	To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.
+
+SILVIA	Too low a mistress for so high a servant.
+
+PROTEUS	Not so, sweet lady: but too mean a servant
+	To have a look of such a worthy mistress.
+
+VALENTINE	Leave off discourse of disability:
+	Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant.
+
+PROTEUS	My duty will I boast of; nothing else.
+
+SILVIA	And duty never yet did want his meed:
+	Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress.
+
+PROTEUS	I'll die on him that says so but yourself.
+
+SILVIA	That you are welcome?
+
+PROTEUS	That you are worthless.
+
+	[Re-enter THURIO]
+
+THURIO	Madam, my lord your father would speak with you.
+
+SILVIA	I wait upon his pleasure. Come, Sir Thurio,
+	Go with me. Once more, new servant, welcome:
+	I'll leave you to confer of home affairs;
+	When you have done, we look to hear from you.
+
+PROTEUS	We'll both attend upon your ladyship.
+
+	[Exeunt SILVIA and THURIO]
+
+VALENTINE	Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came?
+
+PROTEUS	Your friends are well and have them much commended.
+
+VALENTINE	And how do yours?
+
+PROTEUS	                  I left them all in health.
+
+VALENTINE	How does your lady? and how thrives your love?
+
+PROTEUS	My tales of love were wont to weary you;
+	I know you joy not in a love discourse.
+
+VALENTINE	Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now:
+	I have done penance for contemning Love,
+	Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me
+	With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,
+	With nightly tears and daily heart-sore sighs;
+	For in revenge of my contempt of love,
+	Love hath chased sleep from my enthralled eyes
+	And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow.
+	O gentle Proteus, Love's a mighty lord,
+	And hath so humbled me, as, I confess,
+	There is no woe to his correction,
+	Nor to his service no such joy on earth.
+	Now no discourse, except it be of love;
+	Now can I break my fast, dine, sup and sleep,
+	Upon the very naked name of love.
+
+PROTEUS	Enough; I read your fortune in your eye.
+	Was this the idol that you worship so?
+
+VALENTINE	Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint?
+
+PROTEUS	No; but she is an earthly paragon.
+
+VALENTINE	Call her divine.
+
+PROTEUS	                  I will not flatter her.
+
+VALENTINE	O, flatter me; for love delights in praises.
+
+PROTEUS	When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills,
+	And I must minister the like to you.
+
+VALENTINE	Then speak the truth by her; if not divine,
+	Yet let her be a principality,
+	Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.
+
+PROTEUS	Except my mistress.
+
+VALENTINE	Sweet, except not any;
+	Except thou wilt except against my love.
+
+PROTEUS	Have I not reason to prefer mine own?
+
+VALENTINE	And I will help thee to prefer her too:
+	She shall be dignified with this high honour--
+	To bear my lady's train, lest the base earth
+	Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss
+	And, of so great a favour growing proud,
+	Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower
+	And make rough winter everlastingly.
+
+PROTEUS	Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this?
+
+VALENTINE	Pardon me, Proteus: all I can is nothing
+	To her whose worth makes other worthies nothing;
+	She is alone.
+
+PROTEUS	                  Then let her alone.
+
+VALENTINE	Not for the world: why, man, she is mine own,
+	And I as rich in having such a jewel
+	As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl,
+	The water nectar and the rocks pure gold.
+	Forgive me that I do not dream on thee,
+	Because thou see'st me dote upon my love.
+	My foolish rival, that her father likes
+	Only for his possessions are so huge,
+	Is gone with her along, and I must after,
+	For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy.
+
+PROTEUS	But she loves you?
+
+VALENTINE	Ay, and we are betroth'd: nay, more, our,
+	marriage-hour,
+	With all the cunning manner of our flight,
+	Determined of; how I must climb her window,
+	The ladder made of cords, and all the means
+	Plotted and 'greed on for my happiness.
+	Good Proteus, go with me to my chamber,
+	In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel.
+
+PROTEUS	Go on before; I shall inquire you forth:
+	I must unto the road, to disembark
+	Some necessaries that I needs must use,
+	And then I'll presently attend you.
+
+VALENTINE	Will you make haste?
+
+PROTEUS	I will.
+
+	[Exit VALENTINE]
+
+	Even as one heat another heat expels,
+	Or as one nail by strength drives out another,
+	So the remembrance of my former love
+	Is by a newer object quite forgotten.
+	Is it mine, or Valentine's praise,
+	Her true perfection, or my false transgression,
+	That makes me reasonless to reason thus?
+	She is fair; and so is Julia that I love--
+	That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd;
+	Which, like a waxen image, 'gainst a fire,
+	Bears no impression of the thing it was.
+	Methinks my zeal to Valentine is cold,
+	And that I love him not as I was wont.
+	O, but I love his lady too too much,
+	And that's the reason I love him so little.
+	How shall I dote on her with more advice,
+	That thus without advice begin to love her!
+	'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,
+	And that hath dazzled my reason's light;
+	But when I look on her perfections,
+	There is no reason but I shall be blind.
+	If I can cheque my erring love, I will;
+	If not, to compass her I'll use my skill.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The same. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter SPEED and LAUNCE severally]
+
+SPEED	Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Milan!
+
+LAUNCE	Forswear not thyself, sweet youth, for I am not
+	welcome. I reckon this always, that a man is never
+	undone till he be hanged, nor never welcome to a
+	place till some certain shot be paid and the hostess
+	say 'Welcome!'
+
+SPEED	Come on, you madcap, I'll to the alehouse with you
+	presently; where, for one shot of five pence, thou
+	shalt have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, how
+	did thy master part with Madam Julia?
+
+LAUNCE	Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted very
+	fairly in jest.
+
+SPEED	But shall she marry him?
+
+LAUNCE	No.
+
+SPEED	How then? shall he marry her?
+
+LAUNCE	No, neither.
+
+SPEED	What, are they broken?
+
+LAUNCE	No, they are both as whole as a fish.
+
+SPEED	Why, then, how stands the matter with them?
+
+LAUNCE	Marry, thus: when it stands well with him, it
+	stands well with her.
+
+SPEED	What an ass art thou! I understand thee not.
+
+LAUNCE	What a block art thou, that thou canst not! My
+	staff understands me.
+
+SPEED	What thou sayest?
+
+LAUNCE	Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'll but lean,
+	and my staff understands me.
+
+SPEED	It stands under thee, indeed.
+
+LAUNCE	Why, stand-under and under-stand is all one.
+
+SPEED	But tell me true, will't be a match?
+
+LAUNCE	Ask my dog: if he say ay, it will! if he say no,
+	it will; if he shake his tail and say nothing, it will.
+
+SPEED	The conclusion is then that it will.
+
+LAUNCE	Thou shalt never get such a secret from me but by a parable.
+
+SPEED	'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how sayest
+	thou, that my master is become a notable lover?
+
+LAUNCE	I never knew him otherwise.
+
+SPEED	Than how?
+
+LAUNCE	A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be.
+
+SPEED	Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest me.
+
+LAUNCE	Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy master.
+
+SPEED	I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover.
+
+LAUNCE	Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn himself
+	in love. If thou wilt, go with me to the alehouse;
+	if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the
+	name of a Christian.
+
+SPEED	Why?
+
+LAUNCE	Because thou hast not so much charity in thee as to
+	go to the ale with a Christian. Wilt thou go?
+
+SPEED	At thy service.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	The same. The DUKE'S palace.
+
+
+	[Enter PROTEUS]
+
+PROTEUS	To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn;
+	To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn;
+	To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn;
+	And even that power which gave me first my oath
+	Provokes me to this threefold perjury;
+	Love bade me swear and Love bids me forswear.
+	O sweet-suggesting Love, if thou hast sinned,
+	Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it!
+	At first I did adore a twinkling star,
+	But now I worship a celestial sun.
+	Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken,
+	And he wants wit that wants resolved will
+	To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.
+	Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
+	Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd
+	With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths.
+	I cannot leave to love, and yet I do;
+	But there I leave to love where I should love.
+	Julia I lose and Valentine I lose:
+	If I keep them, I needs must lose myself;
+	If I lose them, thus find I by their loss
+	For Valentine myself, for Julia Silvia.
+	I to myself am dearer than a friend,
+	For love is still most precious in itself;
+	And Silvia--witness Heaven, that made her fair!--
+	Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.
+	I will forget that Julia is alive,
+	Remembering that my love to her is dead;
+	And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,
+	Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.
+	I cannot now prove constant to myself,
+	Without some treachery used to Valentine.
+	This night he meaneth with a corded ladder
+	To climb celestial Silvia's chamber-window,
+	Myself in counsel, his competitor.
+	Now presently I'll give her father notice
+	Of their disguising and pretended flight;
+	Who, all enraged, will banish Valentine;
+	For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter;
+	But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross
+	By some sly trick blunt Thurio's dull proceeding.
+	Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,
+	As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Verona. JULIA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter JULIA and LUCETTA]
+
+JULIA	Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me;
+	And even in kind love I do conjure thee,
+	Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
+	Are visibly character'd and engraved,
+	To lesson me and tell me some good mean
+	How, with my honour, I may undertake
+	A journey to my loving Proteus.
+
+LUCETTA	Alas, the way is wearisome and long!
+
+JULIA	A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
+	To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;
+	Much less shall she that hath Love's wings to fly,
+	And when the flight is made to one so dear,
+	Of such divine perfection, as Sir Proteus.
+
+LUCETTA	Better forbear till Proteus make return.
+
+JULIA	O, know'st thou not his looks are my soul's food?
+	Pity the dearth that I have pined in,
+	By longing for that food so long a time.
+	Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,
+	Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow
+	As seek to quench the fire of love with words.
+
+LUCETTA	I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire,
+	But qualify the fire's extreme rage,
+	Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
+
+JULIA	The more thou damm'st it up, the more it burns.
+	The current that with gentle murmur glides,
+	Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;
+	But when his fair course is not hindered,
+	He makes sweet music with the enamell'ed stones,
+	Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
+	He overtaketh in his pilgrimage,
+	And so by many winding nooks he strays
+	With willing sport to the wild ocean.
+	Then let me go and hinder not my course
+	I'll be as patient as a gentle stream
+	And make a pastime of each weary step,
+	Till the last step have brought me to my love;
+	And there I'll rest, as after much turmoil
+	A blessed soul doth in Elysium.
+
+LUCETTA	But in what habit will you go along?
+
+JULIA	Not like a woman; for I would prevent
+	The loose encounters of lascivious men:
+	Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds
+	As may beseem some well-reputed page.
+
+LUCETTA	Why, then, your ladyship must cut your hair.
+
+JULIA	No, girl, I'll knit it up in silken strings
+	With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots.
+	To be fantastic may become a youth
+	Of greater time than I shall show to be.
+
+LUCETTA	What fashion, madam shall I make your breeches?
+
+JULIA	That fits as well as 'Tell me, good my lord,
+	What compass will you wear your farthingale?'
+	Why even what fashion thou best likest, Lucetta.
+
+LUCETTA	You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam.
+
+JULIA	Out, out, Lucetta! that would be ill-favour'd.
+
+LUCETTA	A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin,
+	Unless you have a codpiece to stick pins on.
+
+JULIA	Lucetta, as thou lovest me, let me have
+	What thou thinkest meet and is most mannerly.
+	But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me
+	For undertaking so unstaid a journey?
+	I fear me, it will make me scandalized.
+
+LUCETTA	If you think so, then stay at home and go not.
+
+JULIA	Nay, that I will not.
+
+LUCETTA	Then never dream on infamy, but go.
+	If Proteus like your journey when you come,
+	No matter who's displeased when you are gone:
+	I fear me, he will scarce be pleased withal.
+
+JULIA	That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear:
+	A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears
+	And instances of infinite of love
+	Warrant me welcome to my Proteus.
+
+LUCETTA	All these are servants to deceitful men.
+
+JULIA	Base men, that use them to so base effect!
+	But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth
+	His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles,
+	His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate,
+	His tears pure messengers sent from his heart,
+	His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth.
+
+LUCETTA	Pray heaven he prove so, when you come to him!
+
+JULIA	Now, as thou lovest me, do him not that wrong
+	To bear a hard opinion of his truth:
+	Only deserve my love by loving him;
+	And presently go with me to my chamber,
+	To take a note of what I stand in need of,
+	To furnish me upon my longing journey.
+	All that is mine I leave at thy dispose,
+	My goods, my lands, my reputation;
+	Only, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence.
+	Come, answer not, but to it presently!
+	I am impatient of my tarriance.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Milan. The DUKE's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROTEUS]
+
+DUKE	Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile;
+	We have some secrets to confer about.
+
+	[Exit THURIO]
+
+	Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me?
+
+PROTEUS	My gracious lord, that which I would discover
+	The law of friendship bids me to conceal;
+	But when I call to mind your gracious favours
+	Done to me, undeserving as I am,
+	My duty pricks me on to utter that
+	Which else no worldly good should draw from me.
+	Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend,
+	This night intends to steal away your daughter:
+	Myself am one made privy to the plot.
+	I know you have determined to bestow her
+	On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates;
+	And should she thus be stol'n away from you,
+	It would be much vexation to your age.
+	Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather chose
+	To cross my friend in his intended drift
+	Than, by concealing it, heap on your head
+	A pack of sorrows which would press you down,
+	Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.
+
+DUKE	Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care;
+	Which to requite, command me while I live.
+	This love of theirs myself have often seen,
+	Haply when they have judged me fast asleep,
+	And oftentimes have purposed to forbid
+	Sir Valentine her company and my court:
+	But fearing lest my jealous aim might err
+	And so unworthily disgrace the man,
+	A rashness that I ever yet have shunn'd,
+	I gave him gentle looks, thereby to find
+	That which thyself hast now disclosed to me.
+	And, that thou mayst perceive my fear of this,
+	Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested,
+	I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
+	The key whereof myself have ever kept;
+	And thence she cannot be convey'd away.
+
+PROTEUS	Know, noble lord, they have devised a mean
+	How he her chamber-window will ascend
+	And with a corded ladder fetch her down;
+	For which the youthful lover now is gone
+	And this way comes he with it presently;
+	Where, if it please you, you may intercept him.
+	But, good my Lord, do it so cunningly
+	That my discovery be not aimed at;
+	For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
+	Hath made me publisher of this pretence.
+
+DUKE	Upon mine honour, he shall never know
+	That I had any light from thee of this.
+
+PROTEUS	Adieu, my Lord; Sir Valentine is coming.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter VALENTINE]
+
+DUKE	Sir Valentine, whither away so fast?
+
+VALENTINE	Please it your grace, there is a messenger
+	That stays to bear my letters to my friends,
+	And I am going to deliver them.
+
+DUKE	Be they of much import?
+
+VALENTINE	The tenor of them doth but signify
+	My health and happy being at your court.
+
+DUKE	Nay then, no matter; stay with me awhile;
+	I am to break with thee of some affairs
+	That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret.
+	'Tis not unknown to thee that I have sought
+	To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter.
+
+VALENTINE	I know it well, my Lord; and, sure, the match
+	Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentleman
+	Is full of virtue, bounty, worth and qualities
+	Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter:
+	Cannot your Grace win her to fancy him?
+
+DUKE	No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward,
+	Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty,
+	Neither regarding that she is my child
+	Nor fearing me as if I were her father;
+	And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers,
+	Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her;
+	And, where I thought the remnant of mine age
+	Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty,
+	I now am full resolved to take a wife
+	And turn her out to who will take her in:
+	Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower;
+	For me and my possessions she esteems not.
+
+VALENTINE	What would your Grace have me to do in this?
+
+DUKE	There is a lady in Verona here
+	Whom I affect; but she is nice and coy
+	And nought esteems my aged eloquence:
+	Now therefore would I have thee to my tutor--
+	For long agone I have forgot to court;
+	Besides, the fashion of the time is changed--
+	How and which way I may bestow myself
+	To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.
+
+VALENTINE	Win her with gifts, if she respect not words:
+	Dumb jewels often in their silent kind
+	More than quick words do move a woman's mind.
+
+DUKE	But she did scorn a present that I sent her.
+
+VALENTINE	A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her.
+	Send her another; never give her o'er;
+	For scorn at first makes after-love the more.
+	If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
+	But rather to beget more love in you:
+	If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;
+	For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.
+	Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;
+	For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away!'
+	Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces;
+	Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces.
+	That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,
+	If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
+
+DUKE	But she I mean is promised by her friends
+	Unto a youthful gentleman of worth,
+	And kept severely from resort of men,
+	That no man hath access by day to her.
+
+VALENTINE	Why, then, I would resort to her by night.
+
+DUKE	Ay, but the doors be lock'd and keys kept safe,
+	That no man hath recourse to her by night.
+
+VALENTINE	What lets but one may enter at her window?
+
+DUKE	Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground,
+	And built so shelving that one cannot climb it
+	Without apparent hazard of his life.
+
+VALENTINE	Why then, a ladder quaintly made of cords,
+	To cast up, with a pair of anchoring hooks,
+	Would serve to scale another Hero's tower,
+	So bold Leander would adventure it.
+
+DUKE	Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood,
+	Advise me where I may have such a ladder.
+
+VALENTINE	When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me that.
+
+DUKE	This very night; for Love is like a child,
+	That longs for every thing that he can come by.
+
+VALENTINE	By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder.
+
+DUKE	But, hark thee; I will go to her alone:
+	How shall I best convey the ladder thither?
+
+VALENTINE	It will be light, my lord, that you may bear it
+	Under a cloak that is of any length.
+
+DUKE	A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn?
+
+VALENTINE	Ay, my good lord.
+
+DUKE	                  Then let me see thy cloak:
+	I'll get me one of such another length.
+
+VALENTINE	Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord.
+
+DUKE	How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak?
+	I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.
+	What letter is this same? What's here? 'To Silvia'!
+	And here an engine fit for my proceeding.
+	I'll be so bold to break the seal for once.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly,
+	And slaves they are to me that send them flying:
+	O, could their master come and go as lightly,
+	Himself would lodge where senseless they are lying!
+	My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them:
+	While I, their king, that hither them importune,
+	Do curse the grace that with such grace hath bless'd them,
+	Because myself do want my servants' fortune:
+	I curse myself, for they are sent by me,
+	That they should harbour where their lord would be.'
+	What's here?
+	'Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee.'
+	'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.
+	Why, Phaeton,--for thou art Merops' son,--
+	Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car
+	And with thy daring folly burn the world?
+	Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?
+	Go, base intruder! overweening slave!
+	Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates,
+	And think my patience, more than thy desert,
+	Is privilege for thy departure hence:
+	Thank me for this more than for all the favours
+	Which all too much I have bestow'd on thee.
+	But if thou linger in my territories
+	Longer than swiftest expedition
+	Will give thee time to leave our royal court,
+	By heaven! my wrath shall far exceed the love
+	I ever bore my daughter or thyself.
+	Be gone! I will not hear thy vain excuse;
+	But, as thou lovest thy life, make speed from hence.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+VALENTINE	And why not death rather than living torment?
+	To die is to be banish'd from myself;
+	And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her
+	Is self from self: a deadly banishment!
+	What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
+	What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
+	Unless it be to think that she is by
+	And feed upon the shadow of perfection
+	Except I be by Silvia in the night,
+	There is no music in the nightingale;
+	Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
+	There is no day for me to look upon;
+	She is my essence, and I leave to be,
+	If I be not by her fair influence
+	Foster'd, illumined, cherish'd, kept alive.
+	I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:
+	Tarry I here, I but attend on death:
+	But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.
+
+	[Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE]
+
+PROTEUS	Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out.
+
+LAUNCE	Soho, soho!
+
+PROTEUS	What seest thou?
+
+LAUNCE	Him we go to find: there's not a hair on's head
+	but 'tis a Valentine.
+
+PROTEUS	Valentine?
+
+VALENTINE	No.
+
+PROTEUS	Who then? his spirit?
+
+VALENTINE	Neither.
+
+PROTEUS	What then?
+
+VALENTINE	Nothing.
+
+LAUNCE	Can nothing speak? Master, shall I strike?
+
+PROTEUS	Who wouldst thou strike?
+
+LAUNCE	Nothing.
+
+PROTEUS	Villain, forbear.
+
+LAUNCE	Why, sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray you,--
+
+PROTEUS	Sirrah, I say, forbear. Friend Valentine, a word.
+
+VALENTINE	My ears are stopt and cannot hear good news,
+	So much of bad already hath possess'd them.
+
+PROTEUS	Then in dumb silence will I bury mine,
+	For they are harsh, untuneable and bad.
+
+VALENTINE	Is Silvia dead?
+
+PROTEUS	No, Valentine.
+
+VALENTINE	No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia.
+	Hath she forsworn me?
+
+PROTEUS	No, Valentine.
+
+VALENTINE	No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me.
+	What is your news?
+
+LAUNCE	Sir, there is a proclamation that you are vanished.
+
+PROTEUS	That thou art banished--O, that's the news!--
+	From hence, from Silvia and from me thy friend.
+
+VALENTINE	O, I have fed upon this woe already,
+	And now excess of it will make me surfeit.
+	Doth Silvia know that I am banished?
+
+PROTEUS	Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom--
+	Which, unreversed, stands in effectual force--
+	A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears:
+	Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd;
+	With them, upon her knees, her humble self;
+	Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them
+	As if but now they waxed pale for woe:
+	But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
+	Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
+	Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
+	But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
+	Besides, her intercession chafed him so,
+	When she for thy repeal was suppliant,
+	That to close prison he commanded her,
+	With many bitter threats of biding there.
+
+VALENTINE	No more; unless the next word that thou speak'st
+	Have some malignant power upon my life:
+	If so, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,
+	As ending anthem of my endless dolour.
+
+PROTEUS	Cease to lament for that thou canst not help,
+	And study help for that which thou lament'st.
+	Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
+	Here if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love;
+	Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
+	Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that
+	And manage it against despairing thoughts.
+	Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence;
+	Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd
+	Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
+	The time now serves not to expostulate:
+	Come, I'll convey thee through the city-gate;
+	And, ere I part with thee, confer at large
+	Of all that may concern thy love-affairs.
+	As thou lovest Silvia, though not for thyself,
+	Regard thy danger, and along with me!
+
+VALENTINE	I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy,
+	Bid him make haste and meet me at the North-gate.
+
+PROTEUS	Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine.
+
+VALENTINE	O my dear Silvia! Hapless Valentine!
+
+	[Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTEUS]
+
+LAUNCE	I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to
+	think my master is a kind of a knave: but that's
+	all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now
+	that knows me to be in love; yet I am in love; but a
+	team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor who
+	'tis I love; and yet 'tis a woman; but what woman, I
+	will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milkmaid; yet
+	'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips; yet 'tis
+	a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for
+	wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel;
+	which is much in a bare Christian.
+
+	[Pulling out a paper]
+
+	Here is the cate-log of her condition.
+	'Imprimis: She can fetch and carry.' Why, a horse
+	can do no more: nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only
+	carry; therefore is she better than a jade. 'Item:
+	She can milk;' look you, a sweet virtue in a maid
+	with clean hands.
+
+	[Enter SPEED]
+
+SPEED	How now, Signior Launce! what news with your
+	mastership?
+
+LAUNCE	With my master's ship? why, it is at sea.
+
+SPEED	Well, your old vice still; mistake the word. What
+	news, then, in your paper?
+
+LAUNCE	The blackest news that ever thou heardest.
+
+SPEED	Why, man, how black?
+
+LAUNCE	Why, as black as ink.
+
+SPEED	Let me read them.
+
+LAUNCE	Fie on thee, jolt-head! thou canst not read.
+
+SPEED	Thou liest; I can.
+
+LAUNCE	I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee?
+
+SPEED	Marry, the son of my grandfather.
+
+LAUNCE	O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy
+	grandmother: this proves that thou canst not read.
+
+SPEED	Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper.
+
+LAUNCE	There; and St. Nicholas be thy speed!
+
+SPEED	[Reads]  'Imprimis: She can milk.'
+
+LAUNCE	Ay, that she can.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She brews good ale.'
+
+LAUNCE	And thereof comes the proverb: 'Blessing of your
+	heart, you brew good ale.'
+
+SPEED	'Item: She can sew.'
+
+LAUNCE	That's as much as to say, Can she so?
+
+SPEED	'Item: She can knit.'
+
+LAUNCE	What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when
+	she can knit him a stock?
+
+SPEED	'Item: She can wash and scour.'
+
+LAUNCE	A special virtue: for then she need not be washed
+	and scoured.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She can spin.'
+
+LAUNCE	Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can
+	spin for her living.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She hath many nameless virtues.'
+
+LAUNCE	That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that,
+	indeed, know not their fathers and therefore have no names.
+
+SPEED	'Here follow her vices.'
+
+LAUNCE	Close at the heels of her virtues.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She is not to be kissed fasting in respect
+	of her breath.'
+
+LAUNCE	Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast. Read on.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She hath a sweet mouth.'
+
+LAUNCE	That makes amends for her sour breath.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She doth talk in her sleep.'
+
+LAUNCE	It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She is slow in words.'
+
+LAUNCE	O villain, that set this down among her vices! To
+	be slow in words is a woman's only virtue: I pray
+	thee, out with't, and place it for her chief virtue.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She is proud.'
+
+LAUNCE	Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot
+	be ta'en from her.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She hath no teeth.'
+
+LAUNCE	I care not for that neither, because I love crusts.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She is curst.'
+
+LAUNCE	Well, the best is, she hath no teeth to bite.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She will often praise her liquor.'
+
+LAUNCE	If her liquor be good, she shall: if she will not, I
+	will; for good things should be praised.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She is too liberal.'
+
+LAUNCE	Of her tongue she cannot, for that's writ down she
+	is slow of; of her purse she shall not, for that
+	I'll keep shut: now, of another thing she may, and
+	that cannot I help. Well, proceed.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She hath more hair than wit, and more faults
+	than hairs, and more wealth than faults.'
+
+LAUNCE	Stop there; I'll have her: she was mine, and not
+	mine, twice or thrice in that last article.
+	Rehearse that once more.
+
+SPEED	'Item: She hath more hair than wit,'--
+
+LAUNCE	More hair than wit? It may be; I'll prove it. The
+	cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it
+	is more than the salt; the hair that covers the wit
+	is more than the wit, for the greater hides the
+	less. What's next?
+
+SPEED	'And more faults than hairs,'--
+
+LAUNCE	That's monstrous: O, that that were out!
+
+SPEED	'And more wealth than faults.'
+
+LAUNCE	Why, that word makes the faults gracious. Well,
+	I'll have her; and if it be a match, as nothing is
+	impossible,--
+
+SPEED	What then?
+
+LAUNCE	Why, then will I tell thee--that thy master stays
+	for thee at the North-gate.
+
+SPEED	For me?
+
+LAUNCE	For thee! ay, who art thou? he hath stayed for a
+	better man than thee.
+
+SPEED	And must I go to him?
+
+LAUNCE	Thou must run to him, for thou hast stayed so long
+	that going will scarce serve the turn.
+
+SPEED	Why didst not tell me sooner? pox of your love letters!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LAUNCE	Now will he be swinged for reading my letter; an
+	unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into
+	secrets! I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. The DUKE's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE and THURIO]
+
+DUKE	Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you,
+	Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight.
+
+THURIO	Since his exile she hath despised me most,
+	Forsworn my company and rail'd at me,
+	That I am desperate of obtaining her.
+
+DUKE	This weak impress of love is as a figure
+	Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat
+	Dissolves to water and doth lose his form.
+	A little time will melt her frozen thoughts
+	And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.
+
+	[Enter PROTEUS]
+
+	How now, Sir Proteus! Is your countryman
+	According to our proclamation gone?
+
+PROTEUS	Gone, my good lord.
+
+DUKE	My daughter takes his going grievously.
+
+PROTEUS	A little time, my lord, will kill that grief.
+
+DUKE	So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so.
+	Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee--
+	For thou hast shown some sign of good desert--
+	Makes me the better to confer with thee.
+
+PROTEUS	Longer than I prove loyal to your grace
+	Let me not live to look upon your grace.
+
+DUKE	Thou know'st how willingly I would effect
+	The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter.
+
+PROTEUS	I do, my lord.
+
+DUKE	And also, I think, thou art not ignorant
+	How she opposes her against my will
+
+PROTEUS	She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.
+
+DUKE	Ay, and perversely she persevers so.
+	What might we do to make the girl forget
+	The love of Valentine and love Sir Thurio?
+
+PROTEUS	The best way is to slander Valentine
+	With falsehood, cowardice and poor descent,
+	Three things that women highly hold in hate.
+
+DUKE	Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate.
+
+PROTEUS	Ay, if his enemy deliver it:
+	Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken
+	By one whom she esteemeth as his friend.
+
+DUKE	Then you must undertake to slander him.
+
+PROTEUS	And that, my lord, I shall be loath to do:
+	'Tis an ill office for a gentleman,
+	Especially against his very friend.
+
+DUKE	Where your good word cannot advantage him,
+	Your slander never can endamage him;
+	Therefore the office is indifferent,
+	Being entreated to it by your friend.
+
+PROTEUS	You have prevail'd, my lord; if I can do it
+	By ought that I can speak in his dispraise,
+	She shall not long continue love to him.
+	But say this weed her love from Valentine,
+	It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio.
+
+THURIO	Therefore, as you unwind her love from him,
+	Lest it should ravel and be good to none,
+	You must provide to bottom it on me;
+	Which must be done by praising me as much
+	As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine.
+
+DUKE	And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind,
+	Because we know, on Valentine's report,
+	You are already Love's firm votary
+	And cannot soon revolt and change your mind.
+	Upon this warrant shall you have access
+	Where you with Silvia may confer at large;
+	For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,
+	And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of you;
+	Where you may temper her by your persuasion
+	To hate young Valentine and love my friend.
+
+PROTEUS	As much as I can do, I will effect:
+	But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;
+	You must lay lime to tangle her desires
+	By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
+	Should be full-fraught with serviceable vows.
+
+DUKE	Ay,
+	Much is the force of heaven-bred poesy.
+
+PROTEUS	Say that upon the altar of her beauty
+	You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart:
+	Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears
+	Moist it again, and frame some feeling line
+	That may discover such integrity:
+	For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews,
+	Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,
+	Make tigers tame and huge leviathans
+	Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
+	After your dire-lamenting elegies,
+	Visit by night your lady's chamber-window
+	With some sweet concert; to their instruments
+	Tune a deploring dump: the night's dead silence
+	Will well become such sweet-complaining grievance.
+	This, or else nothing, will inherit her.
+
+DUKE	This discipline shows thou hast been in love.
+
+THURIO	And thy advice this night I'll put in practise.
+	Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,
+	Let us into the city presently
+	To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music.
+	I have a sonnet that will serve the turn
+	To give the onset to thy good advice.
+
+DUKE	About it, gentlemen!
+
+PROTEUS	We'll wait upon your grace till after supper,
+	And afterward determine our proceedings.
+
+DUKE	Even now about it! I will pardon you.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The frontiers of Mantua. A forest.
+
+
+	[Enter certain Outlaws]
+
+First Outlaw	Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger.
+
+Second Outlaw	If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em.
+
+	[Enter VALENTINE and SPEED]
+
+Third Outlaw	Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about ye:
+	If not: we'll make you sit and rifle you.
+
+SPEED	Sir, we are undone; these are the villains
+	That all the travellers do fear so much.
+
+VALENTINE	My friends,--
+
+First Outlaw	That's not so, sir: we are your enemies.
+
+Second Outlaw	Peace! we'll hear him.
+
+Third Outlaw	Ay, by my beard, will we, for he's a proper man.
+
+VALENTINE	Then know that I have little wealth to lose:
+	A man I am cross'd with adversity;
+	My riches are these poor habiliments,
+	Of which if you should here disfurnish me,
+	You take the sum and substance that I have.
+
+Second Outlaw	Whither travel you?
+
+VALENTINE	To Verona.
+
+First Outlaw	Whence came you?
+
+VALENTINE	From Milan.
+
+Third Outlaw	Have you long sojourned there?
+
+VALENTINE	Some sixteen months, and longer might have stay'd,
+	If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.
+
+First Outlaw	What, were you banish'd thence?
+
+VALENTINE	I was.
+
+Second Outlaw	For what offence?
+
+VALENTINE	For that which now torments me to rehearse:
+	I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent;
+	But yet I slew him manfully in fight,
+	Without false vantage or base treachery.
+
+First Outlaw	Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so.
+	But were you banish'd for so small a fault?
+
+VALENTINE	I was, and held me glad of such a doom.
+
+Second Outlaw	Have you the tongues?
+
+VALENTINE	My youthful travel therein made me happy,
+	Or else I often had been miserable.
+
+Third Outlaw	By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar,
+	This fellow were a king for our wild faction!
+
+First Outlaw	We'll have him. Sirs, a word.
+
+SPEED	Master, be one of them; it's an honourable kind of thievery.
+
+VALENTINE	Peace, villain!
+
+Second Outlaw	Tell us this: have you any thing to take to?
+
+VALENTINE	Nothing but my fortune.
+
+Third Outlaw	Know, then, that some of us are gentlemen,
+	Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth
+	Thrust from the company of awful men:
+	Myself was from Verona banished
+	For practising to steal away a lady,
+	An heir, and near allied unto the duke.
+
+Second Outlaw	And I from Mantua, for a gentleman,
+	Who, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart.
+
+First Outlaw	And I for such like petty crimes as these,
+	But to the purpose--for we cite our faults,
+	That they may hold excus'd our lawless lives;
+	And partly, seeing you are beautified
+	With goodly shape and by your own report
+	A linguist and a man of such perfection
+	As we do in our quality much want--
+
+Second Outlaw	Indeed, because you are a banish'd man,
+	Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you:
+	Are you content to be our general?
+	To make a virtue of necessity
+	And live, as we do, in this wilderness?
+
+Third Outlaw	What say'st thou? wilt thou be of our consort?
+	Say ay, and be the captain of us all:
+	We'll do thee homage and be ruled by thee,
+	Love thee as our commander and our king.
+
+First Outlaw	But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest.
+
+Second Outlaw	Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offer'd.
+
+VALENTINE	I take your offer and will live with you,
+	Provided that you do no outrages
+	On silly women or poor passengers.
+
+Third Outlaw	No, we detest such vile base practises.
+	Come, go with us, we'll bring thee to our crews,
+	And show thee all the treasure we have got,
+	Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Milan. Outside the DUKE's palace, under SILVIA's chamber.
+
+
+	[Enter PROTEUS]
+
+PROTEUS	Already have I been false to Valentine
+	And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.
+	Under the colour of commending him,
+	I have access my own love to prefer:
+	But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy,
+	To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
+	When I protest true loyalty to her,
+	She twits me with my falsehood to my friend;
+	When to her beauty I commend my vows,
+	She bids me think how I have been forsworn
+	In breaking faith with Julia whom I loved:
+	And notwithstanding all her sudden quips,
+	The least whereof would quell a lover's hope,
+	Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love,
+	The more it grows and fawneth on her still.
+	But here comes Thurio: now must we to her window,
+	And give some evening music to her ear.
+
+	[Enter THURIO and Musicians]
+
+THURIO	How now, Sir Proteus, are you crept before us?
+
+PROTEUS	Ay, gentle Thurio: for you know that love
+	Will creep in service where it cannot go.
+
+THURIO	Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here.
+
+PROTEUS	Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence.
+
+THURIO	Who? Silvia?
+
+PROTEUS	                  Ay, Silvia; for your sake.
+
+THURIO	I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen,
+	Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile.
+
+	[Enter, at a distance, Host, and JULIA in boy's clothes]
+
+Host	Now, my young guest, methinks you're allycholly: I
+	pray you, why is it?
+
+JULIA	Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry.
+
+Host	Come, we'll have you merry: I'll bring you where
+	you shall hear music and see the gentleman that you asked for.
+
+JULIA	But shall I hear him speak?
+
+Host	Ay, that you shall.
+
+JULIA	That will be music.
+
+	[Music plays]
+
+Host	Hark, hark!
+
+JULIA	Is he among these?
+
+Host	Ay: but, peace! let's hear 'em.
+
+	SONG.
+	Who is Silvia? what is she,
+	That all our swains commend her?
+	Holy, fair and wise is she;
+	The heaven such grace did lend her,
+	That she might admired be.
+
+	Is she kind as she is fair?
+	For beauty lives with kindness.
+	Love doth to her eyes repair,
+	To help him of his blindness,
+	And, being help'd, inhabits there.
+
+	Then to Silvia let us sing,
+	That Silvia is excelling;
+	She excels each mortal thing
+	Upon the dull earth dwelling:
+	To her let us garlands bring.
+
+Host	How now! are you sadder than you were before? How
+	do you, man? the music likes you not.
+
+JULIA	You mistake; the musician likes me not.
+
+Host	Why, my pretty youth?
+
+JULIA	He plays false, father.
+
+Host	How? out of tune on the strings?
+
+JULIA	Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my very
+	heart-strings.
+
+Host	You have a quick ear.
+
+JULIA	Ay, I would I were deaf; it makes me have a slow heart.
+
+Host	I perceive you delight not in music.
+
+JULIA	Not a whit, when it jars so.
+
+Host	Hark, what fine change is in the music!
+
+JULIA	Ay, that change is the spite.
+
+Host	You would have them always play but one thing?
+
+JULIA	I would always have one play but one thing.
+	But, host, doth this Sir Proteus that we talk on
+	Often resort unto this gentlewoman?
+
+Host	I tell you what Launce, his man, told me: he loved
+	her out of all nick.
+
+JULIA	Where is Launce?
+
+Host	Gone to seek his dog; which tomorrow, by his
+	master's command, he must carry for a present to his lady.
+
+JULIA	Peace! stand aside: the company parts.
+
+PROTEUS	Sir Thurio, fear not you: I will so plead
+	That you shall say my cunning drift excels.
+
+THURIO	Where meet we?
+
+PROTEUS	                  At Saint Gregory's well.
+
+THURIO	Farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt THURIO and Musicians]
+
+	[Enter SILVIA above]
+
+PROTEUS	Madam, good even to your ladyship.
+
+SILVIA	I thank you for your music, gentlemen.
+	Who is that that spake?
+
+PROTEUS	One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth,
+	You would quickly learn to know him by his voice.
+
+SILVIA	Sir Proteus, as I take it.
+
+PROTEUS	Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant.
+
+SILVIA	What's your will?
+
+PROTEUS	                  That I may compass yours.
+
+SILVIA	You have your wish; my will is even this:
+	That presently you hie you home to bed.
+	Thou subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man!
+	Think'st thou I am so shallow, so conceitless,
+	To be seduced by thy flattery,
+	That hast deceived so many with thy vows?
+	Return, return, and make thy love amends.
+	For me, by this pale queen of night I swear,
+	I am so far from granting thy request
+	That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit,
+	And by and by intend to chide myself
+	Even for this time I spend in talking to thee.
+
+PROTEUS	I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady;
+	But she is dead.
+
+JULIA	[Aside]        'Twere false, if I should speak it;
+	For I am sure she is not buried.
+
+SILVIA	Say that she be; yet Valentine thy friend
+	Survives; to whom, thyself art witness,
+	I am betroth'd: and art thou not ashamed
+	To wrong him with thy importunacy?
+
+PROTEUS	I likewise hear that Valentine is dead.
+
+SILVIA	And so suppose am I; for in his grave
+	Assure thyself my love is buried.
+
+PROTEUS	Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth.
+
+SILVIA	Go to thy lady's grave and call hers thence,
+	Or, at the least, in hers sepulchre thine.
+
+JULIA	[Aside]  He heard not that.
+
+PROTEUS	Madam, if your heart be so obdurate,
+	Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love,
+	The picture that is hanging in your chamber;
+	To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep:
+	For since the substance of your perfect self
+	Is else devoted, I am but a shadow;
+	And to your shadow will I make true love.
+
+JULIA	[Aside]  If 'twere a substance, you would, sure,
+	deceive it,
+	And make it but a shadow, as I am.
+
+SILVIA	I am very loath to be your idol, sir;
+	But since your falsehood shall become you well
+	To worship shadows and adore false shapes,
+	Send to me in the morning and I'll send it:
+	And so, good rest.
+
+PROTEUS	                  As wretches have o'ernight
+	That wait for execution in the morn.
+
+	[Exeunt PROTEUS and SILVIA severally]
+
+JULIA	Host, will you go?
+
+Host	By my halidom, I was fast asleep.
+
+JULIA	Pray you, where lies Sir Proteus?
+
+Host	Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think 'tis almost
+	day.
+
+JULIA	Not so; but it hath been the longest night
+	That e'er I watch'd and the most heaviest.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter EGLAMOUR]
+
+EGLAMOUR	This is the hour that Madam Silvia
+	Entreated me to call and know her mind:
+	There's some great matter she'ld employ me in.
+	Madam, madam!
+
+	[Enter SILVIA above]
+
+SILVIA	                  Who calls?
+
+EGLAMOUR	Your servant and your friend;
+	One that attends your ladyship's command.
+
+SILVIA	Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good morrow.
+
+EGLAMOUR	As many, worthy lady, to yourself:
+	According to your ladyship's impose,
+	I am thus early come to know what service
+	It is your pleasure to command me in.
+
+SILVIA	O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman--
+	Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not--
+	Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplish'd:
+	Thou art not ignorant what dear good will
+	I bear unto the banish'd Valentine,
+	Nor how my father would enforce me marry
+	Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhors.
+	Thyself hast loved; and I have heard thee say
+	No grief did ever come so near thy heart
+	As when thy lady and thy true love died,
+	Upon whose grave thou vow'dst pure chastity.
+	Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,
+	To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode;
+	And, for the ways are dangerous to pass,
+	I do desire thy worthy company,
+	Upon whose faith and honour I repose.
+	Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour,
+	But think upon my grief, a lady's grief,
+	And on the justice of my flying hence,
+	To keep me from a most unholy match,
+	Which heaven and fortune still rewards with plagues.
+	I do desire thee, even from a heart
+	As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,
+	To bear me company and go with me:
+	If not, to hide what I have said to thee,
+	That I may venture to depart alone.
+
+EGLAMOUR	Madam, I pity much your grievances;
+	Which since I know they virtuously are placed,
+	I give consent to go along with you,
+	Recking as little what betideth me
+	As much I wish all good befortune you.
+	When will you go?
+
+SILVIA	                  This evening coming.
+
+EGLAMOUR	Where shall I meet you?
+
+SILVIA	At Friar Patrick's cell,
+	Where I intend holy confession.
+
+EGLAMOUR	I will not fail your ladyship. Good morrow, gentle lady.
+
+SILVIA	Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour.
+
+	[Exeunt severally]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter LAUNCE, with his his Dog]
+
+LAUNCE	When a man's servant shall play the cur with him,
+	look you, it goes hard: one that I brought up of a
+	puppy; one that I saved from drowning, when three or
+	four of his blind brothers and sisters went to it.
+	I have taught him, even as one would say precisely,
+	'thus I would teach a dog.' I was sent to deliver
+	him as a present to Mistress Silvia from my master;
+	and I came no sooner into the dining-chamber but he
+	steps me to her trencher and steals her capon's leg:
+	O, 'tis a foul thing when a cur cannot keep himself
+	in all companies! I would have, as one should say,
+	one that takes upon him to be a dog indeed, to be,
+	as it were, a dog at all things. If I had not had
+	more wit than he, to take a fault upon me that he did,
+	I think verily he had been hanged for't; sure as I
+	live, he had suffered for't; you shall judge. He
+	thrusts me himself into the company of three or four
+	gentlemanlike dogs under the duke's table: he had
+	not been there--bless the mark!--a pissing while, but
+	all the chamber smelt him. 'Out with the dog!' says
+	one: 'What cur is that?' says another: 'Whip him
+	out' says the third: 'Hang him up' says the duke.
+	I, having been acquainted with the smell before,
+	knew it was Crab, and goes me to the fellow that
+	whips the dogs: 'Friend,' quoth I, 'you mean to whip
+	the dog?' 'Ay, marry, do I,' quoth he. 'You do him
+	the more wrong,' quoth I; ''twas I did the thing you
+	wot of.' He makes me no more ado, but whips me out
+	of the chamber. How many masters would do this for
+	his servant? Nay, I'll be sworn, I have sat in the
+	stocks for puddings he hath stolen, otherwise he had
+	been executed; I have stood on the pillory for geese
+	he hath killed, otherwise he had suffered for't.
+	Thou thinkest not of this now. Nay, I remember the
+	trick you served me when I took my leave of Madam
+	Silvia: did not I bid thee still mark me and do as I
+	do? when didst thou see me heave up my leg and make
+	water against a gentlewoman's farthingale? didst
+	thou ever see me do such a trick?
+
+	[Enter PROTEUS and JULIA]
+
+PROTEUS	Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well
+	And will employ thee in some service presently.
+
+JULIA	In what you please: I'll do what I can.
+
+PROTEUS	I hope thou wilt.
+
+	[To LAUNCE]
+
+	How now, you whoreson peasant!
+	Where have you been these two days loitering?
+
+LAUNCE	Marry, sir, I carried Mistress Silvia the dog you bade me.
+
+PROTEUS	And what says she to my little jewel?
+
+LAUNCE	Marry, she says your dog was a cur, and tells you
+	currish thanks is good enough for such a present.
+
+PROTEUS	But she received my dog?
+
+LAUNCE	No, indeed, did she not: here have I brought him
+	back again.
+
+PROTEUS	What, didst thou offer her this from me?
+
+LAUNCE	Ay, sir: the other squirrel was stolen from me by
+	the hangman boys in the market-place: and then I
+	offered her mine own, who is a dog as big as ten of
+	yours, and therefore the gift the greater.
+
+PROTEUS	Go get thee hence, and find my dog again,
+	Or ne'er return again into my sight.
+	Away, I say! stay'st thou to vex me here?
+
+	[Exit LAUNCE]
+
+	A slave, that still an end turns me to shame!
+	Sebastian, I have entertained thee,
+	Partly that I have need of such a youth
+	That can with some discretion do my business,
+	For 'tis no trusting to yond foolish lout,
+	But chiefly for thy face and thy behavior,
+	Which, if my augury deceive me not,
+	Witness good bringing up, fortune and truth:
+	Therefore know thou, for this I entertain thee.
+	Go presently and take this ring with thee,
+	Deliver it to Madam Silvia:
+	She loved me well deliver'd it to me.
+
+JULIA	It seems you loved not her, to leave her token.
+	She is dead, belike?
+
+PROTEUS	Not so; I think she lives.
+
+JULIA	Alas!
+
+PROTEUS	Why dost thou cry 'alas'?
+
+JULIA	I cannot choose
+	But pity her.
+
+PROTEUS	                  Wherefore shouldst thou pity her?
+
+JULIA	Because methinks that she loved you as well
+	As you do love your lady Silvia:
+	She dreams of him that has forgot her love;
+	You dote on her that cares not for your love.
+	'Tis pity love should be so contrary;
+	And thinking of it makes me cry 'alas!'
+
+PROTEUS	Well, give her that ring and therewithal
+	This letter. That's her chamber. Tell my lady
+	I claim the promise for her heavenly picture.
+	Your message done, hie home unto my chamber,
+	Where thou shalt find me, sad and solitary.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+JULIA	How many women would do such a message?
+	Alas, poor Proteus! thou hast entertain'd
+	A fox to be the shepherd of thy lambs.
+	Alas, poor fool! why do I pity him
+	That with his very heart despiseth me?
+	Because he loves her, he despiseth me;
+	Because I love him I must pity him.
+	This ring I gave him when he parted from me,
+	To bind him to remember my good will;
+	And now am I, unhappy messenger,
+	To plead for that which I would not obtain,
+	To carry that which I would have refused,
+	To praise his faith which I would have dispraised.
+	I am my master's true-confirmed love;
+	But cannot be true servant to my master,
+	Unless I prove false traitor to myself.
+	Yet will I woo for him, but yet so coldly
+	As, heaven it knows, I would not have him speed.
+
+	[Enter SILVIA, attended]
+
+	Gentlewoman, good day! I pray you, be my mean
+	To bring me where to speak with Madam Silvia.
+
+SILVIA	What would you with her, if that I be she?
+
+JULIA	If you be she, I do entreat your patience
+	To hear me speak the message I am sent on.
+
+SILVIA	From whom?
+
+JULIA	From my master, Sir Proteus, madam.
+
+SILVIA	O, he sends you for a picture.
+
+JULIA	Ay, madam.
+
+SILVIA	Ursula, bring my picture here.
+	Go give your master this: tell him from me,
+	One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget,
+	Would better fit his chamber than this shadow.
+
+JULIA	Madam, please you peruse this letter.--
+	Pardon me, madam; I have unadvised
+	Deliver'd you a paper that I should not:
+	This is the letter to your ladyship.
+
+SILVIA	I pray thee, let me look on that again.
+
+JULIA	It may not be; good madam, pardon me.
+
+SILVIA	There, hold!
+	I will not look upon your master's lines:
+	I know they are stuff'd with protestations
+	And full of new-found oaths; which he will break
+	As easily as I do tear his paper.
+
+JULIA	Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring.
+
+SILVIA	The more shame for him that he sends it me;
+	For I have heard him say a thousand times
+	His Julia gave it him at his departure.
+	Though his false finger have profaned the ring,
+	Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong.
+
+JULIA	She thanks you.
+
+SILVIA	What say'st thou?
+
+JULIA	I thank you, madam, that you tender her.
+	Poor gentlewoman! my master wrongs her much.
+
+SILVIA	Dost thou know her?
+
+JULIA	Almost as well as I do know myself:
+	To think upon her woes I do protest
+	That I have wept a hundred several times.
+
+SILVIA	Belike she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her.
+
+JULIA	I think she doth; and that's her cause of sorrow.
+
+SILVIA	Is she not passing fair?
+
+JULIA	She hath been fairer, madam, than she is:
+	When she did think my master loved her well,
+	She, in my judgment, was as fair as you:
+	But since she did neglect her looking-glass
+	And threw her sun-expelling mask away,
+	The air hath starved the roses in her cheeks
+	And pinch'd the lily-tincture of her face,
+	That now she is become as black as I.
+
+SILVIA	How tall was she?
+
+JULIA	About my stature; for at Pentecost,
+	When all our pageants of delight were play'd,
+	Our youth got me to play the woman's part,
+	And I was trimm'd in Madam Julia's gown,
+	Which served me as fit, by all men's judgments,
+	As if the garment had been made for me:
+	Therefore I know she is about my height.
+	And at that time I made her weep agood,
+	For I did play a lamentable part:
+	Madam, 'twas Ariadne passioning
+	For Theseus' perjury and unjust flight;
+	Which I so lively acted with my tears
+	That my poor mistress, moved therewithal,
+	Wept bitterly; and would I might be dead
+	If I in thought felt not her very sorrow!
+
+SILVIA	She is beholding to thee, gentle youth.
+	Alas, poor lady, desolate and left!
+	I weep myself to think upon thy words.
+	Here, youth, there is my purse; I give thee this
+	For thy sweet mistress' sake, because thou lovest her.
+	Farewell.
+
+	[Exit SILVIA, with attendants]
+
+JULIA	And she shall thank you for't, if e'er you know her.
+	A virtuous gentlewoman, mild and beautiful
+	I hope my master's suit will be but cold,
+	Since she respects my mistress' love so much.
+	Alas, how love can trifle with itself!
+	Here is her picture: let me see; I think,
+	If I had such a tire, this face of mine
+	Were full as lovely as is this of hers:
+	And yet the painter flatter'd her a little,
+	Unless I flatter with myself too much.
+	Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow:
+	If that be all the difference in his love,
+	I'll get me such a colour'd periwig.
+	Her eyes are grey as glass, and so are mine:
+	Ay, but her forehead's low, and mine's as high.
+	What should it be that he respects in her
+	But I can make respective in myself,
+	If this fond Love were not a blinded god?
+	Come, shadow, come and take this shadow up,
+	For 'tis thy rival. O thou senseless form,
+	Thou shalt be worshipp'd, kiss'd, loved and adored!
+	And, were there sense in his idolatry,
+	My substance should be statue in thy stead.
+	I'll use thee kindly for thy mistress' sake,
+	That used me so; or else, by Jove I vow,
+	I should have scratch'd out your unseeing eyes
+	To make my master out of love with thee!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Milan. An abbey.
+
+
+	[Enter EGLAMOUR]
+
+EGLAMOUR	The sun begins to gild the western sky;
+	And now it is about the very hour
+	That Silvia, at Friar Patrick's cell, should meet me.
+	She will not fail, for lovers break not hours,
+	Unless it be to come before their time;
+	So much they spur their expedition.
+	See where she comes.
+
+	[Enter SILVIA]
+
+		Lady, a happy evening!
+
+SILVIA	Amen, amen! Go on, good Eglamour,
+	Out at the postern by the abbey-wall:
+	I fear I am attended by some spies.
+
+EGLAMOUR	Fear not: the forest is not three leagues off;
+	If we recover that, we are sure enough.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. The DUKE's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter THURIO, PROTEUS, and JULIA]
+
+THURIO	Sir Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit?
+
+PROTEUS	O, sir, I find her milder than she was;
+	And yet she takes exceptions at your person.
+
+THURIO	What, that my leg is too long?
+
+PROTEUS	No; that it is too little.
+
+THURIO	I'll wear a boot, to make it somewhat rounder.
+
+JULIA	[Aside]  But love will not be spurr'd to what
+	it loathes.
+
+THURIO	What says she to my face?
+
+PROTEUS	She says it is a fair one.
+
+THURIO	Nay then, the wanton lies; my face is black.
+
+PROTEUS	But pearls are fair; and the old saying is,
+	Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes.
+
+JULIA	[Aside]  'Tis true; such pearls as put out
+	ladies' eyes;
+	For I had rather wink than look on them.
+
+THURIO	How likes she my discourse?
+
+PROTEUS	Ill, when you talk of war.
+
+THURIO	But well, when I discourse of love and peace?
+
+JULIA	[Aside]  But better, indeed, when you hold your peace.
+
+THURIO	What says she to my valour?
+
+PROTEUS	O, sir, she makes no doubt of that.
+
+JULIA	[Aside]  She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.
+
+THURIO	What says she to my birth?
+
+PROTEUS	That you are well derived.
+
+JULIA	[Aside]  True; from a gentleman to a fool.
+
+THURIO	Considers she my possessions?
+
+PROTEUS	O, ay; and pities them.
+
+THURIO	Wherefore?
+
+JULIA	[Aside]  That such an ass should owe them.
+
+PROTEUS	That they are out by lease.
+
+JULIA	Here comes the duke.
+
+	[Enter DUKE]
+
+DUKE	How now, Sir Proteus! how now, Thurio!
+	Which of you saw Sir Eglamour of late?
+
+THURIO	Not I.
+
+PROTEUS	     Nor I.
+
+DUKE	          Saw you my daughter?
+
+PROTEUS	Neither.
+
+DUKE	Why then,
+	She's fled unto that peasant Valentine;
+	And Eglamour is in her company.
+	'Tis true; for Friar Laurence met them both,
+	As he in penance wander'd through the forest;
+	Him he knew well, and guess'd that it was she,
+	But, being mask'd, he was not sure of it;
+	Besides, she did intend confession
+	At Patrick's cell this even; and there she was not;
+	These likelihoods confirm her flight from hence.
+	Therefore, I pray you, stand not to discourse,
+	But mount you presently and meet with me
+	Upon the rising of the mountain-foot
+	That leads towards Mantua, whither they are fled:
+	Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+THURIO	Why, this it is to be a peevish girl,
+	That flies her fortune when it follows her.
+	I'll after, more to be revenged on Eglamour
+	Than for the love of reckless Silvia.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PROTEUS	And I will follow, more for Silvia's love
+	Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+JULIA	And I will follow, more to cross that love
+	Than hate for Silvia that is gone for love.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The frontiers of Mantua. The forest.
+
+
+	[Enter Outlaws with SILVIA]
+
+First Outlaw	Come, come,
+	Be patient; we must bring you to our captain.
+
+SILVIA	A thousand more mischances than this one
+	Have learn'd me how to brook this patiently.
+
+Second Outlaw	Come, bring her away.
+
+First Outlaw	Where is the gentleman that was with her?
+
+Third Outlaw	Being nimble-footed, he hath outrun us,
+	But Moyses and Valerius follow him.
+	Go thou with her to the west end of the wood;
+	There is our captain: we'll follow him that's fled;
+	The thicket is beset; he cannot 'scape.
+
+First Outlaw	Come, I must bring you to our captain's cave:
+	Fear not; he bears an honourable mind,
+	And will not use a woman lawlessly.
+
+SILVIA	O Valentine, this I endure for thee!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Another part of the forest.
+
+
+	[Enter VALENTINE]
+
+VALENTINE	How use doth breed a habit in a man!
+	This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
+	I better brook than flourishing peopled towns:
+	Here can I sit alone, unseen of any,
+	And to the nightingale's complaining notes
+	Tune my distresses and record my woes.
+	O thou that dost inhabit in my breast,
+	Leave not the mansion so long tenantless,
+	Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall
+	And leave no memory of what it was!
+	Repair me with thy presence, Silvia;
+	Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain!
+	What halloing and what stir is this to-day?
+	These are my mates, that make their wills their law,
+	Have some unhappy passenger in chase.
+	They love me well; yet I have much to do
+	To keep them from uncivil outrages.
+	Withdraw thee, Valentine: who's this comes here?
+
+	[Enter PROTEUS, SILVIA, and JULIA]
+
+PROTEUS	Madam, this service I have done for you,
+	Though you respect not aught your servant doth,
+	To hazard life and rescue you from him
+	That would have forced your honour and your love;
+	Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look;
+	A smaller boon than this I cannot beg
+	And less than this, I am sure, you cannot give.
+
+VALENTINE	[Aside]  How like a dream is this I see and hear!
+	Love, lend me patience to forbear awhile.
+
+SILVIA	O miserable, unhappy that I am!
+
+PROTEUS	Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came;
+	But by my coming I have made you happy.
+
+SILVIA	By thy approach thou makest me most unhappy.
+
+JULIA	[Aside]  And me, when he approacheth to your presence.
+
+SILVIA	Had I been seized by a hungry lion,
+	I would have been a breakfast to the beast,
+	Rather than have false Proteus rescue me.
+	O, Heaven be judge how I love Valentine,
+	Whose life's as tender to me as my soul!
+	And full as much, for more there cannot be,
+	I do detest false perjured Proteus.
+	Therefore be gone; solicit me no more.
+
+PROTEUS	What dangerous action, stood it next to death,
+	Would I not undergo for one calm look!
+	O, 'tis the curse in love, and still approved,
+	When women cannot love where they're beloved!
+
+SILVIA	When Proteus cannot love where he's beloved.
+	Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love,
+	For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy faith
+	Into a thousand oaths; and all those oaths
+	Descended into perjury, to love me.
+	Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou'dst two;
+	And that's far worse than none; better have none
+	Than plural faith which is too much by one:
+	Thou counterfeit to thy true friend!
+
+PROTEUS	In love
+	Who respects friend?
+
+SILVIA	All men but Proteus.
+
+PROTEUS	Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words
+	Can no way change you to a milder form,
+	I'll woo you like a soldier, at arms' end,
+	And love you 'gainst the nature of love,--force ye.
+
+SILVIA	O heaven!
+
+PROTEUS	        I'll force thee yield to my desire.
+
+VALENTINE	Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch,
+	Thou friend of an ill fashion!
+
+PROTEUS	Valentine!
+
+VALENTINE	Thou common friend, that's without faith or love,
+	For such is a friend now; treacherous man!
+	Thou hast beguiled my hopes; nought but mine eye
+	Could have persuaded me: now I dare not say
+	I have one friend alive; thou wouldst disprove me.
+	Who should be trusted, when one's own right hand
+	Is perjured to the bosom? Proteus,
+	I am sorry I must never trust thee more,
+	But count the world a stranger for thy sake.
+	The private wound is deepest: O time most accurst,
+	'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst!
+
+PROTEUS	My shame and guilt confounds me.
+	Forgive me, Valentine: if hearty sorrow
+	Be a sufficient ransom for offence,
+	I tender 't here; I do as truly suffer
+	As e'er I did commit.
+
+VALENTINE	Then I am paid;
+	And once again I do receive thee honest.
+	Who by repentance is not satisfied
+	Is nor of heaven nor earth, for these are pleased.
+	By penitence the Eternal's wrath's appeased:
+	And, that my love may appear plain and free,
+	All that was mine in Silvia I give thee.
+
+JULIA	O me unhappy!
+
+	[Swoons]
+
+PROTEUS	Look to the boy.
+
+VALENTINE	Why, boy! why, wag! how now! what's the matter?
+	Look up; speak.
+
+JULIA	O good sir, my master charged me to deliver a ring
+	to Madam Silvia, which, out of my neglect, was never done.
+
+PROTEUS	Where is that ring, boy?
+
+JULIA	Here 'tis; this is it.
+
+PROTEUS	How! let me see:
+	Why, this is the ring I gave to Julia.
+
+JULIA	O, cry you mercy, sir, I have mistook:
+	This is the ring you sent to Silvia.
+
+PROTEUS	But how camest thou by this ring? At my depart
+	I gave this unto Julia.
+
+JULIA	And Julia herself did give it me;
+	And Julia herself hath brought it hither.
+
+PROTEUS	How! Julia!
+
+JULIA	Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths,
+	And entertain'd 'em deeply in her heart.
+	How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root!
+	O Proteus, let this habit make thee blush!
+	Be thou ashamed that I have took upon me
+	Such an immodest raiment, if shame live
+	In a disguise of love:
+	It is the lesser blot, modesty finds,
+	Women to change their shapes than men their minds.
+
+PROTEUS	Than men their minds! 'tis true.
+	O heaven! were man
+	But constant, he were perfect. That one error
+	Fills him with faults; makes him run through all the sins:
+	Inconstancy falls off ere it begins.
+	What is in Silvia's face, but I may spy
+	More fresh in Julia's with a constant eye?
+
+VALENTINE	Come, come, a hand from either:
+	Let me be blest to make this happy close;
+	'Twere pity two such friends should be long foes.
+
+PROTEUS	Bear witness, Heaven, I have my wish for ever.
+
+JULIA	And I mine.
+
+	[Enter Outlaws, with DUKE and THURIO]
+
+Outlaws	A prize, a prize, a prize!
+
+VALENTINE	Forbear, forbear, I say! it is my lord the duke.
+	Your grace is welcome to a man disgraced,
+	Banished Valentine.
+
+DUKE	Sir Valentine!
+
+THURIO	Yonder is Silvia; and Silvia's mine.
+
+VALENTINE	Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy death;
+	Come not within the measure of my wrath;
+	Do not name Silvia thine; if once again,
+	Verona shall not hold thee. Here she stands;
+	Take but possession of her with a touch:
+	I dare thee but to breathe upon my love.
+
+THURIO	Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I;
+	I hold him but a fool that will endanger
+	His body for a girl that loves him not:
+	I claim her not, and therefore she is thine.
+
+DUKE	The more degenerate and base art thou,
+	To make such means for her as thou hast done
+	And leave her on such slight conditions.
+	Now, by the honour of my ancestry,
+	I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine,
+	And think thee worthy of an empress' love:
+	Know then, I here forget all former griefs,
+	Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again,
+	Plead a new state in thy unrivall'd merit,
+	To which I thus subscribe: Sir Valentine,
+	Thou art a gentleman and well derived;
+	Take thou thy Silvia, for thou hast deserved her.
+
+VALENTINE	I thank your grace; the gift hath made me happy.
+	I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake,
+	To grant one boom that I shall ask of you.
+
+DUKE	I grant it, for thine own, whate'er it be.
+
+VALENTINE	These banish'd men that I have kept withal
+	Are men endued with worthy qualities:
+	Forgive them what they have committed here
+	And let them be recall'd from their exile:
+	They are reformed, civil, full of good
+	And fit for great employment, worthy lord.
+
+DUKE	Thou hast prevail'd; I pardon them and thee:
+	Dispose of them as thou know'st their deserts.
+	Come, let us go: we will include all jars
+	With triumphs, mirth and rare solemnity.
+
+VALENTINE	And, as we walk along, I dare be bold
+	With our discourse to make your grace to smile.
+	What think you of this page, my lord?
+
+DUKE	I think the boy hath grace in him; he blushes.
+
+VALENTINE	I warrant you, my lord, more grace than boy.
+
+DUKE	What mean you by that saying?
+
+VALENTINE	Please you, I'll tell you as we pass along,
+	That you will wonder what hath fortuned.
+	Come, Proteus; 'tis your penance but to hear
+	The story of your loves discovered:
+	That done, our day of marriage shall be yours;
+	One feast, one house, one mutual happiness.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+LEONTES	king of Sicilia.
+
+MAMILLIUS	young prince of Sicilia.
+
+
+CAMILLO	|
+	|
+ANTIGONUS	|
+	|  Four Lords of Sicilia.
+CLEOMENES	|
+	|
+DION	|
+
+
+POLIXENES	King of Bohemia.
+
+FLORIZEL	Prince of Bohemia.
+
+ARCHIDAMUS	a Lord of Bohemia.
+
+Old Shepherd	reputed father of Perdita. (Shepherd:)
+
+Clown	his son.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	a rogue.
+
+	A Mariner. (Mariner:)
+
+	A Gaoler.  (Gaoler:)
+
+HERMIONE	queen to Leontes.
+
+PERDITA	daughter to Leontes and Hermione.
+
+PAULINA	wife to Antigonus.
+
+EMILIA	a lady attending on Hermione,
+
+
+MOPSA	|
+	|  Shepherdesses.
+DORCAS	|
+
+
+	Other Lords and Gentlemen, Ladies, Officers,
+	and Servants, Shepherds, and Shepherdesses.
+	(First Lord:)
+	(Gentleman:)
+	(First Gentleman:)
+	(Second Gentleman:)
+	(Third Gentleman:)
+	(First Lady:)
+	(Second Lady:)
+	(Officer:)
+	(Servant:)
+	(First Servant:)
+	(Second Servant:)
+
+Time	as Chorus.
+
+
+SCENE	Sicilia, and Bohemia.
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Antechamber in LEONTES' palace.
+
+
+
+	[Enter CAMILLO and ARCHIDAMUS]
+
+ARCHIDAMUS	If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia, on
+	the like occasion whereon my services are now on
+	foot, you shall see, as I have said, great
+	difference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia.
+
+CAMILLO	I think, this coming summer, the King of Sicilia
+	means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.
+
+ARCHIDAMUS	Wherein our entertainment shall shame us we will be
+	justified in our loves; for indeed--
+
+CAMILLO	Beseech you,--
+
+ARCHIDAMUS	Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge:
+	we cannot with such magnificence--in so rare--I know
+	not what to say. We will give you sleepy drinks,
+	that your senses, unintelligent of our insufficience,
+	may, though they cannot praise us, as little accuse
+	us.
+
+CAMILLO	You pay a great deal too dear for what's given freely.
+
+ARCHIDAMUS	Believe me, I speak as my understanding instructs me
+	and as mine honesty puts it to utterance.
+
+CAMILLO	Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia.
+	They were trained together in their childhoods; and
+	there rooted betwixt them then such an affection,
+	which cannot choose but branch now. Since their
+	more mature dignities and royal necessities made
+	separation of their society, their encounters,
+	though not personal, have been royally attorneyed
+	with interchange of gifts, letters, loving
+	embassies; that they have seemed to be together,
+	though absent, shook hands, as over a vast, and
+	embraced, as it were, from the ends of opposed
+	winds. The heavens continue their loves!
+
+ARCHIDAMUS	I think there is not in the world either malice or
+	matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable
+	comfort of your young prince Mamillius: it is a
+	gentleman of the greatest promise that ever came
+	into my note.
+
+CAMILLO	I very well agree with you in the hopes of him: it
+	is a gallant child; one that indeed physics the
+	subject, makes old hearts fresh: they that went on
+	crutches ere he was born desire yet their life to
+	see him a man.
+
+ARCHIDAMUS	Would they else be content to die?
+
+CAMILLO	Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should
+	desire to live.
+
+ARCHIDAMUS	If the king had no son, they would desire to live
+	on crutches till he had one.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A room of state in the same.
+
+
+
+	[Enter LEONTES, HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS,
+	POLIXENES, CAMILLO, and Attendants]
+
+POLIXENES	Nine changes of the watery star hath been
+	The shepherd's note since we have left our throne
+	Without a burthen: time as long again
+	Would be find up, my brother, with our thanks;
+	And yet we should, for perpetuity,
+	Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher,
+	Yet standing in rich place, I multiply
+	With one 'We thank you' many thousands moe
+	That go before it.
+
+LEONTES	                  Stay your thanks a while;
+	And pay them when you part.
+
+POLIXENES	Sir, that's to-morrow.
+	I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance
+	Or breed upon our absence; that may blow
+	No sneaping winds at home, to make us say
+	'This is put forth too truly:' besides, I have stay'd
+	To tire your royalty.
+
+LEONTES	We are tougher, brother,
+	Than you can put us to't.
+
+POLIXENES	No longer stay.
+
+LEONTES	One seven-night longer.
+
+POLIXENES	Very sooth, to-morrow.
+
+LEONTES	We'll part the time between's then; and in that
+	I'll no gainsaying.
+
+POLIXENES	Press me not, beseech you, so.
+	There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the world,
+	So soon as yours could win me: so it should now,
+	Were there necessity in your request, although
+	'Twere needful I denied it. My affairs
+	Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder
+	Were in your love a whip to me; my stay
+	To you a charge and trouble: to save both,
+	Farewell, our brother.
+
+LEONTES	Tongue-tied, our queen?
+	speak you.
+
+HERMIONE	I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until
+	You have drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir,
+	Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure
+	All in Bohemia's well; this satisfaction
+	The by-gone day proclaim'd: say this to him,
+	He's beat from his best ward.
+
+LEONTES	Well said, Hermione.
+
+HERMIONE	To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong:
+	But let him say so then, and let him go;
+	But let him swear so, and he shall not stay,
+	We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.
+	Yet of your royal presence I'll adventure
+	The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
+	You take my lord, I'll give him my commission
+	To let him there a month behind the gest
+	Prefix'd for's parting: yet, good deed, Leontes,
+	I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind
+	What lady-she her lord. You'll stay?
+
+POLIXENES	No, madam.
+
+HERMIONE	Nay, but you will?
+
+POLIXENES	                  I may not, verily.
+
+HERMIONE	Verily!
+	You put me off with limber vows; but I,
+	Though you would seek to unsphere the
+	stars with oaths,
+	Should yet say 'Sir, no going.' Verily,
+	You shall not go: a lady's 'Verily' 's
+	As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet?
+	Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
+	Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees
+	When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you?
+	My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread 'Verily,'
+	One of them you shall be.
+
+POLIXENES	Your guest, then, madam:
+	To be your prisoner should import offending;
+	Which is for me less easy to commit
+	Than you to punish.
+
+HERMIONE	Not your gaoler, then,
+	But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you
+	Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys:
+	You were pretty lordings then?
+
+POLIXENES	We were, fair queen,
+	Two lads that thought there was no more behind
+	But such a day to-morrow as to-day,
+	And to be boy eternal.
+
+HERMIONE	Was not my lord
+	The verier wag o' the two?
+
+POLIXENES	We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun,
+	And bleat the one at the other: what we changed
+	Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
+	The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd
+	That any did. Had we pursued that life,
+	And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd
+	With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven
+	Boldly 'not guilty;' the imposition clear'd
+	Hereditary ours.
+
+HERMIONE	                  By this we gather
+	You have tripp'd since.
+
+POLIXENES	O my most sacred lady!
+	Temptations have since then been born to's; for
+	In those unfledged days was my wife a girl;
+	Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes
+	Of my young play-fellow.
+
+HERMIONE	Grace to boot!
+	Of this make no conclusion, lest you say
+	Your queen and I are devils: yet go on;
+	The offences we have made you do we'll answer,
+	If you first sinn'd with us and that with us
+	You did continue fault and that you slipp'd not
+	With any but with us.
+
+LEONTES	Is he won yet?
+
+HERMIONE	He'll stay my lord.
+
+LEONTES	At my request he would not.
+	Hermione, my dearest, thou never spokest
+	To better purpose.
+
+HERMIONE	                                 Never?
+
+LEONTES	Never, but once.
+
+HERMIONE	What! have I twice said well? when was't before?
+	I prithee tell me; cram's with praise, and make's
+	As fat as tame things: one good deed dying tongueless
+	Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
+	Our praises are our wages: you may ride's
+	With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere
+	With spur we beat an acre. But to the goal:
+	My last good deed was to entreat his stay:
+	What was my first? it has an elder sister,
+	Or I mistake you: O, would her name were Grace!
+	But once before I spoke to the purpose: when?
+	Nay, let me have't; I long.
+
+LEONTES	Why, that was when
+	Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death,
+	Ere I could make thee open thy white hand
+	And clap thyself my love: then didst thou utter
+	'I am yours for ever.'
+
+HERMIONE	'Tis grace indeed.
+	Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice:
+	The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;
+	The other for some while a friend.
+
+LEONTES	[Aside]	Too hot, too hot!
+	To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.
+	I have tremor cordis on me: my heart dances;
+	But not for joy; not joy. This entertainment
+	May a free face put on, derive a liberty
+	From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom,
+	And well become the agent; 't may, I grant;
+	But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers,
+	As now they are, and making practised smiles,
+	As in a looking-glass, and then to sigh, as 'twere
+	The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment
+	My bosom likes not, nor my brows! Mamillius,
+	Art thou my boy?
+
+MAMILLIUS	                           Ay, my good lord.
+
+LEONTES	I' fecks!
+	Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast
+	smutch'd thy nose?
+	They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain,
+	We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain:
+	And yet the steer, the heifer and the calf
+	Are all call'd neat.--Still virginalling
+	Upon his palm!--How now, you wanton calf!
+	Art thou my calf?
+
+MAMILLIUS	                  Yes, if you will, my lord.
+
+LEONTES	Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I have,
+	To be full like me: yet they say we are
+	Almost as like as eggs; women say so,
+	That will say anything but were they false
+	As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false
+	As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes
+	No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true
+	To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page,
+	Look on me with your welkin eye: sweet villain!
+	Most dear'st! my collop! Can thy dam?--may't be?--
+	Affection! thy intention stabs the centre:
+	Thou dost make possible things not so held,
+	Communicatest with dreams;--how can this be?--
+	With what's unreal thou coactive art,
+	And fellow'st nothing: then 'tis very credent
+	Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou dost,
+	And that beyond commission, and I find it,
+	And that to the infection of my brains
+	And hardening of my brows.
+
+POLIXENES	What means Sicilia?
+
+HERMIONE	He something seems unsettled.
+
+POLIXENES	How, my lord!
+	What cheer? how is't with you, best brother?
+
+HERMIONE	You look as if you held a brow of much distraction
+	Are you moved, my lord?
+
+LEONTES	No, in good earnest.
+	How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
+	Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
+	To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines
+	Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil
+	Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd,
+	In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled,
+	Lest it should bite its master, and so prove,
+	As ornaments oft do, too dangerous:
+	How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
+	This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend,
+	Will you take eggs for money?
+
+MAMILLIUS	No, my lord, I'll fight.
+
+LEONTES	You will! why, happy man be's dole! My brother,
+	Are you so fond of your young prince as we
+	Do seem to be of ours?
+
+POLIXENES	If at home, sir,
+	He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter,
+	Now my sworn friend and then mine enemy,
+	My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all:
+	He makes a July's day short as December,
+	And with his varying childness cures in me
+	Thoughts that would thick my blood.
+
+LEONTES	So stands this squire
+	Officed with me: we two will walk, my lord,
+	And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione,
+	How thou lovest us, show in our brother's welcome;
+	Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap:
+	Next to thyself and my young rover, he's
+	Apparent to my heart.
+
+HERMIONE	If you would seek us,
+	We are yours i' the garden: shall's attend you there?
+
+LEONTES	To your own bents dispose you: you'll be found,
+	Be you beneath the sky.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+		  I am angling now,
+	Though you perceive me not how I give line.
+	Go to, go to!
+	How she holds up the neb, the bill to him!
+	And arms her with the boldness of a wife
+	To her allowing husband!
+
+	[Exeunt POLIXENES, HERMIONE, and Attendants]
+
+		   Gone already!
+	Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and
+	ears a fork'd one!
+	Go, play, boy, play: thy mother plays, and I
+	Play too, but so disgraced a part, whose issue
+	Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour
+	Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play.
+	There have been,
+	Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now;
+	And many a man there is, even at this present,
+	Now while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm,
+	That little thinks she has been sluiced in's absence
+	And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by
+	Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't
+	Whiles other men have gates and those gates open'd,
+	As mine, against their will. Should all despair
+	That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
+	Would hang themselves. Physic for't there is none;
+	It is a bawdy planet, that will strike
+	Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it,
+	From east, west, north and south: be it concluded,
+	No barricado for a belly; know't;
+	It will let in and out the enemy
+	With bag and baggage: many thousand on's
+	Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy!
+
+MAMILLIUS	I am like you, they say.
+
+LEONTES	Why that's some comfort. What, Camillo there?
+
+CAMILLO	Ay, my good lord.
+
+LEONTES	Go play, Mamillius; thou'rt an honest man.
+
+	[Exit MAMILLIUS]
+
+	Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.
+
+CAMILLO	You had much ado to make his anchor hold:
+	When you cast out, it still came home.
+
+LEONTES	Didst note it?
+
+CAMILLO	He would not stay at your petitions: made
+	His business more material.
+
+LEONTES	Didst perceive it?
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	They're here with me already, whispering, rounding
+	'Sicilia is a so-forth:' 'tis far gone,
+	When I shall gust it last. How came't, Camillo,
+	That he did stay?
+
+CAMILLO	                  At the good queen's entreaty.
+
+LEONTES	At the queen's be't: 'good' should be pertinent
+	But, so it is, it is not. Was this taken
+	By any understanding pate but thine?
+	For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in
+	More than the common blocks: not noted, is't,
+	But of the finer natures? by some severals
+	Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes
+	Perchance are to this business purblind? say.
+
+CAMILLO	Business, my lord! I think most understand
+	Bohemia stays here longer.
+
+LEONTES	Ha!
+
+CAMILLO	Stays here longer.
+
+LEONTES	Ay, but why?
+
+CAMILLO	To satisfy your highness and the entreaties
+	Of our most gracious mistress.
+
+LEONTES	Satisfy!
+	The entreaties of your mistress! satisfy!
+	Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,
+	With all the nearest things to my heart, as well
+	My chamber-councils, wherein, priest-like, thou
+	Hast cleansed my bosom, I from thee departed
+	Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been
+	Deceived in thy integrity, deceived
+	In that which seems so.
+
+CAMILLO	Be it forbid, my lord!
+
+LEONTES	To bide upon't, thou art not honest, or,
+	If thou inclinest that way, thou art a coward,
+	Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining
+	From course required; or else thou must be counted
+	A servant grafted in my serious trust
+	And therein negligent; or else a fool
+	That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn,
+	And takest it all for jest.
+
+CAMILLO	My gracious lord,
+	I may be negligent, foolish and fearful;
+	In every one of these no man is free,
+	But that his negligence, his folly, fear,
+	Among the infinite doings of the world,
+	Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord,
+	If ever I were wilful-negligent,
+	It was my folly; if industriously
+	I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
+	Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful
+	To do a thing, where I the issue doubted,
+	Where of the execution did cry out
+	Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
+	Which oft infects the wisest: these, my lord,
+	Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty
+	Is never free of. But, beseech your grace,
+	Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass
+	By its own visage: if I then deny it,
+	'Tis none of mine.
+
+LEONTES	                  Ha' not you seen, Camillo,--
+	But that's past doubt, you have, or your eye-glass
+	Is thicker than a cuckold's horn,--or heard,--
+	For to a vision so apparent rumour
+	Cannot be mute,--or thought,--for cogitation
+	Resides not in that man that does not think,--
+	My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess,
+	Or else be impudently negative,
+	To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say
+	My wife's a hobby-horse, deserves a name
+	As rank as any flax-wench that puts to
+	Before her troth-plight: say't and justify't.
+
+CAMILLO	I would not be a stander-by to hear
+	My sovereign mistress clouded so, without
+	My present vengeance taken: 'shrew my heart,
+	You never spoke what did become you less
+	Than this; which to reiterate were sin
+	As deep as that, though true.
+
+LEONTES	Is whispering nothing?
+	Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses?
+	Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career
+	Of laughing with a sigh?--a note infallible
+	Of breaking honesty--horsing foot on foot?
+	Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift?
+	Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes
+	Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only,
+	That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing?
+	Why, then the world and all that's in't is nothing;
+	The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing;
+	My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings,
+	If this be nothing.
+
+CAMILLO	Good my lord, be cured
+	Of this diseased opinion, and betimes;
+	For 'tis most dangerous.
+
+LEONTES	Say it be, 'tis true.
+
+CAMILLO	No, no, my lord.
+
+LEONTES	                  It is; you lie, you lie:
+	I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee,
+	Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave,
+	Or else a hovering temporizer, that
+	Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
+	Inclining to them both: were my wife's liver
+	Infected as her life, she would not live
+	The running of one glass.
+
+CAMILLO	Who does infect her?
+
+LEONTES	Why, he that wears her like a medal, hanging
+	About his neck, Bohemia: who, if I
+	Had servants true about me, that bare eyes
+	To see alike mine honour as their profits,
+	Their own particular thrifts, they would do that
+	Which should undo more doing: ay, and thou,
+	His cupbearer,--whom I from meaner form
+	Have benched and reared to worship, who mayst see
+	Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven,
+	How I am galled,--mightst bespice a cup,
+	To give mine enemy a lasting wink;
+	Which draught to me were cordial.
+
+CAMILLO	Sir, my lord,
+	I could do this, and that with no rash potion,
+	But with a lingering dram that should not work
+	Maliciously like poison: but I cannot
+	Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
+	So sovereignly being honourable.
+	I have loved thee,--
+
+LEONTES	Make that thy question, and go rot!
+	Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled,
+	To appoint myself in this vexation, sully
+	The purity and whiteness of my sheets,
+	Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted
+	Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps,
+	Give scandal to the blood o' the prince my son,
+	Who I do think is mine and love as mine,
+	Without ripe moving to't? Would I do this?
+	Could man so blench?
+
+CAMILLO	I must believe you, sir:
+	I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't;
+	Provided that, when he's removed, your highness
+	Will take again your queen as yours at first,
+	Even for your son's sake; and thereby for sealing
+	The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms
+	Known and allied to yours.
+
+LEONTES	Thou dost advise me
+	Even so as I mine own course have set down:
+	I'll give no blemish to her honour, none.
+
+CAMILLO	My lord,
+	Go then; and with a countenance as clear
+	As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia
+	And with your queen. I am his cupbearer:
+	If from me he have wholesome beverage,
+	Account me not your servant.
+
+LEONTES	This is all:
+	Do't and thou hast the one half of my heart;
+	Do't not, thou split'st thine own.
+
+CAMILLO	I'll do't, my lord.
+
+LEONTES	I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CAMILLO	O miserable lady! But, for me,
+	What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner
+	Of good Polixenes; and my ground to do't
+	Is the obedience to a master, one
+	Who in rebellion with himself will have
+	All that are his so too. To do this deed,
+	Promotion follows. If I could find example
+	Of thousands that had struck anointed kings
+	And flourish'd after, I'ld not do't; but since
+	Nor brass nor stone nor parchment bears not one,
+	Let villany itself forswear't. I must
+	Forsake the court: to do't, or no, is certain
+	To me a break-neck. Happy star, reign now!
+	Here comes Bohemia.
+
+	[Re-enter POLIXENES]
+
+POLIXENES	This is strange: methinks
+	My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?
+	Good day, Camillo.
+
+CAMILLO	                  Hail, most royal sir!
+
+POLIXENES	What is the news i' the court?
+
+CAMILLO	None rare, my lord.
+
+POLIXENES	The king hath on him such a countenance
+	As he had lost some province and a region
+	Loved as he loves himself: even now I met him
+	With customary compliment; when he,
+	Wafting his eyes to the contrary and falling
+	A lip of much contempt, speeds from me and
+	So leaves me to consider what is breeding
+	That changeth thus his manners.
+
+CAMILLO	I dare not know, my lord.
+
+POLIXENES	How! dare not! do not. Do you know, and dare not?
+	Be intelligent to me: 'tis thereabouts;
+	For, to yourself, what you do know, you must.
+	And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo,
+	Your changed complexions are to me a mirror
+	Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be
+	A party in this alteration, finding
+	Myself thus alter'd with 't.
+
+CAMILLO	There is a sickness
+	Which puts some of us in distemper, but
+	I cannot name the disease; and it is caught
+	Of you that yet are well.
+
+POLIXENES	How! caught of me!
+	Make me not sighted like the basilisk:
+	I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the better
+	By my regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo,--
+	As you are certainly a gentleman, thereto
+	Clerk-like experienced, which no less adorns
+	Our gentry than our parents' noble names,
+	In whose success we are gentle,--I beseech you,
+	If you know aught which does behove my knowledge
+	Thereof to be inform'd, imprison't not
+	In ignorant concealment.
+
+CAMILLO	I may not answer.
+
+POLIXENES	A sickness caught of me, and yet I well!
+	I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, Camillo,
+	I conjure thee, by all the parts of man
+	Which honour does acknowledge, whereof the least
+	Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare
+	What incidency thou dost guess of harm
+	Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near;
+	Which way to be prevented, if to be;
+	If not, how best to bear it.
+
+CAMILLO	Sir, I will tell you;
+	Since I am charged in honour and by him
+	That I think honourable: therefore mark my counsel,
+	Which must be even as swiftly follow'd as
+	I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me
+	Cry lost, and so good night!
+
+POLIXENES	On, good Camillo.
+
+CAMILLO	I am appointed him to murder you.
+
+POLIXENES	By whom, Camillo?
+
+CAMILLO	                        By the king.
+
+POLIXENES	For what?
+
+CAMILLO	He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears,
+	As he had seen't or been an instrument
+	To vice you to't, that you have touch'd his queen
+	Forbiddenly.
+
+POLIXENES	                  O, then my best blood turn
+	To an infected jelly and my name
+	Be yoked with his that did betray the Best!
+	Turn then my freshest reputation to
+	A savour that may strike the dullest nostril
+	Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn'd,
+	Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection
+	That e'er was heard or read!
+
+CAMILLO	Swear his thought over
+	By each particular star in heaven and
+	By all their influences, you may as well
+	Forbid the sea for to obey the moon
+	As or by oath remove or counsel shake
+	The fabric of his folly, whose foundation
+	Is piled upon his faith and will continue
+	The standing of his body.
+
+POLIXENES	How should this grow?
+
+CAMILLO	I know not: but I am sure 'tis safer to
+	Avoid what's grown than question how 'tis born.
+	If therefore you dare trust my honesty,
+	That lies enclosed in this trunk which you
+	Shall bear along impawn'd, away to-night!
+	Your followers I will whisper to the business,
+	And will by twos and threes at several posterns
+	Clear them o' the city. For myself, I'll put
+	My fortunes to your service, which are here
+	By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain;
+	For, by the honour of my parents, I
+	Have utter'd truth: which if you seek to prove,
+	I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer
+	Than one condemn'd by the king's own mouth, thereon
+	His execution sworn.
+
+POLIXENES	I do believe thee:
+	I saw his heart in 's face. Give me thy hand:
+	Be pilot to me and thy places shall
+	Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready and
+	My people did expect my hence departure
+	Two days ago. This jealousy
+	Is for a precious creature: as she's rare,
+	Must it be great, and as his person's mighty,
+	Must it be violent, and as he does conceive
+	He is dishonour'd by a man which ever
+	Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must
+	In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me:
+	Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
+	The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing
+	Of his ill-ta'en suspicion! Come, Camillo;
+	I will respect thee as a father if
+	Thou bear'st my life off hence: let us avoid.
+
+CAMILLO	It is in mine authority to command
+	The keys of all the posterns: please your highness
+	To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A room in LEONTES' palace.
+
+
+	[Enter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, and Ladies]
+
+HERMIONE	Take the boy to you: he so troubles me,
+	'Tis past enduring.
+
+First Lady	Come, my gracious lord,
+	Shall I be your playfellow?
+
+MAMILLIUS	No, I'll none of you.
+
+First Lady	Why, my sweet lord?
+
+MAMILLIUS	You'll kiss me hard and speak to me as if
+	I were a baby still. I love you better.
+
+Second Lady	And why so, my lord?
+
+MAMILLIUS	Not for because
+	Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say,
+	Become some women best, so that there be not
+	Too much hair there, but in a semicircle
+	Or a half-moon made with a pen.
+
+Second Lady	Who taught you this?
+
+MAMILLIUS	I learnt it out of women's faces. Pray now
+	What colour are your eyebrows?
+
+First Lady	Blue, my lord.
+
+MAMILLIUS	Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a lady's nose
+	That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.
+
+First Lady	Hark ye;
+	The queen your mother rounds apace: we shall
+	Present our services to a fine new prince
+	One of these days; and then you'ld wanton with us,
+	If we would have you.
+
+Second Lady	She is spread of late
+	Into a goodly bulk: good time encounter her!
+
+HERMIONE	What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir, now
+	I am for you again: pray you, sit by us,
+	And tell 's a tale.
+
+MAMILLIUS	Merry or sad shall't be?
+
+HERMIONE	As merry as you will.
+
+MAMILLIUS	A sad tale's best for winter: I have one
+	Of sprites and goblins.
+
+HERMIONE	Let's have that, good sir.
+	Come on, sit down: come on, and do your best
+	To fright me with your sprites; you're powerful at it.
+
+MAMILLIUS	There was a man--
+
+HERMIONE	                  Nay, come, sit down; then on.
+
+MAMILLIUS	Dwelt by a churchyard: I will tell it softly;
+	Yond crickets shall not hear it.
+
+HERMIONE	Come on, then,
+	And give't me in mine ear.
+
+	[Enter LEONTES, with ANTIGONUS, Lords and others]
+
+LEONTES	Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?
+
+First Lord	Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never
+	Saw I men scour so on their way: I eyed them
+	Even to their ships.
+
+LEONTES	How blest am I
+	In my just censure, in my true opinion!
+	Alack, for lesser knowledge! how accursed
+	In being so blest! There may be in the cup
+	A spider steep'd, and one may drink, depart,
+	And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge
+	Is not infected: but if one present
+	The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known
+	How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,
+	With violent hefts. I have drunk,
+	and seen the spider.
+	Camillo was his help in this, his pander:
+	There is a plot against my life, my crown;
+	All's true that is mistrusted: that false villain
+	Whom I employ'd was pre-employ'd by him:
+	He has discover'd my design, and I
+	Remain a pinch'd thing; yea, a very trick
+	For them to play at will. How came the posterns
+	So easily open?
+
+First Lord	                  By his great authority;
+	Which often hath no less prevail'd than so
+	On your command.
+
+LEONTES	                          I know't too well.
+	Give me the boy: I am glad you did not nurse him:
+	Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you
+	Have too much blood in him.
+
+HERMIONE	What is this? sport?
+
+LEONTES	Bear the boy hence; he shall not come about her;
+	Away with him! and let her sport herself
+	With that she's big with; for 'tis Polixenes
+	Has made thee swell thus.
+
+HERMIONE	But I'ld say he had not,
+	And I'll be sworn you would believe my saying,
+	Howe'er you lean to the nayward.
+
+LEONTES	You, my lords,
+	Look on her, mark her well; be but about
+	To say 'she is a goodly lady,' and
+	The justice of your bearts will thereto add
+	'Tis pity she's not honest, honourable:'
+	Praise her but for this her without-door form,
+	Which on my faith deserves high speech, and straight
+	The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands
+	That calumny doth use--O, I am out--
+	That mercy does, for calumny will sear
+	Virtue itself: these shrugs, these hums and ha's,
+	When you have said 'she's goodly,' come between
+	Ere you can say 'she's honest:' but be 't known,
+	From him that has most cause to grieve it should be,
+	She's an adulteress.
+
+HERMIONE	Should a villain say so,
+	The most replenish'd villain in the world,
+	He were as much more villain: you, my lord,
+	Do but mistake.
+
+LEONTES	                  You have mistook, my lady,
+	Polixenes for Leontes: O thou thing!
+	Which I'll not call a creature of thy place,
+	Lest barbarism, making me the precedent,
+	Should a like language use to all degrees
+	And mannerly distinguishment leave out
+	Betwixt the prince and beggar: I have said
+	She's an adulteress; I have said with whom:
+	More, she's a traitor and Camillo is
+	A federary with her, and one that knows
+	What she should shame to know herself
+	But with her most vile principal, that she's
+	A bed-swerver, even as bad as those
+	That vulgars give bold'st titles, ay, and privy
+	To this their late escape.
+
+HERMIONE	No, by my life.
+	Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you,
+	When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that
+	You thus have publish'd me! Gentle my lord,
+	You scarce can right me throughly then to say
+	You did mistake.
+
+LEONTES	                  No; if I mistake
+	In those foundations which I build upon,
+	The centre is not big enough to bear
+	A school-boy's top. Away with her! to prison!
+	He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty
+	But that he speaks.
+
+HERMIONE	There's some ill planet reigns:
+	I must be patient till the heavens look
+	With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords,
+	I am not prone to weeping, as our sex
+	Commonly are; the want of which vain dew
+	Perchance shall dry your pities: but I have
+	That honourable grief lodged here which burns
+	Worse than tears drown: beseech you all, my lords,
+	With thoughts so qualified as your charities
+	Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so
+	The king's will be perform'd!
+
+LEONTES	Shall I be heard?
+
+HERMIONE	Who is't that goes with me? Beseech your highness,
+	My women may be with me; for you see
+	My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools;
+	There is no cause: when you shall know your mistress
+	Has deserved prison, then abound in tears
+	As I come out: this action I now go on
+	Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord:
+	I never wish'd to see you sorry; now
+	I trust I shall. My women, come; you have leave.
+
+LEONTES	Go, do our bidding; hence!
+
+	[Exit HERMIONE, guarded; with Ladies]
+
+First Lord	Beseech your highness, call the queen again.
+
+ANTIGONUS	Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice
+	Prove violence; in the which three great ones suffer,
+	Yourself, your queen, your son.
+
+First Lord	For her, my lord,
+	I dare my life lay down and will do't, sir,
+	Please you to accept it, that the queen is spotless
+	I' the eyes of heaven and to you; I mean,
+	In this which you accuse her.
+
+ANTIGONUS	If it prove
+	She's otherwise, I'll keep my stables where
+	I lodge my wife; I'll go in couples with her;
+	Than when I feel and see her no farther trust her;
+	For every inch of woman in the world,
+	Ay, every dram of woman's flesh is false, If she be.
+
+LEONTES	         Hold your peaces.
+
+First Lord	Good my lord,--
+
+ANTIGONUS	It is for you we speak, not for ourselves:
+	You are abused and by some putter-on
+	That will be damn'd for't; would I knew the villain,
+	I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw'd,
+	I have three daughters; the eldest is eleven
+	The second and the third, nine, and some five;
+	If this prove true, they'll pay for't:
+	by mine honour,
+	I'll geld 'em all; fourteen they shall not see,
+	To bring false generations: they are co-heirs;
+	And I had rather glib myself than they
+	Should not produce fair issue.
+
+LEONTES	Cease; no more.
+	You smell this business with a sense as cold
+	As is a dead man's nose: but I do see't and feel't
+	As you feel doing thus; and see withal
+	The instruments that feel.
+
+ANTIGONUS	If it be so,
+	We need no grave to bury honesty:
+	There's not a grain of it the face to sweeten
+	Of the whole dungy earth.
+
+LEONTES	What! lack I credit?
+
+First Lord	I had rather you did lack than I, my lord,
+	Upon this ground; and more it would content me
+	To have her honour true than your suspicion,
+	Be blamed for't how you might.
+
+LEONTES	Why, what need we
+	Commune with you of this, but rather follow
+	Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative
+	Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness
+	Imparts this; which if you, or stupefied
+	Or seeming so in skill, cannot or will not
+	Relish a truth like us, inform yourselves
+	We need no more of your advice: the matter,
+	The loss, the gain, the ordering on't, is all
+	Properly ours.
+
+ANTIGONUS	                  And I wish, my liege,
+	You had only in your silent judgment tried it,
+	Without more overture.
+
+LEONTES	How could that be?
+	Either thou art most ignorant by age,
+	Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo's flight,
+	Added to their familiarity,
+	Which was as gross as ever touch'd conjecture,
+	That lack'd sight only, nought for approbation
+	But only seeing, all other circumstances
+	Made up to the deed, doth push on this proceeding:
+	Yet, for a greater confirmation,
+	For in an act of this importance 'twere
+	Most piteous to be wild, I have dispatch'd in post
+	To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple,
+	Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know
+	Of stuff'd sufficiency: now from the oracle
+	They will bring all; whose spiritual counsel had,
+	Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well?
+
+First Lord	Well done, my lord.
+
+LEONTES	Though I am satisfied and need no more
+	Than what I know, yet shall the oracle
+	Give rest to the minds of others, such as he
+	Whose ignorant credulity will not
+	Come up to the truth. So have we thought it good
+	From our free person she should be confined,
+	Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence
+	Be left her to perform. Come, follow us;
+	We are to speak in public; for this business
+	Will raise us all.
+
+ANTIGONUS	[Aside]
+
+	To laughter, as I take it,
+	If the good truth were known.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A prison.
+
+
+	[Enter PAULINA, a Gentleman, and Attendants]
+
+PAULINA	The keeper of the prison, call to him;
+	let him have knowledge who I am.
+
+	[Exit Gentleman]
+
+		               Good lady,
+	No court in Europe is too good for thee;
+	What dost thou then in prison?
+
+	[Re-enter Gentleman, with the Gaoler]
+
+		         Now, good sir,
+	You know me, do you not?
+
+Gaoler	For a worthy lady
+	And one whom much I honour.
+
+PAULINA	Pray you then,
+	Conduct me to the queen.
+
+Gaoler	I may not, madam:
+	To the contrary I have express commandment.
+
+PAULINA	Here's ado,
+	To lock up honesty and honour from
+	The access of gentle visitors!
+	Is't lawful, pray you,
+	To see her women? any of them? Emilia?
+
+Gaoler	So please you, madam,
+	To put apart these your attendants, I
+	Shall bring Emilia forth.
+
+PAULINA	I pray now, call her.
+	Withdraw yourselves.
+
+	[Exeunt Gentleman and Attendants]
+
+Gaoler	And, madam,
+	I must be present at your conference.
+
+PAULINA	Well, be't so, prithee.
+
+	[Exit Gaoler]
+
+	Here's such ado to make no stain a stain
+	As passes colouring.
+
+	[Re-enter Gaoler, with EMILIA]
+
+	Dear gentlewoman,
+	How fares our gracious lady?
+
+EMILIA	As well as one so great and so forlorn
+	May hold together: on her frights and griefs,
+	Which never tender lady hath born greater,
+	She is something before her time deliver'd.
+
+PAULINA	A boy?
+
+EMILIA	     A daughter, and a goodly babe,
+	Lusty and like to live: the queen receives
+	Much comfort in't; says 'My poor prisoner,
+	I am innocent as you.'
+
+PAULINA	I dare be sworn
+	These dangerous unsafe lunes i' the king,
+	beshrew them!
+	He must be told on't, and he shall: the office
+	Becomes a woman best; I'll take't upon me:
+	If I prove honey-mouth'd let my tongue blister
+	And never to my red-look'd anger be
+	The trumpet any more. Pray you, Emilia,
+	Commend my best obedience to the queen:
+	If she dares trust me with her little babe,
+	I'll show't the king and undertake to be
+	Her advocate to the loud'st. We do not know
+	How he may soften at the sight o' the child:
+	The silence often of pure innocence
+	Persuades when speaking fails.
+
+EMILIA	Most worthy madam,
+	Your honour and your goodness is so evident
+	That your free undertaking cannot miss
+	A thriving issue: there is no lady living
+	So meet for this great errand. Please your ladyship
+	To visit the next room, I'll presently
+	Acquaint the queen of your most noble offer;
+	Who but to-day hammer'd of this design,
+	But durst not tempt a minister of honour,
+	Lest she should be denied.
+
+PAULINA	Tell her, Emilia.
+	I'll use that tongue I have: if wit flow from't
+	As boldness from my bosom, let 't not be doubted
+	I shall do good.
+
+EMILIA	                  Now be you blest for it!
+	I'll to the queen: please you,
+	come something nearer.
+
+Gaoler	Madam, if't please the queen to send the babe,
+	I know not what I shall incur to pass it,
+	Having no warrant.
+
+PAULINA	                  You need not fear it, sir:
+	This child was prisoner to the womb and is
+	By law and process of great nature thence
+	Freed and enfranchised, not a party to
+	The anger of the king nor guilty of,
+	If any be, the trespass of the queen.
+
+Gaoler	I do believe it.
+
+PAULINA	                  Do not you fear: upon mine honour,
+	I will stand betwixt you and danger.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in LEONTES' palace.
+
+
+	[Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, Lords, and Servants]
+
+LEONTES	Nor night nor day no rest: it is but weakness
+	To bear the matter thus; mere weakness. If
+	The cause were not in being,--part o' the cause,
+	She the adulteress; for the harlot king
+	Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank
+	And level of my brain, plot-proof; but she
+	I can hook to me: say that she were gone,
+	Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest
+	Might come to me again. Who's there?
+
+First Servant	My lord?
+
+LEONTES	How does the boy?
+
+First Servant	                  He took good rest to-night;
+	'Tis hoped his sickness is discharged.
+
+LEONTES	To see his nobleness!
+	Conceiving the dishonour of his mother,
+	He straight declined, droop'd, took it deeply,
+	Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on't in himself,
+	Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
+	And downright languish'd. Leave me solely: go,
+	See how he fares.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+	Fie, fie! no thought of him:
+	The thought of my revenges that way
+	Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty,
+	And in his parties, his alliance; let him be
+	Until a time may serve: for present vengeance,
+	Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes
+	Laugh at me, make their pastime at my sorrow:
+	They should not laugh if I could reach them, nor
+	Shall she within my power.
+
+	[Enter PAULINA, with a child]
+
+First Lord	You must not enter.
+
+PAULINA	Nay, rather, good my lords, be second to me:
+	Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas,
+	Than the queen's life? a gracious innocent soul,
+	More free than he is jealous.
+
+ANTIGONUS	That's enough.
+
+Second Servant	Madam, he hath not slept tonight; commanded
+	None should come at him.
+
+PAULINA	Not so hot, good sir:
+	I come to bring him sleep. 'Tis such as you,
+	That creep like shadows by him and do sigh
+	At each his needless heavings, such as you
+	Nourish the cause of his awaking: I
+	Do come with words as medicinal as true,
+	Honest as either, to purge him of that humour
+	That presses him from sleep.
+
+LEONTES	What noise there, ho?
+
+PAULINA	No noise, my lord; but needful conference
+	About some gossips for your highness.
+
+LEONTES	How!
+	Away with that audacious lady! Antigonus,
+	I charged thee that she should not come about me:
+	I knew she would.
+
+ANTIGONUS	                  I told her so, my lord,
+	On your displeasure's peril and on mine,
+	She should not visit you.
+
+LEONTES	What, canst not rule her?
+
+PAULINA	From all dishonesty he can: in this,
+	Unless he take the course that you have done,
+	Commit me for committing honour, trust it,
+	He shall not rule me.
+
+ANTIGONUS	La you now, you hear:
+	When she will take the rein I let her run;
+	But she'll not stumble.
+
+PAULINA	Good my liege, I come;
+	And, I beseech you, hear me, who profess
+	Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
+	Your most obedient counsellor, yet that dare
+	Less appear so in comforting your evils,
+	Than such as most seem yours: I say, I come
+	From your good queen.
+
+LEONTES	Good queen!
+
+PAULINA	Good queen, my lord,
+	Good queen; I say good queen;
+	And would by combat make her good, so were I
+	A man, the worst about you.
+
+LEONTES	Force her hence.
+
+PAULINA	Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes
+	First hand me: on mine own accord I'll off;
+	But first I'll do my errand. The good queen,
+	For she is good, hath brought you forth a daughter;
+	Here 'tis; commends it to your blessing.
+
+	[Laying down the child]
+
+LEONTES	Out!
+	A mankind witch! Hence with her, out o' door:
+	A most intelligencing bawd!
+
+PAULINA	Not so:
+	I am as ignorant in that as you
+	In so entitling me, and no less honest
+	Than you are mad; which is enough, I'll warrant,
+	As this world goes, to pass for honest.
+
+LEONTES	Traitors!
+	Will you not push her out? Give her the bastard.
+	Thou dotard! thou art woman-tired, unroosted
+	By thy dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard;
+	Take't up, I say; give't to thy crone.
+
+PAULINA	For ever
+	Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou
+	Takest up the princess by that forced baseness
+	Which he has put upon't!
+
+LEONTES	He dreads his wife.
+
+PAULINA	So I would you did; then 'twere past all doubt
+	You'ld call your children yours.
+
+LEONTES	A nest of traitors!
+
+ANTIGONUS	I am none, by this good light.
+
+PAULINA	Nor I, nor any
+	But one that's here, and that's himself, for he
+	The sacred honour of himself, his queen's,
+	His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander,
+	Whose sting is sharper than the sword's;
+	and will not--
+	For, as the case now stands, it is a curse
+	He cannot be compell'd to't--once remove
+	The root of his opinion, which is rotten
+	As ever oak or stone was sound.
+
+LEONTES	A callat
+	Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her husband
+	And now baits me! This brat is none of mine;
+	It is the issue of Polixenes:
+	Hence with it, and together with the dam
+	Commit them to the fire!
+
+PAULINA	It is yours;
+	And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge,
+	So like you, 'tis the worse. Behold, my lords,
+	Although the print be little, the whole matter
+	And copy of the father, eye, nose, lip,
+	The trick of's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley,
+	The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek,
+	His smiles,
+	The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger:
+	And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast made it
+	So like to him that got it, if thou hast
+	The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours
+	No yellow in't, lest she suspect, as he does,
+	Her children not her husband's!
+
+LEONTES	A gross hag
+	And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd,
+	That wilt not stay her tongue.
+
+ANTIGONUS	Hang all the husbands
+	That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself
+	Hardly one subject.
+
+LEONTES	Once more, take her hence.
+
+PAULINA	A most unworthy and unnatural lord
+	Can do no more.
+
+LEONTES	                  I'll ha' thee burnt.
+
+PAULINA	I care not:
+	It is an heretic that makes the fire,
+	Not she which burns in't. I'll not call you tyrant;
+	But this most cruel usage of your queen,
+	Not able to produce more accusation
+	Than your own weak-hinged fancy, something savours
+	Of tyranny and will ignoble make you,
+	Yea, scandalous to the world.
+
+LEONTES	On your allegiance,
+	Out of the chamber with her! Were I a tyrant,
+	Where were her life? she durst not call me so,
+	If she did know me one. Away with her!
+
+PAULINA	I pray you, do not push me; I'll be gone.
+	Look to your babe, my lord; 'tis yours:
+	Jove send her
+	A better guiding spirit! What needs these hands?
+	You, that are thus so tender o'er his follies,
+	Will never do him good, not one of you.
+	So, so: farewell; we are gone.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LEONTES	Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this.
+	My child? away with't! Even thou, that hast
+	A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence
+	And see it instantly consumed with fire;
+	Even thou and none but thou. Take it up straight:
+	Within this hour bring me word 'tis done,
+	And by good testimony, or I'll seize thy life,
+	With what thou else call'st thine. If thou refuse
+	And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so;
+	The bastard brains with these my proper hands
+	Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire;
+	For thou set'st on thy wife.
+
+ANTIGONUS	I did not, sir:
+	These lords, my noble fellows, if they please,
+	Can clear me in't.
+
+Lords	                  We can: my royal liege,
+	He is not guilty of her coming hither.
+
+LEONTES	You're liars all.
+
+First Lord	Beseech your highness, give us better credit:
+	We have always truly served you, and beseech you
+	So to esteem of us, and on our knees we beg,
+	As recompense of our dear services
+	Past and to come, that you do change this purpose,
+	Which being so horrible, so bloody, must
+	Lead on to some foul issue: we all kneel.
+
+LEONTES	I am a feather for each wind that blows:
+	Shall I live on to see this bastard kneel
+	And call me father? better burn it now
+	Than curse it then. But be it; let it live.
+	It shall not neither. You, sir, come you hither;
+	You that have been so tenderly officious
+	With Lady Margery, your midwife there,
+	To save this bastard's life,--for 'tis a bastard,
+	So sure as this beard's grey,
+	--what will you adventure
+	To save this brat's life?
+
+ANTIGONUS	Any thing, my lord,
+	That my ability may undergo
+	And nobleness impose: at least thus much:
+	I'll pawn the little blood which I have left
+	To save the innocent: any thing possible.
+
+LEONTES	It shall be possible. Swear by this sword
+	Thou wilt perform my bidding.
+
+ANTIGONUS	I will, my lord.
+
+LEONTES	Mark and perform it, see'st thou! for the fail
+	Of any point in't shall not only be
+	Death to thyself but to thy lewd-tongued wife,
+	Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin thee,
+	As thou art liege-man to us, that thou carry
+	This female bastard hence and that thou bear it
+	To some remote and desert place quite out
+	Of our dominions, and that there thou leave it,
+	Without more mercy, to its own protection
+	And favour of the climate. As by strange fortune
+	It came to us, I do in justice charge thee,
+	On thy soul's peril and thy body's torture,
+	That thou commend it strangely to some place
+	Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up.
+
+ANTIGONUS	I swear to do this, though a present death
+	Had been more merciful. Come on, poor babe:
+	Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens
+	To be thy nurses! Wolves and bears, they say
+	Casting their savageness aside have done
+	Like offices of pity. Sir, be prosperous
+	In more than this deed does require! And blessing
+	Against this cruelty fight on thy side,
+	Poor thing, condemn'd to loss!
+
+	[Exit with the child]
+
+LEONTES	No, I'll not rear
+	Another's issue.
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+Servant	                  Please your highness, posts
+	From those you sent to the oracle are come
+	An hour since: Cleomenes and Dion,
+	Being well arrived from Delphos, are both landed,
+	Hasting to the court.
+
+First Lord	So please you, sir, their speed
+	Hath been beyond account.
+
+LEONTES	Twenty-three days
+	They have been absent: 'tis good speed; foretells
+	The great Apollo suddenly will have
+	The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords;
+	Summon a session, that we may arraign
+	Our most disloyal lady, for, as she hath
+	Been publicly accused, so shall she have
+	A just and open trial. While she lives
+	My heart will be a burthen to me. Leave me,
+	And think upon my bidding.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A sea-port in Sicilia.
+
+
+
+	[Enter CLEOMENES and DION]
+
+CLEOMENES	The climate's delicate, the air most sweet,
+	Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing
+	The common praise it bears.
+
+DION	I shall report,
+	For most it caught me, the celestial habits,
+	Methinks I so should term them, and the reverence
+	Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice!
+	How ceremonious, solemn and unearthly
+	It was i' the offering!
+
+CLEOMENES	But of all, the burst
+	And the ear-deafening voice o' the oracle,
+	Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense.
+	That I was nothing.
+
+DION	If the event o' the journey
+	Prove as successful to the queen,--O be't so!--
+	As it hath been to us rare, pleasant, speedy,
+	The time is worth the use on't.
+
+CLEOMENES	Great Apollo
+	Turn all to the best! These proclamations,
+	So forcing faults upon Hermione,
+	I little like.
+
+DION	                  The violent carriage of it
+	Will clear or end the business: when the oracle,
+	Thus by Apollo's great divine seal'd up,
+	Shall the contents discover, something rare
+	Even then will rush to knowledge. Go: fresh horses!
+	And gracious be the issue!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A court of Justice.
+
+
+	[Enter LEONTES, Lords, and Officers]
+
+LEONTES	This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce,
+	Even pushes 'gainst our heart: the party tried
+	The daughter of a king, our wife, and one
+	Of us too much beloved. Let us be clear'd
+	Of being tyrannous, since we so openly
+	Proceed in justice, which shall have due course,
+	Even to the guilt or the purgation.
+	Produce the prisoner.
+
+Officer	It is his highness' pleasure that the queen
+	Appear in person here in court. Silence!
+
+	[Enter HERMIONE guarded;
+	PAULINA and Ladies attending]
+
+LEONTES	Read the indictment.
+
+Officer	[Reads]            Hermione, queen to the worthy
+	Leontes, king of Sicilia, thou art here accused and
+	arraigned of high treason, in committing adultery
+	with Polixenes, king of Bohemia, and conspiring
+	with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign
+	lord the king, thy royal husband: the pretence
+	whereof being by circumstances partly laid open,
+	thou, Hermione, contrary to the faith and allegiance
+	of a true subject, didst counsel and aid them, for
+	their better safety, to fly away by night.
+
+HERMIONE	Since what I am to say must be but that
+	Which contradicts my accusation and
+	The testimony on my part no other
+	But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me
+	To say 'not guilty:' mine integrity
+	Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it,
+	Be so received. But thus: if powers divine
+	Behold our human actions, as they do,
+	I doubt not then but innocence shall make
+	False accusation blush and tyranny
+	Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know,
+	Who least will seem to do so, my past life
+	Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,
+	As I am now unhappy; which is more
+	Than history can pattern, though devised
+	And play'd to take spectators. For behold me
+	A fellow of the royal bed, which owe
+	A moiety of the throne a great king's daughter,
+	The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing
+	To prate and talk for life and honour 'fore
+	Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it
+	As I weigh grief, which I would spare: for honour,
+	'Tis a derivative from me to mine,
+	And only that I stand for. I appeal
+	To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes
+	Came to your court, how I was in your grace,
+	How merited to be so; since he came,
+	With what encounter so uncurrent I
+	Have strain'd to appear thus: if one jot beyond
+	The bound of honour, or in act or will
+	That way inclining, harden'd be the hearts
+	Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin
+	Cry fie upon my grave!
+
+LEONTES	I ne'er heard yet
+	That any of these bolder vices wanted
+	Less impudence to gainsay what they did
+	Than to perform it first.
+
+HERMIONE	That's true enough;
+	Through 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.
+
+LEONTES	You will not own it.
+
+HERMIONE	More than mistress of
+	Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not
+	At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,
+	With whom I am accused, I do confess
+	I loved him as in honour he required,
+	With such a kind of love as might become
+	A lady like me, with a love even such,
+	So and no other, as yourself commanded:
+	Which not to have done I think had been in me
+	Both disobedience and ingratitude
+	To you and toward your friend, whose love had spoke,
+	Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely
+	That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy,
+	I know not how it tastes; though it be dish'd
+	For me to try how: all I know of it
+	Is that Camillo was an honest man;
+	And why he left your court, the gods themselves,
+	Wotting no more than I, are ignorant.
+
+LEONTES	You knew of his departure, as you know
+	What you have underta'en to do in's absence.
+
+HERMIONE	Sir,
+	You speak a language that I understand not:
+	My life stands in the level of your dreams,
+	Which I'll lay down.
+
+LEONTES	Your actions are my dreams;
+	You had a bastard by Polixenes,
+	And I but dream'd it. As you were past all shame,--
+	Those of your fact are so--so past all truth:
+	Which to deny concerns more than avails; for as
+	Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself,
+	No father owning it,--which is, indeed,
+	More criminal in thee than it,--so thou
+	Shalt feel our justice, in whose easiest passage
+	Look for no less than death.
+
+HERMIONE	Sir, spare your threats:
+	The bug which you would fright me with I seek.
+	To me can life be no commodity:
+	The crown and comfort of my life, your favour,
+	I do give lost; for I do feel it gone,
+	But know not how it went. My second joy
+	And first-fruits of my body, from his presence
+	I am barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort
+	Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast,
+	The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth,
+	Haled out to murder: myself on every post
+	Proclaimed a strumpet: with immodest hatred
+	The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs
+	To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried
+	Here to this place, i' the open air, before
+	I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,
+	Tell me what blessings I have here alive,
+	That I should fear to die? Therefore proceed.
+	But yet hear this: mistake me not; no life,
+	I prize it not a straw, but for mine honour,
+	Which I would free, if I shall be condemn'd
+	Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else
+	But what your jealousies awake, I tell you
+	'Tis rigor and not law. Your honours all,
+	I do refer me to the oracle:
+	Apollo be my judge!
+
+First Lord	This your request
+	Is altogether just: therefore bring forth,
+	And in Apollos name, his oracle.
+
+	[Exeunt certain Officers]
+
+HERMIONE	The Emperor of Russia was my father:
+	O that he were alive, and here beholding
+	His daughter's trial! that he did but see
+	The flatness of my misery, yet with eyes
+	Of pity, not revenge!
+
+	[Re-enter Officers, with CLEOMENES and DION]
+
+Officer	You here shall swear upon this sword of justice,
+	That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have
+	Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought
+	The seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd
+	Of great Apollo's priest; and that, since then,
+	You have not dared to break the holy seal
+	Nor read the secrets in't.
+
+
+CLEOMENES	|
+	|	All this we swear.
+DION	|
+
+
+LEONTES	Break up the seals and read.
+
+Officer	[Reads]	Hermione is chaste;
+	Polixenes blameless; Camillo a true subject; Leontes
+	a jealous tyrant; his innocent babe truly begotten;
+	and the king shall live without an heir, if that
+	which is lost be not found.
+
+Lords	Now blessed be the great Apollo!
+
+HERMIONE	Praised!
+
+LEONTES	Hast thou read truth?
+
+Officer	Ay, my lord; even so
+	As it is here set down.
+
+LEONTES	There is no truth at all i' the oracle:
+	The sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood.
+
+	[Enter Servant]
+
+Servant	My lord the king, the king!
+
+LEONTES	What is the business?
+
+Servant	O sir, I shall be hated to report it!
+	The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear
+	Of the queen's speed, is gone.
+
+LEONTES	How! gone!
+
+Servant	Is dead.
+
+LEONTES	Apollo's angry; and the heavens themselves
+	Do strike at my injustice.
+
+	[HERMIONE swoons]
+
+		     How now there!
+
+PAULINA	This news is mortal to the queen: look down
+	And see what death is doing.
+
+LEONTES	Take her hence:
+	Her heart is but o'ercharged; she will recover:
+	I have too much believed mine own suspicion:
+	Beseech you, tenderly apply to her
+	Some remedies for life.
+
+	[Exeunt PAULINA and Ladies, with HERMIONE]
+
+		  Apollo, pardon
+	My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle!
+	I'll reconcile me to Polixenes,
+	New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo,
+	Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy;
+	For, being transported by my jealousies
+	To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose
+	Camillo for the minister to poison
+	My friend Polixenes: which had been done,
+	But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
+	My swift command, though I with death and with
+	Reward did threaten and encourage him,
+	Not doing 't and being done: he, most humane
+	And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest
+	Unclasp'd my practise, quit his fortunes here,
+	Which you knew great, and to the hazard
+	Of all encertainties himself commended,
+	No richer than his honour: how he glisters
+	Thorough my rust! and how his pity
+	Does my deeds make the blacker!
+
+	[Re-enter PAULINA]
+
+PAULINA	Woe the while!
+	O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
+	Break too.
+
+First Lord	          What fit is this, good lady?
+
+PAULINA	What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
+	What wheels? racks? fires? what flaying? boiling?
+	In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
+	Must I receive, whose every word deserves
+	To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny
+	Together working with thy jealousies,
+	Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
+	For girls of nine, O, think what they have done
+	And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all
+	Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
+	That thou betray'dst Polixenes,'twas nothing;
+	That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
+	And damnable ingrateful: nor was't much,
+	Thou wouldst have poison'd good Camillo's honour,
+	To have him kill a king: poor trespasses,
+	More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
+	The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
+	To be or none or little; though a devil
+	Would have shed water out of fire ere done't:
+	Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death
+	Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts,
+	Thoughts high for one so tender, cleft the heart
+	That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
+	Blemish'd his gracious dam: this is not, no,
+	Laid to thy answer: but the last,--O lords,
+	When I have said, cry 'woe!' the queen, the queen,
+	The sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead,
+	and vengeance for't
+	Not dropp'd down yet.
+
+First Lord	The higher powers forbid!
+
+PAULINA	I say she's dead; I'll swear't. If word nor oath
+	Prevail not, go and see: if you can bring
+	Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye,
+	Heat outwardly or breath within, I'll serve you
+	As I would do the gods. But, O thou tyrant!
+	Do not repent these things, for they are heavier
+	Than all thy woes can stir; therefore betake thee
+	To nothing but despair. A thousand knees
+	Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
+	Upon a barren mountain and still winter
+	In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
+	To look that way thou wert.
+
+LEONTES	Go on, go on
+	Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserved
+	All tongues to talk their bitterest.
+
+First Lord	Say no more:
+	Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault
+	I' the boldness of your speech.
+
+PAULINA	I am sorry for't:
+	All faults I make, when I shall come to know them,
+	I do repent. Alas! I have show'd too much
+	The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd
+	To the noble heart. What's gone and what's past help
+	Should be past grief: do not receive affliction
+	At my petition; I beseech you, rather
+	Let me be punish'd, that have minded you
+	Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege
+	Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman:
+	The love I bore your queen--lo, fool again!--
+	I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children;
+	I'll not remember you of my own lord,
+	Who is lost too: take your patience to you,
+	And I'll say nothing.
+
+LEONTES	Thou didst speak but well
+	When most the truth; which I receive much better
+	Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me
+	To the dead bodies of my queen and son:
+	One grave shall be for both: upon them shall
+	The causes of their death appear, unto
+	Our shame perpetual. Once a day I'll visit
+	The chapel where they lie, and tears shed there
+	Shall be my recreation: so long as nature
+	Will bear up with this exercise, so long
+	I daily vow to use it. Come and lead me
+	Unto these sorrows.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Bohemia. A desert country near the sea.
+
+
+	[Enter ANTIGONUS with a Child, and a Mariner]
+
+ANTIGONUS	Thou art perfect then, our ship hath touch'd upon
+	The deserts of Bohemia?
+
+Mariner	Ay, my lord: and fear
+	We have landed in ill time: the skies look grimly
+	And threaten present blusters. In my conscience,
+	The heavens with that we have in hand are angry
+	And frown upon 's.
+
+ANTIGONUS	Their sacred wills be done! Go, get aboard;
+	Look to thy bark: I'll not be long before
+	I call upon thee.
+
+Mariner	Make your best haste, and go not
+	Too far i' the land: 'tis like to be loud weather;
+	Besides, this place is famous for the creatures
+	Of prey that keep upon't.
+
+ANTIGONUS	Go thou away:
+	I'll follow instantly.
+
+Mariner	I am glad at heart
+	To be so rid o' the business.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ANTIGONUS	Come, poor babe:
+	I have heard, but not believed,
+	the spirits o' the dead
+	May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother
+	Appear'd to me last night, for ne'er was dream
+	So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
+	Sometimes her head on one side, some another;
+	I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,
+	So fill'd and so becoming: in pure white robes,
+	Like very sanctity, she did approach
+	My cabin where I lay; thrice bow'd before me,
+	And gasping to begin some speech, her eyes
+	Became two spouts: the fury spent, anon
+	Did this break-from her: 'Good Antigonus,
+	Since fate, against thy better disposition,
+	Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
+	Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,
+	Places remote enough are in Bohemia,
+	There weep and leave it crying; and, for the babe
+	Is counted lost for ever, Perdita,
+	I prithee, call't. For this ungentle business
+	Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see
+	Thy wife Paulina more.' And so, with shrieks
+	She melted into air. Affrighted much,
+	I did in time collect myself and thought
+	This was so and no slumber. Dreams are toys:
+	Yet for this once, yea, superstitiously,
+	I will be squared by this. I do believe
+	Hermione hath suffer'd death, and that
+	Apollo would, this being indeed the issue
+	Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid,
+	Either for life or death, upon the earth
+	Of its right father. Blossom, speed thee well!
+	There lie, and there thy character: there these;
+	Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty,
+	And still rest thine. The storm begins; poor wretch,
+	That for thy mother's fault art thus exposed
+	To loss and what may follow! Weep I cannot,
+	But my heart bleeds; and most accursed am I
+	To be by oath enjoin'd to this. Farewell!
+	The day frowns more and more: thou'rt like to have
+	A lullaby too rough: I never saw
+	The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour!
+	Well may I get aboard! This is the chase:
+	I am gone for ever.
+
+	[Exit, pursued by a bear]
+
+	[Enter a Shepherd]
+
+Shepherd	I would there were no age between sixteen and
+	three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the
+	rest; for there is nothing in the between but
+	getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry,
+	stealing, fighting--Hark you now! Would any but
+	these boiled brains of nineteen and two-and-twenty
+	hunt this weather? They have scared away two of my
+	best sheep, which I fear the wolf will sooner find
+	than the master: if any where I have them, 'tis by
+	the seaside, browsing of ivy. Good luck, an't be thy
+	will what have we here! Mercy on 's, a barne a very
+	pretty barne! A boy or a child, I wonder? A
+	pretty one; a very pretty one: sure, some 'scape:
+	though I am not bookish, yet I can read
+	waiting-gentlewoman in the 'scape. This has been
+	some stair-work, some trunk-work, some
+	behind-door-work: they were warmer that got this
+	than the poor thing is here. I'll take it up for
+	pity: yet I'll tarry till my son come; he hallooed
+	but even now. Whoa, ho, hoa!
+
+	[Enter Clown]
+
+Clown	Hilloa, loa!
+
+Shepherd	What, art so near? If thou'lt see a thing to talk
+	on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What
+	ailest thou, man?
+
+Clown	I have seen two such sights, by sea and by land!
+	but I am not to say it is a sea, for it is now the
+	sky: betwixt the firmament and it you cannot thrust
+	a bodkin's point.
+
+Shepherd	Why, boy, how is it?
+
+Clown	I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages,
+	how it takes up the shore! but that's not the
+	point. O, the most piteous cry of the poor souls!
+	sometimes to see 'em, and not to see 'em; now the
+	ship boring the moon with her main-mast, and anon
+	swallowed with yest and froth, as you'ld thrust a
+	cork into a hogshead. And then for the
+	land-service, to see how the bear tore out his
+	shoulder-bone; how he cried to me for help and said
+	his name was Antigonus, a nobleman. But to make an
+	end of the ship, to see how the sea flap-dragoned
+	it: but, first, how the poor souls roared, and the
+	sea mocked them; and how the poor gentleman roared
+	and the bear mocked him, both roaring louder than
+	the sea or weather.
+
+Shepherd	Name of mercy, when was this, boy?
+
+Clown	Now, now: I have not winked since I saw these
+	sights: the men are not yet cold under water, nor
+	the bear half dined on the gentleman: he's at it
+	now.
+
+Shepherd	Would I had been by, to have helped the old man!
+
+Clown	I would you had been by the ship side, to have
+	helped her: there your charity would have lacked footing.
+
+Shepherd	Heavy matters! heavy matters! but look thee here,
+	boy. Now bless thyself: thou mettest with things
+	dying, I with things newborn. Here's a sight for
+	thee; look thee, a bearing-cloth for a squire's
+	child! look thee here; take up, take up, boy;
+	open't. So, let's see: it was told me I should be
+	rich by the fairies. This is some changeling:
+	open't. What's within, boy?
+
+Clown	You're a made old man: if the sins of your youth
+	are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! all gold!
+
+Shepherd	This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill prove so: up
+	with't, keep it close: home, home, the next way.
+	We are lucky, boy; and to be so still requires
+	nothing but secrecy. Let my sheep go: come, good
+	boy, the next way home.
+
+Clown	Go you the next way with your findings. I'll go see
+	if the bear be gone from the gentleman and how much
+	he hath eaten: they are never curst but when they
+	are hungry: if there be any of him left, I'll bury
+	it.
+
+Shepherd	That's a good deed. If thou mayest discern by that
+	which is left of him what he is, fetch me to the
+	sight of him.
+
+Clown	Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i' the ground.
+
+Shepherd	'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we'll do good deeds on't.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I:
+
+
+	[Enter Time, the Chorus]
+
+Time	I, that please some, try all, both joy and terror
+	Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error,
+	Now take upon me, in the name of Time,
+	To use my wings. Impute it not a crime
+	To me or my swift passage, that I slide
+	O'er sixteen years and leave the growth untried
+	Of that wide gap, since it is in my power
+	To o'erthrow law and in one self-born hour
+	To plant and o'erwhelm custom. Let me pass
+	The same I am, ere ancient'st order was
+	Or what is now received: I witness to
+	The times that brought them in; so shall I do
+	To the freshest things now reigning and make stale
+	The glistering of this present, as my tale
+	Now seems to it. Your patience this allowing,
+	I turn my glass and give my scene such growing
+	As you had slept between: Leontes leaving,
+	The effects of his fond jealousies so grieving
+	That he shuts up himself, imagine me,
+	Gentle spectators, that I now may be
+	In fair Bohemia, and remember well,
+	I mentioned a son o' the king's, which Florizel
+	I now name to you; and with speed so pace
+	To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace
+	Equal with wondering: what of her ensues
+	I list not prophecy; but let Time's news
+	Be known when 'tis brought forth.
+	A shepherd's daughter,
+	And what to her adheres, which follows after,
+	Is the argument of Time. Of this allow,
+	If ever you have spent time worse ere now;
+	If never, yet that Time himself doth say
+	He wishes earnestly you never may.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Bohemia. The palace of POLIXENES.
+
+
+	[Enter POLIXENES and CAMILLO]
+
+POLIXENES	I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more importunate:
+	'tis a sickness denying thee any thing; a death to
+	grant this.
+
+CAMILLO	It is fifteen years since I saw my country: though
+	I have for the most part been aired abroad, I
+	desire to lay my bones there. Besides, the penitent
+	king, my master, hath sent for me; to whose feeling
+	sorrows I might be some allay, or I o'erween to
+	think so, which is another spur to my departure.
+
+POLIXENES	As thou lovest me, Camillo, wipe not out the rest of
+	thy services by leaving me now: the need I have of
+	thee thine own goodness hath made; better not to
+	have had thee than thus to want thee: thou, having
+	made me businesses which none without thee can
+	sufficiently manage, must either stay to execute
+	them thyself or take away with thee the very
+	services thou hast done; which if I have not enough
+	considered, as too much I cannot, to be more
+	thankful to thee shall be my study, and my profit
+	therein the heaping friendships. Of that fatal
+	country, Sicilia, prithee speak no more; whose very
+	naming punishes me with the remembrance of that
+	penitent, as thou callest him, and reconciled king,
+	my brother; whose loss of his most precious queen
+	and children are even now to be afresh lamented.
+	Say to me, when sawest thou the Prince Florizel, my
+	son? Kings are no less unhappy, their issue not
+	being gracious, than they are in losing them when
+	they have approved their virtues.
+
+CAMILLO	Sir, it is three days since I saw the prince. What
+	his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown: but I
+	have missingly noted, he is of late much retired
+	from court and is less frequent to his princely
+	exercises than formerly he hath appeared.
+
+POLIXENES	I have considered so much, Camillo, and with some
+	care; so far that I have eyes under my service which
+	look upon his removedness; from whom I have this
+	intelligence, that he is seldom from the house of a
+	most homely shepherd; a man, they say, that from
+	very nothing, and beyond the imagination of his
+	neighbours, is grown into an unspeakable estate.
+
+CAMILLO	I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a
+	daughter of most rare note: the report of her is
+	extended more than can be thought to begin from such a cottage.
+
+POLIXENES	That's likewise part of my intelligence; but, I
+	fear, the angle that plucks our son thither. Thou
+	shalt accompany us to the place; where we will, not
+	appearing what we are, have some question with the
+	shepherd; from whose simplicity I think it not
+	uneasy to get the cause of my son's resort thither.
+	Prithee, be my present partner in this business, and
+	lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia.
+
+CAMILLO	I willingly obey your command.
+
+POLIXENES	My best Camillo! We must disguise ourselves.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A road near the Shepherd's cottage.
+
+
+	[Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing]
+
+AUTOLYCUS	When daffodils begin to peer,
+	With heigh! the doxy over the dale,
+	Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year;
+	For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.
+
+	The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,
+	With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing!
+	Doth set my pugging tooth on edge;
+	For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.
+
+	The lark, that tirra-lyra chants,
+	With heigh! with heigh! the thrush and the jay,
+	Are summer songs for me and my aunts,
+	While we lie tumbling in the hay.
+
+	I have served Prince Florizel and in my time
+	wore three-pile; but now I am out of service:
+
+	But shall I go mourn for that, my dear?
+	The pale moon shines by night:
+	And when I wander here and there,
+	I then do most go right.
+
+	If tinkers may have leave to live,
+	And bear the sow-skin budget,
+	Then my account I well may, give,
+	And in the stocks avouch it.
+
+	My traffic is sheets; when the kite builds, look to
+	lesser linen. My father named me Autolycus; who
+	being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise
+	a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. With die and
+	drab I purchased this caparison, and my revenue is
+	the silly cheat. Gallows and knock are too powerful
+	on the highway: beating and hanging are terrors to
+	me: for the life to come, I sleep out the thought
+	of it. A prize! a prize!
+
+	[Enter Clown]
+
+Clown	Let me see: every 'leven wether tods; every tod
+	yields pound and odd shilling; fifteen hundred
+	shorn. what comes the wool to?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	[Aside]
+
+	If the springe hold, the cock's mine.
+
+Clown	I cannot do't without counters. Let me see; what am
+	I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast? Three pound
+	of sugar, five pound of currants, rice,--what will
+	this sister of mine do with rice? But my father
+	hath made her mistress of the feast, and she lays it
+	on. She hath made me four and twenty nose-gays for
+	the shearers, three-man-song-men all, and very good
+	ones; but they are most of them means and bases; but
+	one puritan amongst them, and he sings psalms to
+	horn-pipes. I must have saffron to colour the warden
+	pies; mace; dates?--none, that's out of my note;
+	nutmegs, seven; a race or two of ginger, but that I
+	may beg; four pound of prunes, and as many of
+	raisins o' the sun.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	O that ever I was born!
+
+	[Grovelling on the ground]
+
+Clown	I' the name of me--
+
+AUTOLYCUS	O, help me, help me! pluck but off these rags; and
+	then, death, death!
+
+Clown	Alack, poor soul! thou hast need of more rags to lay
+	on thee, rather than have these off.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	O sir, the loathsomeness of them offends me more
+	than the stripes I have received, which are mighty
+	ones and millions.
+
+Clown	Alas, poor man! a million of beating may come to a
+	great matter.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	I am robbed, sir, and beaten; my money and apparel
+	ta'en from me, and these detestable things put upon
+	me.
+
+Clown	What, by a horseman, or a footman?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	A footman, sweet sir, a footman.
+
+Clown	Indeed, he should be a footman by the garments he
+	has left with thee: if this be a horseman's coat,
+	it hath seen very hot service. Lend me thy hand,
+	I'll help thee: come, lend me thy hand.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	O, good sir, tenderly, O!
+
+Clown	Alas, poor soul!
+
+AUTOLYCUS	O, good sir, softly, good sir! I fear, sir, my
+	shoulder-blade is out.
+
+Clown	How now! canst stand?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	[Picking his pocket]
+
+	Softly, dear sir; good sir, softly. You ha' done me
+	a charitable office.
+
+Clown	Dost lack any money? I have a little money for thee.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	No, good sweet sir; no, I beseech you, sir: I have
+	a kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence,
+	unto whom I was going; I shall there have money, or
+	any thing I want: offer me no money, I pray you;
+	that kills my heart.
+
+Clown	What manner of fellow was he that robbed you?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	A fellow, sir, that I have known to go about with
+	troll-my-dames; I knew him once a servant of the
+	prince: I cannot tell, good sir, for which of his
+	virtues it was, but he was certainly whipped out of the court.
+
+Clown	His vices, you would say; there's no virtue whipped
+	out of the court: they cherish it to make it stay
+	there; and yet it will no more but abide.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Vices, I would say, sir. I know this man well: he
+	hath been since an ape-bearer; then a
+	process-server, a bailiff; then he compassed a
+	motion of the Prodigal Son, and married a tinker's
+	wife within a mile where my land and living lies;
+	and, having flown over many knavish professions, he
+	settled only in rogue: some call him Autolycus.
+
+Clown	Out upon him! prig, for my life, prig: he haunts
+	wakes, fairs and bear-baitings.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Very true, sir; he, sir, he; that's the rogue that
+	put me into this apparel.
+
+Clown	Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia: if you had
+	but looked big and spit at him, he'ld have run.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	I must confess to you, sir, I am no fighter: I am
+	false of heart that way; and that he knew, I warrant
+	him.
+
+Clown	How do you now?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Sweet sir, much better than I was; I can stand and
+	walk: I will even take my leave of you, and pace
+	softly towards my kinsman's.
+
+Clown	Shall I bring thee on the way?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	No, good-faced sir; no, sweet sir.
+
+Clown	Then fare thee well: I must go buy spices for our
+	sheep-shearing.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Prosper you, sweet sir!
+
+	[Exit Clown]
+
+	Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your spice.
+	I'll be with you at your sheep-shearing too: if I
+	make not this cheat bring out another and the
+	shearers prove sheep, let me be unrolled and my name
+	put in the book of virtue!
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way,
+	And merrily hent the stile-a:
+	A merry heart goes all the day,
+	Your sad tires in a mile-a.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The Shepherd's cottage.
+
+
+	[Enter FLORIZEL and PERDITA]
+
+FLORIZEL	These your unusual weeds to each part of you
+	Do give a life: no shepherdess, but Flora
+	Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing
+	Is as a meeting of the petty gods,
+	And you the queen on't.
+
+PERDITA	Sir, my gracious lord,
+	To chide at your extremes it not becomes me:
+	O, pardon, that I name them! Your high self,
+	The gracious mark o' the land, you have obscured
+	With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid,
+	Most goddess-like prank'd up: but that our feasts
+	In every mess have folly and the feeders
+	Digest it with a custom, I should blush
+	To see you so attired, sworn, I think,
+	To show myself a glass.
+
+FLORIZEL	I bless the time
+	When my good falcon made her flight across
+	Thy father's ground.
+
+PERDITA	Now Jove afford you cause!
+	To me the difference forges dread; your greatness
+	Hath not been used to fear. Even now I tremble
+	To think your father, by some accident,
+	Should pass this way as you did: O, the Fates!
+	How would he look, to see his work so noble
+	Vilely bound up? What would he say? Or how
+	Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold
+	The sternness of his presence?
+
+FLORIZEL	Apprehend
+	Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves,
+	Humbling their deities to love, have taken
+	The shapes of beasts upon them: Jupiter
+	Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune
+	A ram, and bleated; and the fire-robed god,
+	Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain,
+	As I seem now. Their transformations
+	Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
+	Nor in a way so chaste, since my desires
+	Run not before mine honour, nor my lusts
+	Burn hotter than my faith.
+
+PERDITA	O, but, sir,
+	Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis
+	Opposed, as it must be, by the power of the king:
+	One of these two must be necessities,
+	Which then will speak, that you must
+	change this purpose,
+	Or I my life.
+
+FLORIZEL	                  Thou dearest Perdita,
+	With these forced thoughts, I prithee, darken not
+	The mirth o' the feast. Or I'll be thine, my fair,
+	Or not my father's. For I cannot be
+	Mine own, nor any thing to any, if
+	I be not thine. To this I am most constant,
+	Though destiny say no. Be merry, gentle;
+	Strangle such thoughts as these with any thing
+	That you behold the while. Your guests are coming:
+	Lift up your countenance, as it were the day
+	Of celebration of that nuptial which
+	We two have sworn shall come.
+
+PERDITA	O lady Fortune,
+	Stand you auspicious!
+
+FLORIZEL	See, your guests approach:
+	Address yourself to entertain them sprightly,
+	And let's be red with mirth.
+
+	[Enter Shepherd, Clown, MOPSA, DORCAS, and
+	others, with POLIXENES and CAMILLO disguised]
+
+Shepherd	Fie, daughter! when my old wife lived, upon
+	This day she was both pantler, butler, cook,
+	Both dame and servant; welcomed all, served all;
+	Would sing her song and dance her turn; now here,
+	At upper end o' the table, now i' the middle;
+	On his shoulder, and his; her face o' fire
+	With labour and the thing she took to quench it,
+	She would to each one sip. You are retired,
+	As if you were a feasted one and not
+	The hostess of the meeting: pray you, bid
+	These unknown friends to's welcome; for it is
+	A way to make us better friends, more known.
+	Come, quench your blushes and present yourself
+	That which you are, mistress o' the feast: come on,
+	And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing,
+	As your good flock shall prosper.
+
+PERDITA	[To POLIXENES]                  Sir, welcome:
+	It is my father's will I should take on me
+	The hostess-ship o' the day.
+
+	[To CAMILLO]
+
+		       You're welcome, sir.
+	Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. Reverend sirs,
+	For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep
+	Seeming and savour all the winter long:
+	Grace and remembrance be to you both,
+	And welcome to our shearing!
+
+POLIXENES	Shepherdess,
+	A fair one are you--well you fit our ages
+	With flowers of winter.
+
+PERDITA	Sir, the year growing ancient,
+	Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth
+	Of trembling winter, the fairest
+	flowers o' the season
+	Are our carnations and streak'd gillyvors,
+	Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind
+	Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not
+	To get slips of them.
+
+POLIXENES	Wherefore, gentle maiden,
+	Do you neglect them?
+
+PERDITA	For I have heard it said
+	There is an art which in their piedness shares
+	With great creating nature.
+
+POLIXENES	Say there be;
+	Yet nature is made better by no mean
+	But nature makes that mean: so, over that art
+	Which you say adds to nature, is an art
+	That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry
+	A gentler scion to the wildest stock,
+	And make conceive a bark of baser kind
+	By bud of nobler race: this is an art
+	Which does mend nature, change it rather, but
+	The art itself is nature.
+
+PERDITA	So it is.
+
+POLIXENES	Then make your garden rich in gillyvors,
+	And do not call them bastards.
+
+PERDITA	I'll not put
+	The dibble in earth to set one slip of them;
+	No more than were I painted I would wish
+	This youth should say 'twere well and only therefore
+	Desire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you;
+	Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram;
+	The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun
+	And with him rises weeping: these are flowers
+	Of middle summer, and I think they are given
+	To men of middle age. You're very welcome.
+
+CAMILLO	I should leave grazing, were I of your flock,
+	And only live by gazing.
+
+PERDITA	Out, alas!
+	You'd be so lean, that blasts of January
+	Would blow you through and through.
+	Now, my fair'st friend,
+	I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might
+	Become your time of day; and yours, and yours,
+	That wear upon your virgin branches yet
+	Your maidenheads growing: O Proserpina,
+	For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall
+	From Dis's waggon! daffodils,
+	That come before the swallow dares, and take
+	The winds of March with beauty; violets dim,
+	But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes
+	Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses
+	That die unmarried, ere they can behold
+	Bight Phoebus in his strength--a malady
+	Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and
+	The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds,
+	The flower-de-luce being one! O, these I lack,
+	To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend,
+	To strew him o'er and o'er!
+
+FLORIZEL	What, like a corse?
+
+PERDITA	No, like a bank for love to lie and play on;
+	Not like a corse; or if, not to be buried,
+	But quick and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers:
+	Methinks I play as I have seen them do
+	In Whitsun pastorals: sure this robe of mine
+	Does change my disposition.
+
+FLORIZEL	What you do
+	Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet.
+	I'ld have you do it ever: when you sing,
+	I'ld have you buy and sell so, so give alms,
+	Pray so; and, for the ordering your affairs,
+	To sing them too: when you do dance, I wish you
+	A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do
+	Nothing but that; move still, still so,
+	And own no other function: each your doing,
+	So singular in each particular,
+	Crowns what you are doing in the present deed,
+	That all your acts are queens.
+
+PERDITA	O Doricles,
+	Your praises are too large: but that your youth,
+	And the true blood which peepeth fairly through't,
+	Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd,
+	With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,
+	You woo'd me the false way.
+
+FLORIZEL	I think you have
+	As little skill to fear as I have purpose
+	To put you to't. But come; our dance, I pray:
+	Your hand, my Perdita: so turtles pair,
+	That never mean to part.
+
+PERDITA	I'll swear for 'em.
+
+POLIXENES	This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever
+	Ran on the green-sward: nothing she does or seems
+	But smacks of something greater than herself,
+	Too noble for this place.
+
+CAMILLO	He tells her something
+	That makes her blood look out: good sooth, she is
+	The queen of curds and cream.
+
+Clown	Come on, strike up!
+
+DORCAS	Mopsa must be your mistress: marry, garlic,
+	To mend her kissing with!
+
+MOPSA	Now, in good time!
+
+Clown	Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners.
+	Come, strike up!
+
+	[Music. Here a dance of Shepherds and
+	Shepherdesses]
+
+POLIXENES	Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this
+	Which dances with your daughter?
+
+Shepherd	They call him Doricles; and boasts himself
+	To have a worthy feeding: but I have it
+	Upon his own report and I believe it;
+	He looks like sooth. He says he loves my daughter:
+	I think so too; for never gazed the moon
+	Upon the water as he'll stand and read
+	As 'twere my daughter's eyes: and, to be plain.
+	I think there is not half a kiss to choose
+	Who loves another best.
+
+POLIXENES	She dances featly.
+
+Shepherd	So she does any thing; though I report it,
+	That should be silent: if young Doricles
+	Do light upon her, she shall bring him that
+	Which he not dreams of.
+
+	[Enter Servant]
+
+Servant	O master, if you did but hear the pedlar at the
+	door, you would never dance again after a tabour and
+	pipe; no, the bagpipe could not move you: he sings
+	several tunes faster than you'll tell money; he
+	utters them as he had eaten ballads and all men's
+	ears grew to his tunes.
+
+Clown	He could never come better; he shall come in. I
+	love a ballad but even too well, if it be doleful
+	matter merrily set down, or a very pleasant thing
+	indeed and sung lamentably.
+
+Servant	He hath songs for man or woman, of all sizes; no
+	milliner can so fit his customers with gloves: he
+	has the prettiest love-songs for maids; so without
+	bawdry, which is strange; with such delicate
+	burthens of dildos and fadings, 'jump her and thump
+	her;' and where some stretch-mouthed rascal would,
+	as it were, mean mischief and break a foul gap into
+	the matter, he makes the maid to answer 'Whoop, do me
+	no harm, good man;' puts him off, slights him, with
+	'Whoop, do me no harm, good man.'
+
+POLIXENES	This is a brave fellow.
+
+Clown	Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited
+	fellow. Has he any unbraided wares?
+
+Servant	He hath ribbons of an the colours i' the rainbow;
+	points more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can
+	learnedly handle, though they come to him by the
+	gross: inkles, caddisses, cambrics, lawns: why, he
+	sings 'em over as they were gods or goddesses; you
+	would think a smock were a she-angel, he so chants
+	to the sleeve-hand and the work about the square on't.
+
+Clown	Prithee bring him in; and let him approach singing.
+
+PERDITA	Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words in 's tunes.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+Clown	You have of these pedlars, that have more in them
+	than you'ld think, sister.
+
+PERDITA	Ay, good brother, or go about to think.
+
+	[Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing]
+
+AUTOLYCUS	     Lawn as white as driven snow;
+	Cyprus black as e'er was crow;
+	Gloves as sweet as damask roses;
+	Masks for faces and for noses;
+	Bugle bracelet, necklace amber,
+	Perfume for a lady's chamber;
+	Golden quoifs and stomachers,
+	For my lads to give their dears:
+	Pins and poking-sticks of steel,
+	What maids lack from head to heel:
+	Come buy of me, come; come buy, come buy;
+	Buy lads, or else your lasses cry: Come buy.
+
+Clown	If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou shouldst take
+	no money of me; but being enthralled as I am, it
+	will also be the bondage of certain ribbons and gloves.
+
+MOPSA	I was promised them against the feast; but they come
+	not too late now.
+
+DORCAS	He hath promised you more than that, or there be liars.
+
+MOPSA	He hath paid you all he promised you; may be, he has
+	paid you more, which will shame you to give him again.
+
+Clown	Is there no manners left among maids? will they
+	wear their plackets where they should bear their
+	faces? Is there not milking-time, when you are
+	going to bed, or kiln-hole, to whistle off these
+	secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling before all
+	our guests? 'tis well they are whispering: clamour
+	your tongues, and not a word more.
+
+MOPSA	I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry-lace
+	and a pair of sweet gloves.
+
+Clown	Have I not told thee how I was cozened by the way
+	and lost all my money?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	And indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad;
+	therefore it behoves men to be wary.
+
+Clown	Fear not thou, man, thou shalt lose nothing here.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	I hope so, sir; for I have about me many parcels of charge.
+
+Clown	What hast here? ballads?
+
+MOPSA	Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in print o'
+	life, for then we are sure they are true.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Here's one to a very doleful tune, how a usurer's
+	wife was brought to bed of twenty money-bags at a
+	burthen and how she longed to eat adders' heads and
+	toads carbonadoed.
+
+MOPSA	Is it true, think you?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Very true, and but a month old.
+
+DORCAS	Bless me from marrying a usurer!
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Here's the midwife's name to't, one Mistress
+	Tale-porter, and five or six honest wives that were
+	present. Why should I carry lies abroad?
+
+MOPSA	Pray you now, buy it.
+
+Clown	Come on, lay it by: and let's first see moe
+	ballads; we'll buy the other things anon.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Here's another ballad of a fish, that appeared upon
+	the coast on Wednesday the four-score of April,
+	forty thousand fathom above water, and sung this
+	ballad against the hard hearts of maids: it was
+	thought she was a woman and was turned into a cold
+	fish for she would not exchange flesh with one that
+	loved her: the ballad is very pitiful and as true.
+
+DORCAS	Is it true too, think you?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Five justices' hands at it, and witnesses more than
+	my pack will hold.
+
+Clown	Lay it by too: another.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one.
+
+MOPSA	Let's have some merry ones.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Why, this is a passing merry one and goes to
+	the tune of 'Two maids wooing a man:' there's
+	scarce a maid westward but she sings it; 'tis in
+	request, I can tell you.
+
+MOPSA	We can both sing it: if thou'lt bear a part, thou
+	shalt hear; 'tis in three parts.
+
+DORCAS	We had the tune on't a month ago.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	I can bear my part; you must know 'tis my
+	occupation; have at it with you.
+	[SONG]
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Get you hence, for I must go
+	Where it fits not you to know.
+
+DORCAS	     Whither?
+
+MOPSA	                  O, whither?
+
+DORCAS	Whither?
+
+MOPSA	     It becomes thy oath full well,
+	Thou to me thy secrets tell.
+
+DORCAS	          Me too, let me go thither.
+
+MOPSA	     Or thou goest to the orange or mill.
+
+DORCAS	     If to either, thou dost ill.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Neither.
+
+DORCAS	       What, neither?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Neither.
+
+DORCAS	     Thou hast sworn my love to be.
+
+MOPSA	     Thou hast sworn it more to me:
+	Then whither goest? say, whither?
+
+Clown	We'll have this song out anon by ourselves: my
+	father and the gentlemen are in sad talk, and we'll
+	not trouble them. Come, bring away thy pack after
+	me. Wenches, I'll buy for you both. Pedlar, let's
+	have the first choice. Follow me, girls.
+
+	[Exit with DORCAS and MOPSA]
+
+AUTOLYCUS	And you shall pay well for 'em.
+
+	[Follows singing]
+
+	Will you buy any tape,
+	Or lace for your cape,
+	My dainty duck, my dear-a?
+	Any silk, any thread,
+	Any toys for your head,
+	Of the new'st and finest, finest wear-a?
+	Come to the pedlar;
+	Money's a medler.
+	That doth utter all men's ware-a.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter Servant]
+
+Servant	Master, there is three carters, three shepherds,
+	three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that have made
+	themselves all men of hair, they call themselves
+	Saltiers, and they have a dance which the wenches
+	say is a gallimaufry of gambols, because they are
+	not in't; but they themselves are o' the mind, if it
+	be not too rough for some that know little but
+	bowling, it will please plentifully.
+
+Shepherd	Away! we'll none on 't: here has been too much
+	homely foolery already. I know, sir, we weary you.
+
+POLIXENES	You weary those that refresh us: pray, let's see
+	these four threes of herdsmen.
+
+Servant	One three of them, by their own report, sir, hath
+	danced before the king; and not the worst of the
+	three but jumps twelve foot and a half by the squier.
+
+Shepherd	Leave your prating: since these good men are
+	pleased, let them come in; but quickly now.
+
+Servant	Why, they stay at door, sir.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Here a dance of twelve Satyrs]
+
+POLIXENES	O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter.
+
+	[To CAMILLO]
+
+	Is it not too far gone? 'Tis time to part them.
+	He's simple and tells much.
+
+	[To FLORIZEL]
+
+		      How now, fair shepherd!
+	Your heart is full of something that does take
+	Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young
+	And handed love as you do, I was wont
+	To load my she with knacks: I would have ransack'd
+	The pedlar's silken treasury and have pour'd it
+	To her acceptance; you have let him go
+	And nothing marted with him. If your lass
+	Interpretation should abuse and call this
+	Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited
+	For a reply, at least if you make a care
+	Of happy holding her.
+
+FLORIZEL	Old sir, I know
+	She prizes not such trifles as these are:
+	The gifts she looks from me are pack'd and lock'd
+	Up in my heart; which I have given already,
+	But not deliver'd. O, hear me breathe my life
+	Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem,
+	Hath sometime loved! I take thy hand, this hand,
+	As soft as dove's down and as white as it,
+	Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd
+	snow that's bolted
+	By the northern blasts twice o'er.
+
+POLIXENES	What follows this?
+	How prettily the young swain seems to wash
+	The hand was fair before! I have put you out:
+	But to your protestation; let me hear
+	What you profess.
+
+FLORIZEL	                  Do, and be witness to 't.
+
+POLIXENES	And this my neighbour too?
+
+FLORIZEL	And he, and more
+	Than he, and men, the earth, the heavens, and all:
+	That, were I crown'd the most imperial monarch,
+	Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth
+	That ever made eye swerve, had force and knowledge
+	More than was ever man's, I would not prize them
+	Without her love; for her employ them all;
+	Commend them and condemn them to her service
+	Or to their own perdition.
+
+POLIXENES	Fairly offer'd.
+
+CAMILLO	This shows a sound affection.
+
+Shepherd	But, my daughter,
+	Say you the like to him?
+
+PERDITA	I cannot speak
+	So well, nothing so well; no, nor mean better:
+	By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out
+	The purity of his.
+
+Shepherd	                  Take hands, a bargain!
+	And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to 't:
+	I give my daughter to him, and will make
+	Her portion equal his.
+
+FLORIZEL	O, that must be
+	I' the virtue of your daughter: one being dead,
+	I shall have more than you can dream of yet;
+	Enough then for your wonder. But, come on,
+	Contract us 'fore these witnesses.
+
+Shepherd	Come, your hand;
+	And, daughter, yours.
+
+POLIXENES	Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you;
+	Have you a father?
+
+FLORIZEL	                  I have: but what of him?
+
+POLIXENES	Knows he of this?
+
+FLORIZEL	                  He neither does nor shall.
+
+POLIXENES	Methinks a father
+	Is at the nuptial of his son a guest
+	That best becomes the table. Pray you once more,
+	Is not your father grown incapable
+	Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid
+	With age and altering rheums? can he speak? hear?
+	Know man from man? dispute his own estate?
+	Lies he not bed-rid? and again does nothing
+	But what he did being childish?
+
+FLORIZEL	No, good sir;
+	He has his health and ampler strength indeed
+	Than most have of his age.
+
+POLIXENES	By my white beard,
+	You offer him, if this be so, a wrong
+	Something unfilial: reason my son
+	Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason
+	The father, all whose joy is nothing else
+	But fair posterity, should hold some counsel
+	In such a business.
+
+FLORIZEL	I yield all this;
+	But for some other reasons, my grave sir,
+	Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
+	My father of this business.
+
+POLIXENES	Let him know't.
+
+FLORIZEL	He shall not.
+
+POLIXENES	                  Prithee, let him.
+
+FLORIZEL	No, he must not.
+
+Shepherd	Let him, my son: he shall not need to grieve
+	At knowing of thy choice.
+
+FLORIZEL	Come, come, he must not.
+	Mark our contract.
+
+POLIXENES	                  Mark your divorce, young sir,
+
+	[Discovering himself]
+
+	Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base
+	To be acknowledged: thou a sceptre's heir,
+	That thus affect'st a sheep-hook! Thou old traitor,
+	I am sorry that by hanging thee I can
+	But shorten thy life one week. And thou, fresh piece
+	Of excellent witchcraft, who of force must know
+	The royal fool thou copest with,--
+
+Shepherd	O, my heart!
+
+POLIXENES	I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briers, and made
+	More homely than thy state. For thee, fond boy,
+	If I may ever know thou dost but sigh
+	That thou no more shalt see this knack, as never
+	I mean thou shalt, we'll bar thee from succession;
+	Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,
+	Far than Deucalion off: mark thou my words:
+	Follow us to the court. Thou churl, for this time,
+	Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee
+	From the dead blow of it. And you, enchantment.--
+	Worthy enough a herdsman: yea, him too,
+	That makes himself, but for our honour therein,
+	Unworthy thee,--if ever henceforth thou
+	These rural latches to his entrance open,
+	Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,
+	I will devise a death as cruel for thee
+	As thou art tender to't.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PERDITA	Even here undone!
+	I was not much afeard; for once or twice
+	I was about to speak and tell him plainly,
+	The selfsame sun that shines upon his court
+	Hides not his visage from our cottage but
+	Looks on alike. Will't please you, sir, be gone?
+	I told you what would come of this: beseech you,
+	Of your own state take care: this dream of mine,--
+	Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther,
+	But milk my ewes and weep.
+
+CAMILLO	Why, how now, father!
+	Speak ere thou diest.
+
+Shepherd	I cannot speak, nor think
+	Nor dare to know that which I know. O sir!
+	You have undone a man of fourscore three,
+	That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea,
+	To die upon the bed my father died,
+	To lie close by his honest bones: but now
+	Some hangman must put on my shroud and lay me
+	Where no priest shovels in dust. O cursed wretch,
+	That knew'st this was the prince,
+	and wouldst adventure
+	To mingle faith with him! Undone! undone!
+	If I might die within this hour, I have lived
+	To die when I desire.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FLORIZEL	Why look you so upon me?
+	I am but sorry, not afeard; delay'd,
+	But nothing alter'd: what I was, I am;
+	More straining on for plucking back, not following
+	My leash unwillingly.
+
+CAMILLO	Gracious my lord,
+	You know your father's temper: at this time
+	He will allow no speech, which I do guess
+	You do not purpose to him; and as hardly
+	Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear:
+	Then, till the fury of his highness settle,
+	Come not before him.
+
+FLORIZEL	I not purpose it.
+	I think, Camillo?
+
+CAMILLO	                  Even he, my lord.
+
+PERDITA	How often have I told you 'twould be thus!
+	How often said, my dignity would last
+	But till 'twere known!
+
+FLORIZEL	It cannot fail but by
+	The violation of my faith; and then
+	Let nature crush the sides o' the earth together
+	And mar the seeds within! Lift up thy looks:
+	From my succession wipe me, father; I
+	Am heir to my affection.
+
+CAMILLO	Be advised.
+
+FLORIZEL	I am, and by my fancy: if my reason
+	Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;
+	If not, my senses, better pleased with madness,
+	Do bid it welcome.
+
+CAMILLO	                  This is desperate, sir.
+
+FLORIZEL	So call it: but it does fulfil my vow;
+	I needs must think it honesty. Camillo,
+	Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may
+	Be thereat glean'd, for all the sun sees or
+	The close earth wombs or the profound sea hides
+	In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath
+	To this my fair beloved: therefore, I pray you,
+	As you have ever been my father's honour'd friend,
+	When he shall miss me,--as, in faith, I mean not
+	To see him any more,--cast your good counsels
+	Upon his passion; let myself and fortune
+	Tug for the time to come. This you may know
+	And so deliver, I am put to sea
+	With her whom here I cannot hold on shore;
+	And most opportune to our need I have
+	A vessel rides fast by, but not prepared
+	For this design. What course I mean to hold
+	Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
+	Concern me the reporting.
+
+CAMILLO	O my lord!
+	I would your spirit were easier for advice,
+	Or stronger for your need.
+
+FLORIZEL	Hark, Perdita
+
+	[Drawing her aside]
+
+	I'll hear you by and by.
+
+CAMILLO	He's irremoveable,
+	Resolved for flight. Now were I happy, if
+	His going I could frame to serve my turn,
+	Save him from danger, do him love and honour,
+	Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia
+	And that unhappy king, my master, whom
+	I so much thirst to see.
+
+FLORIZEL	Now, good Camillo;
+	I am so fraught with curious business that
+	I leave out ceremony.
+
+CAMILLO	Sir, I think
+	You have heard of my poor services, i' the love
+	That I have borne your father?
+
+FLORIZEL	Very nobly
+	Have you deserved: it is my father's music
+	To speak your deeds, not little of his care
+	To have them recompensed as thought on.
+
+CAMILLO	Well, my lord,
+	If you may please to think I love the king
+	And through him what is nearest to him, which is
+	Your gracious self, embrace but my direction:
+	If your more ponderous and settled project
+	May suffer alteration, on mine honour,
+	I'll point you where you shall have such receiving
+	As shall become your highness; where you may
+	Enjoy your mistress, from the whom, I see,
+	There's no disjunction to be made, but by--
+	As heavens forefend!--your ruin; marry her,
+	And, with my best endeavours in your absence,
+	Your discontenting father strive to qualify
+	And bring him up to liking.
+
+FLORIZEL	How, Camillo,
+	May this, almost a miracle, be done?
+	That I may call thee something more than man
+	And after that trust to thee.
+
+CAMILLO	Have you thought on
+	A place whereto you'll go?
+
+FLORIZEL	Not any yet:
+	But as the unthought-on accident is guilty
+	To what we wildly do, so we profess
+	Ourselves to be the slaves of chance and flies
+	Of every wind that blows.
+
+CAMILLO	Then list to me:
+	This follows, if you will not change your purpose
+	But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia,
+	And there present yourself and your fair princess,
+	For so I see she must be, 'fore Leontes:
+	She shall be habited as it becomes
+	The partner of your bed. Methinks I see
+	Leontes opening his free arms and weeping
+	His welcomes forth; asks thee the son forgiveness,
+	As 'twere i' the father's person; kisses the hands
+	Of your fresh princess; o'er and o'er divides him
+	'Twixt his unkindness and his kindness; the one
+	He chides to hell and bids the other grow
+	Faster than thought or time.
+
+FLORIZEL	Worthy Camillo,
+	What colour for my visitation shall I
+	Hold up before him?
+
+CAMILLO	Sent by the king your father
+	To greet him and to give him comforts. Sir,
+	The manner of your bearing towards him, with
+	What you as from your father shall deliver,
+	Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you down:
+	The which shall point you forth at every sitting
+	What you must say; that he shall not perceive
+	But that you have your father's bosom there
+	And speak his very heart.
+
+FLORIZEL	I am bound to you:
+	There is some sap in this.
+
+CAMILLO	A cause more promising
+	Than a wild dedication of yourselves
+	To unpath'd waters, undream'd shores, most certain
+	To miseries enough; no hope to help you,
+	But as you shake off one to take another;
+	Nothing so certain as your anchors, who
+	Do their best office, if they can but stay you
+	Where you'll be loath to be: besides you know
+	Prosperity's the very bond of love,
+	Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together
+	Affliction alters.
+
+PERDITA	                  One of these is true:
+	I think affliction may subdue the cheek,
+	But not take in the mind.
+
+CAMILLO	Yea, say you so?
+	There shall not at your father's house these
+	seven years
+	Be born another such.
+
+FLORIZEL	My good Camillo,
+	She is as forward of her breeding as
+	She is i' the rear our birth.
+
+CAMILLO	I cannot say 'tis pity
+	She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress
+	To most that teach.
+
+PERDITA	Your pardon, sir; for this
+	I'll blush you thanks.
+
+FLORIZEL	My prettiest Perdita!
+	But O, the thorns we stand upon! Camillo,
+	Preserver of my father, now of me,
+	The medicine of our house, how shall we do?
+	We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's son,
+	Nor shall appear in Sicilia.
+
+CAMILLO	My lord,
+	Fear none of this: I think you know my fortunes
+	Do all lie there: it shall be so my care
+	To have you royally appointed as if
+	The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir,
+	That you may know you shall not want, one word.
+
+	[They talk aside]
+
+	[Re-enter AUTOLYCUS]
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! and Trust, his
+	sworn brother, a very simple gentleman! I have sold
+	all my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not a
+	ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch, table-book, ballad,
+	knife, tape, glove, shoe-tie, bracelet, horn-ring,
+	to keep my pack from fasting: they throng who
+	should buy first, as if my trinkets had been
+	hallowed and brought a benediction to the buyer:
+	by which means I saw whose purse was best in
+	picture; and what I saw, to my good use I
+	remembered. My clown, who wants but something to
+	be a reasonable man, grew so in love with the
+	wenches' song, that he would not stir his pettitoes
+	till he had both tune and words; which so drew the
+	rest of the herd to me that all their other senses
+	stuck in ears: you might have pinched a placket, it
+	was senseless; 'twas nothing to geld a codpiece of a
+	purse; I could have filed keys off that hung in
+	chains: no hearing, no feeling, but my sir's song,
+	and admiring the nothing of it. So that in this
+	time of lethargy I picked and cut most of their
+	festival purses; and had not the old man come in
+	with a whoo-bub against his daughter and the king's
+	son and scared my choughs from the chaff, I had not
+	left a purse alive in the whole army.
+
+	[CAMILLO, FLORIZEL, and PERDITA come forward]
+
+CAMILLO	Nay, but my letters, by this means being there
+	So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt.
+
+FLORIZEL	And those that you'll procure from King Leontes--
+
+CAMILLO	Shall satisfy your father.
+
+PERDITA	Happy be you!
+	All that you speak shows fair.
+
+CAMILLO	Who have we here?
+
+	[Seeing AUTOLYCUS]
+
+	We'll make an instrument of this, omit
+	Nothing may give us aid.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	If they have overheard me now, why, hanging.
+
+CAMILLO	How now, good fellow! why shakest thou so? Fear
+	not, man; here's no harm intended to thee.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	I am a poor fellow, sir.
+
+CAMILLO	Why, be so still; here's nobody will steal that from
+	thee: yet for the outside of thy poverty we must
+	make an exchange; therefore discase thee instantly,
+	--thou must think there's a necessity in't,--and
+	change garments with this gentleman: though the
+	pennyworth on his side be the worst, yet hold thee,
+	there's some boot.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	I am a poor fellow, sir.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+		   I know ye well enough.
+
+CAMILLO	Nay, prithee, dispatch: the gentleman is half
+	flayed already.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Are you in earnest, sir?
+
+	[Aside]
+
+		   I smell the trick on't.
+
+FLORIZEL	Dispatch, I prithee.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Indeed, I have had earnest: but I cannot with
+	conscience take it.
+
+CAMILLO	Unbuckle, unbuckle.
+
+	[FLORIZEL and AUTOLYCUS exchange garments]
+
+	Fortunate mistress,--let my prophecy
+	Come home to ye!--you must retire yourself
+	Into some covert: take your sweetheart's hat
+	And pluck it o'er your brows, muffle your face,
+	Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken
+	The truth of your own seeming; that you may--
+	For I do fear eyes over--to shipboard
+	Get undescried.
+
+PERDITA	                  I see the play so lies
+	That I must bear a part.
+
+CAMILLO	No remedy.
+	Have you done there?
+
+FLORIZEL	Should I now meet my father,
+	He would not call me son.
+
+CAMILLO	Nay, you shall have no hat.
+
+	[Giving it to PERDITA]
+
+	Come, lady, come. Farewell, my friend.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Adieu, sir.
+
+FLORIZEL	O Perdita, what have we twain forgot!
+	Pray you, a word.
+
+CAMILLO	[Aside]  What I do next, shall be to tell the king
+	Of this escape and whither they are bound;
+	Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail
+	To force him after: in whose company
+	I shall review Sicilia, for whose sight
+	I have a woman's longing.
+
+FLORIZEL	Fortune speed us!
+	Thus we set on, Camillo, to the sea-side.
+
+CAMILLO	The swifter speed the better.
+
+	[Exeunt FLORIZEL, PERDITA, and CAMILLO]
+
+AUTOLYCUS	I understand the business, I hear it: to have an
+	open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is
+	necessary for a cut-purse; a good nose is requisite
+	also, to smell out work for the other senses. I see
+	this is the time that the unjust man doth thrive.
+	What an exchange had this been without boot! What
+	a boot is here with this exchange! Sure the gods do
+	this year connive at us, and we may do any thing
+	extempore. The prince himself is about a piece of
+	iniquity, stealing away from his father with his
+	clog at his heels: if I thought it were a piece of
+	honesty to acquaint the king withal, I would not
+	do't: I hold it the more knavery to conceal it;
+	and therein am I constant to my profession.
+
+	[Re-enter Clown and Shepherd]
+
+	Aside, aside; here is more matter for a hot brain:
+	every lane's end, every shop, church, session,
+	hanging, yields a careful man work.
+
+Clown	See, see; what a man you are now!
+	There is no other way but to tell the king
+	she's a changeling and none of your flesh and blood.
+
+Shepherd	Nay, but hear me.
+
+Clown	Nay, but hear me.
+
+Shepherd	Go to, then.
+
+Clown	She being none of your flesh and blood, your flesh
+	and blood has not offended the king; and so your
+	flesh and blood is not to be punished by him. Show
+	those things you found about her, those secret
+	things, all but what she has with her: this being
+	done, let the law go whistle: I warrant you.
+
+Shepherd	I will tell the king all, every word, yea, and his
+	son's pranks too; who, I may say, is no honest man,
+	neither to his father nor to me, to go about to make
+	me the king's brother-in-law.
+
+Clown	Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest off you
+	could have been to him and then your blood had been
+	the dearer by I know how much an ounce.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	[Aside]  Very wisely, puppies!
+
+Shepherd	Well, let us to the king: there is that in this
+	fardel will make him scratch his beard.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	[Aside]  I know not what impediment this complaint
+	may be to the flight of my master.
+
+Clown	Pray heartily he be at palace.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	[Aside]  Though I am not naturally honest, I am so
+	sometimes by chance: let me pocket up my pedlar's excrement.
+
+	[Takes off his false beard]
+
+	How now, rustics! whither are you bound?
+
+Shepherd	To the palace, an it like your worship.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Your affairs there, what, with whom, the condition
+	of that fardel, the place of your dwelling, your
+	names, your ages, of what having, breeding, and any
+	thing that is fitting to be known, discover.
+
+Clown	We are but plain fellows, sir.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	A lie; you are rough and hairy. Let me have no
+	lying: it becomes none but tradesmen, and they
+	often give us soldiers the lie: but we pay them for
+	it with stamped coin, not stabbing steel; therefore
+	they do not give us the lie.
+
+Clown	Your worship had like to have given us one, if you
+	had not taken yourself with the manner.
+
+Shepherd	Are you a courtier, an't like you, sir?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier. Seest
+	thou not the air of the court in these enfoldings?
+	hath not my gait in it the measure of the court?
+	receives not thy nose court-odor from me? reflect I
+	not on thy baseness court-contempt? Thinkest thou,
+	for that I insinuate, or toaze from thee thy
+	business, I am therefore no courtier? I am courtier
+	cap-a-pe; and one that will either push on or pluck
+	back thy business there: whereupon I command thee to
+	open thy affair.
+
+Shepherd	My business, sir, is to the king.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	What advocate hast thou to him?
+
+Shepherd	I know not, an't like you.
+
+Clown	Advocate's the court-word for a pheasant: say you
+	have none.
+
+Shepherd	None, sir; I have no pheasant, cock nor hen.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	How blessed are we that are not simple men!
+	Yet nature might have made me as these are,
+	Therefore I will not disdain.
+
+Clown	This cannot be but a great courtier.
+
+Shepherd	His garments are rich, but he wears
+	them not handsomely.
+
+Clown	He seems to be the more noble in being fantastical:
+	a great man, I'll warrant; I know by the picking
+	on's teeth.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	The fardel there? what's i' the fardel?
+	Wherefore that box?
+
+Shepherd	Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and box,
+	which none must know but the king; and which he
+	shall know within this hour, if I may come to the
+	speech of him.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Age, thou hast lost thy labour.
+
+Shepherd	Why, sir?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	The king is not at the palace; he is gone aboard a
+	new ship to purge melancholy and air himself: for,
+	if thou beest capable of things serious, thou must
+	know the king is full of grief.
+
+Shepard	So 'tis said, sir; about his son, that should have
+	married a shepherd's daughter.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	If that shepherd be not in hand-fast, let him fly:
+	the curses he shall have, the tortures he shall
+	feel, will break the back of man, the heart of monster.
+
+Clown	Think you so, sir?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Not he alone shall suffer what wit can make heavy
+	and vengeance bitter; but those that are germane to
+	him, though removed fifty times, shall all come
+	under the hangman: which though it be great pity,
+	yet it is necessary. An old sheep-whistling rogue a
+	ram-tender, to offer to have his daughter come into
+	grace! Some say he shall be stoned; but that death
+	is too soft for him, say I	draw our throne into a
+	sheep-cote! all deaths are too few, the sharpest too easy.
+
+Clown	Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you hear. an't
+	like you, sir?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	He has a son, who shall be flayed alive; then
+	'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a
+	wasp's nest; then stand till he be three quarters
+	and a dram dead; then recovered again with
+	aqua-vitae or some other hot infusion; then, raw as
+	he is, and in the hottest day prognostication
+	proclaims, shall be be set against a brick-wall, the
+	sun looking with a southward eye upon him, where he
+	is to behold him with flies blown to death. But what
+	talk we of these traitorly rascals, whose miseries
+	are to be smiled at, their offences being so
+	capital? Tell me, for you seem to be honest plain
+	men, what you have to the king: being something
+	gently considered, I'll bring you where he is
+	aboard, tender your persons to his presence,
+	whisper him in your behalfs; and if it be in man
+	besides the king to effect your suits, here is man
+	shall do it.
+
+Clown	He seems to be of great authority: close with him,
+	give him gold; and though authority be a stubborn
+	bear, yet he is oft led by the nose with gold: show
+	the inside of your purse to the outside of his hand,
+	and no more ado. Remember 'stoned,' and 'flayed alive.'
+
+Shepherd	An't please you, sir, to undertake the business for
+	us, here is that gold I have: I'll make it as much
+	more and leave this young man in pawn till I bring it you.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	After I have done what I promised?
+
+Shepherd	Ay, sir.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Well, give me the moiety. Are you a party in this business?
+
+Clown	In some sort, sir: but though my case be a pitiful
+	one, I hope I shall not be flayed out of it.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	O, that's the case of the shepherd's son: hang him,
+	he'll be made an example.
+
+Clown	Comfort, good comfort! We must to the king and show
+	our strange sights: he must know 'tis none of your
+	daughter nor my sister; we are gone else. Sir, I
+	will give you as much as this old man does when the
+	business is performed, and remain, as he says, your
+	pawn till it be brought you.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	I will trust you. Walk before toward the sea-side;
+	go on the right hand: I will but look upon the
+	hedge and follow you.
+
+Clown	We are blest in this man, as I may say, even blest.
+
+Shepherd	Let's before as he bids us: he was provided to do us good.
+
+	[Exeunt Shepherd and Clown]
+
+AUTOLYCUS	If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune would
+	not suffer me: she drops booties in my mouth. I am
+	courted now with a double occasion, gold and a means
+	to do the prince my master good; which who knows how
+	that may turn back to my advancement? I will bring
+	these two moles, these blind ones, aboard him: if he
+	think it fit to shore them again and that the
+	complaint they have to the king concerns him
+	nothing, let him call me rogue for being so far
+	officious; for I am proof against that title and
+	what shame else belongs to't. To him will I present
+	them: there may be matter in it.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A room in LEONTES' palace.
+
+
+	[Enter LEONTES, CLEOMENES, DION, PAULINA, and Servants]
+
+CLEOMENES	Sir, you have done enough, and have perform'd
+	A saint-like sorrow: no fault could you make,
+	Which you have not redeem'd; indeed, paid down
+	More penitence than done trespass: at the last,
+	Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil;
+	With them forgive yourself.
+
+LEONTES	Whilst I remember
+	Her and her virtues, I cannot forget
+	My blemishes in them, and so still think of
+	The wrong I did myself; which was so much,
+	That heirless it hath made my kingdom and
+	Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man
+	Bred his hopes out of.
+
+PAULINA	True, too true, my lord:
+	If, one by one, you wedded all the world,
+	Or from the all that are took something good,
+	To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd
+	Would be unparallel'd.
+
+LEONTES	I think so. Kill'd!
+	She I kill'd! I did so: but thou strikest me
+	Sorely, to say I did; it is as bitter
+	Upon thy tongue as in my thought: now, good now,
+	Say so but seldom.
+
+CLEOMENES	                  Not at all, good lady:
+	You might have spoken a thousand things that would
+	Have done the time more benefit and graced
+	Your kindness better.
+
+PAULINA	You are one of those
+	Would have him wed again.
+
+DION	If you would not so,
+	You pity not the state, nor the remembrance
+	Of his most sovereign name; consider little
+	What dangers, by his highness' fail of issue,
+	May drop upon his kingdom and devour
+	Incertain lookers on. What were more holy
+	Than to rejoice the former queen is well?
+	What holier than, for royalty's repair,
+	For present comfort and for future good,
+	To bless the bed of majesty again
+	With a sweet fellow to't?
+
+PAULINA	There is none worthy,
+	Respecting her that's gone. Besides, the gods
+	Will have fulfill'd their secret purposes;
+	For has not the divine Apollo said,
+	Is't not the tenor of his oracle,
+	That King Leontes shall not have an heir
+	Till his lost child be found? which that it shall,
+	Is all as monstrous to our human reason
+	As my Antigonus to break his grave
+	And come again to me; who, on my life,
+	Did perish with the infant. 'Tis your counsel
+	My lord should to the heavens be contrary,
+	Oppose against their wills.
+
+	[To LEONTES]
+
+		      Care not for issue;
+	The crown will find an heir: great Alexander
+	Left his to the worthiest; so his successor
+	Was like to be the best.
+
+LEONTES	Good Paulina,
+	Who hast the memory of Hermione,
+	I know, in honour, O, that ever I
+	Had squared me to thy counsel! then, even now,
+	I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes,
+	Have taken treasure from her lips--
+
+PAULINA	And left them
+	More rich for what they yielded.
+
+LEONTES	Thou speak'st truth.
+	No more such wives; therefore, no wife: one worse,
+	And better used, would make her sainted spirit
+	Again possess her corpse, and on this stage,
+	Where we're offenders now, appear soul-vex'd,
+	And begin, 'Why to me?'
+
+PAULINA	Had she such power,
+	She had just cause.
+
+LEONTES	She had; and would incense me
+	To murder her I married.
+
+PAULINA	I should so.
+	Were I the ghost that walk'd, I'ld bid you mark
+	Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in't
+	You chose her; then I'ld shriek, that even your ears
+	Should rift to hear me; and the words that follow'd
+	Should be 'Remember mine.'
+
+LEONTES	Stars, stars,
+	And all eyes else dead coals! Fear thou no wife;
+	I'll have no wife, Paulina.
+
+PAULINA	Will you swear
+	Never to marry but by my free leave?
+
+LEONTES	Never, Paulina; so be blest my spirit!
+
+PAULINA	Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath.
+
+CLEOMENES	You tempt him over-much.
+
+PAULINA	Unless another,
+	As like Hermione as is her picture,
+	Affront his eye.
+
+CLEOMENES	                  Good madam,--
+
+PAULINA	I have done.
+	Yet, if my lord will marry,--if you will, sir,
+	No remedy, but you will,--give me the office
+	To choose you a queen: she shall not be so young
+	As was your former; but she shall be such
+	As, walk'd your first queen's ghost,
+	it should take joy
+	To see her in your arms.
+
+LEONTES	My true Paulina,
+	We shall not marry till thou bid'st us.
+
+PAULINA	That
+	Shall be when your first queen's again in breath;
+	Never till then.
+
+	[Enter a Gentleman]
+
+Gentleman	One that gives out himself Prince Florizel,
+	Son of Polixenes, with his princess, she
+	The fairest I have yet beheld, desires access
+	To your high presence.
+
+LEONTES	What with him? he comes not
+	Like to his father's greatness: his approach,
+	So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us
+	'Tis not a visitation framed, but forced
+	By need and accident. What train?
+
+Gentleman	But few,
+	And those but mean.
+
+LEONTES	His princess, say you, with him?
+
+Gentleman	Ay, the most peerless piece of earth, I think,
+	That e'er the sun shone bright on.
+
+PAULINA	O Hermione,
+	As every present time doth boast itself
+	Above a better gone, so must thy grave
+	Give way to what's seen now! Sir, you yourself
+	Have said and writ so, but your writing now
+	Is colder than that theme, 'She had not been,
+	Nor was not to be equall'd;'--thus your verse
+	Flow'd with her beauty once: 'tis shrewdly ebb'd,
+	To say you have seen a better.
+
+Gentleman	Pardon, madam:
+	The one I have almost forgot,--your pardon,--
+	The other, when she has obtain'd your eye,
+	Will have your tongue too. This is a creature,
+	Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal
+	Of all professors else, make proselytes
+	Of who she but bid follow.
+
+PAULINA	How! not women?
+
+Gentleman	Women will love her, that she is a woman
+	More worth than any man; men, that she is
+	The rarest of all women.
+
+LEONTES	Go, Cleomenes;
+	Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends,
+	Bring them to our embracement. Still, 'tis strange
+
+	[Exeunt CLEOMENES and others]
+
+	He thus should steal upon us.
+
+PAULINA	Had our prince,
+	Jewel of children, seen this hour, he had pair'd
+	Well with this lord: there was not full a month
+	Between their births.
+
+LEONTES	Prithee, no more; cease; thou know'st
+	He dies to me again when talk'd of: sure,
+	When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches
+	Will bring me to consider that which may
+	Unfurnish me of reason. They are come.
+
+	[Re-enter CLEOMENES and others, with FLORIZEL and PERDITA]
+
+	Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince;
+	For she did print your royal father off,
+	Conceiving you: were I but twenty-one,
+	Your father's image is so hit in you,
+	His very air, that I should call you brother,
+	As I did him, and speak of something wildly
+	By us perform'd before. Most dearly welcome!
+	And your fair princess,--goddess!--O, alas!
+	I lost a couple, that 'twixt heaven and earth
+	Might thus have stood begetting wonder as
+	You, gracious couple, do: and then I lost--
+	All mine own folly--the society,
+	Amity too, of your brave father, whom,
+	Though bearing misery, I desire my life
+	Once more to look on him.
+
+FLORIZEL	By his command
+	Have I here touch'd Sicilia and from him
+	Give you all greetings that a king, at friend,
+	Can send his brother: and, but infirmity
+	Which waits upon worn times hath something seized
+	His wish'd ability, he had himself
+	The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his
+	Measured to look upon you; whom he loves--
+	He bade me say so--more than all the sceptres
+	And those that bear them living.
+
+LEONTES	O my brother,
+	Good gentleman! the wrongs I have done thee stir
+	Afresh within me, and these thy offices,
+	So rarely kind, are as interpreters
+	Of my behind-hand slackness. Welcome hither,
+	As is the spring to the earth. And hath he too
+	Exposed this paragon to the fearful usage,
+	At least ungentle, of the dreadful Neptune,
+	To greet a man not worth her pains, much less
+	The adventure of her person?
+
+FLORIZEL	Good my lord,
+	She came from Libya.
+
+LEONTES	Where the warlike Smalus,
+	That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd and loved?
+
+FLORIZEL	Most royal sir, from thence; from him, whose daughter
+	His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her: thence,
+	A prosperous south-wind friendly, we have cross'd,
+	To execute the charge my father gave me
+	For visiting your highness: my best train
+	I have from your Sicilian shores dismiss'd;
+	Who for Bohemia bend, to signify
+	Not only my success in Libya, sir,
+	But my arrival and my wife's in safety
+	Here where we are.
+
+LEONTES	                  The blessed gods
+	Purge all infection from our air whilst you
+	Do climate here! You have a holy father,
+	A graceful gentleman; against whose person,
+	So sacred as it is, I have done sin:
+	For which the heavens, taking angry note,
+	Have left me issueless; and your father's blest,
+	As he from heaven merits it, with you
+	Worthy his goodness. What might I have been,
+	Might I a son and daughter now have look'd on,
+	Such goodly things as you!
+
+	[Enter a Lord]
+
+Lord	Most noble sir,
+	That which I shall report will bear no credit,
+	Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir,
+	Bohemia greets you from himself by me;
+	Desires you to attach his son, who has--
+	His dignity and duty both cast off--
+	Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with
+	A shepherd's daughter.
+
+LEONTES	Where's Bohemia? speak.
+
+Lord	Here in your city; I now came from him:
+	I speak amazedly; and it becomes
+	My marvel and my message. To your court
+	Whiles he was hastening, in the chase, it seems,
+	Of this fair couple, meets he on the way
+	The father of this seeming lady and
+	Her brother, having both their country quitted
+	With this young prince.
+
+FLORIZEL	Camillo has betray'd me;
+	Whose honour and whose honesty till now
+	Endured all weathers.
+
+Lord	Lay't so to his charge:
+	He's with the king your father.
+
+LEONTES	Who? Camillo?
+
+Lord	Camillo, sir; I spake with him; who now
+	Has these poor men in question. Never saw I
+	Wretches so quake: they kneel, they kiss the earth;
+	Forswear themselves as often as they speak:
+	Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them
+	With divers deaths in death.
+
+PERDITA	O my poor father!
+	The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have
+	Our contract celebrated.
+
+LEONTES	You are married?
+
+FLORIZEL	We are not, sir, nor are we like to be;
+	The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first:
+	The odds for high and low's alike.
+
+LEONTES	My lord,
+	Is this the daughter of a king?
+
+FLORIZEL	She is,
+	When once she is my wife.
+
+LEONTES	That 'once' I see by your good father's speed
+	Will come on very slowly. I am sorry,
+	Most sorry, you have broken from his liking
+	Where you were tied in duty, and as sorry
+	Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty,
+	That you might well enjoy her.
+
+FLORIZEL	Dear, look up:
+	Though Fortune, visible an enemy,
+	Should chase us with my father, power no jot
+	Hath she to change our loves. Beseech you, sir,
+	Remember since you owed no more to time
+	Than I do now: with thought of such affections,
+	Step forth mine advocate; at your request
+	My father will grant precious things as trifles.
+
+LEONTES	Would he do so, I'ld beg your precious mistress,
+	Which he counts but a trifle.
+
+PAULINA	Sir, my liege,
+	Your eye hath too much youth in't: not a month
+	'Fore your queen died, she was more worth such gazes
+	Than what you look on now.
+
+LEONTES	I thought of her,
+	Even in these looks I made.
+
+	[To FLORIZEL]
+
+		       But your petition
+	Is yet unanswer'd. I will to your father:
+	Your honour not o'erthrown by your desires,
+	I am friend to them and you: upon which errand
+	I now go toward him; therefore follow me
+	And mark what way I make: come, good my lord.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Before LEONTES' palace.
+
+
+	[Enter AUTOLYCUS and a Gentleman]
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Beseech you, sir, were you present at this relation?
+
+First Gentleman	I was by at the opening of the fardel, heard the old
+	shepherd deliver the manner how he found it:
+	whereupon, after a little amazedness, we were all
+	commanded out of the chamber; only this methought I
+	heard the shepherd say, he found the child.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	I would most gladly know the issue of it.
+
+First Gentleman	I make a broken delivery of the business; but the
+	changes I perceived in the king and Camillo were
+	very notes of admiration: they seemed almost, with
+	staring on one another, to tear the cases of their
+	eyes; there was speech in their dumbness, language
+	in their very gesture; they looked as they had heard
+	of a world ransomed, or one destroyed: a notable
+	passion of wonder appeared in them; but the wisest
+	beholder, that knew no more but seeing, could not
+	say if the importance were joy or sorrow; but in the
+	extremity of the one, it must needs be.
+
+	[Enter another Gentleman]
+
+	Here comes a gentleman that haply knows more.
+	The news, Rogero?
+
+Second Gentleman	Nothing but bonfires: the oracle is fulfilled; the
+	king's daughter is found: such a deal of wonder is
+	broken out within this hour that ballad-makers
+	cannot be able to express it.
+
+	[Enter a third Gentleman]
+
+	Here comes the Lady Paulina's steward: he can
+	deliver you more. How goes it now, sir? this news
+	which is called true is so like an old tale, that
+	the verity of it is in strong suspicion: has the king
+	found his heir?
+
+Third Gentleman	Most true, if ever truth were pregnant by
+	circumstance: that which you hear you'll swear you
+	see, there is such unity in the proofs. The mantle
+	of Queen Hermione's, her jewel about the neck of it,
+	the letters of Antigonus found with it which they
+	know to be his character, the majesty of the
+	creature in resemblance of the mother, the affection
+	of nobleness which nature shows above her breeding,
+	and many other evidences proclaim her with all
+	certainty to be the king's daughter. Did you see
+	the meeting of the two kings?
+
+Second Gentleman	No.
+
+Third Gentleman	Then have you lost a sight, which was to be seen,
+	cannot be spoken of. There might you have beheld one
+	joy crown another, so and in such manner that it
+	seemed sorrow wept to take leave of them, for their
+	joy waded in tears. There was casting up of eyes,
+	holding up of hands, with countenances of such
+	distraction that they were to be known by garment,
+	not by favour. Our king, being ready to leap out of
+	himself for joy of his found daughter, as if that
+	joy were now become a loss, cries 'O, thy mother,
+	thy mother!' then asks Bohemia forgiveness; then
+	embraces his son-in-law; then again worries he his
+	daughter with clipping her; now he thanks the old
+	shepherd, which stands by like a weather-bitten
+	conduit of many kings' reigns. I never heard of such
+	another encounter, which lames report to follow it
+	and undoes description to do it.
+
+Second Gentleman	What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that carried
+	hence the child?
+
+Third Gentleman	Like an old tale still, which will have matter to
+	rehearse, though credit be asleep and not an ear
+	open. He was torn to pieces with a bear: this
+	avouches the shepherd's son; who has not only his
+	innocence, which seems much, to justify him, but a
+	handkerchief and rings of his that Paulina knows.
+
+First Gentleman	What became of his bark and his followers?
+
+Third Gentleman	Wrecked the same instant of their master's death and
+	in the view of the shepherd: so that all the
+	instruments which aided to expose the child were
+	even then lost when it was found. But O, the noble
+	combat that 'twixt joy and sorrow was fought in
+	Paulina! She had one eye declined for the loss of
+	her husband, another elevated that the oracle was
+	fulfilled: she lifted the princess from the earth,
+	and so locks her in embracing, as if she would pin
+	her to her heart that she might no more be in danger
+	of losing.
+
+First Gentleman	The dignity of this act was worth the audience of
+	kings and princes; for by such was it acted.
+
+Third Gentleman	One of the prettiest touches of all and that which
+	angled for mine eyes, caught the water though not
+	the fish, was when, at the relation of the queen's
+	death, with the manner how she came to't bravely
+	confessed and lamented by the king, how
+	attentiveness wounded his daughter; till, from one
+	sign of dolour to another, she did, with an 'Alas,'
+	I would fain say, bleed tears, for I am sure my
+	heart wept blood. Who was most marble there changed
+	colour; some swooned, all sorrowed: if all the world
+	could have seen 't, the woe had been universal.
+
+First Gentleman	Are they returned to the court?
+
+Third Gentleman	No: the princess hearing of her mother's statue,
+	which is in the keeping of Paulina,--a piece many
+	years in doing and now newly performed by that rare
+	Italian master, Julio Romano, who, had he himself
+	eternity and could put breath into his work, would
+	beguile Nature of her custom, so perfectly he is her
+	ape: he so near to Hermione hath done Hermione that
+	they say one would speak to her and stand in hope of
+	answer: thither with all greediness of affection
+	are they gone, and there they intend to sup.
+
+Second Gentleman	I thought she had some great matter there in hand;
+	for she hath privately twice or thrice a day, ever
+	since the death of Hermione, visited that removed
+	house. Shall we thither and with our company piece
+	the rejoicing?
+
+First Gentleman	Who would be thence that has the benefit of access?
+	every wink of an eye some new grace will be born:
+	our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge.
+	Let's along.
+
+	[Exeunt Gentlemen]
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Now, had I not the dash of my former life in me,
+	would preferment drop on my head. I brought the old
+	man and his son aboard the prince: told him I heard
+	them talk of a fardel and I know not what: but he
+	at that time, overfond of the shepherd's daughter,
+	so he then took her to be, who began to be much
+	sea-sick, and himself little better, extremity of
+	weather continuing, this mystery remained
+	undiscovered. But 'tis all one to me; for had I
+	been the finder out of this secret, it would not
+	have relished among my other discredits.
+
+	[Enter Shepherd and Clown]
+
+	Here come those I have done good to against my will,
+	and already appearing in the blossoms of their fortune.
+
+Shepherd	Come, boy; I am past moe children, but thy sons and
+	daughters will be all gentlemen born.
+
+Clown	You are well met, sir. You denied to fight with me
+	this other day, because I was no gentleman born.
+	See you these clothes? say you see them not and
+	think me still no gentleman born: you were best say
+	these robes are not gentlemen born: give me the
+	lie, do, and try whether I am not now a gentleman born.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born.
+
+Clown	Ay, and have been so any time these four hours.
+
+Shepherd	And so have I, boy.
+
+Clown	So you have: but I was a gentleman born before my
+	father; for the king's son took me by the hand, and
+	called me brother; and then the two kings called my
+	father brother; and then the prince my brother and
+	the princess my sister called my father father; and
+	so we wept, and there was the first gentleman-like
+	tears that ever we shed.
+
+Shepherd	We may live, son, to shed many more.
+
+Clown	Ay; or else 'twere hard luck, being in so
+	preposterous estate as we are.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all the
+	faults I have committed to your worship and to give
+	me your good report to the prince my master.
+
+Shepherd	Prithee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we are
+	gentlemen.
+
+Clown	Thou wilt amend thy life?
+
+AUTOLYCUS	Ay, an it like your good worship.
+
+Clown	Give me thy hand: I will swear to the prince thou
+	art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia.
+
+Shepherd	You may say it, but not swear it.
+
+Clown	Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? Let boors and
+	franklins say it, I'll swear it.
+
+Shepherd	How if it be false, son?
+
+Clown	If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may swear
+	it in the behalf of his friend: and I'll swear to
+	the prince thou art a tall fellow of thy hands and
+	that thou wilt not be drunk; but I know thou art no
+	tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt be
+	drunk: but I'll swear it, and I would thou wouldst
+	be a tall fellow of thy hands.
+
+AUTOLYCUS	I will prove so, sir, to my power.
+
+Clown	Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow: if I do not
+	wonder how thou darest venture to be drunk, not
+	being a tall fellow, trust me not. Hark! the kings
+	and the princes, our kindred, are going to see the
+	queen's picture. Come, follow us: we'll be thy
+	good masters.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	THE WINTER'S TALE
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A chapel in PAULINA'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, FLORIZEL, PERDITA,
+	CAMILLO, PAULINA, Lords, and Attendants]
+
+LEONTES	O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort
+	That I have had of thee!
+
+PAULINA	What, sovereign sir,
+	I did not well I meant well. All my services
+	You have paid home: but that you have vouchsafed,
+	With your crown'd brother and these your contracted
+	Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit,
+	It is a surplus of your grace, which never
+	My life may last to answer.
+
+LEONTES	O Paulina,
+	We honour you with trouble: but we came
+	To see the statue of our queen: your gallery
+	Have we pass'd through, not without much content
+	In many singularities; but we saw not
+	That which my daughter came to look upon,
+	The statue of her mother.
+
+PAULINA	As she lived peerless,
+	So her dead likeness, I do well believe,
+	Excels whatever yet you look'd upon
+	Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it
+	Lonely, apart. But here it is: prepare
+	To see the life as lively mock'd as ever
+	Still sleep mock'd death: behold, and say 'tis well.
+
+	[PAULINA draws a curtain, and discovers HERMIONE
+	standing like a statue]
+
+	I like your silence, it the more shows off
+	Your wonder: but yet speak; first, you, my liege,
+	Comes it not something near?
+
+LEONTES	Her natural posture!
+	Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed
+	Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art she
+	In thy not chiding, for she was as tender
+	As infancy and grace. But yet, Paulina,
+	Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing
+	So aged as this seems.
+
+POLIXENES	O, not by much.
+
+PAULINA	So much the more our carver's excellence;
+	Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her
+	As she lived now.
+
+LEONTES	                  As now she might have done,
+	So much to my good comfort, as it is
+	Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood,
+	Even with such life of majesty, warm life,
+	As now it coldly stands, when first I woo'd her!
+	I am ashamed: does not the stone rebuke me
+	For being more stone than it? O royal piece,
+	There's magic in thy majesty, which has
+	My evils conjured to remembrance and
+	From thy admiring daughter took the spirits,
+	Standing like stone with thee.
+
+PERDITA	And give me leave,
+	And do not say 'tis superstition, that
+	I kneel and then implore her blessing. Lady,
+	Dear queen, that ended when I but began,
+	Give me that hand of yours to kiss.
+
+PAULINA	O, patience!
+	The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour's Not dry.
+
+CAMILLO	My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on,
+	Which sixteen winters cannot blow away,
+	So many summers dry; scarce any joy
+	Did ever so long live; no sorrow
+	But kill'd itself much sooner.
+
+POLIXENES	Dear my brother,
+	Let him that was the cause of this have power
+	To take off so much grief from you as he
+	Will piece up in himself.
+
+PAULINA	Indeed, my lord,
+	If I had thought the sight of my poor image
+	Would thus have wrought you,--for the stone is mine--
+	I'ld not have show'd it.
+
+LEONTES	Do not draw the curtain.
+
+PAULINA	No longer shall you gaze on't, lest your fancy
+	May think anon it moves.
+
+LEONTES	Let be, let be.
+	Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already--
+	What was he that did make it? See, my lord,
+	Would you not deem it breathed? and that those veins
+	Did verily bear blood?
+
+POLIXENES	Masterly done:
+	The very life seems warm upon her lip.
+
+LEONTES	The fixture of her eye has motion in't,
+	As we are mock'd with art.
+
+PAULINA	I'll draw the curtain:
+	My lord's almost so far transported that
+	He'll think anon it lives.
+
+LEONTES	O sweet Paulina,
+	Make me to think so twenty years together!
+	No settled senses of the world can match
+	The pleasure of that madness. Let 't alone.
+
+PAULINA	I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr'd you: but
+	I could afflict you farther.
+
+LEONTES	Do, Paulina;
+	For this affliction has a taste as sweet
+	As any cordial comfort. Still, methinks,
+	There is an air comes from her: what fine chisel
+	Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me,
+	For I will kiss her.
+
+PAULINA	Good my lord, forbear:
+	The ruddiness upon her lip is wet;
+	You'll mar it if you kiss it, stain your own
+	With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?
+
+LEONTES	No, not these twenty years.
+
+PERDITA	So long could I
+	Stand by, a looker on.
+
+PAULINA	Either forbear,
+	Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you
+	For more amazement. If you can behold it,
+	I'll make the statue move indeed, descend
+	And take you by the hand; but then you'll think--
+	Which I protest against--I am assisted
+	By wicked powers.
+
+LEONTES	                  What you can make her do,
+	I am content to look on: what to speak,
+	I am content to hear; for 'tis as easy
+	To make her speak as move.
+
+PAULINA	It is required
+	You do awake your faith. Then all stand still;
+	On: those that think it is unlawful business
+	I am about, let them depart.
+
+LEONTES	Proceed:
+	No foot shall stir.
+
+PAULINA	Music, awake her; strike!
+
+	[Music]
+
+	'Tis time; descend; be stone no more; approach;
+	Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come,
+	I'll fill your grave up: stir, nay, come away,
+	Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him
+	Dear life redeems you. You perceive she stirs:
+
+	[HERMIONE comes down]
+
+	Start not; her actions shall be holy as
+	You hear my spell is lawful: do not shun her
+	Until you see her die again; for then
+	You kill her double. Nay, present your hand:
+	When she was young you woo'd her; now in age
+	Is she become the suitor?
+
+LEONTES	O, she's warm!
+	If this be magic, let it be an art
+	Lawful as eating.
+
+POLIXENES	                  She embraces him.
+
+CAMILLO	She hangs about his neck:
+	If she pertain to life let her speak too.
+
+POLIXENES	Ay, and make't manifest where she has lived,
+	Or how stolen from the dead.
+
+PAULINA	That she is living,
+	Were it but told you, should be hooted at
+	Like an old tale: but it appears she lives,
+	Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while.
+	Please you to interpose, fair madam: kneel
+	And pray your mother's blessing. Turn, good lady;
+	Our Perdita is found.
+
+HERMIONE	You gods, look down
+	And from your sacred vials pour your graces
+	Upon my daughter's head! Tell me, mine own.
+	Where hast thou been preserved? where lived? how found
+	Thy father's court? for thou shalt hear that I,
+	Knowing by Paulina that the oracle
+	Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserved
+	Myself to see the issue.
+
+PAULINA	There's time enough for that;
+	Lest they desire upon this push to trouble
+	Your joys with like relation. Go together,
+	You precious winners all; your exultation
+	Partake to every one. I, an old turtle,
+	Will wing me to some wither'd bough and there
+	My mate, that's never to be found again,
+	Lament till I am lost.
+
+LEONTES	O, peace, Paulina!
+	Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent,
+	As I by thine a wife: this is a match,
+	And made between's by vows. Thou hast found mine;
+	But how, is to be question'd; for I saw her,
+	As I thought, dead, and have in vain said many
+	A prayer upon her grave. I'll not seek far--
+	For him, I partly know his mind--to find thee
+	An honourable husband. Come, Camillo,
+	And take her by the hand, whose worth and honesty
+	Is richly noted and here justified
+	By us, a pair of kings. Let's from this place.
+	What! look upon my brother: both your pardons,
+	That e'er I put between your holy looks
+	My ill suspicion. This is your son-in-law,
+	And son unto the king, who, heavens directing,
+	Is troth-plight to your daughter. Good Paulina,
+	Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely
+	Each one demand an answer to his part
+	Perform'd in this wide gap of time since first
+	We were dissever'd: hastily lead away.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+KING HENRY	the Fourth. (KING HENRY IV:)
+
+
+HENRY,
+Prince of Wales	(PRINCE HENRY:)	|
+		| sons of the King
+JOHN of Lancaster	(LANCASTER:)	|
+
+
+WESTMORELAND:
+
+SIR WALTER BLUNT:
+
+THOMAS PERCY	Earl of Worcester. (EARL OF WORCESTER:)
+
+HENRY PERCY	Earl of Northumberland. (NORTHUMBERLAND:)
+
+HENRY PERCY	surnamed HOTSPUR, his son. (HOTSPUR:)
+
+EDMUND MORTIMER	Earl of March. (MORTIMER:)
+
+RICHARD SCROOP	Archbishop of York. (ARCHBISHOP OF YORK:)
+
+ARCHIBALD	Earl of Douglas. (DOUGLAS:)
+
+OWEN GLENDOWER:
+
+SIR RICHARD VERNON	(VERNON:)
+
+SIR JOHN FALSTAFF	(FALSTAFF:)
+
+SIR MICHAEL	a friend to the Archbishop of York.
+
+POINS:
+
+GADSHILL:
+
+PETO:
+
+BARDOLPH:
+
+FRANCIS	a waiter.
+
+LADY PERCY	wife to Hotspur, and sister to Mortimer.
+
+LADY MORTIMER	daughter to Glendower,
+	and wife to Mortimer.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	hostess of a tavern in Eastcheap. (Hostess:)
+
+	Lords, Officers, Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain,
+	Drawers, two Carriers, Travellers, Attendants,
+	and an Ostler.
+	(Sheriff:)
+	(Vintner:)
+	(Chamberlain:)
+	(First Carrier:)
+	(Second Carrier:)
+	(First Traveller:)
+	(Servant:)
+	(Messenger:)
+	(Ostler:)
+
+
+
+SCENE	England.
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, the EARL
+	of WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others]
+
+KING HENRY IV	So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
+	Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,
+	And breathe short-winded accents of new broils
+	To be commenced in strands afar remote.
+	No more the thirsty entrance of this soil
+	Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood;
+	Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields,
+	Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs
+	Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes,
+	Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
+	All of one nature, of one substance bred,
+	Did lately meet in the intestine shock
+	And furious close of civil butchery
+	Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks,
+	March all one way and be no more opposed
+	Against acquaintance, kindred and allies:
+	The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife,
+	No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends,
+	As far as to the sepulchre of Christ,
+	Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross
+	We are impressed and engaged to fight,
+	Forthwith a power of English shall we levy;
+	Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb
+	To chase these pagans in those holy fields
+	Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet
+	Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd
+	For our advantage on the bitter cross.
+	But this our purpose now is twelve month old,
+	And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go:
+	Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear
+	Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,
+	What yesternight our council did decree
+	In forwarding this dear expedience.
+
+WESTMORELAND	My liege, this haste was hot in question,
+	And many limits of the charge set down
+	But yesternight: when all athwart there came
+	A post from Wales loaden with heavy news;
+	Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer,
+	Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
+	Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
+	Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
+	A thousand of his people butchered;
+	Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse,
+	Such beastly shameless transformation,
+	By those Welshwomen done as may not be
+	Without much shame retold or spoken of.
+
+KING HENRY IV	It seems then that the tidings of this broil
+	Brake off our business for the Holy Land.
+
+WESTMORELAND	This match'd with other did, my gracious lord;
+	For more uneven and unwelcome news
+	Came from the north and thus it did import:
+	On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,
+	Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald,
+	That ever-valiant and approved Scot,
+	At Holmedon met,
+	Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour,
+	As by discharge of their artillery,
+	And shape of likelihood, the news was told;
+	For he that brought them, in the very heat
+	And pride of their contention did take horse,
+	Uncertain of the issue any way.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Here is a dear, a true industrious friend,
+	Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse.
+	Stain'd with the variation of each soil
+	Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours;
+	And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news.
+	The Earl of Douglas is discomfited:
+	Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights,
+	Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see
+	On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took
+	Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son
+	To beaten Douglas; and the Earl of Athol,
+	Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith:
+	And is not this an honourable spoil?
+	A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not?
+
+WESTMORELAND	In faith,
+	It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin
+	In envy that my Lord Northumberland
+	Should be the father to so blest a son,
+	A son who is the theme of honour's tongue;
+	Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant;
+	Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride:
+	Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,
+	See riot and dishonour stain the brow
+	Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved
+	That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged
+	In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,
+	And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet!
+	Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
+	But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz,
+	Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners,
+	Which he in this adventure hath surprised,
+	To his own use he keeps; and sends me word,
+	I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife.
+
+WESTMORELAND	This is his uncle's teaching; this is Worcester,
+	Malevolent to you in all aspects;
+	Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up
+	The crest of youth against your dignity.
+
+KING HENRY IV	But I have sent for him to answer this;
+	And for this cause awhile we must neglect
+	Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.
+	Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
+	Will hold at Windsor; so inform the lords:
+	But come yourself with speed to us again;
+	For more is to be said and to be done
+	Than out of anger can be uttered.
+
+WESTMORELAND	I will, my liege.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	London. An apartment of the Prince's.
+
+
+	[Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF]
+
+FALSTAFF	Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack
+	and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon
+	benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to
+	demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know.
+	What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the
+	day? Unless hours were cups of sack and minutes
+	capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and dials the
+	signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself
+	a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no
+	reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand
+	the time of the day.
+
+FALSTAFF	Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take
+	purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not
+	by Phoebus, he,'that wandering knight so fair.' And,
+	I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God
+	save thy grace,--majesty I should say, for grace
+	thou wilt have none,--
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What, none?
+
+FALSTAFF	No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to
+	prologue to an egg and butter.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly.
+
+FALSTAFF	Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not
+	us that are squires of the night's body be called
+	thieves of the day's beauty: let us be Diana's
+	foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the
+	moon; and let men say we be men of good government,
+	being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and
+	chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the
+	fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and
+	flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is,
+	by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold
+	most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most
+	dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with
+	swearing 'Lay by' and spent with crying 'Bring in;'
+	now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder
+	and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.
+
+FALSTAFF	By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my
+	hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And
+	is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?
+
+FALSTAFF	How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and
+	thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a
+	buff jerkin?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a
+	time and oft.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?
+
+FALSTAFF	No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch;
+	and where it would not, I have used my credit.
+
+FALSTAFF	Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent
+	that thou art heir apparent--But, I prithee, sweet
+	wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when
+	thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is
+	with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do
+	not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	No; thou shalt.
+
+FALSTAFF	Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have
+	the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman.
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my
+	humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell
+	you.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	For obtaining of suits?
+
+FALSTAFF	Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman
+	hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy
+	as a gib cat or a lugged bear.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Or an old lion, or a lover's lute.
+
+FALSTAFF	Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of
+	Moor-ditch?
+
+FALSTAFF	Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed
+	the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young
+	prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more
+	with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a
+	commodity of good names were to be bought. An old
+	lord of the council rated me the other day in the
+	street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet
+	he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and
+	yet he talked wisely, and in the street too.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the
+	streets, and no man regards it.
+
+FALSTAFF	O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able
+	to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon
+	me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew
+	thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man
+	should speak truly, little better than one of the
+	wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give
+	it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain:
+	I'll be damned for never a king's son in
+	Christendom.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack?
+
+FALSTAFF	'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I
+	do not, call me villain and baffle me.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying
+	to purse-taking.
+
+FALSTAFF	Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a
+	man to labour in his vocation.
+
+	[Enter POINS]
+
+	Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a
+	match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what
+	hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the
+	most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand' to
+	a true man.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Good morrow, Ned.
+
+POINS	Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse?
+	what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how
+	agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou
+	soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira
+	and a cold capon's leg?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have
+	his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of
+	proverbs: he will give the devil his due.
+
+POINS	Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Else he had been damned for cozening the devil.
+
+POINS	But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four
+	o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going
+	to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders
+	riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards
+	for you all; you have horses for yourselves:
+	Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke
+	supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it
+	as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff
+	your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry
+	at home and be hanged.
+
+FALSTAFF	Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not,
+	I'll hang you for going.
+
+POINS	You will, chops?
+
+FALSTAFF	Hal, wilt thou make one?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith.
+
+FALSTAFF	There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good
+	fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood
+	royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap.
+
+FALSTAFF	Why, that's well said.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home.
+
+FALSTAFF	By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I care not.
+
+POINS	Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone:
+	I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure
+	that he shall go.
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him
+	the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may
+	move and what he hears may be believed, that the
+	true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false
+	thief; for the poor abuses of the time want
+	countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer!
+
+	[Exit Falstaff]
+
+POINS	Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us
+	to-morrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot
+	manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill
+	shall rob those men that we have already waylaid:
+	yourself and I will not be there; and when they
+	have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut
+	this head off from my shoulders.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	How shall we part with them in setting forth?
+
+POINS	Why, we will set forth before or after them, and
+	appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at
+	our pleasure to fail, and then will they adventure
+	upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have
+	no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our
+	horses, by our habits and by every other
+	appointment, to be ourselves.
+
+POINS	Tut! our horses they shall not see: I'll tie them
+	in the wood; our vizards we will change after we
+	leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram
+	for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us.
+
+POINS	Well, for two of them, I know them to be as
+	true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the
+	third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll
+	forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the
+	incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will
+	tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at
+	least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what
+	extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this
+	lies the jest.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things
+	necessary and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap;
+	there I'll sup. Farewell.
+
+POINS	Farewell, my lord.
+
+	[Exit Poins]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I know you all, and will awhile uphold
+	The unyoked humour of your idleness:
+	Yet herein will I imitate the sun,
+	Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
+	To smother up his beauty from the world,
+	That, when he please again to be himself,
+	Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at,
+	By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
+	Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.
+	If all the year were playing holidays,
+	To sport would be as tedious as to work;
+	But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come,
+	And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
+	So, when this loose behavior I throw off
+	And pay the debt I never promised,
+	By how much better than my word I am,
+	By so much shall I falsify men's hopes;
+	And like bright metal on a sullen ground,
+	My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,
+	Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
+	Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
+	I'll so offend, to make offence a skill;
+	Redeeming time when men think least I will.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR,
+	SIR WALTER BLUNT, with others]
+
+KING HENRY IV	My blood hath been too cold and temperate,
+	Unapt to stir at these indignities,
+	And you have found me; for accordingly
+	You tread upon my patience: but be sure
+	I will from henceforth rather be myself,
+	Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition;
+	Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,
+	And therefore lost that title of respect
+	Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves
+	The scourge of greatness to be used on it;
+	And that same greatness too which our own hands
+	Have holp to make so portly.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	My lord.--
+
+KING HENRY IV	Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see
+	Danger and disobedience in thine eye:
+	O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory,
+	And majesty might never yet endure
+	The moody frontier of a servant brow.
+	You have good leave to leave us: when we need
+	Your use and counsel, we shall send for you.
+
+	[Exit Worcester]
+
+	You were about to speak.
+
+	[To North]
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Yea, my good lord.
+	Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded,
+	Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,
+	Were, as he says, not with such strength denied
+	As is deliver'd to your majesty:
+	Either envy, therefore, or misprison
+	Is guilty of this fault and not my son.
+
+HOTSPUR	My liege, I did deny no prisoners.
+	But I remember, when the fight was done,
+	When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,
+	Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
+	Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd,
+	Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd
+	Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home;
+	He was perfumed like a milliner;
+	And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
+	A pouncet-box, which ever and anon
+	He gave his nose and took't away again;
+	Who therewith angry, when it next came there,
+	Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talk'd,
+	And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
+	He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly,
+	To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
+	Betwixt the wind and his nobility.
+	With many holiday and lady terms
+	He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded
+	My prisoners in your majesty's behalf.
+	I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,
+	To be so pester'd with a popinjay,
+	Out of my grief and my impatience,
+	Answer'd neglectingly I know not what,
+	He should or he should not; for he made me mad
+	To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet
+	And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman
+	Of guns and drums and wounds,--God save the mark!--
+	And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth
+	Was parmaceti for an inward bruise;
+	And that it was great pity, so it was,
+	This villanous salt-petre should be digg'd
+	Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
+	Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd
+	So cowardly; and but for these vile guns,
+	He would himself have been a soldier.
+	This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,
+	I answer'd indirectly, as I said;
+	And I beseech you, let not his report
+	Come current for an accusation
+	Betwixt my love and your high majesty.
+
+SIR WALTER BLUNT	The circumstance consider'd, good my lord,
+	Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said
+	To such a person and in such a place,
+	At such a time, with all the rest retold,
+	May reasonably die and never rise
+	To do him wrong or any way impeach
+	What then he said, so he unsay it now.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners,
+	But with proviso and exception,
+	That we at our own charge shall ransom straight
+	His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer;
+	Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd
+	The lives of those that he did lead to fight
+	Against that great magician, damn'd Glendower,
+	Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March
+	Hath lately married. Shall our coffers, then,
+	Be emptied to redeem a traitor home?
+	Shall we but treason? and indent with fears,
+	When they have lost and forfeited themselves?
+	No, on the barren mountains let him starve;
+	For I shall never hold that man my friend
+	Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost
+	To ransom home revolted Mortimer.
+
+HOTSPUR	Revolted Mortimer!
+	He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,
+	But by the chance of war; to prove that true
+	Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds,
+	Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took
+	When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank,
+	In single opposition, hand to hand,
+	He did confound the best part of an hour
+	In changing hardiment with great Glendower:
+	Three times they breathed and three times did
+	they drink,
+	Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood;
+	Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,
+	Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds,
+	And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank,
+	Bloodstained with these valiant combatants.
+	Never did base and rotten policy
+	Colour her working with such deadly wounds;
+	Nor could the noble Mortimer
+	Receive so many, and all willingly:
+	Then let not him be slander'd with revolt.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him;
+	He never did encounter with Glendower:
+	I tell thee,
+	He durst as well have met the devil alone
+	As Owen Glendower for an enemy.
+	Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth
+	Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer:
+	Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,
+	Or you shall hear in such a kind from me
+	As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland,
+	We licence your departure with your son.
+	Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it.
+
+	[Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train]
+
+HOTSPUR	An if the devil come and roar for them,
+	I will not send them: I will after straight
+	And tell him so; for I will ease my heart,
+	Albeit I make a hazard of my head.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile:
+	Here comes your uncle.
+
+	[Re-enter WORCESTER]
+
+HOTSPUR	Speak of Mortimer!
+	'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul
+	Want mercy, if I do not join with him:
+	Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins,
+	And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust,
+	But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer
+	As high in the air as this unthankful king,
+	As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	Who struck this heat up after I was gone?
+
+HOTSPUR	He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners;
+	And when I urged the ransom once again
+	Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale,
+	And on my face he turn'd an eye of death,
+	Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	I cannot blame him: was not he proclaim'd
+	By Richard that dead is the next of blood?
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	He was; I heard the proclamation:
+	And then it was when the unhappy king,
+	--Whose wrongs in us God pardon!--did set forth
+	Upon his Irish expedition;
+	From whence he intercepted did return
+	To be deposed and shortly murdered.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth
+	Live scandalized and foully spoken of.
+
+HOTSPUR	But soft, I pray you; did King Richard then
+	Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer
+	Heir to the crown?
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	He did; myself did hear it.
+
+HOTSPUR	Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king,
+	That wished him on the barren mountains starve.
+	But shall it be that you, that set the crown
+	Upon the head of this forgetful man
+	And for his sake wear the detested blot
+	Of murderous subornation, shall it be,
+	That you a world of curses undergo,
+	Being the agents, or base second means,
+	The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?
+	O, pardon me that I descend so low,
+	To show the line and the predicament
+	Wherein you range under this subtle king;
+	Shall it for shame be spoken in these days,
+	Or fill up chronicles in time to come,
+	That men of your nobility and power
+	Did gage them both in an unjust behalf,
+	As both of you--God pardon it!--have done,
+	To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,
+	An plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke?
+	And shall it in more shame be further spoken,
+	That you are fool'd, discarded and shook off
+	By him for whom these shames ye underwent?
+	No; yet time serves wherein you may redeem
+	Your banish'd honours and restore yourselves
+	Into the good thoughts of the world again,
+	Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contempt
+	Of this proud king, who studies day and night
+	To answer all the debt he owes to you
+	Even with the bloody payment of your deaths:
+	Therefore, I say--
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	                  Peace, cousin, say no more:
+	And now I will unclasp a secret book,
+	And to your quick-conceiving discontents
+	I'll read you matter deep and dangerous,
+	As full of peril and adventurous spirit
+	As to o'er-walk a current roaring loud
+	On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.
+
+HOTSPUR	If he fall in, good night! or sink or swim:
+	Send danger from the east unto the west,
+	So honour cross it from the north to south,
+	And let them grapple: O, the blood more stirs
+	To rouse a lion than to start a hare!
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Imagination of some great exploit
+	Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.
+
+HOTSPUR	By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap,
+	To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon,
+	Or dive into the bottom of the deep,
+	Where fathom-line could never touch the ground,
+	And pluck up drowned honour by the locks;
+	So he that doth redeem her thence might wear
+	Without corrival, all her dignities:
+	But out upon this half-faced fellowship!
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	He apprehends a world of figures here,
+	But not the form of what he should attend.
+	Good cousin, give me audience for a while.
+
+HOTSPUR	I cry you mercy.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	                  Those same noble Scots
+	That are your prisoners,--
+
+HOTSPUR	I'll keep them all;
+	By God, he shall not have a Scot of them;
+	No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not:
+	I'll keep them, by this hand.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	You start away
+	And lend no ear unto my purposes.
+	Those prisoners you shall keep.
+
+HOTSPUR	Nay, I will; that's flat:
+	He said he would not ransom Mortimer;
+	Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer;
+	But I will find him when he lies asleep,
+	And in his ear I'll holla 'Mortimer!'
+	Nay,
+	I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak
+	Nothing but 'Mortimer,' and give it him
+	To keep his anger still in motion.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	Hear you, cousin; a word.
+
+HOTSPUR	All studies here I solemnly defy,
+	Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke:
+	And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales,
+	But that I think his father loves him not
+	And would be glad he met with some mischance,
+	I would have him poison'd with a pot of ale.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	Farewell, kinsman: I'll talk to you
+	When you are better temper'd to attend.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool
+	Art thou to break into this woman's mood,
+	Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!
+
+HOTSPUR	Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourged with rods,
+	Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear
+	Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
+	In Richard's time,--what do you call the place?--
+	A plague upon it, it is in Gloucestershire;
+	'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept,
+	His uncle York; where I first bow'd my knee
+	Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,--
+	'Sblood!--
+	When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	At Berkley castle.
+
+HOTSPUR	You say true:
+	Why, what a candy deal of courtesy
+	This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!
+	Look,'when his infant fortune came to age,'
+	And 'gentle Harry Percy,' and 'kind cousin;'
+	O, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me!
+	Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	Nay, if you have not, to it again;
+	We will stay your leisure.
+
+HOTSPUR	I have done, i' faith.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.
+	Deliver them up without their ransom straight,
+	And make the Douglas' son your only mean
+	For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons
+	Which I shall send you written, be assured,
+	Will easily be granted. You, my lord,
+
+	[To Northumberland]
+
+	Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd,
+	Shall secretly into the bosom creep
+	Of that same noble prelate, well beloved,
+	The archbishop.
+
+HOTSPUR	Of York, is it not?
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	True; who bears hard
+	His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop.
+	I speak not this in estimation,
+	As what I think might be, but what I know
+	Is ruminated, plotted and set down,
+	And only stays but to behold the face
+	Of that occasion that shall bring it on.
+
+HOTSPUR	I smell it: upon my life, it will do well.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Before the game is afoot, thou still let'st slip.
+
+HOTSPUR	Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot;
+	And then the power of Scotland and of York,
+	To join with Mortimer, ha?
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	And so they shall.
+
+HOTSPUR	In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	And 'tis no little reason bids us speed,
+	To save our heads by raising of a head;
+	For, bear ourselves as even as we can,
+	The king will always think him in our debt,
+	And think we think ourselves unsatisfied,
+	Till he hath found a time to pay us home:
+	And see already how he doth begin
+	To make us strangers to his looks of love.
+
+HOTSPUR	He does, he does: we'll be revenged on him.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	Cousin, farewell: no further go in this
+	Than I by letters shall direct your course.
+	When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,
+	I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer;
+	Where you and Douglas and our powers at once,
+	As I will fashion it, shall happily meet,
+	To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
+	Which now we hold at much uncertainty.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust.
+
+HOTSPUR	Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short
+	Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rochester. An inn yard.
+
+
+	[Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand]
+
+First Carrier	Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I'll be
+	hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and
+	yet our horse not packed. What, ostler!
+
+Ostler	[Within]   Anon, anon.
+
+First Carrier	I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks
+	in the point; poor jade, is wrung in the withers out
+	of all cess.
+
+	[Enter another Carrier]
+
+Second Carrier	Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that
+	is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this
+	house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died.
+
+First Carrier	Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats
+	rose; it was the death of him.
+
+Second Carrier	I think this be the most villanous house in all
+	London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench.
+
+First Carrier	Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne'er a king
+	christen could be better bit than I have been since
+	the first cock.
+
+Second Carrier	Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we
+	leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds
+	fleas like a loach.
+
+First Carrier	What, ostler! come away and be hanged!
+
+Second Carrier	I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger,
+	to be delivered as far as Charing-cross.
+
+First Carrier	God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite
+	starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou
+	never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An
+	'twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate
+	on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged!
+	hast thou no faith in thee?
+
+	[Enter GADSHILL]
+
+GADSHILL	Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock?
+
+First Carrier	I think it be two o'clock.
+
+GADSHILL	I pray thee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding
+	in the stable.
+
+First Carrier	Nay, by God, soft; I know a trick worth two of that, i' faith.
+
+GADSHILL	I pray thee, lend me thine.
+
+Second Carrier	Ay, when? can'st tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth
+	he? marry, I'll see thee hanged first.
+
+GADSHILL	Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London?
+
+Second Carrier	Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant
+	thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the
+	gentleman: they will along with company, for they
+	have great charge.
+
+	[Exeunt carriers]
+
+GADSHILL	What, ho! chamberlain!
+
+Chamberlain	[Within]  At hand, quoth pick-purse.
+
+GADSHILL	That's even as fair as--at hand, quoth the
+	chamberlain; for thou variest no more from picking
+	of purses than giving direction doth from labouring;
+	thou layest the plot how.
+
+	[Enter Chamberlain]
+
+Chamberlain	Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that
+	I told you yesternight: there's a franklin in the
+	wild of Kent hath brought three hundred marks with
+	him in gold: I heard him tell it to one of his
+	company last night at supper; a kind of auditor; one
+	that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what.
+	They are up already, and call for eggs and butter;
+	they will away presently.
+
+GADSHILL	Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas'
+	clerks, I'll give thee this neck.
+
+Chamberlain	No, I'll none of it: I pray thee keep that for the
+	hangman; for I know thou worshippest St. Nicholas
+	as truly as a man of falsehood may.
+
+GADSHILL	What talkest thou to me of the hangman? if I hang,
+	I'll make a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old
+	Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is no
+	starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou
+	dreamest not of, the which for sport sake are
+	content to do the profession some grace; that would,
+	if matters should be looked into, for their own
+	credit sake, make all whole. I am joined with no
+	foot-land rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers,
+	none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms;
+	but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and
+	great oneyers, such as can hold in, such as will
+	strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than
+	drink, and drink sooner than pray: and yet, zounds,
+	I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the
+	commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey
+	on her, for they ride up and down on her and make
+	her their boots.
+
+Chamberlain	What, the commonwealth their boots? will she hold
+	out water in foul way?
+
+GADSHILL	She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We
+	steal as in a castle, cocksure; we have the receipt
+	of fern-seed, we walk invisible.
+
+Chamberlain	Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to
+	the night than to fern-seed for your walking invisible.
+
+GADSHILL	Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our
+	purchase, as I am a true man.
+
+Chamberlain	Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief.
+
+GADSHILL	Go to; 'homo' is a common name to all men. Bid the
+	ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell,
+	you muddy knave.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The highway, near Gadshill.
+
+
+	[Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS]
+
+POINS	Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff's
+	horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Stand close.
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF]
+
+FALSTAFF	Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! what a brawling dost
+	thou keep!
+
+FALSTAFF	Where's Poins, Hal?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	He is walked up to the top of the hill: I'll go seek him.
+
+FALSTAFF	I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the
+	rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know
+	not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier
+	further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt
+	not but to die a fair death for all this, if I
+	'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have
+	forsworn his company hourly any time this two and
+	twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the
+	rogue's company. If the rascal hath not given me
+	medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it
+	could not be else: I have drunk medicines. Poins!
+	Hal! a plague upon you both! Bardolph! Peto!
+	I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere
+	not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man and to
+	leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that
+	ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven
+	ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me;
+	and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough:
+	a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
+
+	[They whistle]
+
+	Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you
+	rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine ear close
+	to the ground and list if thou canst hear the tread
+	of travellers.
+
+FALSTAFF	Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down?
+	'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot
+	again for all the coin in thy father's exchequer.
+	What a plague mean ye to colt me thus?
+
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted.
+
+FALSTAFF	I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse,
+	good king's son.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Out, ye rogue! shall I be your ostler?
+
+FALSTAFF	Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent
+	garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I
+	have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy
+	tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest
+	is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it.
+
+	[Enter GADSHILL, BARDOLPH and PETO]
+
+GADSHILL	Stand.
+
+FALSTAFF	So I do, against my will.
+
+POINS	O, 'tis our setter: I know his voice. Bardolph,
+	what news?
+
+BARDOLPH	Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards: there 's
+	money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going
+	to the king's exchequer.
+
+FALSTAFF	You lie, ye rogue; 'tis going to the king's tavern.
+
+GADSHILL	There's enough to make us all.
+
+FALSTAFF	To be hanged.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane;
+	Ned Poins and I will walk lower: if they 'scape
+	from your encounter, then they light on us.
+
+PETO	How many be there of them?
+
+GADSHILL	Some eight or ten.
+
+FALSTAFF	'Zounds, will they not rob us?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What, a coward, Sir John Paunch?
+
+FALSTAFF	Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather;
+	but yet no coward, Hal.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Well, we leave that to the proof.
+
+POINS	Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge:
+	when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him.
+	Farewell, and stand fast.
+
+FALSTAFF	Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Ned, where are our disguises?
+
+POINS	Here, hard by: stand close.
+
+	[Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and POINS]
+
+FALSTAFF	Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I:
+	every man to his business.
+
+	[Enter the Travellers]
+
+First Traveller	Come, neighbour: the boy shall lead our horses down
+	the hill; we'll walk afoot awhile, and ease our legs.
+
+Thieves	Stand!
+
+Travellers	Jesus bless us!
+
+FALSTAFF	Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats:
+	ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they
+	hate us youth: down with them: fleece them.
+
+Travellers	O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever!
+
+FALSTAFF	Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye
+	fat chuffs: I would your store were here! On,
+	bacons, on! What, ye knaves! young men must live.
+	You are Grand-jurors, are ye? we'll jure ye, 'faith.
+
+	[Here they rob them and bind them. Exeunt]
+
+	[Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou
+	and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it
+	would be argument for a week, laughter for a month
+	and a good jest for ever.
+
+POINS	Stand close; I hear them coming.
+
+	[Enter the Thieves again]
+
+FALSTAFF	Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse
+	before day. An the Prince and Poins be not two
+	arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: there's
+	no more valour in that Poins than in a wild-duck.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Your money!
+
+POINS	Villains!
+
+	[As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon
+	them; they all run away; and Falstaff, after a blow
+	or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse:
+	The thieves are all scatter'd and possess'd with fear
+	So strongly that they dare not meet each other;
+	Each takes his fellow for an officer.
+	Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death,
+	And lards the lean earth as he walks along:
+	Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him.
+
+POINS	How the rogue roar'd!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Warkworth castle
+
+
+	[Enter HOTSPUR, solus, reading a letter]
+
+HOTSPUR	'But for mine own part, my lord, I could be well
+	contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear
+	your house.' He could be contented: why is he not,
+	then? In respect of the love he bears our house:
+	he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than
+	he loves our house. Let me see some more. 'The
+	purpose you undertake is dangerous;'--why, that's
+	certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to
+	drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this
+	nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. 'The
+	purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you
+	have named uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and
+	your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so
+	great an opposition.' Say you so, say you so? I say
+	unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and
+	you lie.  What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord,
+	our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our
+	friends true and constant: a good plot, good
+	friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot,
+	very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is
+	this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot and the
+	general course of action. 'Zounds, an I were now by
+	this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan.
+	Is there not my father, my uncle and myself? lord
+	Edmund Mortimer, My lord of York and Owen Glendower?
+	is there not besides the Douglas? have I not all
+	their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the
+	next month? and are they not some of them set
+	forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an
+	infidel! Ha! you shall see now in very sincerity
+	of fear and cold heart, will he to the king and lay
+	open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself
+	and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of
+	skim milk with so honourable an action! Hang him!
+	let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set
+	forward to-night.
+
+	[Enter LADY PERCY]
+
+	How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours.
+
+LADY PERCY	O, my good lord, why are you thus alone?
+	For what offence have I this fortnight been
+	A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed?
+	Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee
+	Thy stomach, pleasure and thy golden sleep?
+	Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,
+	And start so often when thou sit'st alone?
+	Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks;
+	And given my treasures and my rights of thee
+	To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy?
+	In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd,
+	And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars;
+	Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;
+	Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd
+	Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents,
+	Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,
+	Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,
+	Of prisoners' ransom and of soldiers slain,
+	And all the currents of a heady fight.
+	Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war
+	And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep,
+	That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow
+	Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream;
+	And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
+	Such as we see when men restrain their breath
+	On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these?
+	Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
+	And I must know it, else he loves me not.
+
+HOTSPUR	What, ho!
+
+	[Enter Servant]
+
+	Is Gilliams with the packet gone?
+
+Servant	He is, my lord, an hour ago.
+
+
+HOTSPUR	Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?
+
+Servant	One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
+
+HOTSPUR	What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?
+
+Servant	It is, my lord.
+
+HOTSPUR	                  That roan shall by my throne.
+	Well, I will back him straight: O esperance!
+	Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+LADY PERCY	But hear you, my lord.
+
+HOTSPUR	What say'st thou, my lady?
+
+LADY PERCY	What is it carries you away?
+
+HOTSPUR	Why, my horse, my love, my horse.
+
+LADY PERCY	Out, you mad-headed ape!
+	A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen
+	As you are toss'd with. In faith,
+	I'll know your business, Harry, that I will.
+	I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir
+	About his title, and hath sent for you
+	To line his enterprise: but if you go,--
+
+HOTSPUR	So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
+
+LADY PERCY	Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
+	Directly unto this question that I ask:
+	In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
+	An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.
+
+HOTSPUR	Away,
+	Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not,
+	I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world
+	To play with mammets and to tilt with lips:
+	We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns,
+	And pass them current too. God's me, my horse!
+	What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou
+	have with me?
+
+LADY PERCY	Do you not love me? do you not, indeed?
+	Well, do not then; for since you love me not,
+	I will not love myself. Do you not love me?
+	Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.
+
+HOTSPUR	Come, wilt thou see me ride?
+	And when I am on horseback, I will swear
+	I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate;
+	I must not have you henceforth question me
+	Whither I go, nor reason whereabout:
+	Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,
+	This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
+	I know you wise, but yet no farther wise
+	Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are,
+	But yet a woman: and for secrecy,
+	No lady closer; for I well believe
+	Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;
+	And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.
+
+LADY PERCY	How! so far?
+
+HOTSPUR	Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate:
+	Whither I go, thither shall you go too;
+	To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.
+	Will this content you, Kate?
+
+LADY PERCY	It must of force.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap.
+
+
+	[Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room, and lend me
+	thy hand to laugh a little.
+
+POINS	Where hast been, Hal?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	With three or four loggerheads amongst three or four
+	score hogsheads. I have sounded the very
+	base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother
+	to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by
+	their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis.
+	They take it already upon their salvation, that
+	though I be but the prince of Wales, yet I am king
+	of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack,
+	like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a
+	good boy, by the Lord, so they call me, and when I
+	am king of England, I shall command all the good
+	lads in Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dyeing
+	scarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, they
+	cry  'hem!' and bid you play it off. To conclude, I
+	am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour,
+	that I can drink with any tinker in his own language
+	during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost
+	much honour, that thou wert not with me in this sweet
+	action. But, sweet Ned,--to sweeten which name of
+	Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped
+	even now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that
+	never spake other English in his life than 'Eight
+	shillings and sixpence' and 'You are welcome,' with
+	this shrill addition, 'Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint
+	of bastard in the Half-Moon,' or so. But, Ned, to
+	drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee,
+	do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my
+	puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do
+	thou never leave calling 'Francis,' that his tale
+	to me may be nothing but 'Anon.' Step aside, and
+	I'll show thee a precedent.
+
+POINS	Francis!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Thou art perfect.
+
+POINS	Francis!
+
+	[Exit POINS]
+
+	[Enter FRANCIS]
+
+FRANCIS	Anon, anon, sir. Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Come hither, Francis.
+
+FRANCIS	My lord?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	How long hast thou to serve, Francis?
+
+FRANCIS	Forsooth, five years, and as much as to--
+
+POINS	[Within]  Francis!
+
+FRANCIS	Anon, anon, sir.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Five year! by'r lady, a long lease for the clinking
+	of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant
+	as to play the coward with thy indenture and show it
+	a fair pair of heels and run from it?
+
+FRANCIS	O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in
+	England, I could find in my heart.
+
+POINS	[Within]  Francis!
+
+FRANCIS	Anon, sir.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	How old art thou, Francis?
+
+FRANCIS	Let me see--about Michaelmas next I shall be--
+
+POINS	[Within]  Francis!
+
+FRANCIS	Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Nay, but hark you, Francis: for the sugar thou
+	gavest me,'twas a pennyworth, wast't not?
+
+FRANCIS	O Lord, I would it had been two!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me
+	when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.
+
+POINS	[Within]  Francis!
+
+FRANCIS	Anon, anon.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis;
+	or, Francis, o' Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when
+	thou wilt. But, Francis!
+
+FRANCIS	My lord?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Wilt thou rob this leathern jerkin, crystal-button,
+	not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter,
+	smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch,--
+
+FRANCIS	O Lord, sir, who do you mean?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink;
+	for look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet
+	will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much.
+
+FRANCIS	What, sir?
+
+POINS	[Within]  Francis!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Away, you rogue! dost thou not hear them call?
+
+	[Here they both call him; the drawer stands amazed,
+	not knowing which way to go]
+
+	[Enter Vintner]
+
+Vintner	What, standest thou still, and hearest such a
+	calling? Look to the guests within.
+
+	[Exit Francis]
+
+	My lord, old Sir John, with half-a-dozen more, are
+	at the door: shall I let them in?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Let them alone awhile, and then open the door.
+
+	[Exit Vintner]
+	Poins!
+
+	[Re-enter POINS]
+
+POINS	Anon, anon, sir.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at
+	the door: shall we be merry?
+
+POINS	As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; what
+	cunning match have you made with this jest of the
+	drawer? come, what's the issue?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I am now of all humours that have showed themselves
+	humours since the old days of goodman Adam to the
+	pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight.
+
+	[Re-enter FRANCIS]
+
+	What's o'clock, Francis?
+
+FRANCIS	Anon, anon, sir.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a
+	parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is
+	upstairs and downstairs; his eloquence the parcel of
+	a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the
+	Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some six or
+	seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his
+	hands, and says to his wife 'Fie upon this quiet
+	life! I want work.' 'O my sweet Harry,' says she,
+	'how many hast thou killed to-day?' 'Give my roan
+	horse a drench,' says he; and answers 'Some
+	fourteen,' an hour after; 'a trifle, a trifle.' I
+	prithee, call in Falstaff: I'll play Percy, and
+	that damned brawn shall play Dame Mortimer his
+	wife. 'Rivo!' says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow.
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and PETO;
+	FRANCIS following with wine]
+
+POINS	Welcome, Jack: where hast thou been?
+
+FALSTAFF	A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too!
+	marry, and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I
+	lead this life long, I'll sew nether stocks and mend
+	them and foot them too. A plague of all cowards!
+	Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant?
+
+	[He drinks]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter?
+	pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale
+	of the sun's! if thou didst, then behold that compound.
+
+FALSTAFF	You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: there is
+	nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man:
+	yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime
+	in it. A villanous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack;
+	die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be
+	not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a
+	shotten herring. There live not three good men
+	unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and
+	grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say.
+	I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or any
+	thing. A plague of all cowards, I say still.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	How now, wool-sack! what mutter you?
+
+FALSTAFF	A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy
+	kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy
+	subjects afore thee like a flock of wild-geese,
+	I'll never wear hair on my face more. You Prince of Wales!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter?
+
+FALSTAFF	Are not you a coward? answer me to that: and Poins there?
+
+POINS	'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the
+	Lord, I'll stab thee.
+
+FALSTAFF	I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call
+	thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound I
+	could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight
+	enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your
+	back: call you that backing of your friends? A
+	plague upon such backing! give me them that will
+	face me. Give me a cup of sack: I am a rogue, if I
+	drunk to-day.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou
+	drunkest last.
+
+FALSTAFF	All's one for that.
+
+	[He drinks]
+
+	A plague of all cowards, still say I.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What's the matter?
+
+FALSTAFF	What's the matter! there be four of us here have
+	ta'en a thousand pound this day morning.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Where is it, Jack? where is it?
+
+FALSTAFF	Where is it! taken from us it is: a hundred upon
+	poor four of us.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What, a hundred, man?
+
+FALSTAFF	I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a
+	dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by
+	miracle. I am eight times thrust through the
+	doublet, four through the hose; my buckler cut
+	through and through; my sword hacked like a
+	hand-saw--ecce signum! I never dealt better since
+	I was a man: all would not do. A plague of all
+	cowards! Let them speak: if they speak more or
+	less than truth, they are villains and the sons of darkness.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Speak, sirs; how was it?
+
+GADSHILL	We four set upon some dozen--
+
+FALSTAFF	Sixteen at least, my lord.
+
+GADSHILL	And bound them.
+
+PETO	No, no, they were not bound.
+
+FALSTAFF	You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I
+	am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew.
+
+GADSHILL	As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us--
+
+FALSTAFF	And unbound the rest, and then come in the other.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What, fought you with them all?
+
+FALSTAFF	All! I know not what you call all; but if I fought
+	not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if
+	there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old
+	Jack, then am I no two-legged creature.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Pray God you have not murdered some of them.
+
+FALSTAFF	Nay, that's past praying for: I have peppered two
+	of them; two I am sure I have paid, two rogues
+	in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell
+	thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou
+	knowest my old ward; here I lay and thus I bore my
+	point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me--
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What, four? thou saidst but two even now.
+
+FALSTAFF	Four, Hal; I told thee four.
+
+POINS	Ay, ay, he said four.
+
+FALSTAFF	These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at
+	me. I made me no more ado but took all their seven
+	points in my target, thus.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Seven? why, there were but four even now.
+
+FALSTAFF	In buckram?
+
+POINS	Ay, four, in buckram suits.
+
+FALSTAFF	Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Prithee, let him alone; we shall have more anon.
+
+FALSTAFF	Dost thou hear me, Hal?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.
+
+FALSTAFF	Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine
+	in buckram that I told thee of--
+
+PRINCE HENRY	So, two more already.
+
+FALSTAFF	Their points being broken,--
+
+POINS	Down fell their hose.
+
+FALSTAFF	Began to give me ground: but I followed me close,
+	came in foot and hand; and with a thought seven of
+	the eleven I paid.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!
+
+FALSTAFF	But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten
+	knaves in Kendal green came at my back and let drive
+	at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst
+	not see thy hand.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	These lies are like their father that begets them;
+	gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou
+	clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou
+	whoreson, obscene, grease tallow-catch,--
+
+FALSTAFF	What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth
+	the truth?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal
+	green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy
+	hand? come, tell us your reason: what sayest thou to this?
+
+POINS	Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.
+
+FALSTAFF	What, upon compulsion? 'Zounds, an I were at the
+	strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would
+	not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on
+	compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as
+	blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon
+	compulsion, I.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine
+	coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker,
+	this huge hill of flesh,--
+
+FALSTAFF	'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried
+	neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O
+	for breath to utter what is like thee! you
+	tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile
+	standing-tuck,--
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and
+	when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons,
+	hear me speak but this.
+
+POINS	Mark, Jack.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	We two saw you four set on four and bound them, and
+	were masters of their wealth. Mark now, how a plain
+	tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you
+	four; and, with a word, out-faced you from your
+	prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in
+	the house: and, Falstaff, you carried your guts
+	away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared
+	for mercy and still run and roared, as ever I heard
+	bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword
+	as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight!
+	What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst
+	thou now find out to hide thee from this open and
+	apparent shame?
+
+POINS	Come, let's hear, Jack; what trick hast thou now?
+
+FALSTAFF	By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye.
+	Why, hear you, my masters: was it for me to kill the
+	heir-apparent? should I turn upon the true prince?
+	why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules: but
+	beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true
+	prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was now a
+	coward on instinct. I shall think the better of
+	myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant
+	lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord,
+	lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap
+	to the doors: watch to-night, pray to-morrow.
+	Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles
+	of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be
+	merry? shall we have a play extempore?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Content; and the argument shall be thy running away.
+
+FALSTAFF	Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me!
+
+	[Enter Hostess]
+
+Hostess	O Jesu, my lord the prince!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	How now, my lady the hostess! what sayest thou to
+	me?
+
+Hostess	Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at
+	door would speak with you: he says he comes from
+	your father.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and
+	send him back again to my mother.
+
+FALSTAFF	What manner of man is he?
+
+Hostess	An old man.
+
+FALSTAFF	What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall
+	I give him his answer?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Prithee, do, Jack.
+
+FALSTAFF	'Faith, and I'll send him packing.
+
+	[Exit FALSTAFF]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Now, sirs: by'r lady, you fought fair; so did you,
+	Peto; so did you, Bardolph: you are lions too, you
+	ran away upon instinct, you will not touch the true
+	prince; no, fie!
+
+BARDOLPH	'Faith, I ran when I saw others run.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	'Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's
+	sword so hacked?
+
+PETO	Why, he hacked it with his dagger, and said he would
+	swear truth out of England but he would make you
+	believe it was done in fight, and persuaded us to do the like.
+
+BARDOLPH	Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass to
+	make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments
+	with it and swear it was the blood of true men. I
+	did that I did not this seven year before, I blushed
+	to hear his monstrous devices.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years
+	ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since
+	thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and
+	sword on thy side, and yet thou rannest away: what
+	instinct hadst thou for it?
+
+BARDOLPH	My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold
+	these exhalations?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I do.
+
+BARDOLPH	What think you they portend?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Hot livers and cold purses.
+
+BARDOLPH	Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	No, if rightly taken, halter.
+
+	[Re-enter FALSTAFF]
+
+	Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone.
+	How now, my sweet creature of bombast!
+	How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee?
+
+FALSTAFF	My own knee! when I was about thy years, Hal, I was
+	not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have
+	crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: a plague of
+	sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a
+	bladder. There's villanous news abroad: here was
+	Sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the
+	court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the
+	north, Percy, and he of Wales, that gave Amamon the
+	bastinado and made Lucifer cuckold and swore the
+	devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh
+	hook--what a plague call you him?
+
+POINS	O, Glendower.
+
+FALSTAFF	Owen, Owen, the same; and his son-in-law Mortimer,
+	and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of
+	Scots, Douglas, that runs o' horseback up a hill
+	perpendicular,--
+
+PRINCE HENRY	He that rides at high speed and with his pistol
+	kills a sparrow flying.
+
+FALSTAFF	You have hit it.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	So did he never the sparrow.
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so
+	for running!
+
+FALSTAFF	O' horseback, ye cuckoo; but afoot he will not budge a foot.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Yes, Jack, upon instinct.
+
+FALSTAFF	I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too,
+	and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more:
+	Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's
+	beard is turned white with the news: you may buy
+	land now as cheap as stinking mackerel.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Why, then, it is like, if there come a hot June and
+	this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads
+	as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds.
+
+FALSTAFF	By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like we
+	shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal,
+	art not thou horrible afeard? thou being
+	heir-apparent, could the world pick thee out three
+	such enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that
+	spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou
+	not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at
+	it?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Not a whit, i' faith; I lack some of thy instinct.
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, thou wert be horribly chid tomorrow when thou
+	comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the
+	particulars of my life.
+
+FALSTAFF	Shall I? content: this chair shall be my state,
+	this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Thy state is taken for a joined-stool, thy golden
+	sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich
+	crown for a pitiful bald crown!
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee,
+	now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of sack to
+	make my eyes look red, that it may be thought I have
+	wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it
+	in King Cambyses' vein.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Well, here is my leg.
+
+FALSTAFF	And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility.
+
+Hostess	O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith!
+
+FALSTAFF	Weep not, sweet queen; for trickling tears are vain.
+
+Hostess	O, the father, how he holds his countenance!
+
+FALSTAFF	For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen;
+	For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes.
+
+Hostess	O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry
+	players as ever I see!
+
+FALSTAFF	Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain.
+	Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy
+	time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though
+	the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster
+	it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the
+	sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have
+	partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion,
+	but chiefly a villanous trick of thine eye and a
+	foolish-hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant
+	me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point;
+	why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall
+	the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat
+	blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall
+	the sun of England prove a thief and take purses? a
+	question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry,
+	which thou hast often heard of and it is known to
+	many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch,
+	as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth
+	the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not
+	speak to thee in drink but in tears, not in
+	pleasure but in passion, not in words only, but in
+	woes also: and yet there is a virtuous man whom I
+	have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What manner of man, an it like your majesty?
+
+FALSTAFF	A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a
+	cheerful look, a pleasing eye and a most noble
+	carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or,
+	by'r lady, inclining to three score; and now I
+	remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man
+	should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry,
+	I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be
+	known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then,
+	peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that
+	Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell
+	me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast
+	thou been this month?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me,
+	and I'll play my father.
+
+FALSTAFF	Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so
+	majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by
+	the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a poulter's hare.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Well, here I am set.
+
+FALSTAFF	And here I stand: judge, my masters.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Now, Harry, whence come you?
+
+FALSTAFF	My noble lord, from Eastcheap.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	The complaints I hear of thee are grievous.
+
+FALSTAFF	'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll tickle
+	ye for a young prince, i' faith.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look
+	on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace:
+	there is a devil haunts thee in the likeness of an
+	old fat man; a tun of man is thy companion. Why
+	dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that
+	bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel
+	of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed
+	cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with
+	the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that
+	grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in
+	years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and
+	drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a
+	capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft?
+	wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous,
+	but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing?
+
+FALSTAFF	I would your grace would take me with you: whom
+	means your grace?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	That villanous abominable misleader of youth,
+	Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan.
+
+FALSTAFF	My lord, the man I know.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I know thou dost.
+
+FALSTAFF	But to say I know more harm in him than in myself,
+	were to say more than I know. That he is old, the
+	more the pity, his white hairs do witness it; but
+	that he is, saving your reverence, a whoremaster,
+	that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault,
+	God help the wicked! if to be old and merry be a
+	sin, then many an old host that I know is damned: if
+	to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine
+	are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto,
+	banish Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack
+	Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff,
+	valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant,
+	being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him
+	thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harry's
+	company: banish plump Jack, and banish all the world.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I do, I will.
+
+	[A knocking heard]
+
+	[Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH]
+
+	[Re-enter BARDOLPH, running]
+
+BARDOLPH	O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a most
+	monstrous watch is at the door.
+
+FALSTAFF	Out, ye rogue! Play out the play: I have much to
+	say in the behalf of that Falstaff.
+
+	[Re-enter the Hostess]
+
+Hostess	O Jesu, my lord, my lord!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick:
+	what's the matter?
+
+Hostess	The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they
+	are come to search the house. Shall I let them in?
+
+FALSTAFF	Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of
+	gold a counterfeit: thou art essentially mad,
+	without seeming so.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	And thou a natural coward, without instinct.
+
+FALSTAFF	I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff,
+	so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart
+	as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up!
+	I hope I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as another.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Go, hide thee behind the arras: the rest walk up
+	above. Now, my masters, for a true face and good
+	conscience.
+
+FALSTAFF	Both which I have had: but their date is out, and
+	therefore I'll hide me.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Call in the sheriff.
+
+	[Exeunt all except PRINCE HENRY and PETO]
+
+	[Enter Sheriff and the Carrier]
+
+	Now, master sheriff, what is your will with me?
+
+Sheriff	First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry
+	Hath follow'd certain men unto this house.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What men?
+
+Sheriff	One of them is well known, my gracious lord,
+	A gross fat man.
+
+Carrier	                  As fat as butter.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	The man, I do assure you, is not here;
+	For I myself at this time have employ'd him.
+	And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee
+	That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time,
+	Send him to answer thee, or any man,
+	For any thing he shall be charged withal:
+	And so let me entreat you leave the house.
+
+Sheriff	I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen
+	Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	It may be so: if he have robb'd these men,
+	He shall be answerable; and so farewell.
+
+Sheriff	Good night, my noble lord.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I think it is good morrow, is it not?
+
+Sheriff	Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock.
+
+	[Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go,
+	call him forth.
+
+PETO	Falstaff!--Fast asleep behind the arras, and
+	snorting like a horse.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Hark, how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets.
+
+	[He searcheth his pockets, and findeth certain papers]
+
+	What hast thou found?
+
+PETO	Nothing but papers, my lord.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Let's see what they be: read them.
+
+PETO	[Reads]  Item, A capon,. . 2s. 2d.
+	Item, Sauce,. . . 4d.
+	Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d.
+	Item, Anchovies and sack after supper, 2s. 6d.
+	Item, Bread,        ob.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	O monstrous! but one half-penny-worth of bread to
+	this intolerable deal of sack! What there is else,
+	keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there
+	let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the
+	morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place
+	shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a
+	charge of foot; and I know his death will be a
+	march of twelve-score. The money shall be paid
+	back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in
+	the morning; and so, good morrow, Peto.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+PETO	Good morrow, good my lord.
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Bangor. The Archdeacon's house.
+
+
+	[Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER]
+
+MORTIMER	These promises are fair, the parties sure,
+	And our induction full of prosperous hope.
+
+HOTSPUR	Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower,
+	Will you sit down?
+	And uncle Worcester: a plague upon it!
+	I have forgot the map.
+
+GLENDOWER	No, here it is.
+	Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur,
+	For by that name as oft as Lancaster
+	Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale and with
+	A rising sigh he wisheth you in heaven.
+
+HOTSPUR	And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.
+
+GLENDOWER	I cannot blame him: at my nativity
+	The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
+	Of burning cressets; and at my birth
+	The frame and huge foundation of the earth
+	Shaked like a coward.
+
+HOTSPUR	Why, so it would have done at the same season, if
+	your mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself
+	had never been born.
+
+GLENDOWER	I say the earth did shake when I was born.
+
+HOTSPUR	And I say the earth was not of my mind,
+	If you suppose as fearing you it shook.
+
+GLENDOWER	The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble.
+
+HOTSPUR	O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire,
+	And not in fear of your nativity.
+	Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth
+	In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth
+	Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd
+	By the imprisoning of unruly wind
+	Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving,
+	Shakes the old beldam earth and topples down
+	Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth
+	Our grandam earth, having this distemperature,
+	In passion shook.
+
+GLENDOWER	                  Cousin, of many men
+	I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave
+	To tell you once again that at my birth
+	The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
+	The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
+	Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
+	These signs have mark'd me extraordinary;
+	And all the courses of my life do show
+	I am not in the roll of common men.
+	Where is he living, clipp'd in with the sea
+	That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,
+	Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me?
+	And bring him out that is but woman's son
+	Can trace me in the tedious ways of art
+	And hold me pace in deep experiments.
+
+HOTSPUR	I think there's no man speaks better Welsh.
+	I'll to dinner.
+
+MORTIMER	Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad.
+
+GLENDOWER	I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
+
+HOTSPUR	Why, so can I, or so can any man;
+	But will they come when you do call for them?
+
+GLENDOWER	Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command
+	The devil.
+
+HOTSPUR	And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil
+	By telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil.
+	If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,
+	And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence.
+	O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil!
+
+MORTIMER	Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.
+
+GLENDOWER	Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head
+	Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye
+	And sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent him
+	Bootless home and weather-beaten back.
+
+HOTSPUR	Home without boots, and in foul weather too!
+	How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name?
+
+GLENDOWER	Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right
+	According to our threefold order ta'en?
+
+MORTIMER	The archdeacon hath divided it
+	Into three limits very equally:
+	England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,
+	By south and east is to my part assign'd:
+	All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,
+	And all the fertile land within that bound,
+	To Owen Glendower: and, dear coz, to you
+	The remnant northward, lying off from Trent.
+	And our indentures tripartite are drawn;
+	Which being sealed interchangeably,
+	A business that this night may execute,
+	To-morrow, cousin Percy, you and I
+	And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth
+	To meet your father and the Scottish power,
+	As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.
+	My father Glendower is not ready yet,
+	Not shall we need his help these fourteen days.
+	Within that space you may have drawn together
+	Your tenants, friends and neighbouring gentlemen.
+
+GLENDOWER	A shorter time shall send me to you, lords:
+	And in my conduct shall your ladies come;
+	From whom you now must steal and take no leave,
+	For there will be a world of water shed
+	Upon the parting of your wives and you.
+
+HOTSPUR	Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here,
+	In quantity equals not one of yours:
+	See how this river comes me cranking in,
+	And cuts me from the best of all my land
+	A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.
+	I'll have the current in this place damm'd up;
+	And here the smug and silver Trent shall run
+	In a new channel, fair and evenly;
+	It shall not wind with such a deep indent,
+	To rob me of so rich a bottom here.
+
+GLENDOWER	Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth.
+
+MORTIMER	Yea, but
+	Mark how he bears his course, and runs me up
+	With like advantage on the other side;
+	Gelding the opposed continent as much
+	As on the other side it takes from you.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	Yea, but a little charge will trench him here
+	And on this north side win this cape of land;
+	And then he runs straight and even.
+
+HOTSPUR	I'll have it so: a little charge will do it.
+
+GLENDOWER	I'll not have it alter'd.
+
+HOTSPUR	Will not you?
+
+GLENDOWER	No, nor you shall not.
+
+HOTSPUR	Who shall say me nay?
+
+GLENDOWER	Why, that will I.
+
+HOTSPUR	Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh.
+
+GLENDOWER	I can speak English, lord, as well as you;
+	For I was train'd up in the English court;
+	Where, being but young, I framed to the harp
+	Many an English ditty lovely well
+	And gave the tongue a helpful ornament,
+	A virtue that was never seen in you.
+
+HOTSPUR	Marry,
+	And I am glad of it with all my heart:
+	I had rather be a kitten and cry mew
+	Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers;
+	I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd,
+	Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree;
+	And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,
+	Nothing so much as mincing poetry:
+	'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.
+
+GLENDOWER	Come, you shall have Trent turn'd.
+
+HOTSPUR	I do not care: I'll give thrice so much land
+	To any well-deserving friend;
+	But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
+	I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.
+	Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone?
+
+GLENDOWER	The moon shines fair; you may away by night:
+	I'll haste the writer and withal
+	Break with your wives of your departure hence:
+	I am afraid my daughter will run mad,
+	So much she doteth on her Mortimer.
+
+	[Exit GLENDOWER]
+
+MORTIMER	Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father!
+
+HOTSPUR	I cannot choose: sometime he angers me
+	With telling me of the mouldwarp and the ant,
+	Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,
+	And of a dragon and a finless fish,
+	A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven,
+	A couching lion and a ramping cat,
+	And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff
+	As puts me from my faith. I tell you what;
+	He held me last night at least nine hours
+	In reckoning up the several devils' names
+	That were his lackeys: I cried 'hum,' and 'well, go to,'
+	But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious
+	As a tired horse, a railing wife;
+	Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live
+	With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far,
+	Than feed on cates and have him talk to me
+	In any summer-house in Christendom.
+
+MORTIMER	In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,
+	Exceedingly well read, and profited
+	In strange concealments, valiant as a lion
+	And as wondrous affable and as bountiful
+	As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?
+	He holds your temper in a high respect
+	And curbs himself even of his natural scope
+	When you come 'cross his humour; faith, he does:
+	I warrant you, that man is not alive
+	Might so have tempted him as you have done,
+	Without the taste of danger and reproof:
+	But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame;
+	And since your coming hither have done enough
+	To put him quite beside his patience.
+	You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault:
+	Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,--
+	And that's the dearest grace it renders you,--
+	Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
+	Defect of manners, want of government,
+	Pride, haughtiness, opinion and disdain:
+	The least of which haunting a nobleman
+	Loseth men's hearts and leaves behind a stain
+	Upon the beauty of all parts besides,
+	Beguiling them of commendation.
+
+HOTSPUR	Well, I am school'd: good manners be your speed!
+	Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.
+
+	[Re-enter GLENDOWER with the ladies]
+
+MORTIMER	This is the deadly spite that angers me;
+	My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.
+
+GLENDOWER	My daughter weeps: she will not part with you;
+	She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars.
+
+MORTIMER	Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy
+	Shall follow in your conduct speedily.
+
+	[Glendower speaks to her in Welsh, and she
+	answers him in the same]
+
+GLENDOWER	She is desperate here; a peevish self-wind harlotry,
+	one that no persuasion can do good upon.
+
+	[The lady speaks in Welsh]
+
+MORTIMER	I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh
+	Which thou pour'st down from these swelling heavens
+	I am too perfect in; and, but for shame,
+	In such a parley should I answer thee.
+
+	[The lady speaks again in Welsh]
+
+	I understand thy kisses and thou mine,
+	And that's a feeling disputation:
+	But I will never be a truant, love,
+	Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongue
+	Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd,
+	Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower,
+	With ravishing division, to her lute.
+
+GLENDOWER	Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.
+
+	[The lady speaks again in Welsh]
+
+MORTIMER	O, I am ignorance itself in this!
+
+GLENDOWER	She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
+	And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
+	And she will sing the song that pleaseth you
+	And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep.
+	Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness,
+	Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep
+	As is the difference betwixt day and night
+	The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team
+	Begins his golden progress in the east.
+
+MORTIMER	With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing:
+	By that time will our book, I think, be drawn
+
+GLENDOWER	Do so;
+	And those musicians that shall play to you
+	Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence,
+	And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend.
+
+HOTSPUR	Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come,
+	quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.
+
+LADY PERCY	Go, ye giddy goose.
+
+	[The music plays]
+
+HOTSPUR	Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh;
+	And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous.
+	By'r lady, he is a good musician.
+
+LADY PERCY	Then should you be nothing but musical for you are
+	altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief,
+	and hear the lady sing in Welsh.
+
+HOTSPUR	I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish.
+
+LADY PERCY	Wouldst thou have thy head broken?
+
+HOTSPUR	No.
+
+LADY PERCY	Then be still.
+
+HOTSPUR	Neither;'tis a woman's fault.
+
+LADY PERCY	Now God help thee!
+
+HOTSPUR	To the Welsh lady's bed.
+
+LADY PERCY	What's that?
+
+HOTSPUR	Peace! she sings.
+
+	[Here the lady sings a Welsh song]
+
+HOTSPUR	Come, Kate, I'll have your song too.
+
+LADY PERCY	Not mine, in good sooth.
+
+HOTSPUR	Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like a
+	comfit-maker's wife. 'Not you, in good sooth,' and
+	'as true as I live,' and 'as God shall mend me,' and
+	'as sure as day,'
+	And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths,
+	As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury.
+	Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,
+	A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,'
+	And such protest of pepper-gingerbread,
+	To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens.
+	Come, sing.
+
+LADY PERCY	I will not sing.
+
+HOTSPUR	'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast
+	teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away
+	within these two hours; and so, come in when ye will.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+GLENDOWER	Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow
+	As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go.
+	By this our book is drawn; we'll but seal,
+	And then to horse immediately.
+
+MORTIMER	With all my heart.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE HENRY, and others]
+
+KING HENRY IV	Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I
+	Must have some private conference; but be near at hand,
+	For we shall presently have need of you.
+
+	[Exeunt Lords]
+
+	I know not whether God will have it so,
+	For some displeasing service I have done,
+	That, in his secret doom, out of my blood
+	He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me;
+	But thou dost in thy passages of life
+	Make me believe that thou art only mark'd
+	For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven
+	To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else,
+	Could such inordinate and low desires,
+	Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,
+	Such barren pleasures, rude society,
+	As thou art match'd withal and grafted to,
+	Accompany the greatness of thy blood
+	And hold their level with thy princely heart?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	So please your majesty, I would I could
+	Quit all offences with as clear excuse
+	As well as I am doubtless I can purge
+	Myself of many I am charged withal:
+	Yet such extenuation let me beg,
+	As, in reproof of many tales devised,
+	which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear,
+	By smiling pick-thanks and base news-mongers,
+	I may, for some things true, wherein my youth
+	Hath faulty wander'd and irregular,
+	Find pardon on my true submission.
+
+KING HENRY IV	God pardon thee! yet let me wonder, Harry,
+	At thy affections, which do hold a wing
+	Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.
+	Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost.
+	Which by thy younger brother is supplied,
+	And art almost an alien to the hearts
+	Of all the court and princes of my blood:
+	The hope and expectation of thy time
+	Is ruin'd, and the soul of every man
+	Prophetically doth forethink thy fall.
+	Had I so lavish of my presence been,
+	So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men,
+	So stale and cheap to vulgar company,
+	Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
+	Had still kept loyal to possession
+	And left me in reputeless banishment,
+	A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.
+	By being seldom seen, I could not stir
+	But like a comet I was wonder'd at;
+	That men would tell their children 'This is he;'
+	Others would say 'Where, which is Bolingbroke?'
+	And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,
+	And dress'd myself in such humility
+	That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts,
+	Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths,
+	Even in the presence of the crowned king.
+	Thus did I keep my person fresh and new;
+	My presence, like a robe pontifical,
+	Ne'er seen but wonder'd at: and so my state,
+	Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast
+	And won by rareness such solemnity.
+	The skipping king, he ambled up and down
+	With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits,
+	Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state,
+	Mingled his royalty with capering fools,
+	Had his great name profaned with their scorns
+	And gave his countenance, against his name,
+	To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push
+	Of every beardless vain comparative,
+	Grew a companion to the common streets,
+	Enfeoff'd himself to popularity;
+	That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes,
+	They surfeited with honey and began
+	To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
+	More than a little is by much too much.
+	So when he had occasion to be seen,
+	He was but as the cuckoo is in June,
+	Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes
+	As, sick and blunted with community,
+	Afford no extraordinary gaze,
+	Such as is bent on sun-like majesty
+	When it shines seldom in admiring eyes;
+	But rather drowzed and hung their eyelids down,
+	Slept in his face and render'd such aspect
+	As cloudy men use to their adversaries,
+	Being with his presence glutted, gorged and full.
+	And in that very line, Harry, standest thou;
+	For thou has lost thy princely privilege
+	With vile participation: not an eye
+	But is a-weary of thy common sight,
+	Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more;
+	Which now doth that I would not have it do,
+	Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord,
+	Be more myself.
+
+KING HENRY IV	                  For all the world
+	As thou art to this hour was Richard then
+	When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh,
+	And even as I was then is Percy now.
+	Now, by my sceptre and my soul to boot,
+	He hath more worthy interest to the state
+	Than thou the shadow of succession;
+	For of no right, nor colour like to right,
+	He doth fill fields with harness in the realm,
+	Turns head against the lion's armed jaws,
+	And, being no more in debt to years than thou,
+	Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on
+	To bloody battles and to bruising arms.
+	What never-dying honour hath he got
+	Against renowned Douglas! whose high deeds,
+	Whose hot incursions and great name in arms
+	Holds from all soldiers chief majority
+	And military title capital
+	Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ:
+	Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes,
+	This infant warrior, in his enterprises
+	Discomfited great Douglas, ta'en him once,
+	Enlarged him and made a friend of him,
+	To fill the mouth of deep defiance up
+	And shake the peace and safety of our throne.
+	And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,
+	The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer,
+	Capitulate against us and are up.
+	But wherefore do I tell these news to thee?
+	Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,
+	Which art my near'st and dearest enemy?
+	Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear,
+	Base inclination and the start of spleen
+	To fight against me under Percy's pay,
+	To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns,
+	To show how much thou art degenerate.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Do not think so; you shall not find it so:
+	And God forgive them that so much have sway'd
+	Your majesty's good thoughts away from me!
+	I will redeem all this on Percy's head
+	And in the closing of some glorious day
+	Be bold to tell you that I am your son;
+	When I will wear a garment all of blood
+	And stain my favours in a bloody mask,
+	Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it:
+	And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,
+	That this same child of honour and renown,
+	This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,
+	And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet.
+	For every honour sitting on his helm,
+	Would they were multitudes, and on my head
+	My shames redoubled! for the time will come,
+	That I shall make this northern youth exchange
+	His glorious deeds for my indignities.
+	Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
+	To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;
+	And I will call him to so strict account,
+	That he shall render every glory up,
+	Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,
+	Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.
+	This, in the name of God, I promise here:
+	The which if He be pleased I shall perform,
+	I do beseech your majesty may salve
+	The long-grown wounds of my intemperance:
+	If not, the end of life cancels all bands;
+	And I will die a hundred thousand deaths
+	Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
+
+KING HENRY IV	A hundred thousand rebels die in this:
+	Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein.
+
+	[Enter BLUNT]
+
+	How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed.
+
+SIR WALTER BLUNT	So hath the business that I come to speak of.
+	Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word
+	That Douglas and the English rebels met
+	The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury
+	A mighty and a fearful head they are,
+	If promises be kept on every hand,
+	As ever offer'd foul play in the state.
+
+KING HENRY IV	The Earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day;
+	With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster;
+	For this advertisement is five days old:
+	On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward;
+	On Thursday we ourselves will march: our meeting
+	Is Bridgenorth: and, Harry, you shall march
+	Through Gloucestershire; by which account,
+	Our business valued, some twelve days hence
+	Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet.
+	Our hands are full of business: let's away;
+	Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Eastcheap. The Boar's-Head Tavern.
+
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH]
+
+FALSTAFF	Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last
+	action? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why my
+	skin hangs about me like an like an old lady's loose
+	gown; I am withered like an old apple-john. Well,
+	I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some
+	liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I
+	shall have no strength to repent. An I have not
+	forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I
+	am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse: the inside of a
+	church! Company, villanous company, hath been the
+	spoil of me.
+
+BARDOLPH	Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long.
+
+FALSTAFF	Why, there is it: come sing me a bawdy song; make
+	me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman
+	need to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced not
+	above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house once
+	in a quarter--of an hour; paid money that I
+	borrowed, three of four times; lived well and in
+	good compass: and now I live out of all order, out
+	of all compass.
+
+BARDOLPH	Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs
+	be out of all compass, out of all reasonable
+	compass, Sir John.
+
+FALSTAFF	Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life:
+	thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in
+	the poop, but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the
+	Knight of the Burning Lamp.
+
+BARDOLPH	Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.
+
+FALSTAFF	No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many
+	a man doth of a Death's-head or a memento mori: I
+	never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire and
+	Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his
+	robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way
+	given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath
+	should be 'By this fire, that's God's angel:' but
+	thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but
+	for the light in thy face, the son of utter
+	darkness. When thou rannest up Gadshill in the
+	night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou
+	hadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire,
+	there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a
+	perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light!
+	Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and
+	torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt
+	tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast
+	drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap
+	at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have
+	maintained that salamander of yours with fire any
+	time this two and thirty years; God reward me for
+	it!
+
+BARDOLPH	'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!
+
+FALSTAFF	God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heart-burned.
+
+	[Enter Hostess]
+
+	How now, Dame Partlet the hen! have you inquired
+	yet who picked my pocket?
+
+Hostess	Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? do you
+	think I keep thieves in my house? I have searched,
+	I have inquired, so has my husband, man by man, boy
+	by boy, servant by servant: the tithe of a hair
+	was never lost in my house before.
+
+FALSTAFF	Ye lie, hostess: Bardolph was shaved and lost many
+	a hair; and I'll be sworn my pocket was picked. Go
+	to, you are a woman, go.
+
+Hostess	Who, I? no; I defy thee: God's light, I was never
+	called so in mine own house before.
+
+FALSTAFF	Go to, I know you well enough.
+
+Hostess	No, Sir John; You do not know me, Sir John. I know
+	you, Sir John: you owe me money, Sir John; and now
+	you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it: I bought
+	you a dozen of shirts to your back.
+
+FALSTAFF	Dowlas, filthy dowlas: I have given them away to
+	bakers' wives, and they have made bolters of them.
+
+Hostess	Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight
+	shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir
+	John, for your diet and by-drinkings, and money lent
+	you, four and twenty pound.
+
+FALSTAFF	He had his part of it; let him pay.
+
+Hostess	He? alas, he is poor; he hath nothing.
+
+FALSTAFF	How! poor? look upon his face; what call you rich?
+	let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks:
+	Ill not pay a denier. What, will you make a younker
+	of me? shall I not take mine case in mine inn but I
+	shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a
+	seal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark.
+
+Hostess	O Jesu, I have heard the prince tell him, I know not
+	how oft, that ring was copper!
+
+FALSTAFF	How! the prince is a Jack, a sneak-cup: 'sblood, an
+	he were here, I would cudgel him like a dog, if he
+	would say so.
+
+	[Enter PRINCE HENRY and PETO, marching, and FALSTAFF
+	meets them playing on his truncheon like a life]
+
+	How now, lad! is the wind in that door, i' faith?
+	must we all march?
+
+BARDOLPH	Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.
+
+Hostess	My lord, I pray you, hear me.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What sayest thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thy
+	husband? I love him well; he is an honest man.
+
+Hostess	Good my lord, hear me.
+
+FALSTAFF	Prithee, let her alone, and list to me.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What sayest thou, Jack?
+
+FALSTAFF	The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras
+	and had my pocket picked: this house is turned
+	bawdy-house; they pick pockets.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What didst thou lose, Jack?
+
+FALSTAFF	Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds of
+	forty pound apiece, and a seal-ring of my
+	grandfather's.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	A trifle, some eight-penny matter.
+
+Hostess	So I told him, my lord; and I said I heard your
+	grace say so: and, my lord, he speaks most vilely
+	of you, like a foul-mouthed man as he is; and said
+	he would cudgel you.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What! he did not?
+
+Hostess	There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else.
+
+FALSTAFF	There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed
+	prune; nor no more truth in thee than in a drawn
+	fox; and for womanhood, Maid Marian may be the
+	deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing,
+	go
+
+Hostess	Say, what thing? what thing?
+
+FALSTAFF	What thing! why, a thing to thank God on.
+
+Hostess	I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou
+	shouldst know it; I am an honest man's wife: and,
+	setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to
+	call me so.
+
+FALSTAFF	Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say
+	otherwise.
+
+Hostess	Say, what beast, thou knave, thou?
+
+FALSTAFF	What beast! why, an otter.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	An otter, Sir John! Why an otter?
+
+FALSTAFF	Why, she's neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not
+	where to have her.
+
+Hostess	Thou art an unjust man in saying so: thou or any
+	man knows where to have me, thou knave, thou!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Thou sayest true, hostess; and he slanders thee most grossly.
+
+Hostess	So he doth you, my lord; and said this other day you
+	ought him a thousand pound.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?
+
+FALSTAFF	A thousand pound, Ha! a million: thy love is worth
+	a million: thou owest me thy love.
+
+Hostess	Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said he would
+	cudgel you.
+
+FALSTAFF	Did I, Bardolph?
+
+BARDOLPH	Indeed, Sir John, you said so.
+
+FALSTAFF	Yea, if he said my ring was copper.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I say 'tis copper: darest thou be as good as thy word now?
+
+FALSTAFF	Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but man, I dare:
+	but as thou art prince, I fear thee as I fear the
+	roaring of a lion's whelp.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	And why not as the lion?
+
+FALSTAFF	The king is to be feared as the lion: dost thou
+	think I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? nay, an
+	I do, I pray God my girdle break.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thy
+	knees! But, sirrah, there's no room for faith,
+	truth, nor honesty in this bosom of thine; it is all
+	filled up with guts and midriff. Charge an honest
+	woman with picking thy pocket! why, thou whoreson,
+	impudent, embossed rascal, if there were anything in
+	thy pocket but tavern-reckonings, memorandums of
+	bawdy-houses, and one poor penny-worth of
+	sugar-candy to make thee long-winded, if thy pocket
+	were enriched with any other injuries but these, I
+	am a villain: and yet you will stand to if; you will
+	not pocket up wrong: art thou not ashamed?
+
+FALSTAFF	Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest in the state of
+	innocency Adam fell; and what should poor Jack
+	Falstaff do in the days of villany? Thou seest I
+	have more flesh than another man, and therefore more
+	frailty. You confess then, you picked my pocket?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	It appears so by the story.
+
+FALSTAFF	Hostess, I forgive thee: go, make ready breakfast;
+	love thy husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy
+	guests: thou shalt find me tractable to any honest
+	reason: thou seest I am pacified still. Nay,
+	prithee, be gone.
+
+	[Exit Hostess]
+
+	Now Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery,
+	lad, how is that answered?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to
+	thee: the money is paid back again.
+
+FALSTAFF	O, I do not like that paying back; 'tis a double labour.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I am good friends with my father and may do any thing.
+
+FALSTAFF	Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doest, and
+	do it with unwashed hands too.
+
+BARDOLPH	Do, my lord.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.
+
+FALSTAFF	I would it had been of horse. Where shall I find
+	one that can steal well? O for a fine thief, of the
+	age of two and twenty or thereabouts! I am
+	heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for
+	these rebels, they offend none but the virtuous: I
+	laud them, I praise them.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Bardolph!
+
+BARDOLPH	My lord?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster, to my
+	brother John; this to my Lord of Westmoreland.
+
+	[Exit Bardolph]
+
+	Go, Peto, to horse, to horse; for thou and I have
+	thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.
+
+	[Exit Peto]
+
+	Jack, meet me to-morrow in the temple hall at two
+	o'clock in the afternoon.
+	There shalt thou know thy charge; and there receive
+	Money and order for their furniture.
+	The land is burning; Percy stands on high;
+	And either we or they must lower lie.
+
+	[Exit PRINCE HENRY]
+
+FALSTAFF	Rare words! brave world! Hostess, my breakfast, come!
+	O, I could wish this tavern were my drum!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.
+
+
+	[Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, and DOUGLAS]
+
+HOTSPUR	Well said, my noble Scot: if speaking truth
+	In this fine age were not thought flattery,
+	Such attribution should the Douglas have,
+	As not a soldier of this season's stamp
+	Should go so general current through the world.
+	By God, I cannot flatter; I do defy
+	The tongues of soothers; but a braver place
+	In my heart's love hath no man than yourself:
+	Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	Thou art the king of honour:
+	No man so potent breathes upon the ground
+	But I will beard him.
+
+HOTSPUR	Do so, and 'tis well.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger with letters]
+
+	What letters hast thou there?--I can but thank you.
+
+Messenger	These letters come from your father.
+
+HOTSPUR	Letters from him! why comes he not himself?
+
+Messenger	He cannot come, my lord; he is grievous sick.
+
+HOTSPUR	'Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick
+	In such a rustling time? Who leads his power?
+	Under whose government come they along?
+
+Messenger	His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	I prithee, tell me, doth he keep his bed?
+
+Messenger	He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth;
+	And at the time of my departure thence
+	He was much fear'd by his physicians.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	I would the state of time had first been whole
+	Ere he by sickness had been visited:
+	His health was never better worth than now.
+
+HOTSPUR	Sick now! droop now! this sickness doth infect
+	The very life-blood of our enterprise;
+	'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.
+	He writes me here, that inward sickness--
+	And that his friends by deputation could not
+	So soon be drawn, nor did he think it meet
+	To lay so dangerous and dear a trust
+	On any soul removed but on his own.
+	Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,
+	That with our small conjunction we should on,
+	To see how fortune is disposed to us;
+	For, as he writes, there is no quailing now.
+	Because the king is certainly possess'd
+	Of all our purposes. What say you to it?
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	Your father's sickness is a maim to us.
+
+HOTSPUR	A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off:
+	And yet, in faith, it is not; his present want
+	Seems more than we shall find it: were it good
+	To set the exact wealth of all our states
+	All at one cast? to set so rich a main
+	On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
+	It were not good; for therein should we read
+	The very bottom and the soul of hope,
+	The very list, the very utmost bound
+	Of all our fortunes.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	'Faith, and so we should;
+	Where now remains a sweet reversion:
+	We may boldly spend upon the hope of what
+	Is to come in:
+	A comfort of retirement lives in this.
+
+HOTSPUR	A rendezvous, a home to fly unto.
+	If that the devil and mischance look big
+	Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	But yet I would your father had been here.
+	The quality and hair of our attempt
+	Brooks no division: it will be thought
+	By some, that know not why he is away,
+	That wisdom, loyalty and mere dislike
+	Of our proceedings kept the earl from hence:
+	And think how such an apprehension
+	May turn the tide of fearful faction
+	And breed a kind of question in our cause;
+	For well you know we of the offering side
+	Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement,
+	And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence
+	The eye of reason may pry in upon us:
+	This absence of your father's draws a curtain,
+	That shows the ignorant a kind of fear
+	Before not dreamt of.
+
+HOTSPUR	You strain too far.
+	I rather of his absence make this use:
+	It lends a lustre and more great opinion,
+	A larger dare to our great enterprise,
+	Than if the earl were here; for men must think,
+	If we without his help can make a head
+	To push against a kingdom, with his help
+	We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down.
+	Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	As heart can think: there is not such a word
+	Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.
+
+	[Enter SIR RICHARD VERNON]
+
+HOTSPUR	My cousin Vernon, welcome, by my soul.
+
+VERNON	Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.
+	The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong,
+	Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John.
+
+HOTSPUR	No harm: what more?
+
+VERNON	And further, I have learn'd,
+	The king himself in person is set forth,
+	Or hitherwards intended speedily,
+	With strong and mighty preparation.
+
+HOTSPUR	He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,
+	The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,
+	And his comrades, that daff'd the world aside,
+	And bid it pass?
+
+VERNON	                  All furnish'd, all in arms;
+	All plumed like estridges that with the wind
+	Baited like eagles having lately bathed;
+	Glittering in golden coats, like images;
+	As full of spirit as the month of May,
+	And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;
+	Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
+	I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,
+	His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd
+	Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury,
+	And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
+	As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds,
+	To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus
+	And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
+
+HOTSPUR	No more, no more: worse than the sun in March,
+	This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come:
+	They come like sacrifices in their trim,
+	And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war
+	All hot and bleeding will we offer them:
+	The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit
+	Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire
+	To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh
+	And yet not ours. Come, let me taste my horse,
+	Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt
+	Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales:
+	Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse,
+	Meet and ne'er part till one drop down a corse.
+	O that Glendower were come!
+
+VERNON	There is more news:
+	I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along,
+	He cannot draw his power this fourteen days.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	That's the worst tidings that I hear of yet.
+
+WORCESTER	Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.
+
+HOTSPUR	What may the king's whole battle reach unto?
+
+VERNON	To thirty thousand.
+
+HOTSPUR	Forty let it be:
+	My father and Glendower being both away,
+	The powers of us may serve so great a day
+	Come, let us take a muster speedily:
+	Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	Talk not of dying: I am out of fear
+	Of death or death's hand for this one-half year.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A public road near Coventry.
+
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH]
+
+FALSTAFF	Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a
+	bottle of sack: our soldiers shall march through;
+	we'll to Sutton Co'fil' tonight.
+
+BARDOLPH	Will you give me money, captain?
+
+FALSTAFF	Lay out, lay out.
+
+BARDOLPH	This bottle makes an angel.
+
+FALSTAFF	An if it do, take it for thy labour; and if it make
+	twenty, take them all; I'll answer the coinage. Bid
+	my lieutenant Peto meet me at town's end.
+
+BARDOLPH	I will, captain: farewell.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FALSTAFF	If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a soused
+	gurnet. I have misused the king's press damnably.
+	I have got, in exchange of a hundred and fifty
+	soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I press me
+	none but good house-holders, yeoman's sons; inquire
+	me out contracted bachelors, such as had been asked
+	twice on the banns; such a commodity of warm slaves,
+	as had as lieve hear the devil as a drum; such as
+	fear the report of a caliver worse than a struck
+	fowl or a hurt wild-duck. I pressed me none but such
+	toasts-and-butter, with hearts in their bellies no
+	bigger than pins' heads, and they have bought out
+	their services; and now my whole charge consists of
+	ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of
+	companies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the
+	painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his
+	sores; and such as indeed were never soldiers, but
+	discarded unjust serving-men, younger sons to
+	younger brothers, revolted tapsters and ostlers
+	trade-fallen, the cankers of a calm world and a
+	long peace, ten times more dishonourable ragged than
+	an old faced ancient: and such have I, to fill up
+	the rooms of them that have bought out their
+	services, that you would think that I had a hundred
+	and fifty tattered prodigals lately come from
+	swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad
+	fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded
+	all the gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye
+	hath seen such scarecrows. I'll not march through
+	Coventry with them, that's flat: nay, and the
+	villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had
+	gyves on; for indeed I had the most of them out of
+	prison. There's but a shirt and a half in all my
+	company; and the half shirt is two napkins tacked
+	together and thrown over the shoulders like an
+	herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say
+	the truth, stolen from my host at Saint Alban's, or
+	the red-nose innkeeper of Daventry. But that's all
+	one; they'll find linen enough on every hedge.
+
+	[Enter the PRINCE and WESTMORELAND]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	How now, blown Jack! how now, quilt!
+
+FALSTAFF	What, Hal! how now, mad wag! what a devil dost thou
+	in Warwickshire? My good Lord of Westmoreland, I
+	cry you mercy: I thought your honour had already been
+	at Shrewsbury.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Faith, Sir John,'tis more than time that I were
+	there, and you too; but my powers are there already.
+	The king, I can tell you, looks for us all: we must
+	away all night.
+
+FALSTAFF	Tut, never fear me: I am as vigilant as a cat to
+	steal cream.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I think, to steal cream indeed, for thy theft hath
+	already made thee butter. But tell me, Jack, whose
+	fellows are these that come after?
+
+FALSTAFF	Mine, Hal, mine.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I did never see such pitiful rascals.
+
+FALSTAFF	Tut, tut; good enough to toss; food for powder, food
+	for powder; they'll fill a pit as well as better:
+	tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor
+	and bare, too beggarly.
+
+FALSTAFF	'Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they had
+	that; and for their bareness, I am sure they never
+	learned that of me.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	No I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on
+	the ribs bare. But, sirrah, make haste: Percy is
+	already in the field.
+
+FALSTAFF	What, is the king encamped?
+
+WESTMORELAND	He is, Sir John: I fear we shall stay too long.
+
+FALSTAFF	Well,
+	To the latter end of a fray and the beginning of a feast
+	Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.
+
+
+	[Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, DOUGLAS, and VERNON]
+
+HOTSPUR	We'll fight with him to-night.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	It may not be.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	You give him then the advantage.
+
+VERNON	Not a whit.
+
+HOTSPUR	Why say you so? looks he not for supply?
+
+VERNON	So do we.
+
+HOTSPUR	        His is certain, ours is doubtful.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	Good cousin, be advised; stir not tonight.
+
+VERNON	Do not, my lord.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	                  You do not counsel well:
+	You speak it out of fear and cold heart.
+
+VERNON	Do me no slander, Douglas: by my life,
+	And I dare well maintain it with my life,
+	If well-respected honour bid me on,
+	I hold as little counsel with weak fear
+	As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives:
+	Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle
+	Which of us fears.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	                  Yea, or to-night.
+
+VERNON	Content.
+
+HOTSPUR	To-night, say I.
+
+VERNON	Come, come it nay not be. I wonder much,
+	Being men of such great leading as you are,
+	That you foresee not what impediments
+	Drag back our expedition: certain horse
+	Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up:
+	Your uncle Worcester's horse came but today;
+	And now their pride and mettle is asleep,
+	Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
+	That not a horse is half the half of himself.
+
+HOTSPUR	So are the horses of the enemy
+	In general, journey-bated and brought low:
+	The better part of ours are full of rest.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	The number of the king exceedeth ours:
+	For God's sake. cousin, stay till all come in.
+
+	[The trumpet sounds a parley]
+
+	[Enter SIR WALTER BLUNT]
+
+SIR WALTER BLUNT	I come with gracious offers from the king,
+	if you vouchsafe me hearing and respect.
+
+HOTSPUR	Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt; and would to God
+	You were of our determination!
+	Some of us love you well; and even those some
+	Envy your great deservings and good name,
+	Because you are not of our quality,
+	But stand against us like an enemy.
+
+SIR WALTER BLUNT	And God defend but still I should stand so,
+	So long as out of limit and true rule
+	You stand against anointed majesty.
+	But to my charge. The king hath sent to know
+	The nature of your griefs, and whereupon
+	You conjure from the breast of civil peace
+	Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land
+	Audacious cruelty. If that the king
+	Have any way your good deserts forgot,
+	Which he confesseth to be manifold,
+	He bids you name your griefs; and with all speed
+	You shall have your desires with interest
+	And pardon absolute for yourself and these
+	Herein misled by your suggestion.
+
+HOTSPUR	The king is kind; and well we know the king
+	Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.
+	My father and my uncle and myself
+	Did give him that same royalty he wears;
+	And when he was not six and twenty strong,
+	Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,
+	A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home,
+	My father gave him welcome to the shore;
+	And when he heard him swear and vow to God
+	He came but to be Duke of Lancaster,
+	To sue his livery and beg his peace,
+	With tears of innocency and terms of zeal,
+	My father, in kind heart and pity moved,
+	Swore him assistance and perform'd it too.
+	Now when the lords and barons of the realm
+	Perceived Northumberland did lean to him,
+	The more and less came in with cap and knee;
+	Met him in boroughs, cities, villages,
+	Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes,
+	Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their oaths,
+	Gave him their heirs, as pages follow'd him
+	Even at the heels in golden multitudes.
+	He presently, as greatness knows itself,
+	Steps me a little higher than his vow
+	Made to my father, while his blood was poor,
+	Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurgh;
+	And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform
+	Some certain edicts and some strait decrees
+	That lie too heavy on the commonwealth,
+	Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep
+	Over his country's wrongs; and by this face,
+	This seeming brow of justice, did he win
+	The hearts of all that he did angle for;
+	Proceeded further; cut me off the heads
+	Of all the favourites that the absent king
+	In deputation left behind him here,
+	When he was personal in the Irish war.
+
+SIR WALTER BLUNT	Tut, I came not to hear this.
+
+HOTSPUR	Then to the point.
+	In short time after, he deposed the king;
+	Soon after that, deprived him of his life;
+	And in the neck of that, task'd the whole state:
+	To make that worse, suffer'd his kinsman March,
+	Who is, if every owner were well placed,
+	Indeed his king, to be engaged in Wales,
+	There without ransom to lie forfeited;
+	Disgraced me in my happy victories,
+	Sought to entrap me by intelligence;
+	Rated mine uncle from the council-board;
+	In rage dismiss'd my father from the court;
+	Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong,
+	And in conclusion drove us to seek out
+	This head of safety; and withal to pry
+	Into his title, the which we find
+	Too indirect for long continuance.
+
+SIR WALTER BLUNT	Shall I return this answer to the king?
+
+HOTSPUR	Not so, Sir Walter: we'll withdraw awhile.
+	Go to the king; and let there be impawn'd
+	Some surety for a safe return again,
+	And in the morning early shall my uncle
+	Bring him our purposes: and so farewell.
+
+SIR WALTER BLUNT	I would you would accept of grace and love.
+
+HOTSPUR	And may be so we shall.
+
+SIR WALTER BLUNT	Pray God you do.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	York. The ARCHBISHOP'S palace.
+
+
+	[Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK and SIR MICHAEL]
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Hie, good Sir Michael; bear this sealed brief
+	With winged haste to the lord marshal;
+	This to my cousin Scroop, and all the rest
+	To whom they are directed. If you knew
+	How much they do to import, you would make haste.
+
+SIR MICHAEL	My good lord,
+	I guess their tenor.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Like enough you do.
+	To-morrow, good Sir Michael, is a day
+	Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men
+	Must bide the touch; for, sir, at Shrewsbury,
+	As I am truly given to understand,
+	The king with mighty and quick-raised power
+	Meets with Lord Harry: and, I fear, Sir Michael,
+	What with the sickness of Northumberland,
+	Whose power was in the first proportion,
+	And what with Owen Glendower's absence thence,
+	Who with them was a rated sinew too
+	And comes not in, o'er-ruled by prophecies,
+	I fear the power of Percy is too weak
+	To wage an instant trial with the king.
+
+SIR MICHAEL	Why, my good lord, you need not fear;
+	There is Douglas and Lord Mortimer.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	No, Mortimer is not there.
+
+SIR MICHAEL	But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy,
+	And there is my Lord of Worcester and a head
+	Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	And so there is: but yet the king hath drawn
+	The special head of all the land together:
+	The Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancaster,
+	The noble Westmoreland and warlike Blunt;
+	And moe corrivals and dear men
+	Of estimation and command in arms.
+
+SIR MICHAEL	Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well opposed.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	I hope no less, yet needful 'tis to fear;
+	And, to prevent the worst, Sir Michael, speed:
+	For if Lord Percy thrive not, ere the king
+	Dismiss his power, he means to visit us,
+	For he hath heard of our confederacy,
+	And 'tis but wisdom to make strong against him:
+	Therefore make haste. I must go write again
+	To other friends; and so farewell, Sir Michael.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	KING HENRY IV's camp near Shrewsbury.
+
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY, PRINCE HENRY, Lord John of
+	LANCASTER, EARL OF WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT,
+	and FALSTAFF]
+
+KING HENRY IV	How bloodily the sun begins to peer
+	Above yon busky hill! the day looks pale
+	At his distemperature.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	The southern wind
+	Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,
+	And by his hollow whistling in the leaves
+	Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Then with the losers let it sympathize,
+	For nothing can seem foul to those that win.
+
+	[The trumpet sounds]
+
+	[Enter WORCESTER and VERNON]
+
+	How now, my Lord of Worcester! 'tis not well
+	That you and I should meet upon such terms
+	As now we meet. You have deceived our trust,
+	And made us doff our easy robes of peace,
+	To crush our old limbs in ungentle steel:
+	This is not well, my lord, this is not well.
+	What say you to it? will you again unknit
+	This curlish knot of all-abhorred war?
+	And move in that obedient orb again
+	Where you did give a fair and natural light,
+	And be no more an exhaled meteor,
+	A prodigy of fear and a portent
+	Of broached mischief to the unborn times?
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	Hear me, my liege:
+	For mine own part, I could be well content
+	To entertain the lag-end of my life
+	With quiet hours; for I do protest,
+	I have not sought the day of this dislike.
+
+KING HENRY IV	You have not sought it! how comes it, then?
+
+FALSTAFF	Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Peace, chewet, peace!
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	It pleased your majesty to turn your looks
+	Of favour from myself and all our house;
+	And yet I must remember you, my lord,
+	We were the first and dearest of your friends.
+	For you my staff of office did I break
+	In Richard's time; and posted day and night
+	to meet you on the way, and kiss your hand,
+	When yet you were in place and in account
+	Nothing so strong and fortunate as I.
+	It was myself, my brother and his son,
+	That brought you home and boldly did outdare
+	The dangers of the time. You swore to us,
+	And you did swear that oath at Doncaster,
+	That you did nothing purpose 'gainst the state;
+	Nor claim no further than your new-fall'n right,
+	The seat of Gaunt, dukedom of Lancaster:
+	To this we swore our aid. But in short space
+	It rain'd down fortune showering on your head;
+	And such a flood of greatness fell on you,
+	What with our help, what with the absent king,
+	What with the injuries of a wanton time,
+	The seeming sufferances that you had borne,
+	And the contrarious winds that held the king
+	So long in his unlucky Irish wars
+	That all in England did repute him dead:
+	And from this swarm of fair advantages
+	You took occasion to be quickly woo'd
+	To gripe the general sway into your hand;
+	Forget your oath to us at Doncaster;
+	And being fed by us you used us so
+	As that ungentle hull, the cuckoo's bird,
+	Useth the sparrow; did oppress our nest;
+	Grew by our feeding to so great a bulk
+	That even our love durst not come near your sight
+	For fear of swallowing; but with nimble wing
+	We were enforced, for safety sake, to fly
+	Out of sight and raise this present head;
+	Whereby we stand opposed by such means
+	As you yourself have forged against yourself
+	By unkind usage, dangerous countenance,
+	And violation of all faith and troth
+	Sworn to us in your younger enterprise.
+
+KING HENRY IV	These things indeed you have articulate,
+	Proclaim'd at market-crosses, read in churches,
+	To face the garment of rebellion
+	With some fine colour that may please the eye
+	Of fickle changelings and poor discontents,
+	Which gape and rub the elbow at the news
+	Of hurlyburly innovation:
+	And never yet did insurrection want
+	Such water-colours to impaint his cause;
+	Nor moody beggars, starving for a time
+	Of pellmell havoc and confusion.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	In both your armies there is many a soul
+	Shall pay full dearly for this encounter,
+	If once they join in trial. Tell your nephew,
+	The Prince of Wales doth join with all the world
+	In praise of Henry Percy: by my hopes,
+	This present enterprise set off his head,
+	I do not think a braver gentleman,
+	More active-valiant or more valiant-young,
+	More daring or more bold, is now alive
+	To grace this latter age with noble deeds.
+	For my part, I may speak it to my shame,
+	I have a truant been to chivalry;
+	And so I hear he doth account me too;
+	Yet this before my father's majesty--
+	I am content that he shall take the odds
+	Of his great name and estimation,
+	And will, to save the blood on either side,
+	Try fortune with him in a single fight.
+
+KING HENRY IV	And, Prince of Wales, so dare we venture thee,
+	Albeit considerations infinite
+	Do make against it. No, good Worcester, no,
+	We love our people well; even those we love
+	That are misled upon your cousin's part;
+	And, will they take the offer of our grace,
+	Both he and they and you, every man
+	Shall be my friend again and I'll be his:
+	So tell your cousin, and bring me word
+	What he will do: but if he will not yield,
+	Rebuke and dread correction wait on us
+	And they shall do their office. So, be gone;
+	We will not now be troubled with reply:
+	We offer fair; take it advisedly.
+
+	[Exeunt WORCESTER and VERNON]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	It will not be accepted, on my life:
+	The Douglas and the Hotspur both together
+	Are confident against the world in arms.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Hence, therefore, every leader to his charge;
+	For, on their answer, will we set on them:
+	And God befriend us, as our cause is just!
+
+	[Exeunt all but PRINCE HENRY and FALSTAFF]
+
+FALSTAFF	Hal, if thou see me down in the battle and bestride
+	me, so; 'tis a point of friendship.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship.
+	Say thy prayers, and farewell.
+
+FALSTAFF	I  would 'twere bed-time, Hal, and all well.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Why, thou owest God a death.
+
+	[Exit PRINCE HENRY]
+
+FALSTAFF	'Tis not due yet; I would be loath to pay him before
+	his day. What need I be so forward with him that
+	calls not on me? Well, 'tis no matter; honour pricks
+	me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I
+	come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or
+	an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no.
+	Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is
+	honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what
+	is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it?
+	he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no.
+	Doth he hear it? no. 'Tis insensible, then. Yea,
+	to the dead. But will it not live with the living?
+	no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore
+	I'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon: and so
+	ends my catechism.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The rebel camp.
+
+
+	[Enter WORCESTER and VERNON]
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	O, no, my nephew must not know, Sir Richard,
+	The liberal and kind offer of the king.
+
+VERNON	'Twere best he did.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	Then are we all undone.
+	It is not possible, it cannot be,
+	The king should keep his word in loving us;
+	He will suspect us still and find a time
+	To punish this offence in other faults:
+	Suspicion all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes;
+	For treason is but trusted like the fox,
+	Who, ne'er so tame, so cherish'd and lock'd up,
+	Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.
+	Look how we can, or sad or merrily,
+	Interpretation will misquote our looks,
+	And we shall feed like oxen at a stall,
+	The better cherish'd, still the nearer death.
+	My nephew's trespass may be well forgot;
+	it hath the excuse of youth and heat of blood,
+	And an adopted name of privilege,
+	A hair-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a spleen:
+	All his offences live upon my head
+	And on his father's; we did train him on,
+	And, his corruption being ta'en from us,
+	We, as the spring of all, shall pay for all.
+	Therefore, good cousin, let not Harry know,
+	In any case, the offer of the king.
+
+VERNON	Deliver what you will; I'll say 'tis so.
+	Here comes your cousin.
+
+	[Enter HOTSPUR and DOUGLAS]
+
+HOTSPUR	My uncle is return'd:
+	Deliver up my Lord of Westmoreland.
+	Uncle, what news?
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	The king will bid you battle presently.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	Defy him by the Lord of Westmoreland.
+
+HOTSPUR	Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	Marry, and shall, and very willingly.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	There is no seeming mercy in the king.
+
+HOTSPUR	Did you beg any? God forbid!
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	I told him gently of our grievances,
+	Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus,
+	By now forswearing that he is forsworn:
+	He calls us rebels, traitors; and will scourge
+	With haughty arms this hateful name in us.
+
+	[Re-enter the EARL OF DOUGLAS]
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	Arm, gentlemen; to arms! for I have thrown
+	A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth,
+	And Westmoreland, that was engaged, did bear it;
+	Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	The Prince of Wales stepp'd forth before the king,
+	And, nephew, challenged you to single fight.
+
+HOTSPUR	O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,
+	And that no man might draw short breath today
+	But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,
+	How show'd his tasking? seem'd it in contempt?
+
+VERNON	No, by my soul; I never in my life
+	Did hear a challenge urged more modestly,
+	Unless a brother should a brother dare
+	To gentle exercise and proof of arms.
+	He gave you all the duties of a man;
+	Trimm'd up your praises with a princely tongue,
+	Spoke to your deservings like a chronicle,
+	Making you ever better than his praise
+	By still dispraising praise valued in you;
+	And, which became him like a prince indeed,
+	He made a blushing cital of himself;
+	And chid his truant youth with such a grace
+	As if he master'd there a double spirit.
+	Of teaching and of learning instantly.
+	There did he pause: but let me tell the world,
+	If he outlive the envy of this day,
+	England did never owe so sweet a hope,
+	So much misconstrued in his wantonness.
+
+HOTSPUR	Cousin, I think thou art enamoured
+	On his follies: never did I hear
+	Of any prince so wild a libertine.
+	But be he as he will, yet once ere night
+	I will embrace him with a soldier's arm,
+	That he shall shrink under my courtesy.
+	Arm, arm with speed: and, fellows, soldiers, friends,
+	Better consider what you have to do
+	Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue,
+	Can lift your blood up with persuasion.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	My lord, here are letters for you.
+
+HOTSPUR	I cannot read them now.
+	O gentlemen, the time of life is short!
+	To spend that shortness basely were too long,
+	If life did ride upon a dial's point,
+	Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
+	An if we live, we live to tread on kings;
+	If die, brave death, when princes die with us!
+	Now, for our consciences, the arms are fair,
+	When the intent of bearing them is just.
+
+	[Enter another Messenger]
+
+Messenger	My lord, prepare; the king comes on apace.
+
+HOTSPUR	I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale,
+	For I profess not talking; only this--
+	Let each man do his best: and here draw I
+	A sword, whose temper I intend to stain
+	With the best blood that I can meet withal
+	In the adventure of this perilous day.
+	Now, Esperance! Percy! and set on.
+	Sound all the lofty instruments of war,
+	And by that music let us all embrace;
+	For, heaven to earth, some of us never shall
+	A second time do such a courtesy.
+
+	[The trumpets sound. They embrace, and exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Plain between the camps.
+
+
+	[KING HENRY enters with his power. Alarum to the
+	battle. Then enter DOUGLAS and SIR WALTER BLUNT]
+
+SIR WALTER BLUNT	What is thy name, that in the battle thus
+	Thou crossest me? what honour dost thou seek
+	Upon my head?
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	                  Know then, my name is Douglas;
+	And I do haunt thee in the battle thus
+	Because some tell me that thou art a king.
+
+SIR WALTER BLUNT	They tell thee true.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	The Lord of Stafford dear to-day hath bought
+	Thy likeness, for instead of thee, King Harry,
+	This sword hath ended him: so shall it thee,
+	Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.
+
+SIR WALTER BLUNT	I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot;
+	And thou shalt find a king that will revenge
+	Lord Stafford's death.
+
+	[They fight. DOUGLAS kills SIR WALTER BLUNT.
+	Enter HOTSPUR]
+
+HOTSPUR	O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,
+	never had triumph'd upon a Scot.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	All's done, all's won; here breathless lies the king.
+
+HOTSPUR	Where?
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	Here.
+
+HOTSPUR	This, Douglas? no: I know this face full well:
+	A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt;
+	Semblably furnish'd like the king himself.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes!
+	A borrow'd title hast thou bought too dear:
+	Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king?
+
+HOTSPUR	The king hath many marching in his coats.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats;
+	I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,
+	Until I meet the king.
+
+HOTSPUR	Up, and away!
+	Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Alarum. Enter FALSTAFF, solus]
+
+FALSTAFF	Though I could 'scape shot-free at London, I fear
+	the shot here; here's no scoring but upon the pate.
+	Soft! who are you? Sir Walter Blunt: there's honour
+	for you! here's no vanity! I am as hot as moulten
+	lead, and as heavy too: God keep lead out of me! I
+	need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have
+	led my ragamuffins where they are peppered: there's
+	not three of my hundred and fifty left alive; and
+	they are for the town's end, to beg during life.
+	But who comes here?
+
+	[Enter PRINCE HENRY]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What, stand'st thou idle here? lend me thy sword:
+	Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff
+	Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,
+	Whose deaths are yet unrevenged: I prithee,
+	lend me thy sword.
+
+FALSTAFF	O Hal, I prithee, give me leave to breathe awhile.
+	Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms as I have
+	done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him sure.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	He is, indeed; and living to kill thee. I prithee,
+	lend me thy sword.
+
+FALSTAFF	Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st
+	not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Give it to me: what, is it in the case?
+
+FALSTAFF	Ay, Hal; 'tis hot, 'tis hot; there's that will sack a city.
+
+	[PRINCE HENRY draws it out, and finds it to be a
+	bottle of sack]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What, is it a time to jest and dally now?
+
+	[He throws the bottle at him. Exit]
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If he do
+	come in my way, so: if he do not, if I come in his
+	willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. I like
+	not such grinning honour as Sir Walter hath: give me
+	life: which if I can save, so; if not, honour comes
+	unlooked for, and there's an end.
+
+	[Exit FALSTAFF]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Excursions. Enter PRINCE HENRY, LORD JOHN
+	OF LANCASTER, and EARL OF WESTMORELAND]
+
+KING HENRY IV	I prithee,
+	Harry, withdraw thyself; thou bleed'st too much.
+	Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.
+
+LANCASTER	Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I beseech your majesty, make up,
+	Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.
+
+KING HENRY IV	I will do so.
+	My Lord of Westmoreland, lead him to his tent.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your tent.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help:
+	And God forbid a shallow scratch should drive
+	The Prince of Wales from such a field as this,
+	Where stain'd nobility lies trodden on,
+	and rebels' arms triumph in massacres!
+
+LANCASTER	We breathe too long: come, cousin Westmoreland,
+	Our duty this way lies; for God's sake come.
+
+	[Exeunt LANCASTER and WESTMORELAND]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	By God, thou hast deceived me, Lancaster;
+	I did not think thee lord of such a spirit:
+	Before, I loved thee as a brother, John;
+	But now, I do respect thee as my soul.
+
+KING HENRY IV	I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point
+	With lustier maintenance than I did look for
+	Of such an ungrown warrior.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	O, this boy
+	Lends mettle to us all!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter DOUGLAS]
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	Another king! they grow like Hydra's heads:
+	I am the Douglas, fatal to all those
+	That wear those colours on them: what art thou,
+	That counterfeit'st the person of a king?
+
+KING HENRY IV	The king himself; who, Douglas, grieves at heart
+	So many of his shadows thou hast met
+	And not the very king. I have two boys
+	Seek Percy and thyself about the field:
+	But, seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily,
+	I will assay thee: so, defend thyself.
+
+EARL OF DOUGLAS	I fear thou art another counterfeit;
+	And yet, in faith, thou bear'st thee like a king:
+	But mine I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be,
+	And thus I win thee.
+
+	[They fight. KING HENRY being in danger, PRINCE
+	HENRY enters]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like
+	Never to hold it up again! the spirits
+	Of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms:
+	It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee;
+	Who never promiseth but he means to pay.
+
+	[They fight: DOUGLAS flies]
+
+	Cheerly, my lord	how fares your grace?
+	Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succor sent,
+	And so hath Clifton: I'll to Clifton straight.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Stay, and breathe awhile:
+	Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion,
+	And show'd thou makest some tender of my life,
+	In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	O God! they did me too much injury
+	That ever said I hearken'd for your death.
+	If it were so, I might have let alone
+	The insulting hand of Douglas over you,
+	Which would have been as speedy in your end
+	As all the poisonous potions in the world
+	And saved the treacherous labour of your son.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Make up to Clifton: I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter HOTSPUR]
+
+HOTSPUR	If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name.
+
+HOTSPUR	My name is Harry Percy.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Why, then I see
+	A very valiant rebel of the name.
+	I am the Prince of Wales; and think not, Percy,
+	To share with me in glory any more:
+	Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere;
+	Nor can one England brook a double reign,
+	Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales.
+
+HOTSPUR	Nor shall it, Harry; for the hour is come
+	To end the one of us; and would to God
+	Thy name in arms were now as great as mine!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I'll make it greater ere I part from thee;
+	And all the budding honours on thy crest
+	I'll crop, to make a garland for my head.
+
+HOTSPUR	I can no longer brook thy vanities.
+
+	[They fight]
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF]
+
+FALSTAFF	Well said, Hal! to it Hal! Nay, you shall find no
+	boy's play here, I can tell you.
+
+	[Re-enter DOUGLAS; he fights with FALSTAFF,
+	who falls down as if he were dead, and exit
+	DOUGLAS. HOTSPUR is wounded, and falls]
+
+HOTSPUR	O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth!
+	I better brook the loss of brittle life
+	Than those proud titles thou hast won of me;
+	They wound my thoughts worse than sword my flesh:
+	But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool;
+	And time, that takes survey of all the world,
+	Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy,
+	But that the earthy and cold hand of death
+	Lies on my tongue: no, Percy, thou art dust
+	And food for--
+
+	[Dies]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	For worms, brave Percy: fare thee well, great heart!
+	Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk!
+	When that this body did contain a spirit,
+	A kingdom for it was too small a bound;
+	But now two paces of the vilest earth
+	Is room enough: this earth that bears thee dead
+	Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.
+	If thou wert sensible of courtesy,
+	I should not make so dear a show of zeal:
+	But let my favours hide thy mangled face;
+	And, even in thy behalf, I'll thank myself
+	For doing these fair rites of tenderness.
+	Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!
+	Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,
+	But not remember'd in thy epitaph!
+
+	[He spieth FALSTAFF on the ground]
+
+	What, old acquaintance! could not all this flesh
+	Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell!
+	I could have better spared a better man:
+	O, I should have a heavy miss of thee,
+	If I were much in love with vanity!
+	Death hath not struck so fat a deer to-day,
+	Though many dearer, in this bloody fray.
+	Embowell'd will I see thee by and by:
+	Till then in blood by noble Percy lie.
+
+	[Exit PRINCE HENRY]
+
+FALSTAFF	[Rising up]  Embowelled! if thou embowel me to-day,
+	I'll give you leave to powder me and eat me too
+	to-morrow. 'Sblood,'twas time to counterfeit, or
+	that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too.
+	Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counterfeit: to die,
+	is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the
+	counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man:
+	but to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby
+	liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and
+	perfect image of life indeed. The better part of
+	valour is discretion; in the which better part I
+	have saved my life.'Zounds, I am afraid of this
+	gunpowder Percy, though he be dead: how, if he
+	should counterfeit too and rise? by my faith, I am
+	afraid he would prove the better counterfeit.
+	Therefore I'll make him sure; yea, and I'll swear I
+	killed him. Why may not he rise as well as I?
+	Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me.
+	Therefore, sirrah,
+
+	[Stabbing him]
+
+	with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me.
+
+	[Takes up HOTSPUR on his back]
+
+	[Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Come, brother John; full bravely hast thou flesh'd
+	Thy maiden sword.
+
+LANCASTER	                  But, soft! whom have we here?
+	Did you not tell me this fat man was dead?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I did; I saw him dead,
+	Breathless and bleeding on the ground. Art
+	thou alive?
+	Or is it fantasy that plays upon our eyesight?
+	I prithee, speak; we will not trust our eyes
+	Without our ears: thou art not what thou seem'st.
+
+FALSTAFF	No, that's certain; I am not a double man: but if I
+	be not Jack Falstaff, then am I a Jack. There is Percy:
+
+	[Throwing the body down]
+
+	if your father will do me any honour, so; if not, let
+	him kill the next Percy himself. I look to be either
+	earl or duke, I can assure you.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Why, Percy I killed myself and saw thee dead.
+
+FALSTAFF	Didst thou? Lord, Lord, how this world is given to
+	lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath;
+	and so was he: but we rose both at an instant and
+	fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. If I may be
+	believed, so; if not, let them that should reward
+	valour bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll take
+	it upon my death, I gave him this wound in the
+	thigh: if the man were alive and would deny it,
+	'zounds, I would make him eat a piece of my sword.
+
+LANCASTER	This is the strangest tale that ever I heard.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	This is the strangest fellow, brother John.
+	Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back:
+	For my part, if a lie may do thee grace,
+	I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
+
+	[A retreat is sounded]
+
+	The trumpet sounds retreat; the day is ours.
+	Come, brother, let us to the highest of the field,
+	To see what friends are living, who are dead.
+
+	[Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and LANCASTER]
+
+FALSTAFF	I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that
+	rewards me, God reward him! If I do grow great,
+	I'll grow less; for I'll purge, and leave sack, and
+	live cleanly as a nobleman should do.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[The trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE
+	HENRY, LORD JOHN LANCASTER, EARL OF WESTMORELAND,
+	with WORCESTER and VERNON prisoners]
+
+KING HENRY IV	Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.
+	Ill-spirited Worcester! did not we send grace,
+	Pardon and terms of love to all of you?
+	And wouldst thou turn our offers contrary?
+	Misuse the tenor of thy kinsman's trust?
+	Three knights upon our party slain to-day,
+	A noble earl and many a creature else
+	Had been alive this hour,
+	If like a Christian thou hadst truly borne
+	Betwixt our armies true intelligence.
+
+EARL OF WORCESTER	What I have done my safety urged me to;
+	And I embrace this fortune patiently,
+	Since not to be avoided it falls on me.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Bear Worcester to the death and Vernon too:
+	Other offenders we will pause upon.
+
+	[Exeunt WORCESTER and VERNON, guarded]
+
+	How goes the field?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he saw
+	The fortune of the day quite turn'd from him,
+	The noble Percy slain, and all his men
+	Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest;
+	And falling from a hill, he was so bruised
+	That the pursuers took him. At my tent
+	The Douglas is; and I beseech your grace
+	I may dispose of him.
+
+KING HENRY IV	With all my heart.
+
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Then, brother John of Lancaster, to you
+	This honourable bounty shall belong:
+	Go to the Douglas, and deliver him
+	Up to his pleasure, ransomless and free:
+	His valour shown upon our crests to-day
+	Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds
+	Even in the bosom of our adversaries.
+
+LANCASTER	I thank your grace for this high courtesy,
+	Which I shall give away immediately.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Then this remains, that we divide our power.
+	You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland
+	Towards York shall bend you with your dearest speed,
+	To meet Northumberland and the prelate Scroop,
+	Who, as we hear, are busily in arms:
+	Myself and you, son Harry, will towards Wales,
+	To fight with Glendower and the Earl of March.
+	Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway,
+	Meeting the cheque of such another day:
+	And since this business so fair is done,
+	Let us not leave till all our own be won.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+KING
+HENRY THE SIXTH	(KING HENRY VI:)
+
+DUKE OF GLOUCESTER	uncle to the King, and Protector. (GLOUCESTER:)
+
+DUKE OF BEDFORD	uncle to the King, and Regent of France. (BEDFORD:)
+
+THOMAS BEAUFORT	Duke of Exeter, great-uncle to the King. (EXETER:)
+
+HENRY BEAUFORT	great-uncle to the King, Bishop of Winchester, and
+	afterwards Cardinal. (BISHOP OF WINCHESTER:)
+
+JOHN BEAUFORT	Earl, afterwards Duke, of Somerset. (SOMERSET:)
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	son of Richard late Earl of Cambridge, (RICHARD
+	PLANTAGENET:)  afterwards Duke of York.
+	(YORK:)
+
+EARL OF WARWICK	(WARWICK:)
+
+EARL OF SALISBURY	(SALISBURY:)
+
+EARL OF SUFFOLK	(SUFFOLK:)
+
+LORD TALBOT	afterwards Earl of Shrewsbury. (TALBOT:)
+
+JOHN TALBOT	Lord Talbot's son.
+
+EDMUND MORTIMER	Earl of March. (MORTIMER:)
+
+SIR JOHN FASTOLFE	(FASTOLFE:)
+
+SIR WILLIAM LUCY	(LUCY:)
+
+SIR
+WILLIAM GLANSDALE	(GLANDSDALE:)
+
+SIR
+THOMAS GARGRAVE	(GARGRAVE:)
+
+Mayor of London	(Mayor:)
+
+WOODVILE	Lieutenant of the Tower.
+
+VERNON	of the White-Rose or York faction.
+
+BASSET	of the Red-Rose or Lancaster faction.
+
+	A Lawyer. (Lawyer:)
+
+	Mortimer's Keepers. (First Gaoler:)
+
+CHARLES	Dauphin, and afterwards King, of France.
+
+REIGNIER	Duke of Anjou, and titular King of Naples.
+
+DUKE OF BURGUNDY	(BURGUNDY:)
+
+DUKE OF ALENCON	(ALENCON:)
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS:
+
+	Governor of Paris.
+
+	Master-Gunner of Orleans, (Master-Gunner:)
+	and his Son. (Boy:)
+
+	General of the French forces in Bourdeaux. (General:)
+
+	A French Sergeant. (Sargeant:)
+
+	A Porter.
+
+	An old Shepherd, father to Joan la Pucelle. (Shepherd:)
+
+MARGARET	daughter to Reignier, afterwards married to King Henry.
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE:
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	commonly called Joan of Arc.
+
+	Lords, Warders of the Tower, Heralds, Officers,
+	Soldiers, Messengers, and Attendants.
+	(First Warder:)
+	(Second Warder:)
+	(Captain:)
+	(Officer:)
+	(Soldier:)
+	(First Soldier:)
+	(Watch:)
+	(Scout:)
+	(First Sentinel:)
+	(Servant:)
+	(First Serving-Man:)
+	(Second Serving-Man:)
+	(Third Serving-Man:)
+
+	Fiends appearing to La Pucelle.
+
+
+SCENE	Partly in England, and partly in France.
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Westminster Abbey.
+
+
+	[Dead March. Enter the Funeral of KING HENRY the
+	Fifth, attended on by Dukes of BEDFORD, Regent of
+	France; GLOUCESTER, Protector; and EXETER, Earl of
+	WARWICK, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, Heralds, &c]
+
+BEDFORD	Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!
+	Comets, importing change of times and states,
+	Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,
+	And with them scourge the bad revolting stars
+	That have consented unto Henry's death!
+	King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long!
+	England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.
+
+GLOUCESTER	England ne'er had a king until his time.
+	Virtue he had, deserving to command:
+	His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams:
+	His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings;
+	His sparking eyes, replete with wrathful fire,
+	More dazzled and drove back his enemies
+	Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces.
+	What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech:
+	He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered.
+
+EXETER	We mourn in black: why mourn we not in blood?
+	Henry is dead and never shall revive:
+	Upon a wooden coffin we attend,
+	And death's dishonourable victory
+	We with our stately presence glorify,
+	Like captives bound to a triumphant car.
+	What! shall we curse the planets of mishap
+	That plotted thus our glory's overthrow?
+	Or shall we think the subtle-witted French
+	Conjurers and sorcerers, that afraid of him
+	By magic verses have contrived his end?
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	He was a king bless'd of the King of kings.
+	Unto the French the dreadful judgement-day
+	So dreadful will not be as was his sight.
+	The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought:
+	The church's prayers made him so prosperous.
+
+GLOUCESTER	The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd,
+	His thread of life had not so soon decay'd:
+	None do you like but an effeminate prince,
+	Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art protector
+	And lookest to command the prince and realm.
+	Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe,
+	More than God or religious churchmen may.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Name not religion, for thou lovest the flesh,
+	And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st
+	Except it be to pray against thy foes.
+
+BEDFORD	Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace:
+	Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us:
+	Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms:
+	Since arms avail not now that Henry's dead.
+	Posterity, await for wretched years,
+	When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall suck,
+	Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears,
+	And none but women left to wail the dead.
+	Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate:
+	Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils,
+	Combat with adverse planets in the heavens!
+	A far more glorious star thy soul will make
+	Than Julius Caesar or bright--
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	My honourable lords, health to you all!
+	Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
+	Of loss, of slaughter and discomfiture:
+	Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans,
+	Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost.
+
+BEDFORD	What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse?
+	Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns
+	Will make him burst his lead and rise from death.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Is Paris lost? is Rouen yielded up?
+	If Henry were recall'd to life again,
+	These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.
+
+EXETER	How were they lost? what treachery was used?
+
+Messenger	No treachery; but want of men and money.
+	Amongst the soldiers this is muttered,
+	That here you maintain several factions,
+	And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought,
+	You are disputing of your generals:
+	One would have lingering wars with little cost;
+	Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings;
+	A third thinks, without expense at all,
+	By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd.
+	Awake, awake, English nobility!
+	Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot:
+	Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms;
+	Of England's coat one half is cut away.
+
+EXETER	Were our tears wanting to this funeral,
+	These tidings would call forth their flowing tides.
+
+BEDFORD	Me they concern; Regent I am of France.
+	Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France.
+	Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!
+	Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes,
+	To weep their intermissive miseries.
+
+	[Enter to them another Messenger]
+
+Messenger	Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance.
+	France is revolted from the English quite,
+	Except some petty towns of no import:
+	The Dauphin Charles is crowned king of Rheims;
+	The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd;
+	Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part;
+	The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side.
+
+EXETER	The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him!
+	O, whither shall we fly from this reproach?
+
+GLOUCESTER	We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats.
+	Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out.
+
+BEDFORD	Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness?
+	An army have I muster'd in my thoughts,
+	Wherewith already France is overrun.
+
+	[Enter another Messenger]
+
+Messenger	My gracious lords, to add to your laments,
+	Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse,
+	I must inform you of a dismal fight
+	Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so?
+
+Messenger	O, no; wherein Lord Talbot was o'erthrown:
+	The circumstance I'll tell you more at large.
+	The tenth of August last this dreadful lord,
+	Retiring from the siege of Orleans,
+	Having full scarce six thousand in his troop.
+	By three and twenty thousand of the French
+	Was round encompassed and set upon.
+	No leisure had he to enrank his men;
+	He wanted pikes to set before his archers;
+	Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges
+	They pitched in the ground confusedly,
+	To keep the horsemen off from breaking in.
+	More than three hours the fight continued;
+	Where valiant Talbot above human thought
+	Enacted wonders with his sword and lance:
+	Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him;
+	Here, there, and every where, enraged he flew:
+	The French exclaim'd, the devil was in arms;
+	All the whole army stood agazed on him:
+	His soldiers spying his undaunted spirit
+	A Talbot! a Talbot! cried out amain
+	And rush'd into the bowels of the battle.
+	Here had the conquest fully been seal'd up,
+	If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the coward:
+	He, being in the vaward, placed behind
+	With purpose to relieve and follow them,
+	Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke.
+	Hence grew the general wreck and massacre;
+	Enclosed were they with their enemies:
+	A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace,
+	Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back,
+	Whom all France with their chief assembled strength
+	Durst not presume to look once in the face.
+
+BEDFORD	Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself,
+	For living idly here in pomp and ease,
+	Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid,
+	Unto his dastard foemen is betray'd.
+
+Messenger	O no, he lives; but is took prisoner,
+	And Lord Scales with him and Lord Hungerford:
+	Most of the rest slaughter'd or took likewise.
+
+BEDFORD	His ransom there is none but I shall pay:
+	I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne:
+	His crown shall be the ransom of my friend;
+	Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours.
+	Farewell, my masters; to my task will I;
+	Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make,
+	To keep our great Saint George's feast withal:
+	Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take,
+	Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake.
+
+Messenger	So you had need; for Orleans is besieged;
+	The English army is grown weak and faint:
+	The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply,
+	And hardly keeps his men from mutiny,
+	Since they, so few, watch such a multitude.
+
+EXETER	Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn,
+	Either to quell the Dauphin utterly,
+	Or bring him in obedience to your yoke.
+
+BEDFORD	I do remember it; and here take my leave,
+	To go about my preparation.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+GLOUCESTER	I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can,
+	To view the artillery and munition;
+	And then I will proclaim young Henry king.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+EXETER	To Eltham will I, where the young king is,
+	Being ordain'd his special governor,
+	And for his safety there I'll best devise.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Each hath his place and function to attend:
+	I am left out; for me nothing remains.
+	But long I will not be Jack out of office:
+	The king from Eltham I intend to steal
+	And sit at chiefest stern of public weal.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	France. Before Orleans.
+
+
+	[Sound a flourish. Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and
+	REIGNIER, marching with drum and Soldiers]
+
+CHARLES	Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens
+	So in the earth, to this day is not known:
+	Late did he shine upon the English side;
+	Now we are victors; upon us he smiles.
+	What towns of any moment but we have?
+	At pleasure here we lie near Orleans;
+	Otherwhiles the famish'd English, like pale ghosts,
+	Faintly besiege us one hour in a month.
+
+ALENCON	They want their porridge and their fat bull-beeves:
+	Either they must be dieted like mules
+	And have their provender tied to their mouths
+	Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice.
+
+REIGNIER	Let's raise the siege: why live we idly here?
+	Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear:
+	Remaineth none but mad-brain'd Salisbury;
+	And he may well in fretting spend his gall,
+	Nor men nor money hath he to make war.
+
+CHARLES	Sound, sound alarum! we will rush on them.
+	Now for the honour of the forlorn French!
+	Him I forgive my death that killeth me
+	When he sees me go back one foot or fly.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Here alarum; they are beaten back by the English
+	with great loss. Re-enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER]
+
+CHARLES	Who ever saw the like? what men have I!
+	Dogs! cowards! dastards! I would ne'er have fled,
+	But that they left me 'midst my enemies.
+
+REIGNIER	Salisbury is a desperate homicide;
+	He fighteth as one weary of his life.
+	The other lords, like lions wanting food,
+	Do rush upon us as their hungry prey.
+
+ALENCON	Froissart, a countryman of ours, records,
+	England all Olivers and Rowlands bred,
+	During the time Edward the Third did reign.
+	More truly now may this be verified;
+	For none but Samsons and Goliases
+	It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten!
+	Lean, raw-boned rascals! who would e'er suppose
+	They had such courage and audacity?
+
+CHARLES	Let's leave this town; for they are hare-brain'd slaves,
+	And hunger will enforce them to be more eager:
+	Of old I know them; rather with their teeth
+	The walls they'll tear down than forsake the siege.
+
+REIGNIER	I think, by some odd gimmors or device
+	Their arms are set like clocks, stiff to strike on;
+	Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do.
+	By my consent, we'll even let them alone.
+
+ALENCON	Be it so.
+
+	[Enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS]
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him.
+
+CHARLES	Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us.
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd:
+	Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence?
+	Be not dismay'd, for succor is at hand:
+	A holy maid hither with me I bring,
+	Which by a vision sent to her from heaven
+	Ordained is to raise this tedious siege
+	And drive the English forth the bounds of France.
+	The spirit of deep prophecy she hath,
+	Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome:
+	What's past and what's to come she can descry.
+	Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words,
+	For they are certain and unfallible.
+
+CHARLES	Go, call her in.
+
+	[Exit BASTARD OF ORLEANS]
+
+	But first, to try her skill,
+	Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place:
+	Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern:
+	By this means shall we sound what skill she hath.
+
+	[Re-enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, with JOAN LA PUCELLE]
+
+REIGNIER	Fair maid, is't thou wilt do these wondrous feats?
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me?
+	Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind;
+	I know thee well, though never seen before.
+	Be not amazed, there's nothing hid from me:
+	In private will I talk with thee apart.
+	Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile.
+
+REIGNIER	She takes upon her bravely at first dash.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter,
+	My wit untrain'd in any kind of art.
+	Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleased
+	To shine on my contemptible estate:
+	Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs,
+	And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks,
+	God's mother deigned to appear to me
+	And in a vision full of majesty
+	Will'd me to leave my base vocation
+	And free my country from calamity:
+	Her aid she promised and assured success:
+	In complete glory she reveal'd herself;
+	And, whereas I was black and swart before,
+	With those clear rays which she infused on me
+	That beauty am I bless'd with which you see.
+	Ask me what question thou canst possible,
+	And I will answer unpremeditated:
+	My courage try by combat, if thou darest,
+	And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex.
+	Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate,
+	If thou receive me for thy warlike mate.
+
+CHARLES	Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high terms:
+	Only this proof I'll of thy valour make,
+	In single combat thou shalt buckle with me,
+	And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true;
+	Otherwise I renounce all confidence.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	I am prepared: here is my keen-edged sword,
+	Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side;
+	The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's
+	churchyard,
+	Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth.
+
+CHARLES	Then come, o' God's name; I fear no woman.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man.
+
+	[Here they fight, and JOAN LA PUCELLE overcomes]
+
+CHARLES	Stay, stay thy hands! thou art an Amazon
+	And fightest with the sword of Deborah.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak.
+
+CHARLES	Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me:
+	Impatiently I burn with thy desire;
+	My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued.
+	Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so,
+	Let me thy servant and not sovereign be:
+	'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	I must not yield to any rites of love,
+	For my profession's sacred from above:
+	When I have chased all thy foes from hence,
+	Then will I think upon a recompense.
+
+CHARLES	Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall.
+
+REIGNIER	My lord, methinks, is very long in talk.
+
+ALENCON	Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock;
+	Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech.
+
+REIGNIER	Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean?
+
+ALENCON	He may mean more than we poor men do know:
+	These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues.
+
+REIGNIER	My lord, where are you? what devise you on?
+	Shall we give over Orleans, or no?
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants!
+	Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard.
+
+CHARLES	What she says I'll confirm: we'll fight it out.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Assign'd am I to be the English scourge.
+	This night the siege assuredly I'll raise:
+	Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days,
+	Since I have entered into these wars.
+	Glory is like a circle in the water,
+	Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself
+	Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought.
+	With Henry's death the English circle ends;
+	Dispersed are the glories it included.
+	Now am I like that proud insulting ship
+	Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once.
+
+CHARLES	Was Mahomet inspired with a dove?
+	Thou with an eagle art inspired then.
+	Helen, the mother of great Constantine,
+	Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters, were like thee.
+	Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the earth,
+	How may I reverently worship thee enough?
+
+ALENCON	Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege.
+
+REIGNIER	Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours;
+	Drive them from Orleans and be immortalized.
+
+CHARLES	Presently we'll try: come, let's away about it:
+	No prophet will I trust, if she prove false.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	London. Before the Tower.
+
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, with his Serving-men in blue coats]
+
+GLOUCESTER	I am come to survey the Tower this day:
+	Since Henry's death, I fear, there is conveyance.
+	Where be these warders, that they wait not here?
+	Open the gates; 'tis Gloucester that calls.
+
+First Warder	[Within]  Who's there that knocks so imperiously?
+
+First Serving-Man	It is the noble Duke of Gloucester.
+
+Second Warder	[Within]  Whoe'er he be, you may not be let in.
+
+First Serving-Man	Villains, answer you so the lord protector?
+
+First Warder	[Within]  The Lord protect him! so we answer him:
+	We do no otherwise than we are will'd.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine?
+	There's none protector of the realm but I.
+	Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize.
+	Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms?
+
+	[Gloucester's men rush at the Tower Gates, and
+	WOODVILE the Lieutenant speaks within]
+
+WOODVILE	What noise is this? what traitors have we here?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear?
+	Open the gates; here's Gloucester that would enter.
+
+WOODVILE	Have patience, noble duke; I may not open;
+	The Cardinal of Winchester forbids:
+	From him I have express commandment
+	That thou nor none of thine shall be let in.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Faint-hearted Woodvile, prizest him 'fore me?
+	Arrogant Winchester, that haughty prelate,
+	Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne'er could brook?
+	Thou art no friend to God or to the king:
+	Open the gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly.
+
+Serving-Men	Open the gates unto the lord protector,
+	Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly.
+
+	[Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates BISHOP
+	OF WINCHESTER and his men in tawny coats]
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	How now, ambitious Humphry! what means this?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Peel'd priest, dost thou command me to be shut out?
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	I do, thou most usurping proditor,
+	And not protector, of the king or realm.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Stand back, thou manifest conspirator,
+	Thou that contrivedst to murder our dead lord;
+	Thou that givest whores indulgences to sin:
+	I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat,
+	If thou proceed in this thy insolence.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot:
+	This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain,
+	To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I will not slay thee, but I'll drive thee back:
+	Thy scarlet robes as a child's bearing-cloth
+	I'll use to carry thee out of this place.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Do what thou darest; I beard thee to thy face.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What! am I dared and bearded to my face?
+	Draw, men, for all this privileged place;
+	Blue coats to tawny coats. Priest, beware your beard,
+	I mean to tug it and to cuff you soundly:
+	Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat:
+	In spite of pope or dignities of church,
+	Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Gloucester, thou wilt answer this before the pope.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Winchester goose, I cry, a rope! a rope!
+	Now beat them hence; why do you let them stay?
+	Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array.
+	Out, tawny coats! out, scarlet hypocrite!
+
+	[Here GLOUCESTER's men beat out BISHOP OF
+	WINCHESTER's men, and enter in the hurly-
+	burly the Mayor of London and his Officers]
+
+Mayor	Fie, lords! that you, being supreme magistrates,
+	Thus contumeliously should break the peace!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Peace, mayor! thou know'st little of my wrongs:
+	Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king,
+	Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Here's Gloucester, a foe to citizens,
+	One that still motions war and never peace,
+	O'ercharging your free purses with large fines,
+	That seeks to overthrow religion,
+	Because he is protector of the realm,
+	And would have armour here out of the Tower,
+	To crown himself king and suppress the prince.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I will not answer thee with words, but blows.
+
+	[Here they skirmish again]
+
+Mayor	Naught rests for me in this tumultuous strife
+	But to make open proclamation:
+	Come, officer; as loud as e'er thou canst,
+	Cry.
+
+Officer	All manner of men assembled here in arms this day
+	against God's peace and the king's, we charge and
+	command you, in his highness' name, to repair to
+	your several dwelling-places; and not to wear,
+	handle, or use any sword, weapon, or dagger,
+	henceforward, upon pain of death.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law:
+	But we shall meet, and break our minds at large.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Gloucester, we will meet; to thy cost, be sure:
+	Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work.
+
+Mayor	I'll call for clubs, if you will not away.
+	This cardinal's more haughty than the devil.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Mayor, farewell: thou dost but what thou mayst.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Abominable Gloucester, guard thy head;
+	For I intend to have it ere long.
+
+	[Exeunt, severally, GLOUCESTER and BISHOP OF
+	WINCHESTER with their Serving-men]
+
+Mayor	See the coast clear'd, and then we will depart.
+	Good God, these nobles should such stomachs bear!
+	I myself fight not once in forty year.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Orleans.
+
+
+	[Enter, on the walls, a Master Gunner and his Boy]
+
+Master-Gunner	Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is besieged,
+	And how the English have the suburbs won.
+
+Boy	Father, I know; and oft have shot at them,
+	Howe'er unfortunate I miss'd my aim.
+
+Master-Gunner	But now thou shalt not. Be thou ruled by me:
+	Chief master-gunner am I of this town;
+	Something I must do to procure me grace.
+	The prince's espials have informed me
+	How the English, in the suburbs close intrench'd,
+	Wont, through a secret grate of iron bars
+	In yonder tower, to overpeer the city,
+	And thence discover how with most advantage
+	They may vex us with shot, or with assault.
+	To intercept this inconvenience,
+	A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have placed;
+	And even these three days have I watch'd,
+	If I could see them.
+	Now do thou watch, for I can stay no longer.
+	If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word;
+	And thou shalt find me at the governor's.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Boy	Father, I warrant you; take you no care;
+	I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter, on the turrets, SALISBURY and TALBOT,
+	GLANSDALE, GARGRAVE, and others]
+
+SALISBURY	Talbot, my life, my joy, again return'd!
+	How wert thou handled being prisoner?
+	Or by what means got'st thou to be released?
+	Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top.
+
+TALBOT	The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner
+	Call'd the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles;
+	For him was I exchanged and ransomed.
+	But with a baser man of arms by far
+	Once in contempt they would have barter'd me:
+	Which I, disdaining, scorn'd; and craved death,
+	Rather than I would be so vile esteem'd.
+	In fine, redeem'd I was as I desired.
+	But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart,
+	Whom with my bare fists I would execute,
+	If I now had him brought into my power.
+
+SALISBURY	Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert entertain'd.
+
+TALBOT	With scoffs and scorns and contumelious taunts.
+	In open market-place produced they me,
+	To be a public spectacle to all:
+	Here, said they, is the terror of the French,
+	The scarecrow that affrights our children so.
+	Then broke I from the officers that led me,
+	And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground,
+	To hurl at the beholders of my shame:
+	My grisly countenance made others fly;
+	None durst come near for fear of sudden death.
+	In iron walls they deem'd me not secure;
+	So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread,
+	That they supposed I could rend bars of steel,
+	And spurn in pieces posts of adamant:
+	Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had,
+	That walked about me every minute-while;
+	And if I did but stir out of my bed,
+	Ready they were to shoot me to the heart.
+
+	[Enter the Boy with a linstock]
+
+SALISBURY	I grieve to hear what torments you endured,
+	But we will be revenged sufficiently
+	Now it is supper-time in Orleans:
+	Here, through this grate, I count each one
+	and view the Frenchmen how they fortify:
+	Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee.
+	Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glansdale,
+	Let me have your express opinions
+	Where is best place to make our battery next.
+
+GARGRAVE	I think, at the north gate; for there stand lords.
+
+GLANSDALE	And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge.
+
+TALBOT	For aught I see, this city must be famish'd,
+	Or with light skirmishes enfeebled.
+
+	[Here they shoot. SALISBURY and GARGRAVE fall]
+
+SALISBURY	O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners!
+
+GARGRAVE	O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man!
+
+TALBOT	What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us?
+	Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak:
+	How farest thou, mirror of all martial men?
+	One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off!
+	Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand
+	That hath contrived this woful tragedy!
+	In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame;
+	Henry the Fifth he first train'd to the wars;
+	Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up,
+	His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field.
+	Yet livest thou, Salisbury? though thy speech doth fail,
+	One eye thou hast, to look to heaven for grace:
+	The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.
+	Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive,
+	If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands!
+	Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it.
+	Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life?
+	Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him.
+	Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort;
+	Thou shalt not die whiles--
+	He beckons with his hand and smiles on me.
+	As who should say 'When I am dead and gone,
+	Remember to avenge me on the French.'
+	Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero,
+	Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn:
+	Wretched shall France be only in my name.
+
+	[Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens]
+
+	What stir is this? what tumult's in the heavens?
+	Whence cometh this alarum and the noise?
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head:
+	The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd,
+	A holy prophetess new risen up,
+	Is come with a great power to raise the siege.
+
+	[Here SALISBURY lifteth himself up and groans]
+
+TALBOT	Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan!
+	It irks his heart he cannot be revenged.
+	Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you:
+	Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish,
+	Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels,
+	And make a quagmire of your mingled brains.
+	Convey me Salisbury into his tent,
+	And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare.
+
+	[Alarum. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The same.
+
+
+	[Here an alarum again: and TALBOT pursueth the
+	DAUPHIN, and driveth him: then enter JOAN LA
+	PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her, and exit
+	after them then re-enter TALBOT]
+
+TALBOT	Where is my strength, my valour, and my force?
+	Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them:
+	A woman clad in armour chaseth them.
+
+	[Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE]
+
+	Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee;
+	Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee:
+	Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch,
+	And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee.
+
+	[Here they fight]
+
+TALBOT	Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail?
+	My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage
+	And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder.
+	But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet.
+
+	[They fight again]
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come:
+	I must go victual Orleans forthwith.
+
+	[A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers]
+
+	O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength.
+	Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved men;
+	Help Salisbury to make his testament:
+	This day is ours, as many more shall be.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+TALBOT	My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel;
+	I know not where I am, nor what I do;
+	A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal,
+	Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists:
+	So bees with smoke and doves with noisome stench
+	Are from their hives and houses driven away.
+	They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs;
+	Now, like to whelps, we crying run away.
+
+	[A short alarum]
+
+	Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight,
+	Or tear the lions out of England's coat;
+	Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead:
+	Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf,
+	Or horse or oxen from the leopard,
+	As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves.
+
+	[Alarum. Here another skirmish]
+
+	It will not be: retire into your trenches:
+	You all consented unto Salisbury's death,
+	For none would strike a stroke in his revenge.
+	Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans,
+	In spite of us or aught that we could do.
+	O, would I were to die with Salisbury!
+	The shame hereof will make me hide my head.
+
+	[Exit TALBOT. Alarum; retreat; flourish]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter, on the walls, JOAN LA PUCELLE, CHARLES,
+	REIGNIER, ALENCON, and Soldiers]
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Advance our waving colours on the walls;
+	Rescued is Orleans from the English
+	Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.
+
+CHARLES	Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter,
+	How shall I honour thee for this success?
+	Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens
+	That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next.
+	France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess!
+	Recover'd is the town of Orleans:
+	More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state.
+
+REIGNIER	Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town?
+	Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires
+	And feast and banquet in the open streets,
+	To celebrate the joy that God hath given us.
+
+ALENCON	All France will be replete with mirth and joy,
+	When they shall hear how we have play'd the men.
+
+CHARLES	'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won;
+	For which I will divide my crown with her,
+	And all the priests and friars in my realm
+	Shall in procession sing her endless praise.
+	A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear
+	Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was:
+	In memory of her when she is dead,
+	Her ashes, in an urn more precious
+	Than the rich-jewel'd of Darius,
+	Transported shall be at high festivals
+	Before the kings and queens of France.
+	No longer on Saint Denis will we cry,
+	But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint.
+	Come in, and let us banquet royally,
+	After this golden day of victory.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before Orleans.
+
+
+	[Enter a Sergeant of a band with two Sentinels]
+
+Sergeant	Sirs, take your places and be vigilant:
+	If any noise or soldier you perceive
+	Near to the walls, by some apparent sign
+	Let us have knowledge at the court of guard.
+
+First Sentinel	Sergeant, you shall.
+
+	[Exit Sergeant]
+
+		Thus are poor servitors,
+	When others sleep upon their quiet beds,
+	Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain and cold.
+
+	[Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and Forces, with
+	scaling-ladders, their drums beating a dead march]
+
+TALBOT	Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy,
+	By whose approach the regions of Artois,
+	Wallon and Picardy are friends to us,
+	This happy night the Frenchmen are secure,
+	Having all day caroused and banqueted:
+	Embrace we then this opportunity
+	As fitting best to quittance their deceit
+	Contrived by art and baleful sorcery.
+
+BEDFORD	Coward of France! how much he wrongs his fame,
+	Despairing of his own arm's fortitude,
+	To join with witches and the help of hell!
+
+BURGUNDY	Traitors have never other company.
+	But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure?
+
+TALBOT	A maid, they say.
+
+BEDFORD	                  A maid! and be so martial!
+
+BURGUNDY	Pray God she prove not masculine ere long,
+	If underneath the standard of the French
+	She carry armour as she hath begun.
+
+TALBOT	Well, let them practise and converse with spirits:
+	God is our fortress, in whose conquering name
+	Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.
+
+BEDFORD	Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee.
+
+TALBOT	Not all together: better far, I guess,
+	That we do make our entrance several ways;
+	That, if it chance the one of us do fail,
+	The other yet may rise against their force.
+
+BEDFORD	Agreed: I'll to yond corner.
+
+BURGUNDY	And I to this.
+
+TALBOT	And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave.
+	Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right
+	Of English Henry, shall this night appear
+	How much in duty I am bound to both.
+
+Sentinels	Arm! arm! the enemy doth make assault!
+
+	[Cry: 'St. George,' 'A Talbot.']
+
+	[The French leap over the walls in their shirts.
+	Enter, several ways, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS,
+	ALENCON, and REIGNIER, half ready, and half unready]
+
+ALENCON	How now, my lords! what, all unready so?
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Unready! ay, and glad we 'scaped so well.
+
+REIGNIER	'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds,
+	Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors.
+
+ALENCON	Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms,
+	Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise
+	More venturous or desperate than this.
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS	I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell.
+
+REIGNIER	If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him.
+
+ALENCON	Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped.
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Tut, holy Joan was his defensive guard.
+
+	[Enter CHARLES and JOAN LA PUCELLE]
+
+CHARLES	Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame?
+	Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal,
+	Make us partakers of a little gain,
+	That now our loss might be ten times so much?
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend!
+	At all times will you have my power alike?
+	Sleeping or waking must I still prevail,
+	Or will you blame and lay the fault on me?
+	Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good,
+	This sudden mischief never could have fall'n.
+
+CHARLES	Duke of Alencon, this was your default,
+	That, being captain of the watch to-night,
+	Did look no better to that weighty charge.
+
+ALENCON	Had all your quarters been as safely kept
+	As that whereof I had the government,
+	We had not been thus shamefully surprised.
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Mine was secure.
+
+REIGNIER	                  And so was mine, my lord.
+
+CHARLES	And, for myself, most part of all this night,
+	Within her quarter and mine own precinct
+	I was employ'd in passing to and fro,
+	About relieving of the sentinels:
+	Then how or which way should they first break in?
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Question, my lords, no further of the case,
+	How or which way: 'tis sure they found some place
+	But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.
+	And now there rests no other shift but this;
+	To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispersed,
+	And lay new platforms to endamage them.
+
+	[Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying 'A
+	Talbot! a Talbot!' They fly, leaving their
+	clothes behind]
+
+Soldier	I'll be so bold to take what they have left.
+	The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword;
+	For I have loaden me with many spoils,
+	Using no other weapon but his name.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Orleans. Within the town.
+
+
+	[Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and others]
+
+BEDFORD	The day begins to break, and night is fled,
+	Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.
+	Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.
+
+	[Retreat sounded]
+
+TALBOT	Bring forth the body of old Salisbury,
+	And here advance it in the market-place,
+	The middle centre of this cursed town.
+	Now have I paid my vow unto his soul;
+	For every drop of blood was drawn from him,
+	There hath at least five Frenchmen died tonight.
+	And that hereafter ages may behold
+	What ruin happen'd in revenge of him,
+	Within their chiefest temple I'll erect
+	A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd:
+	Upon the which, that every one may read,
+	Shall be engraved the sack of Orleans,
+	The treacherous manner of his mournful death
+	And what a terror he had been to France.
+	But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,
+	I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace,
+	His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,
+	Nor any of his false confederates.
+
+BEDFORD	'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,
+	Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds,
+	They did amongst the troops of armed men
+	Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field.
+
+BURGUNDY	Myself, as far as I could well discern
+	For smoke and dusky vapours of the night,
+	Am sure I scared the Dauphin and his trull,
+	When arm in arm they both came swiftly running,
+	Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves
+	That could not live asunder day or night.
+	After that things are set in order here,
+	We'll follow them with all the power we have.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	All hail, my lords! which of this princely train
+	Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts
+	So much applauded through the realm of France?
+
+TALBOT	Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him?
+
+Messenger	The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne,
+	With modesty admiring thy renown,
+	By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe
+	To visit her poor castle where she lies,
+	That she may boast she hath beheld the man
+	Whose glory fills the world with loud report.
+
+BURGUNDY	Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars
+	Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport,
+	When ladies crave to be encounter'd with.
+	You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.
+
+TALBOT	Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men
+	Could not prevail with all their oratory,
+	Yet hath a woman's kindness over-ruled:
+	And therefore tell her I return great thanks,
+	And in submission will attend on her.
+	Will not your honours bear me company?
+
+BEDFORD	No, truly; it is more than manners will:
+	And I have heard it said, unbidden guests
+	Are often welcomest when they are gone.
+
+TALBOT	Well then, alone, since there's no remedy,
+	I mean to prove this lady's courtesy.
+	Come hither, captain.
+
+	[Whispers]
+
+		You perceive my mind?
+
+Captain	I do, my lord, and mean accordingly.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Auvergne. The COUNTESS's castle.
+
+
+	[Enter the COUNTESS and her Porter]
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	Porter, remember what I gave in charge;
+	And when you have done so, bring the keys to me.
+
+Porter	Madam, I will.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	The plot is laid: if all things fall out right,
+	I shall as famous be by this exploit
+	As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death.
+	Great is the rumor of this dreadful knight,
+	And his achievements of no less account:
+	Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears,
+	To give their censure of these rare reports.
+
+	[Enter Messenger and TALBOT]
+
+Messenger	Madam,
+	According as your ladyship desired,
+	By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come.
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	And he is welcome. What! is this the man?
+
+Messenger	Madam, it is.
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	                  Is this the scourge of France?
+	Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad
+	That with his name the mothers still their babes?
+	I see report is fabulous and false:
+	I thought I should have seen some Hercules,
+	A second Hector, for his grim aspect,
+	And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs.
+	Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf!
+	It cannot be this weak and writhled shrimp
+	Should strike such terror to his enemies.
+
+TALBOT	Madam, I have been bold to trouble you;
+	But since your ladyship is not at leisure,
+	I'll sort some other time to visit you.
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	What means he now? Go ask him whither he goes.
+
+Messenger	Stay, my Lord Talbot; for my lady craves
+	To know the cause of your abrupt departure.
+
+TALBOT	Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief,
+	I go to certify her Talbot's here.
+
+	[Re-enter Porter with keys]
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	If thou be he, then art thou prisoner.
+
+TALBOT	Prisoner! to whom?
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	To me, blood-thirsty lord;
+	And for that cause I trained thee to my house.
+	Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me,
+	For in my gallery thy picture hangs:
+	But now the substance shall endure the like,
+	And I will chain these legs and arms of thine,
+	That hast by tyranny these many years
+	Wasted our country, slain our citizens
+	And sent our sons and husbands captivate.
+
+TALBOT	Ha, ha, ha!
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	Laughest thou, wretch? thy mirth shall turn to moan.
+
+TALBOT	I laugh to see your ladyship so fond
+	To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow
+	Whereon to practise your severity.
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	Why, art not thou the man?
+
+TALBOT	I am indeed.
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	Then have I substance too.
+
+TALBOT	No, no, I am but shadow of myself:
+	You are deceived, my substance is not here;
+	For what you see is but the smallest part
+	And least proportion of humanity:
+	I tell you, madam, were the whole frame here,
+	It is of such a spacious lofty pitch,
+	Your roof were not sufficient to contain't.
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	This is a riddling merchant for the nonce;
+	He will be here, and yet he is not here:
+	How can these contrarieties agree?
+
+TALBOT	That will I show you presently.
+
+	[Winds his horn. Drums strike up: a peal of
+	ordnance. Enter soldiers]
+
+	How say you, madam? are you now persuaded
+	That Talbot is but shadow of himself?
+	These are his substance, sinews, arms and strength,
+	With which he yoketh your rebellious necks,
+	Razeth your cities and subverts your towns
+	And in a moment makes them desolate.
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	Victorious Talbot! pardon my abuse:
+	I find thou art no less than fame hath bruited
+	And more than may be gather'd by thy shape.
+	Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath;
+	For I am sorry that with reverence
+	I did not entertain thee as thou art.
+
+TALBOT	Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconstrue
+	The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake
+	The outward composition of his body.
+	What you have done hath not offended me;
+	Nor other satisfaction do I crave,
+	But only, with your patience, that we may
+	Taste of your wine and see what cates you have;
+	For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well.
+
+COUNTESS
+OF AUVERGNE	With all my heart, and think me honoured
+	To feast so great a warrior in my house.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+SCENE IV	London. The Temple-garden.
+
+
+	[Enter the Earls of SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, and WARWICK;
+	RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and another Lawyer]
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Great lords and gentlemen, what means this silence?
+	Dare no man answer in a case of truth?
+
+SUFFOLK	Within the Temple-hall we were too loud;
+	The garden here is more convenient.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Then say at once if I maintain'd the truth;
+	Or else was wrangling Somerset in the error?
+
+SUFFOLK	Faith, I have been a truant in the law,
+	And never yet could frame my will to it;
+	And therefore frame the law unto my will.
+
+SOMERSET	Judge you, my Lord of Warwick, then, between us.
+
+WARWICK	Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch;
+	Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth;
+	Between two blades, which bears the better temper:
+	Between two horses, which doth bear him best;
+	Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye;
+	I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgement;
+	But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,
+	Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Tut, tut, here is a mannerly forbearance:
+	The truth appears so naked on my side
+	That any purblind eye may find it out.
+
+SOMERSET	And on my side it is so well apparell'd,
+	So clear, so shining and so evident
+	That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak,
+	In dumb significants proclaim your thoughts:
+	Let him that is a true-born gentleman
+	And stands upon the honour of his birth,
+	If he suppose that I have pleaded truth,
+	From off this brier pluck a white rose with me.
+
+SOMERSET	Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer,
+	But dare maintain the party of the truth,
+	Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.
+
+WARWICK	I love no colours, and without all colour
+	Of base insinuating flattery
+	I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet.
+
+SUFFOLK	I pluck this red rose with young Somerset
+	And say withal I think he held the right.
+
+VERNON	Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more,
+	Till you conclude that he upon whose side
+	The fewest roses are cropp'd from the tree
+	Shall yield the other in the right opinion.
+
+SOMERSET	Good Master Vernon, it is well objected:
+	If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	And I.
+
+VERNON	Then for the truth and plainness of the case.
+	I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here,
+	Giving my verdict on the white rose side.
+
+SOMERSET	Prick not your finger as you pluck it off,
+	Lest bleeding you do paint the white rose red
+	And fall on my side so, against your will.
+
+VERNON	If I my lord, for my opinion bleed,
+	Opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt
+	And keep me on the side where still I am.
+
+SOMERSET	Well, well, come on: who else?
+
+Lawyer	Unless my study and my books be false,
+	The argument you held was wrong in you:
+
+	[To SOMERSET]
+
+	In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Now, Somerset, where is your argument?
+
+SOMERSET	Here in my scabbard, meditating that
+	Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Meantime your cheeks do counterfeit our roses;
+	For pale they look with fear, as witnessing
+	The truth on our side.
+
+SOMERSET	No, Plantagenet,
+	'Tis not for fear but anger that thy cheeks
+	Blush for pure shame to counterfeit our roses,
+	And yet thy tongue will not confess thy error.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
+
+SOMERSET	Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain his truth;
+	Whiles thy consuming canker eats his falsehood.
+
+SOMERSET	Well, I'll find friends to wear my bleeding roses,
+	That shall maintain what I have said is true,
+	Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand,
+	I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy.
+
+SUFFOLK	Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Proud Pole, I will, and scorn both him and thee.
+
+SUFFOLK	I'll turn my part thereof into thy throat.
+
+SOMERSET	Away, away, good William de la Pole!
+	We grace the yeoman by conversing with him.
+
+WARWICK	Now, by God's will, thou wrong'st him, Somerset;
+	His grandfather was Lionel Duke of Clarence,
+	Third son to the third Edward King of England:
+	Spring crestless yeomen from so deep a root?
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	He bears him on the place's privilege,
+	Or durst not, for his craven heart, say thus.
+
+SOMERSET	By him that made me, I'll maintain my words
+	On any plot of ground in Christendom.
+	Was not thy father, Richard Earl of Cambridge,
+	For treason executed in our late king's days?
+	And, by his treason, stand'st not thou attainted,
+	Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry?
+	His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood;
+	And, till thou be restored, thou art a yeoman.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	My father was attached, not attainted,
+	Condemn'd to die for treason, but no traitor;
+	And that I'll prove on better men than Somerset,
+	Were growing time once ripen'd to my will.
+	For your partaker Pole and you yourself,
+	I'll note you in my book of memory,
+	To scourge you for this apprehension:
+	Look to it well and say you are well warn'd.
+
+SOMERSET	Ah, thou shalt find us ready for thee still;
+	And know us by these colours for thy foes,
+	For these my friends in spite of thee shall wear.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	And, by my soul, this pale and angry rose,
+	As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate,
+	Will I for ever and my faction wear,
+	Until it wither with me to my grave
+	Or flourish to the height of my degree.
+
+SUFFOLK	Go forward and be choked with thy ambition!
+	And so farewell until I meet thee next.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SOMERSET	Have with thee, Pole. Farewell, ambitious Richard.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	How I am braved and must perforce endure it!
+
+WARWICK	This blot that they object against your house
+	Shall be wiped out in the next parliament
+	Call'd for the truce of Winchester and Gloucester;
+	And if thou be not then created York,
+	I will not live to be accounted Warwick.
+	Meantime, in signal of my love to thee,
+	Against proud Somerset and William Pole,
+	Will I upon thy party wear this rose:
+	And here I prophesy: this brawl to-day,
+	Grown to this faction in the Temple-garden,
+	Shall send between the red rose and the white
+	A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you,
+	That you on my behalf would pluck a flower.
+
+VERNON	In your behalf still will I wear the same.
+
+Lawyer	And so will I.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Thanks, gentle sir.
+	Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say
+	This quarrel will drink blood another day.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+SCENE V	The Tower of London.
+
+
+	[Enter MORTIMER, brought in a chair, and Gaolers]
+
+MORTIMER	Kind keepers of my weak decaying age,
+	Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.
+	Even like a man new haled from the rack,
+	So fare my limbs with long imprisonment.
+	And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death,
+	Nestor-like aged in an age of care,
+	Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer.
+	These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent,
+	Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent;
+	Weak shoulders, overborne with burthening grief,
+	And pithless arms, like to a wither'd vine
+	That droops his sapless branches to the ground;
+	Yet are these feet, whose strengthless stay is numb,
+	Unable to support this lump of clay,
+	Swift-winged with desire to get a grave,
+	As witting I no other comfort have.
+	But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come?
+
+First Gaoler	Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come:
+	We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber;
+	And answer was return'd that he will come.
+
+MORTIMER	Enough: my soul shall then be satisfied.
+	Poor gentleman! his wrong doth equal mine.
+	Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign,
+	Before whose glory I was great in arms,
+	This loathsome sequestration have I had:
+	And even since then hath Richard been obscured,
+	Deprived of honour and inheritance.
+	But now the arbitrator of despairs,
+	Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries,
+	With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence:
+	I would his troubles likewise were expired,
+	That so he might recover what was lost.
+
+	[Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET]
+
+First Gaoler	My lord, your loving nephew now is come.
+
+MORTIMER	Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come?
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly used,
+	Your nephew, late despised Richard, comes.
+
+MORTIMER	Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck,
+	And in his bosom spend my latter gasp:
+	O, tell me when my lips do touch his cheeks,
+	That I may kindly give one fainting kiss.
+	And now declare, sweet stem from York's great stock,
+	Why didst thou say, of late thou wert despised?
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	First, lean thine aged back against mine arm;
+	And, in that ease, I'll tell thee my disease.
+	This day, in argument upon a case,
+	Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me;
+	Among which terms he used his lavish tongue
+	And did upbraid me with my father's death:
+	Which obloquy set bars before my tongue,
+	Else with the like I had requited him.
+	Therefore, good uncle, for my father's sake,
+	In honour of a true Plantagenet
+	And for alliance sake, declare the cause
+	My father, Earl of Cambridge, lost his head.
+
+MORTIMER	That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me
+	And hath detain'd me all my flowering youth
+	Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine,
+	Was cursed instrument of his decease.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Discover more at large what cause that was,
+	For I am ignorant and cannot guess.
+
+MORTIMER	I will, if that my fading breath permit
+	And death approach not ere my tale be done.
+	Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this king,
+	Deposed his nephew Richard, Edward's son,
+	The first-begotten and the lawful heir,
+	Of Edward king, the third of that descent:
+	During whose reign the Percies of the north,
+	Finding his usurpation most unjust,
+	Endeavor'd my advancement to the throne:
+	The reason moved these warlike lords to this
+	Was, for that--young King Richard thus removed,
+	Leaving no heir begotten of his body--
+	I was the next by birth and parentage;
+	For by my mother I derived am
+	From Lionel Duke of Clarence, the third son
+	To King Edward the Third; whereas he
+	From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree,
+	Being but fourth of that heroic line.
+	But mark: as in this haughty attempt
+	They laboured to plant the rightful heir,
+	I lost my liberty and they their lives.
+	Long after this, when Henry the Fifth,
+	Succeeding his father Bolingbroke, did reign,
+	Thy father, Earl of Cambridge, then derived
+	From famous Edmund Langley, Duke of York,
+	Marrying my sister that thy mother was,
+	Again in pity of my hard distress
+	Levied an army, weening to redeem
+	And have install'd me in the diadem:
+	But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl
+	And was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers,
+	In whom the tide rested, were suppress'd.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Of which, my lord, your honour is the last.
+
+MORTIMER	True; and thou seest that I no issue have
+	And that my fainting words do warrant death;
+	Thou art my heir; the rest I wish thee gather:
+	But yet be wary in thy studious care.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Thy grave admonishments prevail with me:
+	But yet, methinks, my father's execution
+	Was nothing less than bloody tyranny.
+
+MORTIMER	With silence, nephew, be thou politic:
+	Strong-fixed is the house of Lancaster,
+	And like a mountain, not to be removed.
+	But now thy uncle is removing hence:
+	As princes do their courts, when they are cloy'd
+	With long continuance in a settled place.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	O, uncle, would some part of my young years
+	Might but redeem the passage of your age!
+
+MORTIMER	Thou dost then wrong me, as that slaughterer doth
+	Which giveth many wounds when one will kill.
+	Mourn not, except thou sorrow for my good;
+	Only give order for my funeral:
+	And so farewell, and fair be all thy hopes
+	And prosperous be thy life in peace and war!
+
+	[Dies]
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul!
+	In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage
+	And like a hermit overpass'd thy days.
+	Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast;
+	And what I do imagine let that rest.
+	Keepers, convey him hence, and I myself
+	Will see his burial better than his life.
+
+	[Exeunt Gaolers, bearing out the body of MORTIMER]
+
+	Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer,
+	Choked with ambition of the meaner sort:
+	And for those wrongs, those bitter injuries,
+	Which Somerset hath offer'd to my house:
+	I doubt not but with honour to redress;
+	And therefore haste I to the parliament,
+	Either to be restored to my blood,
+	Or make my ill the advantage of my good.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. The Parliament-house.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, EXETER, GLOUCESTER,
+	WARWICK, SOMERSET, and SUFFOLK; the BISHOP OF
+	WINCHESTER, RICHARD PLANTAGENET, and others.
+	GLOUCESTER offers to put up a bill; BISHOP OF
+	WINCHESTER snatches it, and tears it]
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Comest thou with deep premeditated lines,
+	With written pamphlets studiously devised,
+	Humphrey of Gloucester? If thou canst accuse,
+	Or aught intend'st to lay unto my charge,
+	Do it without invention, suddenly;
+	As I with sudden and extemporal speech
+	Purpose to answer what thou canst object.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Presumptuous priest! this place commands my patience,
+	Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonour'd me.
+	Think not, although in writing I preferr'd
+	The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes,
+	That therefore I have forged, or am not able
+	Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen:
+	No, prelate; such is thy audacious wickedness,
+	Thy lewd, pestiferous and dissentious pranks,
+	As very infants prattle of thy pride.
+	Thou art a most pernicious usurer,
+	Forward by nature, enemy to peace;
+	Lascivious, wanton, more than well beseems
+	A man of thy profession and degree;
+	And for thy treachery, what's more manifest?
+	In that thou laid'st a trap to take my life,
+	As well at London bridge as at the Tower.
+	Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted,
+	The king, thy sovereign, is not quite exempt
+	From envious malice of thy swelling heart.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Gloucester, I do defy thee. Lords, vouchsafe
+	To give me hearing what I shall reply.
+	If I were covetous, ambitious or perverse,
+	As he will have me, how am I so poor?
+	Or how haps it I seek not to advance
+	Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling?
+	And for dissension, who preferreth peace
+	More than I do?--except I be provoked.
+	No, my good lords, it is not that offends;
+	It is not that that hath incensed the duke:
+	It is, because no one should sway but he;
+	No one but he should be about the king;
+	And that engenders thunder in his breast
+	And makes him roar these accusations forth.
+	But he shall know I am as good--
+
+GLOUCESTER	As good!
+	Thou bastard of my grandfather!
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Ay, lordly sir; for what are you, I pray,
+	But one imperious in another's throne?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Am I not protector, saucy priest?
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	And am not I a prelate of the church?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps
+	And useth it to patronage his theft.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Unreverent Gloster!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Thou art reverent
+	Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Rome shall remedy this.
+
+WARWICK	Roam thither, then.
+
+SOMERSET	My lord, it were your duty to forbear.
+
+WARWICK	Ay, see the bishop be not overborne.
+
+SOMERSET	Methinks my lord should be religious
+	And know the office that belongs to such.
+
+WARWICK	Methinks his lordship should be humbler;
+	it fitteth not a prelate so to plead.
+
+SOMERSET	Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so near.
+
+WARWICK	State holy or unhallow'd, what of that?
+	Is not his grace protector to the king?
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	[Aside]  Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue,
+	Lest it be said 'Speak, sirrah, when you should;
+	Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords?'
+	Else would I have a fling at Winchester.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Uncles of Gloucester and of Winchester,
+	The special watchmen of our English weal,
+	I would prevail, if prayers might prevail,
+	To join your hearts in love and amity.
+	O, what a scandal is it to our crown,
+	That two such noble peers as ye should jar!
+	Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell
+	Civil dissension is a viperous worm
+	That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.
+
+	[A noise within, 'Down with the tawny-coats!']
+
+	What tumult's this?
+
+WARWICK	An uproar, I dare warrant,
+	Begun through malice of the bishop's men.
+
+	[A noise again, 'Stones! stones!' Enter Mayor]
+
+Mayor	O, my good lords, and virtuous Henry,
+	Pity the city of London, pity us!
+	The bishop and the Duke of Gloucester's men,
+	Forbidden late to carry any weapon,
+	Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble stones
+	And banding themselves in contrary parts
+	Do pelt so fast at one another's pate
+	That many have their giddy brains knock'd out:
+	Our windows are broke down in every street
+	And we for fear compell'd to shut our shops.
+
+	[Enter Serving-men, in skirmish, with bloody pates]
+
+KING HENRY VI	We charge you, on allegiance to ourself,
+	To hold your slaughtering hands and keep the peace.
+	Pray, uncle Gloucester, mitigate this strife.
+
+First Serving-man	Nay, if we be forbidden stones,
+	We'll fall to it with our teeth.
+
+Second Serving-man	Do what ye dare, we are as resolute.
+
+	[Skirmish again]
+
+GLOUCESTER	You of my household, leave this peevish broil
+	And set this unaccustom'd fight aside.
+
+Third Serving-man	My lord, we know your grace to be a man
+	Just and upright; and, for your royal birth,
+	Inferior to none but to his majesty:
+	And ere that we will suffer such a prince,
+	So kind a father of the commonweal,
+	To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate,
+	We and our wives and children all will fight
+	And have our bodies slaughtered by thy foes.
+
+First Serving-man	Ay, and the very parings of our nails
+	Shall pitch a field when we are dead.
+
+	[Begin again]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Stay, stay, I say!
+	And if you love me, as you say you do,
+	Let me persuade you to forbear awhile.
+
+KING HENRY VI	O, how this discord doth afflict my soul!
+	Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold
+	My sighs and tears and will not once relent?
+	Who should be pitiful, if you be not?
+	Or who should study to prefer a peace.
+	If holy churchmen take delight in broils?
+
+WARWICK	Yield, my lord protector; yield, Winchester;
+	Except you mean with obstinate repulse
+	To slay your sovereign and destroy the realm.
+	You see what mischief and what murder too
+	Hath been enacted through your enmity;
+	Then be at peace except ye thirst for blood.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	He shall submit, or I will never yield.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Compassion on the king commands me stoop;
+	Or I would see his heart out, ere the priest
+	Should ever get that privilege of me.
+
+WARWICK	Behold, my Lord of Winchester, the duke
+	Hath banish'd moody discontented fury,
+	As by his smoothed brows it doth appear:
+	Why look you still so stern and tragical?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach
+	That malice was a great and grievous sin;
+	And will not you maintain the thing you teach,
+	But prove a chief offender in the same?
+
+WARWICK	Sweet king! the bishop hath a kindly gird.
+	For shame, my lord of Winchester, relent!
+	What, shall a child instruct you what to do?
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	Well, Duke of Gloucester, I will yield to thee;
+	Love for thy love and hand for hand I give.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside]  Ay, but, I fear me, with a hollow heart.--
+	See here, my friends and loving countrymen,
+	This token serveth for a flag of truce
+	Betwixt ourselves and all our followers:
+	So help me God, as I dissemble not!
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	[Aside]  So help me God, as I intend it not!
+
+KING HENRY VI	O, loving uncle, kind Duke of Gloucester,
+	How joyful am I made by this contract!
+	Away, my masters! trouble us no more;
+	But join in friendship, as your lords have done.
+
+First Serving-man	Content: I'll to the surgeon's.
+
+Second Serving-man	And so will I.
+
+Third Serving-man	And I will see what physic the tavern affords.
+
+	[Exeunt Serving-men, Mayor, &c]
+
+WARWICK	Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign,
+	Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet
+	We do exhibit to your majesty.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Well urged, my Lord of Warwick: or sweet prince,
+	And if your grace mark every circumstance,
+	You have great reason to do Richard right;
+	Especially for those occasions
+	At Eltham Place I told your majesty.
+
+KING HENRY VI	And those occasions, uncle, were of force:
+	Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is
+	That Richard be restored to his blood.
+
+WARWICK	Let Richard be restored to his blood;
+	So shall his father's wrongs be recompensed.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	As will the rest, so willeth Winchester.
+
+KING HENRY VI	If Richard will be true, not that alone
+	But all the whole inheritance I give
+	That doth belong unto the house of York,
+	From whence you spring by lineal descent.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Thy humble servant vows obedience
+	And humble service till the point of death.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Stoop then and set your knee against my foot;
+	And, in reguerdon of that duty done,
+	I gird thee with the valiant sword of York:
+	Rise Richard, like a true Plantagenet,
+	And rise created princely Duke of York.
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	And so thrive Richard as thy foes may fall!
+	And as my duty springs, so perish they
+	That grudge one thought against your majesty!
+
+ALL	Welcome, high prince, the mighty Duke of York!
+
+SOMERSET	[Aside]  Perish, base prince, ignoble Duke of York!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Now will it best avail your majesty
+	To cross the seas and to be crown'd in France:
+	The presence of a king engenders love
+	Amongst his subjects and his loyal friends,
+	As it disanimates his enemies.
+
+KING HENRY VI	When Gloucester says the word, King Henry goes;
+	For friendly counsel cuts off many foes.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Your ships already are in readiness.
+
+	[Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt all but EXETER]
+
+EXETER	Ay, we may march in England or in France,
+	Not seeing what is likely to ensue.
+	This late dissension grown betwixt the peers
+	Burns under feigned ashes of forged love
+	And will at last break out into a flame:
+	As fester'd members rot but by degree,
+	Till bones and flesh and sinews fall away,
+	So will this base and envious discord breed.
+	And now I fear that fatal prophecy
+	Which in the time of Henry named the Fifth
+	Was in the mouth of every sucking babe;
+	That Henry born at Monmouth should win all
+	And Henry born at Windsor lose all:
+	Which is so plain that Exeter doth wish
+	His days may finish ere that hapless time.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	France. Before Rouen.
+
+
+	[Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE disguised, with four Soldiers
+	with sacks upon their backs]
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen,
+	Through which our policy must make a breach:
+	Take heed, be wary how you place your words;
+	Talk like the vulgar sort of market men
+	That come to gather money for their corn.
+	If we have entrance, as I hope we shall,
+	And that we find the slothful watch but weak,
+	I'll by a sign give notice to our friends,
+	That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them.
+
+First Soldier	Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city,
+	And we be lords and rulers over Rouen;
+	Therefore we'll knock.
+
+	[Knocks]
+
+Watch	[Within]  Qui est la?
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Paysans, pauvres gens de France;
+	Poor market folks that come to sell their corn.
+
+Watch	Enter, go in; the market bell is rung.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Now, Rouen, I'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Enter CHARLES, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON,
+	REIGNIER, and forces]
+
+CHARLES	Saint Denis bless this happy stratagem!
+	And once again we'll sleep secure in Rouen.
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Here enter'd Pucelle and her practisants;
+	Now she is there, how will she specify
+	Where is the best and safest passage in?
+
+REIGNIER	By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower;
+	Which, once discern'd, shows that her meaning is,
+	No way to that, for weakness, which she enter'd.
+
+	[Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE on the top, thrusting out a
+	torch burning]
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Behold, this is the happy wedding torch
+	That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen,
+	But burning fatal to the Talbotites!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS	See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend;
+	The burning torch in yonder turret stands.
+
+CHARLES	Now shine it like a comet of revenge,
+	A prophet to the fall of all our foes!
+
+REIGNIER	Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends;
+	Enter, and cry 'The Dauphin!' presently,
+	And then do execution on the watch.
+
+	[Alarum. Exeunt]
+
+	[An alarum. Enter TALBOT in an excursion]
+
+TALBOT	France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears,
+	If Talbot but survive thy treachery.
+	Pucelle, that witch, that damned sorceress,
+	Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares,
+	That hardly we escaped the pride of France.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[An alarum: excursions. BEDFORD, brought in sick
+	in a chair. Enter TALBOT and BURGUNDY without:
+	within JOAN LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, BASTARD OF ORLEANS,
+	ALENCON, and REIGNIER, on the walls]
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn for bread?
+	I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast
+	Before he'll buy again at such a rate:
+	'Twas full of darnel; do you like the taste?
+
+BURGUNDY	Scoff on, vile fiend and shameless courtezan!
+	I trust ere long to choke thee with thine own
+	And make thee curse the harvest of that corn.
+
+CHARLES	Your grace may starve perhaps before that time.
+
+BEDFORD	O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason!
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance,
+	And run a tilt at death within a chair?
+
+TALBOT	Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite,
+	Encompass'd with thy lustful paramours!
+	Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age
+	And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
+	Damsel, I'll have a bout with you again,
+	Or else let Talbot perish with this shame.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Are ye so hot, sir? yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace;
+	If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow.
+
+	[The English whisper together in council]
+
+	God speed the parliament! who shall be the speaker?
+
+TALBOT	Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field?
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Belike your lordship takes us then for fools,
+	To try if that our own be ours or no.
+
+TALBOT	I speak not to that railing Hecate,
+	But unto thee, Alencon, and the rest;
+	Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight it out?
+
+ALENCON	Signior, no.
+
+TALBOT	Signior, hang! base muleters of France!
+	Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls
+	And dare not take up arms like gentlemen.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Away, captains! let's get us from the walls;
+	For Talbot means no goodness by his looks.
+	God be wi' you, my lord! we came but to tell you
+	That we are here.
+
+	[Exeunt from the walls]
+
+TALBOT	And there will we be too, ere it be long,
+	Or else reproach be Talbot's greatest fame!
+	Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy house,
+	Prick'd on by public wrongs sustain'd in France,
+	Either to get the town again or die:
+	And I, as sure as English Henry lives
+	And as his father here was conqueror,
+	As sure as in this late-betrayed town
+	Great Coeur-de-lion's heart was buried,
+	So sure I swear to get the town or die.
+
+BURGUNDY	My vows are equal partners with thy vows.
+
+TALBOT	But, ere we go, regard this dying prince,
+	The valiant Duke of Bedford. Come, my lord,
+	We will bestow you in some better place,
+	Fitter for sickness and for crazy age.
+
+BEDFORD	Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me:
+	Here will I sit before the walls of Rouen
+	And will be partner of your weal or woe.
+
+BURGUNDY	Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade you.
+
+BEDFORD	Not to be gone from hence; for once I read
+	That stout Pendragon in his litter sick
+	Came to the field and vanquished his foes:
+	Methinks I should revive the soldiers' hearts,
+	Because I ever found them as myself.
+
+TALBOT	Undaunted spirit in a dying breast!
+	Then be it so: heavens keep old Bedford safe!
+	And now no more ado, brave Burgundy,
+	But gather we our forces out of hand
+	And set upon our boasting enemy.
+
+	[Exeunt all but BEDFORD and Attendants]
+
+	[An alarum: excursions. Enter FASTOLFE and
+	a Captain]
+
+Captain	Whither away, Sir John Fastolfe, in such haste?
+
+FASTOLFE	Whither away! to save myself by flight:
+	We are like to have the overthrow again.
+
+Captain	What! will you fly, and leave Lord Talbot?
+
+FASTOLFE	Ay,
+	All the Talbots in the world, to save my life!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Captain	Cowardly knight! ill fortune follow thee!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Retreat: excursions. JOAN LA PUCELLE, ALENCON,
+	and CHARLES fly]
+
+BEDFORD	Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please,
+	For I have seen our enemies' overthrow.
+	What is the trust or strength of foolish man?
+	They that of late were daring with their scoffs
+	Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves.
+
+	[BEDFORD dies, and is carried in by two in his chair]
+
+	[An alarum. Re-enter TALBOT, BURGUNDY, and the rest]
+
+TALBOT	Lost, and recover'd in a day again!
+	This is a double honour, Burgundy:
+	Yet heavens have glory for this victory!
+
+BURGUNDY	Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy
+	Enshrines thee in his heart and there erects
+	Thy noble deeds as valour's monuments.
+
+TALBOT	Thanks, gentle duke. But where is Pucelle now?
+	I think her old familiar is asleep:
+	Now where's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks?
+	What, all amort? Rouen hangs her head for grief
+	That such a valiant company are fled.
+	Now will we take some order in the town,
+	Placing therein some expert officers,
+	And then depart to Paris to the king,
+	For there young Henry with his nobles lie.
+
+BURGUNDY	What wills Lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy.
+
+TALBOT	But yet, before we go, let's not forget
+	The noble Duke of Bedford late deceased,
+	But see his exequies fulfill'd in Rouen:
+	A braver soldier never couched lance,
+	A gentler heart did never sway in court;
+	But kings and mightiest potentates must die,
+	For that's the end of human misery.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The plains near Rouen.
+
+
+	[Enter CHARLES, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON, JOAN
+	LA PUCELLE, and forces]
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Dismay not, princes, at this accident,
+	Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered:
+	Care is no cure, but rather corrosive,
+	For things that are not to be remedied.
+	Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while
+	And like a peacock sweep along his tail;
+	We'll pull his plumes and take away his train,
+	If Dauphin and the rest will be but ruled.
+
+CHARLES	We have been guided by thee hitherto,
+	And of thy cunning had no diffidence:
+	One sudden foil shall never breed distrust.
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Search out thy wit for secret policies,
+	And we will make thee famous through the world.
+
+ALENCON	We'll set thy statue in some holy place,
+	And have thee reverenced like a blessed saint:
+	Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:
+	By fair persuasions mix'd with sugar'd words
+	We will entice the Duke of Burgundy
+	To leave the Talbot and to follow us.
+
+CHARLES	Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that,
+	France were no place for Henry's warriors;
+	Nor should that nation boast it so with us,
+	But be extirped from our provinces.
+
+ALENCON	For ever should they be expulsed from France
+	And not have title of an earldom here.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Your honours shall perceive how I will work
+	To bring this matter to the wished end.
+
+	[Drum sounds afar off]
+
+	Hark! by the sound of drum you may perceive
+	Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.
+
+	[Here sound an English march. Enter, and pass over
+	at a distance, TALBOT and his forces]
+
+	There goes the Talbot, with his colours spread,
+	And all the troops of English after him.
+
+	[French march. Enter BURGUNDY and forces]
+
+	Now in the rearward comes the duke and his:
+	Fortune in favour makes him lag behind.
+	Summon a parley; we will talk with him.
+
+	[Trumpets sound a parley]
+
+CHARLES	A parley with the Duke of Burgundy!
+
+BURGUNDY	Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.
+
+BURGUNDY	What say'st thou, Charles? for I am marching hence.
+
+CHARLES	Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France!
+	Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.
+
+BURGUNDY	Speak on; but be not over-tedious.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
+	And see the cities and the towns defaced
+	By wasting ruin of the cruel foe.
+	As looks the mother on her lowly babe
+	When death doth close his tender dying eyes,
+	See, see the pining malady of France;
+	Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
+	Which thou thyself hast given her woful breast.
+	O, turn thy edged sword another way;
+	Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.
+	One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bosom
+	Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore:
+	Return thee therefore with a flood of tears,
+	And wash away thy country's stained spots.
+
+BURGUNDY	Either she hath bewitch'd me with her words,
+	Or nature makes me suddenly relent.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,
+	Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
+	Who joint'st thou with but with a lordly nation
+	That will not trust thee but for profit's sake?
+	When Talbot hath set footing once in France
+	And fashion'd thee that instrument of ill,
+	Who then but English Henry will be lord
+	And thou be thrust out like a fugitive?
+	Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof,
+	Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe?
+	And was he not in England prisoner?
+	But when they heard he was thine enemy,
+	They set him free without his ransom paid,
+	In spite of Burgundy and all his friends.
+	See, then, thou fight'st against thy countrymen
+	And joint'st with them will be thy slaughtermen.
+	Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord:
+	Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms.
+
+BURGUNDY	I am vanquished; these haughty words of hers
+	Have batter'd me like roaring cannon-shot,
+	And made me almost yield upon my knees.
+	Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen,
+	And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace:
+	My forces and my power of men are yours:
+	So farewell, Talbot; I'll no longer trust thee.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	[Aside]  Done like a Frenchman: turn, and turn again!
+
+CHARLES	Welcome, brave duke! thy friendship makes us fresh.
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS	And doth beget new courage in our breasts.
+
+ALENCON	Pucelle hath bravely play'd her part in this,
+	And doth deserve a coronet of gold.
+
+CHARLES	Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers,
+	And seek how we may prejudice the foe.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Paris. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, BISHOP OF
+	WINCHESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, WARWICK,
+	EXETER, VERNON	BASSET, and others. To them
+	with his Soldiers, TALBOT]
+
+TALBOT	My gracious prince, and honourable peers,
+	Hearing of your arrival in this realm,
+	I have awhile given truce unto my wars,
+	To do my duty to my sovereign:
+	In sign, whereof, this arm, that hath reclaim'd
+	To your obedience fifty fortresses,
+	Twelve cities and seven walled towns of strength,
+	Beside five hundred prisoners of esteem,
+	Lets fall his sword before your highness' feet,
+	And with submissive loyalty of heart
+	Ascribes the glory of his conquest got
+	First to my God and next unto your grace.
+
+	[Kneels]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Gloucester,
+	That hath so long been resident in France?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Yes, if it please your majesty, my liege.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Welcome, brave captain and victorious lord!
+	When I was young, as yet I am not old,
+	I do remember how my father said
+	A stouter champion never handled sword.
+	Long since we were resolved of your truth,
+	Your faithful service and your toil in war;
+	Yet never have you tasted our reward,
+	Or been reguerdon'd with so much as thanks,
+	Because till now we never saw your face:
+	Therefore, stand up; and, for these good deserts,
+	We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury;
+	And in our coronation take your place.
+
+	[Sennet. Flourish. Exeunt all but VERNON and BASSET]
+
+VERNON	Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea,
+	Disgracing of these colours that I wear
+	In honour of my noble Lord of York:
+	Darest thou maintain the former words thou spakest?
+
+BASSET	Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage
+	The envious barking of your saucy tongue
+	Against my lord the Duke of Somerset.
+
+VERNON	Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is.
+
+BASSET	Why, what is he? as good a man as York.
+
+VERNON	Hark ye; not so: in witness, take ye that.
+
+	[Strikes him]
+
+BASSET	Villain, thou know'st the law of arms is such
+	That whoso draws a sword, 'tis present death,
+	Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood.
+	But I'll unto his majesty, and crave
+	I may have liberty to venge this wrong;
+	When thou shalt see I'll meet thee to thy cost.
+
+VERNON	Well, miscreant, I'll be there as soon as you;
+	And, after, meet you sooner than you would.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Paris. A hall of state.
+
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, BISHOP OF
+	WINCHESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, WARWICK,
+	TALBOT, EXETER, the Governor, of Paris, and others]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Lord bishop, set the crown upon his head.
+
+BISHOP
+OF WINCHESTER	God save King Henry, of that name the sixth!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Now, governor of Paris, take your oath,
+	That you elect no other king but him;
+	Esteem none friends but such as are his friends,
+	And none your foes but such as shall pretend
+	Malicious practises against his state:
+	This shall ye do, so help you righteous God!
+
+	[Enter FASTOLFE]
+
+FASTOLFE	My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Calais,
+	To haste unto your coronation,
+	A letter was deliver'd to my hands,
+	Writ to your grace from the Duke of Burgundy.
+
+TALBOT	Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee!
+	I vow'd, base knight, when I did meet thee next,
+	To tear the garter from thy craven's leg,
+
+	[Plucking it off]
+
+	Which I have done, because unworthily
+	Thou wast installed in that high degree.
+	Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest
+	This dastard, at the battle of Patay,
+	When but in all I was six thousand strong
+	And that the French were almost ten to one,
+	Before we met or that a stroke was given,
+	Like to a trusty squire did run away:
+	In which assault we lost twelve hundred men;
+	Myself and divers gentlemen beside
+	Were there surprised and taken prisoners.
+	Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss;
+	Or whether that such cowards ought to wear
+	This ornament of knighthood, yea or no.
+
+GLOUCESTER	To say the truth, this fact was infamous
+	And ill beseeming any common man,
+	Much more a knight, a captain and a leader.
+
+TALBOT	When first this order was ordain'd, my lords,
+	Knights of the garter were of noble birth,
+	Valiant and virtuous, full of haughty courage,
+	Such as were grown to credit by the wars;
+	Not fearing death, nor shrinking for distress,
+	But always resolute in most extremes.
+	He then that is not furnish'd in this sort
+	Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight,
+	Profaning this most honourable order,
+	And should, if I were worthy to be judge,
+	Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain
+	That doth presume to boast of gentle blood.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear'st thy doom!
+	Be packing, therefore, thou that wast a knight:
+	Henceforth we banish thee, on pain of death.
+
+	[Exit FASTOLFE]
+
+	And now, my lord protector, view the letter
+	Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What means his grace, that he hath changed his style?
+	No more but, plain and bluntly, 'To the king!'
+	Hath he forgot he is his sovereign?
+	Or doth this churlish superscription
+	Pretend some alteration in good will?
+	What's here?
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'I have, upon especial cause,
+	Moved with compassion of my country's wreck,
+	Together with the pitiful complaints
+	Of such as your oppression feeds upon,
+	Forsaken your pernicious faction
+	And join'd with Charles, the rightful King of France.'
+	O monstrous treachery! can this be so,
+	That in alliance, amity and oaths,
+	There should be found such false dissembling guile?
+
+KING HENRY VI	What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?
+
+GLOUCESTER	He doth, my lord, and is become your foe.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Is that the worst this letter doth contain?
+
+GLOUCESTER	It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Why, then, Lord Talbot there shall talk with him
+	And give him chastisement for this abuse.
+	How say you, my lord? are you not content?
+
+TALBOT	Content, my liege! yes, but that I am prevented,
+	I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Then gather strength and march unto him straight:
+	Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason
+	And what offence it is to flout his friends.
+
+TALBOT	I go, my lord, in heart desiring still
+	You may behold confusion of your foes.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter VERNON and BASSET]
+
+VERNON	Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign.
+
+BASSET	And me, my lord, grant me the combat too.
+
+YORK	This is my servant: hear him, noble prince.
+
+SOMERSET	And this is mine: sweet Henry, favour him.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Be patient, lords; and give them leave to speak.
+	Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim?
+	And wherefore crave you combat? or with whom?
+
+VERNON	With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong.
+
+BASSET	And I with him; for he hath done me wrong.
+
+KING HENRY VI	What is that wrong whereof you both complain?
+	First let me know, and then I'll answer you.
+
+BASSET	Crossing the sea from England into France,
+	This fellow here, with envious carping tongue,
+	Upbraided me about the rose I wear;
+	Saying, the sanguine colour of the leaves
+	Did represent my master's blushing cheeks,
+	When stubbornly he did repugn the truth
+	About a certain question in the law
+	Argued betwixt the Duke of York and him;
+	With other vile and ignominious terms:
+	In confutation of which rude reproach
+	And in defence of my lord's worthiness,
+	I crave the benefit of law of arms.
+
+VERNON	And that is my petition, noble lord:
+	For though he seem with forged quaint conceit
+	To set a gloss upon his bold intent,
+	Yet know, my lord, I was provoked by him;
+	And he first took exceptions at this badge,
+	Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower
+	Bewray'd the faintness of my master's heart.
+
+YORK	Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?
+
+SOMERSET	Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out,
+	Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Good Lord, what madness rules in brainsick men,
+	When for so slight and frivolous a cause
+	Such factious emulations shall arise!
+	Good cousins both, of York and Somerset,
+	Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.
+
+YORK	Let this dissension first be tried by fight,
+	And then your highness shall command a peace.
+
+SOMERSET	The quarrel toucheth none but us alone;
+	Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.
+
+YORK	There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset.
+
+VERNON	Nay, let it rest where it began at first.
+
+BASSET	Confirm it so, mine honourable lord.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Confirm it so! Confounded be your strife!
+	And perish ye, with your audacious prate!
+	Presumptuous vassals, are you not ashamed
+	With this immodest clamorous outrage
+	To trouble and disturb the king and us?
+	And you, my lords, methinks you do not well
+	To bear with their perverse objections;
+	Much less to take occasion from their mouths
+	To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves:
+	Let me persuade you take a better course.
+
+EXETER	It grieves his highness: good my lords, be friends.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Come hither, you that would be combatants:
+	Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour,
+	Quite to forget this quarrel and the cause.
+	And you, my lords, remember where we are,
+	In France, amongst a fickle wavering nation:
+	If they perceive dissension in our looks
+	And that within ourselves we disagree,
+	How will their grudging stomachs be provoked
+	To wilful disobedience, and rebel!
+	Beside, what infamy will there arise,
+	When foreign princes shall be certified
+	That for a toy, a thing of no regard,
+	King Henry's peers and chief nobility
+	Destroy'd themselves, and lost the realm of France!
+	O, think upon the conquest of my father,
+	My tender years, and let us not forego
+	That for a trifle that was bought with blood
+	Let me be umpire in this doubtful strife.
+	I see no reason, if I wear this rose,
+
+	[Putting on a red rose]
+
+	That any one should therefore be suspicious
+	I more incline to Somerset than York:
+	Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both:
+	As well they may upbraid me with my crown,
+	Because, forsooth, the king of Scots is crown'd.
+	But your discretions better can persuade
+	Than I am able to instruct or teach:
+	And therefore, as we hither came in peace,
+	So let us still continue peace and love.
+	Cousin of York, we institute your grace
+	To be our regent in these parts of France:
+	And, good my Lord of Somerset, unite
+	Your troops of horsemen with his bands of foot;
+	And, like true subjects, sons of your progenitors,
+	Go cheerfully together and digest.
+	Your angry choler on your enemies.
+	Ourself, my lord protector and the rest
+	After some respite will return to Calais;
+	From thence to England; where I hope ere long
+	To be presented, by your victories,
+	With Charles, Alencon and that traitorous rout.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt all but YORK, WARWICK, EXETER
+	and VERNON]
+
+WARWICK	My Lord of York, I promise you, the king
+	Prettily, methought, did play the orator.
+
+YORK	And so he did; but yet I like it not,
+	In that he wears the badge of Somerset.
+
+WARWICK	Tush, that was but his fancy, blame him not;
+	I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm.
+
+YORK	An if I wist he did,--but let it rest;
+	Other affairs must now be managed.
+
+	[Exeunt all but EXETER]
+
+EXETER	Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice;
+	For, had the passions of thy heart burst out,
+	I fear we should have seen decipher'd there
+	More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils,
+	Than yet can be imagined or supposed.
+	But howsoe'er, no simple man that sees
+	This jarring discord of nobility,
+	This shouldering of each other in the court,
+	This factious bandying of their favourites,
+	But that it doth presage some ill event.
+	'Tis much when sceptres are in children's hands;
+	But more when envy breeds unkind division;
+	There comes the rain, there begins confusion.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Before Bourdeaux.
+
+
+	[Enter TALBOT, with trump and drum]
+
+TALBOT	Go to the gates of Bourdeaux, trumpeter:
+	Summon their general unto the wall.
+
+	[Trumpet sounds. Enter General and others, aloft]
+
+	English John Talbot, captains, calls you forth,
+	Servant in arms to Harry King of England;
+	And thus he would: Open your city gates;
+	Be humble to us; call my sovereign yours,
+	And do him homage as obedient subjects;
+	And I'll withdraw me and my bloody power:
+	But, if you frown upon this proffer'd peace,
+	You tempt the fury of my three attendants,
+	Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire;
+	Who in a moment even with the earth
+	Shall lay your stately and air-braving towers,
+	If you forsake the offer of their love.
+
+General	Thou ominous and fearful owl of death,
+	Our nation's terror and their bloody scourge!
+	The period of thy tyranny approacheth.
+	On us thou canst not enter but by death;
+	For, I protest, we are well fortified
+	And strong enough to issue out and fight:
+	If thou retire, the Dauphin, well appointed,
+	Stands with the snares of war to tangle thee:
+	On either hand thee there are squadrons pitch'd,
+	To wall thee from the liberty of flight;
+	And no way canst thou turn thee for redress,
+	But death doth front thee with apparent spoil
+	And pale destruction meets thee in the face.
+	Ten thousand French have ta'en the sacrament
+	To rive their dangerous artillery
+	Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot.
+	Lo, there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant man,
+	Of an invincible unconquer'd spirit!
+	This is the latest glory of thy praise
+	That I, thy enemy, due thee withal;
+	For ere the glass, that now begins to run,
+	Finish the process of his sandy hour,
+	These eyes, that see thee now well coloured,
+	Shall see thee wither'd, bloody, pale and dead.
+
+	[Drum afar off]
+
+	Hark! hark! the Dauphin's drum, a warning bell,
+	Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul;
+	And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.
+
+	[Exeunt General, &c]
+
+TALBOT	He fables not; I hear the enemy:
+	Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their wings.
+	O, negligent and heedless discipline!
+	How are we park'd and bounded in a pale,
+	A little herd of England's timorous deer,
+	Mazed with a yelping kennel of French curs!
+	If we be English deer, be then in blood;
+	Not rascal-like, to fall down with a pinch,
+	But rather, moody-mad and desperate stags,
+	Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of steel
+	And make the cowards stand aloof at bay:
+	Sell every man his life as dear as mine,
+	And they shall find dear deer of us, my friends.
+	God and Saint George, Talbot and England's right,
+	Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Plains in Gascony.
+
+
+	[Enter a Messenger that meets YORK. Enter YORK
+	with trumpet and many Soldiers]
+
+YORK	Are not the speedy scouts return'd again,
+	That dogg'd the mighty army of the Dauphin?
+
+Messenger	They are return'd, my lord, and give it out
+	That he is march'd to Bourdeaux with his power,
+	To fight with Talbot: as he march'd along,
+	By your espials were discovered
+	Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin led,
+	Which join'd with him and made their march for Bourdeaux.
+
+YORK	A plague upon that villain Somerset,
+	That thus delays my promised supply
+	Of horsemen, that were levied for this siege!
+	Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid,
+	And I am lowted by a traitor villain
+	And cannot help the noble chevalier:
+	God comfort him in this necessity!
+	If he miscarry, farewell wars in France.
+
+	[Enter Sir William LUCY]
+
+LUCY	Thou princely leader of our English strength,
+	Never so needful on the earth of France,
+	Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot,
+	Who now is girdled with a waist of iron
+	And hemm'd about with grim destruction:
+	To Bourdeaux, warlike duke! to Bourdeaux, York!
+	Else, farewell Talbot, France, and England's honour.
+
+YORK	O God, that Somerset, who in proud heart
+	Doth stop my cornets, were in Talbot's place!
+	So should we save a valiant gentleman
+	By forfeiting a traitor and a coward.
+	Mad ire and wrathful fury makes me weep,
+	That thus we die, while remiss traitors sleep.
+
+LUCY	O, send some succor to the distress'd lord!
+
+YORK	He dies, we lose; I break my warlike word;
+	We mourn, France smiles; we lose, they daily get;
+	All 'long of this vile traitor Somerset.
+
+LUCY	Then God take mercy on brave Talbot's soul;
+	And on his son young John, who two hours since
+	I met in travel toward his warlike father!
+	This seven years did not Talbot see his son;
+	And now they meet where both their lives are done.
+
+YORK	Alas, what joy shall noble Talbot have
+	To bid his young son welcome to his grave?
+	Away! vexation almost stops my breath,
+	That sunder'd friends greet in the hour of death.
+	Lucy, farewell; no more my fortune can,
+	But curse the cause I cannot aid the man.
+	Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away,
+	'Long all of Somerset and his delay.
+
+	[Exit, with his soldiers]
+
+LUCY	Thus, while the vulture of sedition
+	Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders,
+	Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss
+	The conquest of our scarce cold conqueror,
+	That ever living man of memory,
+	Henry the Fifth: whiles they each other cross,
+	Lives, honours, lands and all hurry to loss.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Other plains in Gascony.
+
+
+	[Enter SOMERSET, with his army; a Captain of
+	TALBOT's with him]
+
+SOMERSET	It is too late; I cannot send them now:
+	This expedition was by York and Talbot
+	Too rashly plotted: all our general force
+	Might with a sally of the very town
+	Be buckled with: the over-daring Talbot
+	Hath sullied all his gloss of former honour
+	By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure:
+	York set him on to fight and die in shame,
+	That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name.
+
+Captain	Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me
+	Set from our o'ermatch'd forces forth for aid.
+
+	[Enter Sir William LUCY]
+
+SOMERSET	How now, Sir William! whither were you sent?
+
+LUCY	Whither, my lord? from bought and sold Lord Talbot;
+	Who, ring'd about with bold adversity,
+	Cries out for noble York and Somerset,
+	To beat assailing death from his weak legions:
+	And whiles the honourable captain there
+	Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs,
+	And, in advantage lingering, looks for rescue,
+	You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honour,
+	Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.
+	Let not your private discord keep away
+	The levied succors that should lend him aid,
+	While he, renowned noble gentleman,
+	Yields up his life unto a world of odds:
+	Orleans the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy,
+	Alencon, Reignier, compass him about,
+	And Talbot perisheth by your default.
+
+SOMERSET	York set him on; York should have sent him aid.
+
+LUCY	And York as fast upon your grace exclaims;
+	Swearing that you withhold his levied host,
+	Collected for this expedition.
+
+SOMERSET	York lies; he might have sent and had the horse;
+	I owe him little duty, and less love;
+	And take foul scorn to fawn on him by sending.
+
+LUCY	The fraud of England, not the force of France,
+	Hath now entrapp'd the noble-minded Talbot:
+	Never to England shall he bear his life;
+	But dies, betray'd to fortune by your strife.
+
+SOMERSET	Come, go; I will dispatch the horsemen straight:
+	Within six hours they will be at his aid.
+
+LUCY	Too late comes rescue: he is ta'en or slain;
+	For fly he could not, if he would have fled;
+	And fly would Talbot never, though he might.
+
+SOMERSET	If he be dead, brave Talbot, then adieu!
+
+LUCY	His fame lives in the world, his shame in you.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The English camp near Bourdeaux.
+
+
+	[Enter TALBOT and JOHN his son]
+
+TALBOT	O young John Talbot! I did send for thee
+	To tutor thee in stratagems of war,
+	That Talbot's name might be in thee revived
+	When sapless age and weak unable limbs
+	Should bring thy father to his drooping chair.
+	But, O malignant and ill-boding stars!
+	Now thou art come unto a feast of death,
+	A terrible and unavoided danger:
+	Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse;
+	And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape
+	By sudden flight: come, dally not, be gone.
+
+JOHN TALBOT	Is my name Talbot? and am I your son?
+	And shall I fly? O if you love my mother,
+	Dishonour not her honourable name,
+	To make a bastard and a slave of me!
+	The world will say, he is not Talbot's blood,
+	That basely fled when noble Talbot stood.
+
+TALBOT	Fly, to revenge my death, if I be slain.
+
+JOHN TALBOT	He that flies so will ne'er return again.
+
+TALBOT	If we both stay, we both are sure to die.
+
+JOHN TALBOT	Then let me stay; and, father, do you fly:
+	Your loss is great, so your regard should be;
+	My worth unknown, no loss is known in me.
+	Upon my death the French can little boast;
+	In yours they will, in you all hopes are lost.
+	Flight cannot stain the honour you have won;
+	But mine it will, that no exploit have done:
+	You fled for vantage, everyone will swear;
+	But, if I bow, they'll say it was for fear.
+	There is no hope that ever I will stay,
+	If the first hour I shrink and run away.
+	Here on my knee I beg mortality,
+	Rather than life preserved with infamy.
+
+TALBOT	Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb?
+
+JOHN TALBOT	Ay, rather than I'll shame my mother's womb.
+
+TALBOT	Upon my blessing, I command thee go.
+
+JOHN TALBOT	To fight I will, but not to fly the foe.
+
+TALBOT	Part of thy father may be saved in thee.
+
+JOHN TALBOT	No part of him but will be shame in me.
+
+TALBOT	Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not lose it.
+
+JOHN TALBOT	Yes, your renowned name: shall flight abuse it?
+
+TALBOT	Thy father's charge shall clear thee from that stain.
+
+JOHN TALBOT	You cannot witness for me, being slain.
+	If death be so apparent, then both fly.
+
+TALBOT	And leave my followers here to fight and die?
+	My age was never tainted with such shame.
+
+JOHN TALBOT	And shall my youth be guilty of such blame?
+	No more can I be sever'd from your side,
+	Than can yourself yourself in twain divide:
+	Stay, go, do what you will, the like do I;
+	For live I will not, if my father die.
+
+TALBOT	Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son,
+	Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon.
+	Come, side by side together live and die.
+	And soul with soul from France to heaven fly.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	A field of battle.
+
+
+	[Alarum: excursions, wherein JOHN TALBOT is
+	hemmed about, and TALBOT rescues him]
+
+TALBOT	Saint George and victory! fight, soldiers, fight.
+	The regent hath with Talbot broke his word
+	And left us to the rage of France his sword.
+	Where is John Talbot? Pause, and take thy breath;
+	I gave thee life and rescued thee from death.
+
+JOHN TALBOT	O, twice my father, twice am I thy son!
+	The life thou gavest me first was lost and done,
+	Till with thy warlike sword, despite of late,
+	To my determined time thou gavest new date.
+
+TALBOT	When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword struck fire,
+	It warm'd thy father's heart with proud desire
+	Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age,
+	Quicken'd with youthful spleen and warlike rage,
+	Beat down Alencon, Orleans, Burgundy,
+	And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee.
+	The ireful bastard Orleans, that drew blood
+	From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood
+	Of thy first fight, I soon encountered,
+	And interchanging blows I quickly shed
+	Some of his bastard blood; and in disgrace
+	Bespoke him thus; 'Contaminated, base
+	And misbegotten blood I spill of thine,
+	Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine
+	Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy:'
+	Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy,
+	Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care,
+	Art thou not weary, John? how dost thou fare?
+	Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly,
+	Now thou art seal'd the son of chivalry?
+	Fly, to revenge my death when I am dead:
+	The help of one stands me in little stead.
+	O, too much folly is it, well I wot,
+	To hazard all our lives in one small boat!
+	If I to-day die not with Frenchmen's rage,
+	To-morrow I shall die with mickle age:
+	By me they nothing gain an if I stay;
+	'Tis but the shortening of my life one day:
+	In thee thy mother dies, our household's name,
+	My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame:
+	All these and more we hazard by thy stay;
+	All these are saved if thou wilt fly away.
+
+JOHN TALBOT	The sword of Orleans hath not made me smart;
+	These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart:
+	On that advantage, bought with such a shame,
+	To save a paltry life and slay bright fame,
+	Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly,
+	The coward horse that bears me fail and die!
+	And like me to the peasant boys of France,
+	To be shame's scorn and subject of mischance!
+	Surely, by all the glory you have won,
+	An if I fly, I am not Talbot's son:
+	Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot;
+	If son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.
+
+TALBOT	Then follow thou thy desperate sire of Crete,
+	Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet:
+	If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side;
+	And, commendable proved, let's die in pride.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Alarum: excursions. Enter TALBOT led by a Servant]
+
+TALBOT	Where is my other life? mine own is gone;
+	O, where's young Talbot? where is valiant John?
+	Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity,
+	Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee:
+	When he perceived me shrink and on my knee,
+	His bloody sword he brandish'd over me,
+	And, like a hungry lion, did commence
+	Rough deeds of rage and stern impatience;
+	But when my angry guardant stood alone,
+	Tendering my ruin and assail'd of none,
+	Dizzy-eyed fury and great rage of heart
+	Suddenly made him from my side to start
+	Into the clustering battle of the French;
+	And in that sea of blood my boy did drench
+	His over-mounting spirit, and there died,
+	My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.
+
+Servant	O, my dear lord, lo, where your son is borne!
+
+	[Enter Soldiers, with the body of JOHN TALBOT]
+
+TALBOT	Thou antic death, which laugh'st us here to scorn,
+	Anon, from thy insulting tyranny,
+	Coupled in bonds of perpetuity,
+	Two Talbots, winged through the lither sky,
+	In thy despite shall 'scape mortality.
+	O, thou, whose wounds become hard-favour'd death,
+	Speak to thy father ere thou yield thy breath!
+	Brave death by speaking, whether he will or no;
+	Imagine him a Frenchman and thy foe.
+	Poor boy! he smiles, methinks, as who should say,
+	Had death been French, then death had died to-day.
+	Come, come and lay him in his father's arms:
+	My spirit can no longer bear these harms.
+	Soldiers, adieu! I have what I would have,
+	Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+	[Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, BURGUNDY, BASTARD OF
+	ORLEANS, JOAN LA PUCELLE, and forces]
+
+CHARLES	Had York and Somerset brought rescue in,
+	We should have found a bloody day of this.
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS	How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging-wood,
+	Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood!
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said:
+	'Thou maiden youth, be vanquish'd by a maid:'
+	But, with a proud majestical high scorn,
+	He answer'd thus: 'Young Talbot was not born
+	To be the pillage of a giglot wench:'
+	So, rushing in the bowels of the French,
+	He left me proudly, as unworthy fight.
+
+BURGUNDY	Doubtless he would have made a noble knight;
+	See, where he lies inhearsed in the arms
+	Of the most bloody nurser of his harms!
+
+BASTARD OF ORLEANS	Hew them to pieces, hack their bones asunder
+	Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder.
+
+CHARLES	O, no, forbear! for that which we have fled
+	During the life, let us not wrong it dead.
+
+	[Enter Sir William LUCY, attended; Herald of the
+	French preceding]
+
+LUCY	Herald, conduct me to the Dauphin's tent,
+	To know who hath obtained the glory of the day.
+
+CHARLES	On what submissive message art thou sent?
+
+LUCY	Submission, Dauphin! 'tis a mere French word;
+	We English warriors wot not what it means.
+	I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta'en
+	And to survey the bodies of the dead.
+
+CHARLES	For prisoners ask'st thou? hell our prison is.
+	But tell me whom thou seek'st.
+
+LUCY	But where's the great Alcides of the field,
+	Valiant Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury,
+	Created, for his rare success in arms,
+	Great Earl of Washford, Waterford and Valence;
+	Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield,
+	Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Verdun of Alton,
+	Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of Sheffield,
+	The thrice-victorious Lord of Falconbridge;
+	Knight of the noble order of Saint George,
+	Worthy Saint Michael and the Golden Fleece;
+	Great marshal to Henry the Sixth
+	Of all his wars within the realm of France?
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Here is a silly stately style indeed!
+	The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath,
+	Writes not so tedious a style as this.
+	Him that thou magnifiest with all these titles
+	Stinking and fly-blown lies here at our feet.
+
+LUCY	Is Talbot slain, the Frenchmen's only scourge,
+	Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis?
+	O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turn'd,
+	That I in rage might shoot them at your faces!
+	O, that I could but call these dead to life!
+	It were enough to fright the realm of France:
+	Were but his picture left amongst you here,
+	It would amaze the proudest of you all.
+	Give me their bodies, that I may bear them hence
+	And give them burial as beseems their worth.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	I think this upstart is old Talbot's ghost,
+	He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit.
+	For God's sake let him have 'em; to keep them here,
+	They would but stink, and putrefy the air.
+
+CHARLES	Go, take their bodies hence.
+
+LUCY	I'll bear them hence; but from their ashes shall be rear'd
+	A phoenix that shall make all France afeard.
+
+CHARLES	So we be rid of them, do with 'em what thou wilt.
+	And now to Paris, in this conquering vein:
+	All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's slain.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, and EXETER]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Have you perused the letters from the pope,
+	The emperor and the Earl of Armagnac?
+
+GLOUCESTER	I have, my lord: and their intent is this:
+	They humbly sue unto your excellence
+	To have a godly peace concluded of
+	Between the realms of England and of France.
+
+KING HENRY VI	How doth your grace affect their motion?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Well, my good lord; and as the only means
+	To stop effusion of our Christian blood
+	And 'stablish quietness on every side.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Ay, marry, uncle; for I always thought
+	It was both impious and unnatural
+	That such immanity and bloody strife
+	Should reign among professors of one faith.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Beside, my lord, the sooner to effect
+	And surer bind this knot of amity,
+	The Earl of Armagnac, near knit to Charles,
+	A man of great authority in France,
+	Proffers his only daughter to your grace
+	In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Marriage, uncle! alas, my years are young!
+	And fitter is my study and my books
+	Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
+	Yet call the ambassador; and, as you please,
+	So let them have their answers every one:
+	I shall be well content with any choice
+	Tends to God's glory and my country's weal.
+
+	[Enter CARDINAL OF WINCHESTER in Cardinal's habit,
+	a Legate and two Ambassadors]
+
+EXETER	What! is my Lord of Winchester install'd,
+	And call'd unto a cardinal's degree?
+	Then I perceive that will be verified
+	Henry the Fifth did sometime prophesy,
+	'If once he come to be a cardinal,
+	He'll make his cap co-equal with the crown.'
+
+KING HENRY VI	My lords ambassadors, your several suits
+	Have been consider'd and debated on.
+	And therefore are we certainly resolved
+	To draw conditions of a friendly peace;
+	Which by my Lord of Winchester we mean
+	Shall be transported presently to France.
+
+GLOUCESTER	And for the proffer of my lord your master,
+	I have inform'd his highness so at large
+	As liking of the lady's virtuous gifts,
+	Her beauty and the value of her dower,
+	He doth intend she shall be England's queen.
+
+KING HENRY VI	In argument and proof of which contract,
+	Bear her this jewel, pledge of my affection.
+	And so, my lord protector, see them guarded
+	And safely brought to Dover; where inshipp'd
+	Commit them to the fortune of the sea.
+
+	[Exeunt all but CARDINAL OF WINCHESTER and Legate]
+
+CARDINAL
+OF WINCHESTER	Stay, my lord legate: you shall first receive
+	The sum of money which I promised
+	Should be deliver'd to his holiness
+	For clothing me in these grave ornaments.
+
+Legate	I will attend upon your lordship's leisure.
+
+CARDINAL
+OF WINCHESTER	[Aside]  Now Winchester will not submit, I trow,
+	Or be inferior to the proudest peer.
+	Humphrey of Gloucester, thou shalt well perceive
+	That, neither in birth or for authority,
+	The bishop will be overborne by thee:
+	I'll either make thee stoop and bend thy knee,
+	Or sack this country with a mutiny.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	France. Plains in Anjou.
+
+
+	[Enter CHARLES, BURGUNDY, ALENCON, BASTARD OF
+	ORLEANS, REIGNIER, JOAN LA PUCELLE, and forces]
+
+CHARLES	These news, my lord, may cheer our drooping spirits:
+	'Tis said the stout Parisians do revolt
+	And turn again unto the warlike French.
+
+ALENCON	Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France,
+	And keep not back your powers in dalliance.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us;
+	Else, ruin combat with their palaces!
+
+	[Enter Scout]
+
+Scout	Success unto our valiant general,
+	And happiness to his accomplices!
+
+CHARLES	What tidings send our scouts? I prithee, speak.
+
+Scout	The English army, that divided was
+	Into two parties, is now conjoined in one,
+	And means to give you battle presently.
+
+CHARLES	Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is;
+	But we will presently provide for them.
+
+BURGUNDY	I trust the ghost of Talbot is not there:
+	Now he is gone, my lord, you need not fear.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Of all base passions, fear is most accursed.
+	Command the conquest, Charles, it shall be thine,
+	Let Henry fret and all the world repine.
+
+CHARLES	Then on, my lords; and France be fortunate!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Before Angiers.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Excursions. Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE]
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	The regent conquers, and the Frenchmen fly.
+	Now help, ye charming spells and periapts;
+	And ye choice spirits that admonish me
+	And give me signs of future accidents.
+
+	[Thunder]
+
+	You speedy helpers, that are substitutes
+	Under the lordly monarch of the north,
+	Appear and aid me in this enterprise.
+
+	[Enter Fiends]
+
+	This speedy and quick appearance argues proof
+	Of your accustom'd diligence to me.
+	Now, ye familiar spirits, that are cull'd
+	Out of the powerful regions under earth,
+	Help me this once, that France may get the field.
+
+	[They walk, and speak not]
+
+	O, hold me not with silence over-long!
+	Where I was wont to feed you with my blood,
+	I'll lop a member off and give it you
+	In earnest of further benefit,
+	So you do condescend to help me now.
+
+	[They hang their heads]
+
+	No hope to have redress? My body shall
+	Pay recompense, if you will grant my suit.
+
+	[They shake their heads]
+
+	Cannot my body nor blood-sacrifice
+	Entreat you to your wonted furtherance?
+	Then take my soul, my body, soul and all,
+	Before that England give the French the foil.
+
+	[They depart]
+
+	See, they forsake me! Now the time is come
+	That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest
+	And let her head fall into England's lap.
+	My ancient incantations are too weak,
+	And hell too strong for me to buckle with:
+	Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Excursions. Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE fighting hand
+	to hand with YORK	JOAN LA PUCELLE is taken. The
+	French fly]
+
+YORK	Damsel of France, I think I have you fast:
+	Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms
+	And try if they can gain your liberty.
+	A goodly prize, fit for the devil's grace!
+	See, how the ugly wench doth bend her brows,
+	As if with Circe she would change my shape!
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Changed to a worser shape thou canst not be.
+
+YORK	O, Charles the Dauphin is a proper man;
+	No shape but his can please your dainty eye.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	A plaguing mischief light on Charles and thee!
+	And may ye both be suddenly surprised
+	By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!
+
+YORK	Fell banning hag, enchantress, hold thy tongue!
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	I prithee, give me leave to curse awhile.
+
+YORK	Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Alarum. Enter SUFFOLK with MARGARET in his hand]
+
+SUFFOLK	Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner.
+
+	[Gazes on her]
+
+	O fairest beauty, do not fear nor fly!
+	For I will touch thee but with reverent hands;
+	I kiss these fingers for eternal peace,
+	And lay them gently on thy tender side.
+	Who art thou? say, that I may honour thee.
+
+MARGARET	Margaret my name, and daughter to a king,
+	The King of Naples, whosoe'er thou art.
+
+SUFFOLK	An earl I am, and Suffolk am I call'd.
+	Be not offended, nature's miracle,
+	Thou art allotted to be ta'en by me:
+	So doth the swan her downy cygnets save,
+	Keeping them prisoner underneath her wings.
+	Yet, if this servile usage once offend.
+	Go, and be free again, as Suffolk's friend.
+
+	[She is going]
+
+	O, stay! I have no power to let her pass;
+	My hand would free her, but my heart says no
+	As plays the sun upon the glassy streams,
+	Twinkling another counterfeited beam,
+	So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes.
+	Fain would I woo her, yet I dare not speak:
+	I'll call for pen and ink, and write my mind.
+	Fie, de la Pole! disable not thyself;
+	Hast not a tongue? is she not here?
+	Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight?
+	Ay, beauty's princely majesty is such,
+	Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough.
+
+MARGARET	Say, Earl of Suffolk--if thy name be so--
+	What ransom must I pay before I pass?
+	For I perceive I am thy prisoner.
+
+SUFFOLK	How canst thou tell she will deny thy suit,
+	Before thou make a trial of her love?
+
+MARGARET	Why speak'st thou not? what ransom must I pay?
+
+SUFFOLK	She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd;
+	She is a woman, therefore to be won.
+
+MARGARET	Wilt thou accept of ransom? yea, or no.
+
+SUFFOLK	Fond man, remember that thou hast a wife;
+	Then how can Margaret be thy paramour?
+
+MARGARET	I were best to leave him, for he will not hear.
+
+SUFFOLK	There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling card.
+
+MARGARET	He talks at random; sure, the man is mad.
+
+SUFFOLK	And yet a dispensation may be had.
+
+MARGARET	And yet I would that you would answer me.
+
+SUFFOLK	I'll win this Lady Margaret. For whom?
+	Why, for my king: tush, that's a wooden thing!
+
+MARGARET	He talks of wood: it is some carpenter.
+
+SUFFOLK	Yet so my fancy may be satisfied,
+	And peace established between these realms
+	But there remains a scruple in that too;
+	For though her father be the King of Naples,
+	Duke of Anjou and Maine, yet is he poor,
+	And our nobility will scorn the match.
+
+MARGARET	Hear ye, captain, are you not at leisure?
+
+SUFFOLK	It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much.
+	Henry is youthful and will quickly yield.
+	Madam, I have a secret to reveal.
+
+MARGARET	What though I be enthrall'd? he seems a knight,
+	And will not any way dishonour me.
+
+SUFFOLK	Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.
+
+MARGARET	Perhaps I shall be rescued by the French;
+	And then I need not crave his courtesy.
+
+SUFFOLK	Sweet madam, give me a hearing in a cause--
+
+MARGARET	Tush, women have been captivate ere now.
+
+SUFFOLK	Lady, wherefore talk you so?
+
+MARGARET	I cry you mercy, 'tis but Quid for Quo.
+
+SUFFOLK	Say, gentle princess, would you not suppose
+	Your bondage happy, to be made a queen?
+
+MARGARET	To be a queen in bondage is more vile
+	Than is a slave in base servility;
+	For princes should be free.
+
+SUFFOLK	And so shall you,
+	If happy England's royal king be free.
+
+MARGARET	Why, what concerns his freedom unto me?
+
+SUFFOLK	I'll undertake to make thee Henry's queen,
+	To put a golden sceptre in thy hand
+	And set a precious crown upon thy head,
+	If thou wilt condescend to be my--
+
+MARGARET	What?
+
+SUFFOLK	His love.
+
+MARGARET	I am unworthy to be Henry's wife.
+
+SUFFOLK	No, gentle madam; I unworthy am
+	To woo so fair a dame to be his wife,
+	And have no portion in the choice myself.
+	How say you, madam, are ye so content?
+
+MARGARET	An if my father please, I am content.
+
+SUFFOLK	Then call our captains and our colours forth.
+	And, madam, at your father's castle walls
+	We'll crave a parley, to confer with him.
+
+	[A parley sounded. Enter REIGNIER on the walls]
+
+	See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner!
+
+REIGNIER	To whom?
+
+SUFFOLK	       To me.
+
+REIGNIER	                  Suffolk, what remedy?
+	I am a soldier, and unapt to weep,
+	Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness.
+
+SUFFOLK	Yes, there is remedy enough, my lord:
+	Consent, and for thy honour give consent,
+	Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king;
+	Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto;
+	And this her easy-held imprisonment
+	Hath gained thy daughter princely liberty.
+
+REIGNIER	Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?
+
+SUFFOLK	Fair Margaret knows
+	That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign.
+
+REIGNIER	Upon thy princely warrant, I descend
+	To give thee answer of thy just demand.
+
+	[Exit from the walls]
+
+SUFFOLK	And here I will expect thy coming.
+
+	[Trumpets sound. Enter REIGNIER, below]
+
+REIGNIER	Welcome, brave earl, into our territories:
+	Command in Anjou what your honour pleases.
+
+SUFFOLK	Thanks, Reignier, happy for so sweet a child,
+	Fit to be made companion with a king:
+	What answer makes your grace unto my suit?
+
+REIGNIER	Since thou dost deign to woo her little worth
+	To be the princely bride of such a lord;
+	Upon condition I may quietly
+	Enjoy mine own, the country Maine and Anjou,
+	Free from oppression or the stroke of war,
+	My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please.
+
+SUFFOLK	That is her ransom; I deliver her;
+	And those two counties I will undertake
+	Your grace shall well and quietly enjoy.
+
+REIGNIER	And I again, in Henry's royal name,
+	As deputy unto that gracious king,
+	Give thee her hand, for sign of plighted faith.
+
+SUFFOLK	Reignier of France, I give thee kingly thanks,
+	Because this is in traffic of a king.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	And yet, methinks, I could be well content
+	To be mine own attorney in this case.
+	I'll over then to England with this news,
+	And make this marriage to be solemnized.
+	So farewell, Reignier: set this diamond safe
+	In golden palaces, as it becomes.
+
+REIGNIER	I do embrace thee, as I would embrace
+	The Christian prince, King Henry, were he here.
+
+MARGARET	Farewell, my lord: good wishes, praise and prayers
+	Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret.
+
+	[Going]
+
+SUFFOLK	Farewell, sweet madam: but hark you, Margaret;
+	No princely commendations to my king?
+
+MARGARET	Such commendations as becomes a maid,
+	A virgin and his servant, say to him.
+
+SUFFOLK	Words sweetly placed and modestly directed.
+	But madam, I must trouble you again;
+	No loving token to his majesty?
+
+MARGARET	Yes, my good lord, a pure unspotted heart,
+	Never yet taint with love, I send the king.
+
+SUFFOLK	And this withal.
+
+	[Kisses her]
+
+MARGARET	That for thyself: I will not so presume
+	To send such peevish tokens to a king.
+
+	[Exeunt REIGNIER and MARGARET]
+
+SUFFOLK	O, wert thou for myself! But, Suffolk, stay;
+	Thou mayst not wander in that labyrinth;
+	There Minotaurs and ugly treasons lurk.
+	Solicit Henry with her wondrous praise:
+	Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount,
+	And natural graces that extinguish art;
+	Repeat their semblance often on the seas,
+	That, when thou comest to kneel at Henry's feet,
+	Thou mayst bereave him of his wits with wonder.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Camp of the YORK in Anjou.
+
+
+	[Enter YORK, WARWICK, and others]
+
+YORK	Bring forth that sorceress condemn'd to burn.
+
+	[Enter JOAN LA PUCELLE, guarded, and a Shepherd]
+
+Shepherd	Ah, Joan, this kills thy father's heart outright!
+	Have I sought every country far and near,
+	And, now it is my chance to find thee out,
+	Must I behold thy timeless cruel death?
+	Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll die with thee!
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Decrepit miser! base ignoble wretch!
+	I am descended of a gentler blood:
+	Thou art no father nor no friend of mine.
+
+Shepherd	Out, out! My lords, an please you, 'tis not so;
+	I did beget her, all the parish knows:
+	Her mother liveth yet, can testify
+	She was the first fruit of my bachelorship.
+
+WARWICK	Graceless! wilt thou deny thy parentage?
+
+YORK	This argues what her kind of life hath been,
+	Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes.
+
+Shepherd	Fie, Joan, that thou wilt be so obstacle!
+	God knows thou art a collop of my flesh;
+	And for thy sake have I shed many a tear:
+	Deny me not, I prithee, gentle Joan.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Peasant, avaunt! You have suborn'd this man,
+	Of purpose to obscure my noble birth.
+
+Shepherd	'Tis true, I gave a noble to the priest
+	The morn that I was wedded to her mother.
+	Kneel down and take my blessing, good my girl.
+	Wilt thou not stoop? Now cursed be the time
+	Of thy nativity! I would the milk
+	Thy mother gave thee when thou suck'dst her breast,
+	Had been a little ratsbane for thy sake!
+	Or else, when thou didst keep my lambs a-field,
+	I wish some ravenous wolf had eaten thee!
+	Dost thou deny thy father, cursed drab?
+	O, burn her, burn her! hanging is too good.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+YORK	Take her away; for she hath lived too long,
+	To fill the world with vicious qualities.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	First, let me tell you whom you have condemn'd:
+	Not me begotten of a shepherd swain,
+	But issued from the progeny of kings;
+	Virtuous and holy; chosen from above,
+	By inspiration of celestial grace,
+	To work exceeding miracles on earth.
+	I never had to do with wicked spirits:
+	But you, that are polluted with your lusts,
+	Stain'd with the guiltless blood of innocents,
+	Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices,
+	Because you want the grace that others have,
+	You judge it straight a thing impossible
+	To compass wonders but by help of devils.
+	No, misconceived! Joan of Arc hath been
+	A virgin from her tender infancy,
+	Chaste and immaculate in very thought;
+	Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effused,
+	Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.
+
+YORK	Ay, ay: away with her to execution!
+
+WARWICK	And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid,
+	Spare for no faggots, let there be enow:
+	Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,
+	That so her torture may be shortened.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts?
+	Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity,
+	That warranteth by law to be thy privilege.
+	I am with child, ye bloody homicides:
+	Murder not then the fruit within my womb,
+	Although ye hale me to a violent death.
+
+YORK	Now heaven forfend! the holy maid with child!
+
+WARWICK	The greatest miracle that e'er ye wrought:
+	Is all your strict preciseness come to this?
+
+YORK	She and the Dauphin have been juggling:
+	I did imagine what would be her refuge.
+
+WARWICK	Well, go to; we'll have no bastards live;
+	Especially since Charles must father it.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	You are deceived; my child is none of his:
+	It was Alencon that enjoy'd my love.
+
+YORK	Alencon! that notorious Machiavel!
+	It dies, an if it had a thousand lives.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	O, give me leave, I have deluded you:
+	'Twas neither Charles nor yet the duke I named,
+	But Reignier, king of Naples, that prevail'd.
+
+WARWICK	A married man! that's most intolerable.
+
+YORK	Why, here's a girl! I think she knows not well,
+	There were so many, whom she may accuse.
+
+WARWICK	It's sign she hath been liberal and free.
+
+YORK	And yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure.
+	Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat and thee:
+	Use no entreaty, for it is in vain.
+
+JOAN LA PUCELLE	Then lead me hence; with whom I leave my curse:
+	May never glorious sun reflex his beams
+	Upon the country where you make abode;
+	But darkness and the gloomy shade of death
+	Environ you, till mischief and despair
+	Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves!
+
+	[Exit, guarded]
+
+YORK	Break thou in pieces and consume to ashes,
+	Thou foul accursed minister of hell!
+
+	[Enter CARDINAL OF WINCHESTER, attended]
+
+CARDINAL
+OF WINCHESTER	Lord regent, I do greet your excellence
+	With letters of commission from the king.
+	For know, my lords, the states of Christendom,
+	Moved with remorse of these outrageous broils,
+	Have earnestly implored a general peace
+	Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French;
+	And here at hand the Dauphin and his train
+	Approacheth, to confer about some matter.
+
+YORK	 Is all our travail turn'd to this effect?
+	After the slaughter of so many peers,
+	So many captains, gentlemen and soldiers,
+	That in this quarrel have been overthrown
+	And sold their bodies for their country's benefit,
+	Shall we at last conclude effeminate peace?
+	Have we not lost most part of all the towns,
+	By treason, falsehood and by treachery,
+	Our great progenitors had conquered?
+	O Warwick, Warwick! I foresee with grief
+	The utter loss of all the realm of France.
+
+WARWICK	Be patient, York: if we conclude a peace,
+	It shall be with such strict and severe covenants
+	As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby.
+
+	[Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, BASTARD OF ORLEANS,
+	REIGNIER, and others]
+
+CHARLES	Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed
+	That peaceful truce shall be proclaim'd in France,
+	We come to be informed by yourselves
+	What the conditions of that league must be.
+
+YORK	Speak, Winchester; for boiling choler chokes
+	The hollow passage of my poison'd voice,
+	By sight of these our baleful enemies.
+
+CARDINAL
+OF WINCHESTER	Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus:
+	That, in regard King Henry gives consent,
+	Of mere compassion and of lenity,
+	To ease your country of distressful war,
+	And suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace,
+	You shall become true liegemen to his crown:
+	And Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear
+	To pay him tribute, submit thyself,
+	Thou shalt be placed as viceroy under him,
+	And still enjoy thy regal dignity.
+
+ALENCON	Must he be then as shadow of himself?
+	Adorn his temples with a coronet,
+	And yet, in substance and authority,
+	Retain but privilege of a private man?
+	This proffer is absurd and reasonless.
+
+CHARLES	'Tis known already that I am possess'd
+	With more than half the Gallian territories,
+	And therein reverenced for their lawful king:
+	Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquish'd,
+	Detract so much from that prerogative,
+	As to be call'd but viceroy of the whole?
+	No, lord ambassador, I'll rather keep
+	That which I have than, coveting for more,
+	Be cast from possibility of all.
+
+YORK	Insulting Charles! hast thou by secret means
+	Used intercession to obtain a league,
+	And, now the matter grows to compromise,
+	Stand'st thou aloof upon comparison?
+	Either accept the title thou usurp'st,
+	Of benefit proceeding from our king
+	And not of any challenge of desert,
+	Or we will plague thee with incessant wars.
+
+REIGNIER	My lord, you do not well in obstinacy
+	To cavil in the course of this contract:
+	If once it be neglected, ten to one
+	We shall not find like opportunity.
+
+ALENCON	To say the truth, it is your policy
+	To save your subjects from such massacre
+	And ruthless slaughters as are daily seen
+	By our proceeding in hostility;
+	And therefore take this compact of a truce,
+	Although you break it when your pleasure serves.
+
+WARWICK	How say'st thou, Charles? shall our condition stand?
+
+CHARLES	It shall;
+	Only reserved, you claim no interest
+	In any of our towns of garrison.
+
+YORK	Then swear allegiance to his majesty,
+	As thou art knight, never to disobey
+	Nor be rebellious to the crown of England,
+	Thou, nor thy nobles, to the crown of England.
+	So, now dismiss your army when ye please:
+	Hang up your ensign, let your drums be still,
+	For here we entertain a solemn peace.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	1 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter SUFFOLK in conference with KING HENRY VI,
+	GLOUCESTER and EXETER]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Your wondrous rare description, noble earl,
+	Of beauteous Margaret hath astonish'd me:
+	Her virtues graced with external gifts
+	Do breed love's settled passions in my heart:
+	And like as rigor of tempestuous gusts
+	Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide,
+	So am I driven by breath of her renown
+	Either to suffer shipwreck or arrive
+	Where I may have fruition of her love.
+
+SUFFOLK	Tush, my good lord, this superficial tale
+	Is but a preface of her worthy praise;
+	The chief perfections of that lovely dame
+	Had I sufficient skill to utter them,
+	Would make a volume of enticing lines,
+	Able to ravish any dull conceit:
+	And, which is more, she is not so divine,
+	So full-replete with choice of all delights,
+	But with as humble lowliness of mind
+	She is content to be at your command;
+	Command, I mean, of virtuous chaste intents,
+	To love and honour Henry as her lord.
+
+KING HENRY VI	And otherwise will Henry ne'er presume.
+	Therefore, my lord protector, give consent
+	That Margaret may be England's royal queen.
+
+GLOUCESTER	So should I give consent to flatter sin.
+	You know, my lord, your highness is betroth'd
+	Unto another lady of esteem:
+	How shall we then dispense with that contract,
+	And not deface your honour with reproach?
+
+SUFFOLK	As doth a ruler with unlawful oaths;
+	Or one that, at a triumph having vow'd
+	To try his strength, forsaketh yet the lists
+	By reason of his adversary's odds:
+	A poor earl's daughter is unequal odds,
+	And therefore may be broke without offence.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Why, what, I pray, is Margaret more than that?
+	Her father is no better than an earl,
+	Although in glorious titles he excel.
+
+SUFFOLK	Yes, lord, her father is a king,
+	The King of Naples and Jerusalem;
+	And of such great authority in France
+	As his alliance will confirm our peace
+	And keep the Frenchmen in allegiance.
+
+GLOUCESTER	And so the Earl of Armagnac may do,
+	Because he is near kinsman unto Charles.
+
+EXETER	Beside, his wealth doth warrant a liberal dower,
+	Where Reignier sooner will receive than give.
+
+SUFFOLK	A dower, my lords! disgrace not so your king,
+	That he should be so abject, base and poor,
+	To choose for wealth and not for perfect love.
+	Henry is able to enrich his queen
+	And not seek a queen to make him rich:
+	So worthless peasants bargain for their wives,
+	As market-men for oxen, sheep, or horse.
+	Marriage is a matter of more worth
+	Than to be dealt in by attorneyship;
+	Not whom we will, but whom his grace affects,
+	Must be companion of his nuptial bed:
+	And therefore, lords, since he affects her most,
+	It most of all these reasons bindeth us,
+	In our opinions she should be preferr'd.
+	For what is wedlock forced but a hell,
+	An age of discord and continual strife?
+	Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss,
+	And is a pattern of celestial peace.
+	Whom should we match with Henry, being a king,
+	But Margaret, that is daughter to a king?
+	Her peerless feature, joined with her birth,
+	Approves her fit for none but for a king:
+	Her valiant courage and undaunted spirit,
+	More than in women commonly is seen,
+	Will answer our hope in issue of a king;
+	For Henry, son unto a conqueror,
+	Is likely to beget more conquerors,
+	If with a lady of so high resolve
+	As is fair Margaret he be link'd in love.
+	Then yield, my lords; and here conclude with me
+	That Margaret shall be queen, and none but she.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Whether it be through force of your report,
+	My noble Lord of Suffolk, or for that
+	My tender youth was never yet attaint
+	With any passion of inflaming love,
+	I cannot tell; but this I am assured,
+	I feel such sharp dissension in my breast,
+	Such fierce alarums both of hope and fear,
+	As I am sick with working of my thoughts.
+	Take, therefore, shipping; post, my lord, to France;
+	Agree to any covenants, and procure
+	That Lady Margaret do vouchsafe to come
+	To cross the seas to England and be crown'd
+	King Henry's faithful and anointed queen:
+	For your expenses and sufficient charge,
+	Among the people gather up a tenth.
+	Be gone, I say; for, till you do return,
+	I rest perplexed with a thousand cares.
+	And you, good uncle, banish all offence:
+	If you do censure me by what you were,
+	Not what you are, I know it will excuse
+	This sudden execution of my will.
+	And so, conduct me where, from company,
+	I may revolve and ruminate my grief.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ay, grief, I fear me, both at first and last.
+
+	[Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EXETER]
+
+SUFFOLK	Thus Suffolk hath prevail'd; and thus he goes,
+	As did the youthful Paris once to Greece,
+	With hope to find the like event in love,
+	But prosper better than the Trojan did.
+	Margaret shall now be queen, and rule the king;
+	But I will rule both her, the king and realm.
+
+	[Exit]
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+RUMOUR	the Presenter.
+
+KING HENRY	the Fourth. (KING HENRY IV:)
+
+
+PRINCE HENRY			|
+OF WALES		(PRINCE HENRY:)	|
+	afterwards KING HENRY V.	|
+			|
+THOMAS, DUKE OF			|  sons of King Henry.
+CLARENCE		(CLARENCE:)	|
+			|
+PRINCE HUMPHREY			|
+OF GLOUCESTER		(GLOUCESTER:)	|
+
+
+EARL OF WARWICK	(WARWICK:)
+
+EARL OF
+WESTMORELAND	(WESTMORELAND:)
+
+EARL OF SURREY:
+
+GOWER:
+
+HARCOURT:
+
+BLUNT:
+
+	Lord Chief-Justice of the King's Bench:
+	(Lord Chief-Justice:)
+
+	A Servant of the Chief-Justice.
+
+EARL OF
+NORTHUMBERLAND	(NORTHUMBERLAND:)
+
+SCROOP,
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	(ARCHBISHOP OF YORK:)
+
+LORD MOWBRAY	(MOWBRAY:)
+
+LORD HASTINGS	(HASTINGS:)
+
+LORD BARDOLPH:
+
+SIR JOHN COLEVILE	(COLEVILE:)
+
+
+TRAVERS	|
+	|  retainers of Northumberland.
+MORTON	|
+
+
+SIR JOHN FALSTAFF	(FALSTAFF:)
+
+	His Page. (Page:)
+
+BARDOLPH:
+
+PISTOL:
+
+POINS:
+
+PETO:
+
+
+SHALLOW	|
+	|  country justices.
+SILENCE	|
+
+
+DAVY	servant to Shallow.
+
+
+MOULDY	|
+	|
+SHADOW	|
+	|
+WART	|  recruits.
+	|
+FEEBLE	|
+	|
+BULLCALF	|
+
+
+FANG	|
+	|  sheriff's officers.
+SNARE	|
+
+
+LADY
+NORTHUMBERLAND:
+
+LADY PERCY:
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	hostess of a tavern in Eastcheap.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET:
+
+	Lords and Attendants; Porter, Drawers,
+	Beadles, Grooms, &c.
+	(First Messenger:)
+	(Porter:)
+	(First Drawer:)
+	(Second Drawer:)
+	(First Beadle:)
+	(First Groom:)
+	(Second Groom:)
+
+	A Dancer, speaker of the epilogue.
+
+
+SCENE	England.
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+	INDUCTION
+
+
+	[Warkworth. Before the castle]
+
+	[Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues]
+
+RUMOUR	Open your ears; for which of you will stop
+	The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks?
+	I, from the orient to the drooping west,
+	Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold
+	The acts commenced on this ball of earth:
+	Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,
+	The which in every language I pronounce,
+	Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
+	I speak of peace, while covert enmity
+	Under the smile of safety wounds the world:
+	And who but Rumour, who but only I,
+	Make fearful musters and prepared defence,
+	Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief,
+	Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war,
+	And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe
+	Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures
+	And of so easy and so plain a stop
+	That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
+	The still-discordant wavering multitude,
+	Can play upon it. But what need I thus
+	My well-known body to anatomize
+	Among my household? Why is Rumour here?
+	I run before King Harry's victory;
+	Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury
+	Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops,
+	Quenching the flame of bold rebellion
+	Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I
+	To speak so true at first? my office is
+	To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell
+	Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword,
+	And that the king before the Douglas' rage
+	Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death.
+	This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns
+	Between that royal field of Shrewsbury
+	And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,
+	Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland,
+	Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on,
+	And not a man of them brings other news
+	Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues
+	They bring smooth comforts false, worse than
+	true wrongs.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter LORD BARDOLPH]
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	Who keeps the gate here, ho?
+
+	[The Porter opens the gate]
+
+		       Where is the earl?
+
+Porter	What shall I say you are?
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	Tell thou the earl
+	That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here.
+
+Porter	His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard;
+	Please it your honour, knock but at the gate,
+	And he himself wilt answer.
+
+	[Enter NORTHUMBERLAND]
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	Here comes the earl.
+
+	[Exit Porter]
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now
+	Should be the father of some stratagem:
+	The times are wild: contention, like a horse
+	Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose
+	And bears down all before him.
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	Noble earl,
+	I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Good, an God will!
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	                  As good as heart can wish:
+	The king is almost wounded to the death;
+	And, in the fortune of my lord your son,
+	Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts
+	Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John
+	And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field;
+	And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John,
+	Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day,
+	So fought, so follow'd and so fairly won,
+	Came not till now to dignify the times,
+	Since Caesar's fortunes!
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	How is this derived?
+	Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury?
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence,
+	A gentleman well bred and of good name,
+	That freely render'd me these news for true.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent
+	On Tuesday last to listen after news.
+
+	[Enter TRAVERS]
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	My lord, I over-rode him on the way;
+	And he is furnish'd with no certainties
+	More than he haply may retail from me.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you?
+
+TRAVERS	My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back
+	With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed,
+	Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard
+	A gentleman, almost forspent with speed,
+	That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse.
+	He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him
+	I did demand what news from Shrewsbury:
+	He told me that rebellion had bad luck
+	And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold.
+	With that, he gave his able horse the head,
+	And bending forward struck his armed heels
+	Against the panting sides of his poor jade
+	Up to the rowel-head, and starting so
+	He seem'd in running to devour the way,
+	Staying no longer question.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Ha! Again:
+	Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold?
+	Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion
+	Had met ill luck?
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	                  My lord, I'll tell you what;
+	If my young lord your son have not the day,
+	Upon mine honour, for a silken point
+	I'll give my barony: never talk of it.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers
+	Give then such instances of loss?
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	Who, he?
+	He was some hilding fellow that had stolen
+	The horse he rode on, and, upon my life,
+	Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news.
+
+	[Enter MORTON]
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf,
+	Foretells the nature of a tragic volume:
+	So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood
+	Hath left a witness'd usurpation.
+	Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury?
+
+MORTON	I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord;
+	Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask
+	To fright our party.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	How doth my son and brother?
+	Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek
+	Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.
+	Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
+	So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone,
+	Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night,
+	And would have told him half his Troy was burnt;
+	But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue,
+	And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it.
+	This thou wouldst say, 'Your son did thus and thus;
+	Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas:'
+	Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds:
+	But in the end, to stop my ear indeed,
+	Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise,
+	Ending with 'Brother, son, and all are dead.'
+
+MORTON	Douglas is living, and your brother, yet;
+	But, for my lord your son--
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Why, he is dead.
+	See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!
+	He that but fears the thing he would not know
+	Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes
+	That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton;
+	Tell thou an earl his divination lies,
+	And I will take it as a sweet disgrace
+	And make thee rich for doing me such wrong.
+
+MORTON	You are too great to be by me gainsaid:
+	Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead.
+	I see a strange confession in thine eye:
+	Thou shakest thy head and hold'st it fear or sin
+	To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so;
+	The tongue offends not that reports his death:
+	And he doth sin that doth belie the dead,
+	Not he which says the dead is not alive.
+	Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
+	Hath but a losing office, and his tongue
+	Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
+	Remember'd tolling a departing friend.
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead.
+
+MORTON	I am sorry I should force you to believe
+	That which I would to God I had not seen;
+	But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state,
+	Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breathed,
+	To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down
+	The never-daunted Percy to the earth,
+	From whence with life he never more sprung up.
+	In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire
+	Even to the dullest peasant in his camp,
+	Being bruited once, took fire and heat away
+	From the best temper'd courage in his troops;
+	For from his metal was his party steel'd;
+	Which once in him abated, all the rest
+	Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead:
+	And as the thing that's heavy in itself,
+	Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed,
+	So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss,
+	Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear
+	That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim
+	Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety,
+	Fly from the field. Then was the noble Worcester
+	Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot,
+	The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword
+	Had three times slain the appearance of the king,
+	'Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame
+	Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight,
+	Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all
+	Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out
+	A speedy power to encounter you, my lord,
+	Under the conduct of young Lancaster
+	And Westmoreland. This is the news at full.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	For this I shall have time enough to mourn.
+	In poison there is physic; and these news,
+	Having been well, that would have made me sick,
+	Being sick, have in some measure made me well:
+	And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints,
+	Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life,
+	Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire
+	Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs,
+	Weaken'd with grief, being now enraged with grief,
+	Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch!
+	A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel
+	Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif!
+	Thou art a guard too wanton for the head
+	Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit.
+	Now bind my brows with iron; and approach
+	The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring
+	To frown upon the enraged Northumberland!
+	Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand
+	Keep the wild flood confined! let order die!
+	And let this world no longer be a stage
+	To feed contention in a lingering act;
+	But let one spirit of the first-born Cain
+	Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set
+	On bloody courses, the rude scene may end,
+	And darkness be the burier of the dead!
+
+TRAVERS	This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord.
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour.
+
+MORTON	The lives of all your loving complices
+	Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er
+	To stormy passion, must perforce decay.
+	You cast the event of war, my noble lord,
+	And summ'd the account of chance, before you said
+	'Let us make head.' It was your presurmise,
+	That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop:
+	You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge,
+	More likely to fall in than to get o'er;
+	You were advised his flesh was capable
+	Of wounds and scars and that his forward spirit
+	Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged:
+	Yet did you say 'Go forth;' and none of this,
+	Though strongly apprehended, could restrain
+	The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen,
+	Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth,
+	More than that being which was like to be?
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	We all that are engaged to this loss
+	Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas
+	That if we wrought our life 'twas ten to one;
+	And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed
+	Choked the respect of likely peril fear'd;
+	And since we are o'erset, venture again.
+	Come, we will all put forth, body and goods.
+
+MORTON	'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord,
+	I hear for certain, and do speak the truth,
+	The gentle Archbishop of York is up
+	With well-appointed powers: he is a man
+	Who with a double surety binds his followers.
+	My lord your son had only but the corpse,
+	But shadows and the shows of men, to fight;
+	For that same word, rebellion, did divide
+	The action of their bodies from their souls;
+	And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd,
+	As men drink potions, that their weapons only
+	Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and souls,
+	This word, rebellion, it had froze them up,
+	As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop
+	Turns insurrection to religion:
+	Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts,
+	He's followed both with body and with mind;
+	And doth enlarge his rising with the blood
+	Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones;
+	Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause;
+	Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land,
+	Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke;
+	And more and less do flock to follow him.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	I knew of this before; but, to speak truth,
+	This present grief had wiped it from my mind.
+	Go in with me; and counsel every man
+	The aptest way for safety and revenge:
+	Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed:
+	Never so few, and never yet more need.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	London. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword
+	and buckler]
+
+FALSTAFF	Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water?
+
+Page	He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy
+	water; but, for the party that owed it, he might
+	have more diseases than he knew for.
+
+FALSTAFF	Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the
+	brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not
+	able to invent anything that tends to laughter, more
+	than I invent or is invented on me: I am not only
+	witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other
+	men. I do here walk before thee like a sow that
+	hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the
+	prince put thee into my service for any other reason
+	than to set me off, why then I have no judgment.
+	Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn
+	in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never
+	manned with an agate till now: but I will inset you
+	neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and
+	send you back again to your master, for a jewel,--
+	the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is
+	not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in
+	the palm of my hand than he shall get one on his
+	cheek; and yet he will not stick to say his face is
+	a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, 'tis
+	not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still at a
+	face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence
+	out of it; and yet he'll be crowing as if he had
+	writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He
+	may keep his own grace, but he's almost out of mine,
+	I can assure him. What said Master Dombledon about
+	the satin for my short cloak and my slops?
+
+Page	He said, sir, you should procure him better
+	assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his
+	band and yours; he liked not the security.
+
+FALSTAFF	Let him be damned, like the glutton! pray God his
+	tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel! a rascally
+	yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand,
+	and then stand upon security! The whoreson
+	smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and
+	bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is
+	through with them in honest taking up, then they
+	must stand upon security. I had as lief they would
+	put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with
+	security. I looked a' should have sent me two and
+	twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he
+	sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security;
+	for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness
+	of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he
+	see, though he have his own lanthorn to light him.
+	Where's Bardolph?
+
+Page	He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse.
+
+FALSTAFF	I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in
+	Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the
+	stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived.
+
+	[Enter the Lord Chief-Justice and Servant]
+
+Page	Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the
+	Prince for striking him about Bardolph.
+
+FALSTAFF	Wait, close; I will not see him.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	What's he that goes there?
+
+Servant	Falstaff, an't please your lordship.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	He that was in question for the robbery?
+
+Servant	He, my lord: but he hath since done good service at
+	Shrewsbury; and, as I hear, is now going with some
+	charge to the Lord John of Lancaster.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	What, to York? Call him back again.
+
+Servant	Sir John Falstaff!
+
+FALSTAFF	Boy, tell him I am deaf.
+
+Page	You must speak louder; my master is deaf.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good.
+	Go, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him.
+
+Servant	Sir John!
+
+FALSTAFF	What! a young knave, and begging! Is there not
+	wars? is there not employment? doth not the king
+	lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers?
+	Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it
+	is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side,
+	were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell
+	how to make it.
+
+Servant	You mistake me, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? setting
+	my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied
+	in my throat, if I had said so.
+
+Servant	I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and our
+	soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you,
+	you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other
+	than an honest man.
+
+FALSTAFF	I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that
+	which grows to me! if thou gettest any leave of me,
+	hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert better be
+	hanged. You hunt counter: hence! avaunt!
+
+Servant	Sir, my lord would speak with you.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Sir John Falstaff, a word with you.
+
+FALSTAFF	My good lord! God give your lordship good time of
+	day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad: I heard
+	say your lordship was sick: I hope your lordship
+	goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not
+	clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in
+	you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I must
+	humbly beseech your lordship to have a reverent care
+	of your health.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to
+	Shrewsbury.
+
+FALSTAFF	An't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is
+	returned with some discomfort from Wales.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	I talk not of his majesty: you would not come when
+	I sent for you.
+
+FALSTAFF	And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen into
+	this same whoreson apoplexy.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Well, God mend him! I pray you, let me speak with
+	you.
+
+FALSTAFF	This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy,
+	an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the
+	blood, a whoreson tingling.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	What tell you me of it? be it as it is.
+
+FALSTAFF	It hath its original from much grief, from study and
+	perturbation of the brain: I have read the cause of
+	his effects in Galen: it is a kind of deafness.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	I think you are fallen into the disease; for you
+	hear not what I say to you.
+
+FALSTAFF	Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an't please
+	you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady
+	of not marking, that I am troubled withal.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	To punish you by the heels would amend the
+	attention of your ears; and I care not if I do
+	become your physician.
+
+FALSTAFF	I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient:
+	your lordship may minister the potion of
+	imprisonment to me in respect of poverty; but how
+	should I be your patient to follow your
+	prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a
+	scruple, or indeed a scruple itself.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	I sent for you, when there were matters against you
+	for your life, to come speak with me.
+
+FALSTAFF	As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the
+	laws of this land-service, I did not come.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy.
+
+FALSTAFF	He that buckles him in my belt cannot live in less.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Your means are very slender, and your waste is great.
+
+FALSTAFF	I would it were otherwise; I would my means were
+	greater, and my waist slenderer.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	You have misled the youthful prince.
+
+FALSTAFF	The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow
+	with the great belly, and he my dog.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound: your
+	day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded
+	over your night's exploit on Gad's-hill: you may
+	thank the unquiet time for your quiet o'er-posting
+	that action.
+
+FALSTAFF	My lord?
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a
+	sleeping wolf.
+
+FALSTAFF	To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	What! you are as a candle, the better part burnt
+	out.
+
+FALSTAFF	A wassail candle, my lord, all tallow: if I did say
+	of wax, my growth would approve the truth.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	There is not a white hair on your face but should
+	have his effect of gravity.
+
+FALSTAFF	His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	You follow the young prince up and down, like his
+	ill angel.
+
+FALSTAFF	Not so, my lord; your ill angel is light; but I hope
+	he that looks upon me will take me without weighing:
+	and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go: I
+	cannot tell. Virtue is of so little regard in these
+	costermonger times that true valour is turned
+	bear-herd: pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath
+	his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the
+	other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of
+	this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry.
+	You that are old consider not the capacities of us
+	that are young; you do measure the heat of our
+	livers with the bitterness of your galls: and we
+	that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess,
+	are wags too.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth,
+	that are written down old with all the characters of
+	age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a
+	yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an
+	increasing belly? is not your voice broken? your
+	wind short? your chin double? your wit single? and
+	every part about you blasted with antiquity? and
+	will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John!
+
+FALSTAFF	My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the
+	afternoon, with a white head and something a round
+	belly. For my voice, I have lost it with halloing
+	and singing of anthems. To approve my youth
+	further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in
+	judgment and understanding; and he that will caper
+	with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the
+	money, and have at him! For the box of the ear that
+	the prince gave you, he gave it like a rude prince,
+	and you took it like a sensible lord. I have
+	chequed him for it, and the young lion repents;
+	marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silk
+	and old sack.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Well, God send the prince a better companion!
+
+FALSTAFF	God send the companion a better prince! I cannot
+	rid my hands of him.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Well, the king hath severed you and Prince Harry: I
+	hear you are going with Lord John of Lancaster
+	against the Archbishop and the Earl of
+	Northumberland.
+
+FALSTAFF	Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look
+	you pray, all you that kiss my lady Peace at home,
+	that our armies join not in a hot day; for, by the
+	Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean
+	not to sweat extraordinarily: if it be a hot day,
+	and I brandish any thing but a bottle, I would I
+	might never spit white again. There is not a
+	dangerous action can peep out his head but I am
+	thrust upon it: well, I cannot last ever: but it
+	was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if
+	they have a good thing, to make it too common. If
+	ye will needs say I am an old man, you should give
+	me rest. I would to God my name were not so
+	terrible to the enemy as it is: I were better to be
+	eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to
+	nothing with perpetual motion.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your
+	expedition!
+
+FALSTAFF	Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to
+	furnish me forth?
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatient to
+	bear crosses. Fare you well: commend me to my
+	cousin Westmoreland.
+
+	[Exeunt Chief-Justice and Servant]
+
+FALSTAFF	If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A man
+	can no more separate age and covetousness than a'
+	can part young limbs and lechery: but the gout
+	galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and
+	so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy!
+
+Page	Sir?
+
+FALSTAFF	What money is in my purse?
+
+Page	Seven groats and two pence.
+
+FALSTAFF	I can get no remedy against this consumption of the
+	purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out,
+	but the disease is incurable. Go bear this letter
+	to my Lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this
+	to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this to old
+	Mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry
+	since I perceived the first white hair on my chin.
+	About it: you know where to find me.
+
+	[Exit Page]
+
+	A pox of this gout! or, a gout of this pox! for
+	the one or the other plays the rogue with my great
+	toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars
+	for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more
+	reasonable. A good wit will make use of any thing:
+	I will turn diseases to commodity.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	York. The Archbishop's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the Lords HASTINGS,
+	MOWBRAY, and BARDOLPH]
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Thus have you heard our cause and known our means;
+	And, my most noble friends, I pray you all,
+	Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes:
+	And first, lord marshal, what say you to it?
+
+MOWBRAY	I well allow the occasion of our arms;
+	But gladly would be better satisfied
+	How in our means we should advance ourselves
+	To look with forehead bold and big enough
+	Upon the power and puissance of the king.
+
+HASTINGS	Our present musters grow upon the file
+	To five and twenty thousand men of choice;
+	And our supplies live largely in the hope
+	Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns
+	With an incensed fire of injuries.
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus;
+	Whether our present five and twenty thousand
+	May hold up head without Northumberland?
+
+HASTINGS	With him, we may.
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	                  Yea, marry, there's the point:
+	But if without him we be thought too feeble,
+	My judgment is, we should not step too far
+	Till we had his assistance by the hand;
+	For in a theme so bloody-faced as this
+	Conjecture, expectation, and surmise
+	Of aids incertain should not be admitted.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed
+	It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury.
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	It was, my lord; who lined himself with hope,
+	Eating the air on promise of supply,
+	Flattering himself in project of a power
+	Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts:
+	And so, with great imagination
+	Proper to madmen, led his powers to death
+	And winking leap'd into destruction.
+
+HASTINGS	But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt
+	To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	Yes, if this present quality of war,
+	Indeed the instant action: a cause on foot
+	Lives so in hope as in an early spring
+	We see the appearing buds; which to prove fruit,
+	Hope gives not so much warrant as despair
+	That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,
+	We first survey the plot, then draw the model;
+	And when we see the figure of the house,
+	Then must we rate the cost of the erection;
+	Which if we find outweighs ability,
+	What do we then but draw anew the model
+	In fewer offices, or at last desist
+	To build at all? Much more, in this great work,
+	Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down
+	And set another up, should we survey
+	The plot of situation and the model,
+	Consent upon a sure foundation,
+	Question surveyors, know our own estate,
+	How able such a work to undergo,
+	To weigh against his opposite; or else
+	We fortify in paper and in figures,
+	Using the names of men instead of men:
+	Like one that draws the model of a house
+	Beyond his power to build it; who, half through,
+	Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost
+	A naked subject to the weeping clouds
+	And waste for churlish winter's tyranny.
+
+HASTINGS	Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth,
+	Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd
+	The utmost man of expectation,
+	I think we are a body strong enough,
+	Even as we are, to equal with the king.
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	What, is the king but five and twenty thousand?
+
+HASTINGS	To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph.
+	For his divisions, as the times do brawl,
+	Are in three heads: one power against the French,
+	And one against Glendower; perforce a third
+	Must take up us: so is the unfirm king
+	In three divided; and his coffers sound
+	With hollow poverty and emptiness.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	That he should draw his several strengths together
+	And come against us in full puissance,
+	Need not be dreaded.
+
+HASTINGS	If he should do so,
+	He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh
+	Baying him at the heels: never fear that.
+
+LORD BARDOLPH	Who is it like should lead his forces hither?
+
+HASTINGS	The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland;
+	Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth:
+	But who is substituted 'gainst the French,
+	I have no certain notice.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Let us on,
+	And publish the occasion of our arms.
+	The commonwealth is sick of their own choice;
+	Their over-greedy love hath surfeited:
+	An habitation giddy and unsure
+	Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
+	O thou fond many, with what loud applause
+	Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke,
+	Before he was what thou wouldst have him be!
+	And being now trimm'd in thine own desires,
+	Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him,
+	That thou provokest thyself to cast him up.
+	So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge
+	Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;
+	And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,
+	And howl'st to find it. What trust is in
+	these times?
+	They that, when Richard lived, would have him die,
+	Are now become enamour'd on his grave:
+	Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head
+	When through proud London he came sighing on
+	After the admired heels of Bolingbroke,
+	Criest now 'O earth, yield us that king again,
+	And take thou this!' O thoughts of men accursed!
+	Past and to come seems best; things present worst.
+
+MOWBRAY	Shall we go draw our numbers and set on?
+
+HASTINGS	We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY, FANG and his Boy with her,
+	and SNARE following.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Master Fang, have you entered the action?
+
+FANG	It is entered.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Where's your yeoman? Is't a lusty yeoman? will a'
+	stand to 't?
+
+FANG	Sirrah, where's Snare?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	O Lord, ay! good Master Snare.
+
+SNARE	Here, here.
+
+FANG	Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Yea, good Master Snare; I have entered him and all.
+
+SNARE	It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed me in
+	mine own house, and that most beastly: in good
+	faith, he cares not what mischief he does. If his
+	weapon be out: he will foin like any devil; he will
+	spare neither man, woman, nor child.
+
+FANG	If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow.
+
+FANG	An I but fist him once; an a' come but within my vice,--
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an
+	infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang,
+	hold him sure: good Master Snare, let him not
+	'scape. A' comes continuantly to Pie-corner--saving
+	your manhoods--to buy a saddle; and he is indited to
+	dinner to the Lubber's-head in Lumbert street, to
+	Master Smooth's the silkman: I pray ye, since my
+	exion is entered and my case so openly known to the
+	world, let him be brought in to his answer. A
+	hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to
+	bear: and I have borne, and borne, and borne, and
+	have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed
+	off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame
+	to be thought on. There is no honesty in such
+	dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass and a
+	beast, to bear every knave's wrong. Yonder he
+	comes; and that errant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph,
+	with him. Do your offices, do your offices: Master
+	Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me, do me your offices.
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF, Page, and BARDOLPH]
+
+FALSTAFF	How now! whose mare's dead? what's the matter?
+
+FANG	Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly.
+
+FALSTAFF	Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph: cut me off the
+	villain's head: throw the quean in the channel.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in the
+	channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly
+	rogue! Murder, murder! Ah, thou honeysuckle
+	villain! wilt thou kill God's officers and the
+	king's? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a
+	honey-seed, a man-queller, and a woman-queller.
+
+FALSTAFF	Keep them off, Bardolph.
+
+FANG	A rescue! a rescue!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wo't, wo't
+	thou? Thou wo't, wo't ta? do, do, thou rogue! do,
+	thou hemp-seed!
+
+FALSTAFF	Away, you scullion! you rampallion! You
+	fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe.
+
+	[Enter the Lord Chief-Justice, and his men]
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	What is the matter? keep the peace here, ho!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to me.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	How now, Sir John! what are you brawling here?
+	Doth this become your place, your time and business?
+	You should have been well on your way to York.
+	Stand from him, fellow: wherefore hang'st upon him?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	O most worshipful lord, an't please your grace, I am
+	a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	For what sum?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all,
+	all I have. He hath eaten me out of house and home;
+	he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of
+	his: but I will have some of it out again, or I
+	will ride thee o' nights like the mare.
+
+FALSTAFF	I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have
+	any vantage of ground to get up.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	How comes this, Sir John? Fie! what man of good
+	temper would endure this tempest of exclamation?
+	Are you not ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so
+	rough a course to come by her own?
+
+FALSTAFF	What is the gross sum that I owe thee?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and the
+	money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a
+	parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber,
+	at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon
+	Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince broke
+	thy head for liking his father to a singing-man of
+	Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, as I was
+	washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady
+	thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife
+	Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then and call me
+	gossip Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of
+	vinegar; telling us she had a good dish of prawns;
+	whereby thou didst desire to eat some; whereby I
+	told thee they were ill for a green wound? And
+	didst thou not, when she was gone down stairs,
+	desire me to be no more so familiarity with such
+	poor people; saying that ere long they should call
+	me madam? And didst thou not kiss me and bid me
+	fetch thee thirty shillings? I put thee now to thy
+	book-oath: deny it, if thou canst.
+
+FALSTAFF	My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she says up
+	and down the town that the eldest son is like you:
+	she hath been in good case, and the truth is,
+	poverty hath distracted her. But for these foolish
+	officers, I beseech you I may have redress against them.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with your
+	manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It
+	is not a confident brow, nor the throng of words
+	that come with such more than impudent sauciness
+	from you, can thrust me from a level consideration:
+	you have, as it appears to me, practised upon the
+	easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her
+	serve your uses both in purse and in person.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Yea, in truth, my lord.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her, and
+	unpay the villany you have done her: the one you
+	may do with sterling money, and the other with
+	current repentance.
+
+FALSTAFF	My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without
+	reply. You call honourable boldness impudent
+	sauciness: if a man will make courtesy and say
+	nothing, he is virtuous: no, my lord, my humble
+	duty remembered, I will not be your suitor. I say
+	to you, I do desire deliverance from these officers,
+	being upon hasty employment in the king's affairs.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	You speak as having power to do wrong: but answer
+	in the effect of your reputation, and satisfy this
+	poor woman.
+
+FALSTAFF	Come hither, hostess.
+
+	[Enter GOWER]
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Now, Master Gower, what news?
+
+GOWER	The king, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales
+	Are near at hand: the rest the paper tells.
+
+FALSTAFF	As I am a gentleman.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Faith, you said so before.
+
+FALSTAFF	As I am a gentleman. Come, no more words of it.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain
+	to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my
+	dining-chambers.
+
+FALSTAFF	Glasses, glasses is the only drinking: and for thy
+	walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of
+	the Prodigal, or the German hunting in water-work,
+	is worth a thousand of these bed-hangings and these
+	fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound, if thou
+	canst. Come, an 'twere not for thy humours, there's
+	not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face,
+	and draw the action. Come, thou must not be in
+	this humour with me; dost not know me? come, come, I
+	know thou wast set on to this.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles: i'
+	faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me,
+	la!
+
+FALSTAFF	Let it alone; I'll make other shift: you'll be a
+	fool still.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I
+	hope you'll come to supper. You'll pay me all together?
+
+FALSTAFF	Will I live?
+
+	[To BARDOLPH]
+
+	Go, with her, with her; hook on, hook on.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper?
+
+FALSTAFF	No more words; let's have her.
+
+	[Exeunt MISTRESS QUICKLY, BARDOLPH, Officers and Boy]
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	I have heard better news.
+
+FALSTAFF	What's the news, my lord?
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Where lay the king last night?
+
+GOWER	At Basingstoke, my lord.
+
+FALSTAFF	I hope, my lord, all's well: what is the news, my lord?
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Come all his forces back?
+
+GOWER	No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse,
+	Are marched up to my lord of Lancaster,
+	Against Northumberland and the Archbishop.
+
+FALSTAFF	Comes the king back from Wales, my noble lord?
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	You shall have letters of me presently:
+	Come, go along with me, good Master Gower.
+
+FALSTAFF	My lord!
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	What's the matter?
+
+FALSTAFF	Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner?
+
+GOWER	I must wait upon my good lord here; I thank you,
+	good Sir John.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to
+	take soldiers up in counties as you go.
+
+FALSTAFF	Will you sup with me, Master Gower?
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir John?
+
+FALSTAFF	Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool
+	that taught them me. This is the right fencing
+	grace, my lord; tap for tap, and so part fair.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Now the Lord lighten thee! thou art a great fool.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	London. Another street.
+
+
+	[Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Before God, I am exceeding weary.
+
+POINS	Is't come to that? I had thought weariness durst not
+	have attached one of so high blood.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Faith, it does me; though it discolours the
+	complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth
+	it not show vilely in me to desire small beer?
+
+POINS	Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as
+	to remember so weak a composition.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Belike then my appetite was not princely got; for,
+	by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature,
+	small beer. But, indeed, these humble
+	considerations make me out of love with my
+	greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember
+	thy name! or to know thy face to-morrow! or to
+	take note how many pair of silk stockings thou
+	hast, viz. these, and those that were thy
+	peach-coloured ones! or to bear the inventory of thy
+	shirts, as, one for superfluity, and another for
+	use! But that the tennis-court-keeper knows better
+	than I; for it is a low ebb of linen with thee when
+	thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done
+	a great while, because the rest of thy low
+	countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland:
+	and God knows, whether those that bawl out the ruins
+	of thy linen shall inherit his kingdom: but the
+	midwives say the children are not in the fault;
+	whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are
+	mightily strengthened.
+
+POINS	How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard,
+	you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good
+	young princes would do so, their fathers being so
+	sick as yours at this time is?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins?
+
+POINS	Yes, faith; and let it be an excellent good thing.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine.
+
+POINS	Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you
+	will tell.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Marry, I tell thee, it is not meet that I should be
+	sad, now my father is sick: albeit I could tell
+	thee, as to one it pleases me, for fault of a
+	better, to call my friend, I could be sad, and sad
+	indeed too.
+
+POINS	Very hardly upon such a subject.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	By this hand thou thinkest me as far in the devil's
+	book as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and
+	persistency: let the end try the man. But I tell
+	thee, my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so
+	sick: and keeping such vile company as thou art
+	hath in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow.
+
+POINS	The reason?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What wouldst thou think of me, if I should weep?
+
+POINS	I would think thee a most princely hypocrite.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	It would be every man's thought; and thou art a
+	blessed fellow to think as every man thinks: never
+	a man's thought in the world keeps the road-way
+	better than thine: every man would think me an
+	hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most
+	worshipful thought to think so?
+
+POINS	Why, because you have been so lewd and so much
+	engraffed to Falstaff.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	And to thee.
+
+POINS	By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it
+	with my own ears: the worst that they can say of
+	me is that I am a second brother and that I am a
+	proper fellow of my hands; and those two things, I
+	confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph.
+
+	[Enter BARDOLPH and Page]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	And the boy that I gave Falstaff: a' had him from
+	me Christian; and look, if the fat villain have not
+	transformed him ape.
+
+BARDOLPH	God save your grace!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	And yours, most noble Bardolph!
+
+BARDOLPH	Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must you
+	be blushing? wherefore blush you now? What a
+	maidenly man-at-arms are you become! Is't such a
+	matter to get a pottle-pot's maidenhead?
+
+Page	A' calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red
+	lattice, and I could discern no part of his face
+	from the window: at last I spied his eyes, and
+	methought he had made two holes in the ale-wife's
+	new petticoat and so peeped through.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Has not the boy profited?
+
+BARDOLPH	Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away!
+
+Page	Away, you rascally Althaea's dream, away!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy?
+
+Page	Marry, my lord, Althaea dreamed she was delivered
+	of a fire-brand; and therefore I call him her dream.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	A crown's worth of good interpretation: there 'tis,
+	boy.
+
+POINS	O, that this good blossom could be kept from
+	cankers! Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee.
+
+BARDOLPH	An you do not make him hanged among you, the
+	gallows shall have wrong.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	And how doth thy master, Bardolph?
+
+BARDOLPH	Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's coming to
+	town: there's a letter for you.
+
+POINS	Delivered with good respect. And how doth the
+	martlemas, your master?
+
+BARDOLPH	In bodily health, sir.
+
+POINS	Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but
+	that moves not him: though that be sick, it dies
+	not.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my
+	dog; and he holds his place; for look you how be writes.
+
+POINS	[Reads]  'John Falstaff, knight,'--every man must
+	know that, as oft as he has occasion to name
+	himself: even like those that are kin to the king;
+	for they never prick their finger but they say,
+	'There's some of the king's blood spilt.' 'How
+	comes that?' says he, that takes upon him not to
+	conceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower's
+	cap, 'I am the king's poor cousin, sir.'
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it
+	from Japhet. But to the letter.
+
+POINS	[Reads]  'Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of
+	the king, nearest his father, Harry Prince of
+	Wales, greeting.' Why, this is a certificate.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Peace!
+
+POINS	[Reads]  'I will imitate the honourable Romans in
+	brevity:' he sure means brevity in breath,
+	short-winded. 'I commend me to thee, I commend
+	thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with
+	Poins; for he misuses thy favours so much, that he
+	swears thou art to marry his sister Nell. Repent
+	at idle times as thou mayest; and so, farewell.
+	Thine, by yea and no, which is as much as to
+	say, as thou usest him, JACK FALSTAFF with my
+	familiars, JOHN with my brothers and sisters,
+	and SIR JOHN with all Europe.'
+	My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat it.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do
+	you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister?
+
+POINS	God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never said so.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the
+	spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us.
+	Is your master here in London?
+
+BARDOLPH	Yea, my lord.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank?
+
+BARDOLPH	At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What company?
+
+Page	Ephesians, my lord, of the old church.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Sup any women with him?
+
+Page	None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and
+	Mistress Doll Tearsheet.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	What pagan may that be?
+
+Page	A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master's.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town
+	bull. Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper?
+
+POINS	I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your
+	master that I am yet come to town: there's for
+	your silence.
+
+BARDOLPH	I have no tongue, sir.
+
+Page	And for mine, sir, I will govern it.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Fare you well; go.
+
+	[Exeunt BARDOLPH and Page]
+
+	This Doll Tearsheet should be some road.
+
+POINS	I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint
+	Alban's and London.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night
+	in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen?
+
+POINS	Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait
+	upon him at his table as drawers.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	From a God to a bull? a heavy decension! it was
+	Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice? a low
+	transformation! that shall be mine; for in every
+	thing the purpose must weigh with the folly.
+	Follow me, Ned.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Warkworth. Before the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, LADY NORTHUMBERLAND, and LADY PERCY]
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter,
+	Give even way unto my rough affairs:
+	Put not you on the visage of the times
+	And be like them to Percy troublesome.
+
+LADY
+NORTHUMBERLAND	I have given over, I will speak no more:
+	Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn;
+	And, but my going, nothing can redeem it.
+
+LADY PERCY	O yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars!
+	The time was, father, that you broke your word,
+	When you were more endeared to it than now;
+	When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry,
+	Threw many a northward look to see his father
+	Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.
+	Who then persuaded you to stay at home?
+	There were two honours lost, yours and your son's.
+	For yours, the God of heaven brighten it!
+	For his, it stuck upon him as the sun
+	In the grey vault of heaven, and by his light
+	Did all the chivalry of England move
+	To do brave acts: he was indeed the glass
+	Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves:
+	He had no legs that practised not his gait;
+	And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
+	Became the accents of the valiant;
+	For those that could speak low and tardily
+	Would turn their own perfection to abuse,
+	To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait,
+	In diet, in affections of delight,
+	In military rules, humours of blood,
+	He was the mark and glass, copy and book,
+	That fashion'd others. And him, O wondrous him!
+	O miracle of men! him did you leave,
+	Second to none, unseconded by you,
+	To look upon the hideous god of war
+	In disadvantage; to abide a field
+	Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name
+	Did seem defensible: so you left him.
+	Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong
+	To hold your honour more precise and nice
+	With others than with him! let them alone:
+	The marshal and the archbishop are strong:
+	Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
+	To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
+	Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Beshrew your heart,
+	Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me
+	With new lamenting ancient oversights.
+	But I must go and meet with danger there,
+	Or it will seek me in another place
+	And find me worse provided.
+
+LADY
+NORTHUMBERLAND	O, fly to Scotland,
+	Till that the nobles and the armed commons
+	Have of their puissance made a little taste.
+
+LADY PERCY	If they get ground and vantage of the king,
+	Then join you with them, like a rib of steel,
+	To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves,
+	First let them try themselves. So did your son;
+	He was so suffer'd: so came I a widow;
+	And never shall have length of life enough
+	To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes,
+	That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven,
+	For recordation to my noble husband.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind
+	As with the tide swell'd up unto his height,
+	That makes a still-stand, running neither way:
+	Fain would I go to meet the archbishop,
+	But many thousand reasons hold me back.
+	I will resolve for Scotland: there am I,
+	Till time and vantage crave my company.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	London. The Boar's-head Tavern in Eastcheap.
+
+
+	[Enter two Drawers]
+
+First Drawer	What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-johns?
+	thou knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john.
+
+Second Drawer	Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once set a dish
+	of apple-johns before him, and told him there were
+	five more Sir Johns, and, putting off his hat, said
+	'I will now take my leave of these six dry, round,
+	old, withered knights.' It angered him to the
+	heart: but he hath forgot that.
+
+First Drawer	Why, then, cover, and set them down: and see if
+	thou canst find out Sneak's noise; Mistress
+	Tearsheet would fain hear some music. Dispatch: the
+	room where they supped is too hot; they'll come in straight.
+
+Second Drawer	Sirrah, here will be the prince and Master Poins
+	anon; and they will put on two of our jerkins and
+	aprons; and Sir John must not know of it: Bardolph
+	hath brought word.
+
+First Drawer	By the mass, here will be old Utis: it will be an
+	excellent stratagem.
+
+Second Drawer	I'll see if I can find out Sneak.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an
+	excellent good temperality: your pulsidge beats as
+	extraordinarily as heart would desire; and your
+	colour, I warrant you, is as red as any rose, in good
+	truth, la! But, i' faith, you have drunk too much
+	canaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine,
+	and it perfumes the blood ere one can say 'What's
+	this?' How do you now?
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Better than I was: hem!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Why, that's well said; a good heart's worth gold.
+	Lo, here comes Sir John.
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF]
+
+FALSTAFF	[Singing]  'When Arthur first in court,'
+	--Empty the jordan.
+
+	[Exit First Drawer]
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	--'And was a worthy king.' How now, Mistress Doll!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Sick of a calm; yea, good faith.
+
+FALSTAFF	So is all her sect; an they be once in a calm, they are sick.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	You muddy rascal, is that all the comfort you give me?
+
+FALSTAFF	You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	I make them! gluttony and diseases make them; I
+	make them not.
+
+FALSTAFF	If the cook help to make the gluttony, you help to
+	make the diseases, Doll: we catch of you, Doll, we
+	catch of you; grant that, my poor virtue grant that.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels.
+
+FALSTAFF	'Your broaches, pearls, and ouches:' for to serve
+	bravely is to come halting off, you know: to come
+	off the breach with his pike bent bravely, and to
+	surgery bravely; to venture upon the charged
+	chambers bravely,--
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two never
+	meet but you fall to some discord: you are both,
+	i' good truth, as rheumatic as two dry toasts; you
+	cannot one bear with another's confirmities. What
+	the good-year! one must bear, and that must be
+	you: you are the weaker vessel, as they say, the
+	emptier vessel.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full
+	hogshead? there's a whole merchant's venture of
+	Bourdeaux stuff in him; you have not seen a hulk
+	better stuffed in the hold. Come, I'll be friends
+	with thee, Jack: thou art going to the wars; and
+	whether I shall ever see thee again or no, there is
+	nobody cares.
+
+	[Re-enter First Drawer]
+
+First Drawer	Sir, Ancient Pistol's below, and would speak with
+	you.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Hang him, swaggering rascal! let him not come
+	hither: it is the foul-mouthed'st rogue in England.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	If he swagger, let him not come here: no, by my
+	faith; I must live among my neighbours: I'll no
+	swaggerers: I am in good name and fame with the
+	very best: shut the door; there comes no swaggerers
+	here: I have not lived all this while, to have
+	swaggering now: shut the door, I pray you.
+
+FALSTAFF	Dost thou hear, hostess?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Pray ye, pacify yourself, Sir John: there comes no
+	swaggerers here.
+
+FALSTAFF	Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me: your ancient
+	swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was before Master
+	Tisick, the debuty, t'other day; and, as he said to
+	me, 'twas no longer ago than Wednesday last, 'I'
+	good faith, neighbour Quickly,' says he; Master
+	Dumbe, our minister, was by then; 'neighbour
+	Quickly,' says he, 'receive those that are civil;
+	for,' said he, 'you are in an ill name:' now a'
+	said so, I can tell whereupon; 'for,' says he, 'you
+	are an honest woman, and well thought on; therefore
+	take heed what guests you receive: receive,' says
+	he, 'no swaggering companions.' There comes none
+	here: you would bless you to hear what he said:
+	no, I'll no swaggerers.
+
+FALSTAFF	He's no swaggerer, hostess; a tame cheater, i'
+	faith; you may stroke him as gently as a puppy
+	greyhound: he'll not swagger with a Barbary hen, if
+	her feathers turn back in any show of resistance.
+	Call him up, drawer.
+
+	[Exit First Drawer]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man my
+	house, nor no cheater: but I do not love
+	swaggering, by my troth; I am the worse, when one
+	says swagger: feel, masters, how I shake; look you,
+	I warrant you.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	So you do, hostess.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Do I? yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere an aspen
+	leaf: I cannot abide swaggerers.
+
+	[Enter PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and Page]
+
+PISTOL	God save you, Sir John!
+
+FALSTAFF	Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge
+	you with a cup of sack: do you discharge upon mine hostess.
+
+PISTOL	I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two bullets.
+
+FALSTAFF	She is Pistol-proof, sir; you shall hardly offend
+	her.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Come, I'll drink no proofs nor no bullets: I'll
+	drink no more than will do me good, for no man's
+	pleasure, I.
+
+PISTOL	Then to you, Mistress Dorothy; I will charge you.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Charge me! I scorn you, scurvy companion. What!
+	you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen
+	mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away! I am meat for
+	your master.
+
+PISTOL	I know you, Mistress Dorothy.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away!
+	by this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy
+	chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away,
+	you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale
+	juggler, you! Since when, I pray you, sir? God's
+	light, with two points on your shoulder? much!
+
+PISTOL	God let me not live, but I will murder your ruff for this.
+
+FALSTAFF	No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here:
+	discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	No, Good Captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Captain! thou abominable damned cheater, art thou
+	not ashamed to be called captain? An captains were
+	of my mind, they would truncheon you out, for
+	taking their names upon you before you have earned
+	them. You a captain! you slave, for what? for
+	tearing a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-house? He a
+	captain! hang him, rogue! he lives upon mouldy
+	stewed prunes and dried cakes. A captain! God's
+	light, these villains will make the word as odious
+	as the word 'occupy;' which was an excellent good
+	word before it was ill sorted: therefore captains
+	had need look to 't.
+
+BARDOLPH	Pray thee, go down, good ancient.
+
+FALSTAFF	Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.
+
+PISTOL	Not I	I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could
+	tear her: I'll be revenged of her.
+
+Page	Pray thee, go down.
+
+PISTOL	I'll see her damned first; to Pluto's damned lake,
+	by this hand, to the infernal deep, with Erebus and
+	tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, say I.
+	Down, down, dogs! down, faitors! Have we not
+	Hiren here?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; 'tis very late, i'
+	faith: I beseek you now, aggravate your choler.
+
+PISTOL	These be good humours, indeed! Shall pack-horses
+	And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,
+	Which cannot go but thirty mile a-day,
+	Compare with Caesars, and with Cannibals,
+	And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with
+	King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.
+	Shall we fall foul for toys?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words.
+
+BARDOLPH	Be gone, good ancient: this will grow to abrawl anon.
+
+PISTOL	Die men like dogs! give crowns like pins! Have we
+	not Heren here?
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	O' my word, captain, there's none such here. What
+	the good-year! do you think I would deny her? For
+	God's sake, be quiet.
+
+PISTOL	Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis.
+	Come, give's some sack.
+	'Si fortune me tormente, sperato me contento.'
+	Fear we broadsides? no, let the fiend give fire:
+	Give me some sack: and, sweetheart, lie thou there.
+
+	[Laying down his sword]
+
+	Come we to full points here; and are etceteras nothing?
+
+FALSTAFF	Pistol, I would be quiet.
+
+PISTOL	Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf: what! we have seen
+	the seven stars.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	For God's sake, thrust him down stairs: I cannot
+	endure such a fustian rascal.
+
+PISTOL	Thrust him down stairs! know we not Galloway nags?
+
+FALSTAFF	Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat
+	shilling: nay, an a' do nothing but speak nothing,
+	a' shall be nothing here.
+
+BARDOLPH	Come, get you down stairs.
+
+PISTOL	What! shall we have incision? shall we imbrue?
+
+	[Snatching up his sword]
+
+	Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days!
+	Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds
+	Untwine the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Here's goodly stuff toward!
+
+FALSTAFF	Give me my rapier, boy.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.
+
+FALSTAFF	Get you down stairs.
+
+	[Drawing, and driving PISTOL out]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping
+	house, afore I'll be in these tirrits and frights.
+	So; murder, I warrant now. Alas, alas! put up
+	your naked weapons, put up your naked weapons.
+
+	[Exeunt PISTOL and BARDOLPH]
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal's gone.
+	Ah, you whoreson little valiant villain, you!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	He you not hurt i' the groin? methought a' made a
+	shrewd thrust at your belly.
+
+	[Re-enter BARDOLPH]
+
+FALSTAFF	Have you turned him out o' doors?
+
+BARDOLPH	Yea, sir. The rascal's drunk: you have hurt him,
+	sir, i' the shoulder.
+
+FALSTAFF	A rascal! to brave me!
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! alas, poor ape,
+	how thou sweatest! come, let me wipe thy face;
+	come on, you whoreson chops: ah, rogue! i'faith, I
+	love thee: thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy,
+	worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than
+	the Nine Worthies: ah, villain!
+
+FALSTAFF	A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Do, an thou darest for thy heart: an thou dost,
+	I'll canvass thee between a pair of sheets.
+
+	[Enter Music]
+
+Page	The music is come, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Doll.
+	A rascal bragging slave! the rogue fled from me
+	like quicksilver.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	I' faith, and thou followedst him like a church.
+	Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig,
+	when wilt thou leave fighting o' days and foining
+	o' nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven?
+
+	[Enter, behind, PRINCE HENRY and POINS, disguised]
+
+FALSTAFF	Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a death's-head;
+	do not bid me remember mine end.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Sirrah, what humour's the prince of?
+
+FALSTAFF	A good shallow young fellow: a' would have made a
+	good pantler, a' would ha' chipp'd bread well.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	They say Poins has a good wit.
+
+FALSTAFF	He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit's as thick
+	as Tewksbury mustard; there's no more conceit in him
+	than is in a mallet.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Why does the prince love him so, then?
+
+FALSTAFF	Because their legs are both of a bigness, and a'
+	plays at quoits well, and eats conger and fennel,
+	and drinks off candles' ends for flap-dragons, and
+	rides the wild-mare with the boys, and jumps upon
+	joined-stools, and swears with a good grace, and
+	wears his boots very smooth, like unto the sign of
+	the leg, and breeds no bate with telling of discreet
+	stories; and such other gambol faculties a' has,
+	that show a weak mind and an able body, for the
+	which the prince admits him: for the prince himself
+	is such another; the weight of a hair will turn the
+	scales between their avoirdupois.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?
+
+POINS	Let's beat him before his whore.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Look, whether the withered elder hath not his poll
+	clawed like a parrot.
+
+POINS	Is it not strange that desire should so many years
+	outlive performance?
+
+FALSTAFF	Kiss me, Doll.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! what
+	says the almanac to that?
+
+POINS	And look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not
+	lisping to his master's old tables, his note-book,
+	his counsel-keeper.
+
+FALSTAFF	Thou dost give me flattering busses.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.
+
+FALSTAFF	I am old, I am old.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young
+	boy of them all.
+
+FALSTAFF	What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive
+	money o' Thursday: shalt have a cap to-morrow. A
+	merry song, come: it grows late; we'll to bed.
+	Thou'lt forget me when I am gone.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	By my troth, thou'lt set me a-weeping, an thou
+	sayest so: prove that ever I dress myself handsome
+	till thy return: well, harken at the end.
+
+FALSTAFF	Some sack, Francis.
+
+
+PRINCE HENRY	|
+	|  Anon, anon, sir.
+POINS	|
+
+
+	[Coming forward]
+
+FALSTAFF	Ha! a bastard son of the king's? And art not thou
+	Poins his brother?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Why, thou globe of sinful continents! what a life
+	dost thou lead!
+
+FALSTAFF	A better than thou: I am a gentleman; thou art a drawer.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Very true, sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	O, the Lord preserve thy good grace! by my troth,
+	welcome to London. Now, the Lord bless that sweet
+	face of thine! O, Jesu, are you come from Wales?
+
+FALSTAFF	Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light
+	flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	How, you fat fool! I scorn you.
+
+POINS	My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge and
+	turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you
+	speak of me even now before this honest, virtuous,
+	civil gentlewoman!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	God's blessing of your good heart! and so she is,
+	by my troth.
+
+FALSTAFF	Didst thou hear me?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Yea, and you knew me, as you did when you ran away
+	by Gad's-hill: you knew I was at your back, and
+	spoke it on purpose to try my patience.
+
+FALSTAFF	No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within hearing.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse;
+	and then I know how to handle you.
+
+FALSTAFF	No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour, no abuse.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Not to dispraise me, and call me pantier and
+	bread-chipper and I know not what?
+
+FALSTAFF	No abuse, Hal.
+
+POINS	No abuse?
+
+FALSTAFF	No abuse, Ned, i' the world; honest Ned, none. I
+	dispraised him before the wicked, that the wicked
+	might not fall in love with him; in which doing, I
+	have done the part of a careful friend and a true
+	subject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it.
+	No abuse, Hal: none, Ned, none: no, faith, boys, none.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice doth
+	not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to
+	close with us? is she of the wicked? is thine
+	hostess here of the wicked? or is thy boy of the
+	wicked? or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in his
+	nose, of the wicked?
+
+POINS	Answer, thou dead elm, answer.
+
+FALSTAFF	The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph irrecoverable;
+	and his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he
+	doth nothing but roast malt-worms. For the boy,
+	there is a good angel about him; but the devil
+	outbids him too.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	For the women?
+
+FALSTAFF	For one of them, she is in hell already, and burns
+	poor souls. For the other, I owe her money, and
+	whether she be damned for that, I know not.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	No, I warrant you.
+
+FALSTAFF	No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit for
+	that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee,
+	for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house,
+	contrary to the law; for the which I think thou wilt howl.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	All victuallers do so; what's a joint of mutton or
+	two in a whole Lent?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	You, gentlewoman,-
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	What says your grace?
+
+FALSTAFF	His grace says that which his flesh rebels against.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Who knocks so loud at door? Look to the door there, Francis.
+
+	[Enter PETO]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Peto, how now! what news?
+
+PETO	The king your father is at Westminster:
+	And there are twenty weak and wearied posts
+	Come from the north: and, as I came along,
+	I met and overtook a dozen captains,
+	Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns,
+	And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame,
+	So idly to profane the precious time,
+	When tempest of commotion, like the south
+	Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt
+	And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
+	Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.
+
+	[Exeunt PRINCE HENRY, POINS, PETO and BARDOLPH]
+
+FALSTAFF	Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and
+	we must hence and leave it unpicked.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+	More knocking at the door!
+
+	[Re-enter BARDOLPH]
+
+	How now! what's the matter?
+
+BARDOLPH	You must away to court, sir, presently;
+	A dozen captains stay at door for you.
+
+FALSTAFF	[To the Page]  Pay the musicians, sirrah. Farewell,
+	hostess; farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches,
+	how men of merit are sought after: the undeserver
+	may sleep, when the man of action is called on.
+	Farewell good wenches: if I be not sent away post,
+	I will see you again ere I go.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	I cannot speak; if my heart be not read to burst,--
+	well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.
+
+FALSTAFF	Farewell, farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Well, fare thee well: I have known thee these
+	twenty-nine years, come peascod-time; but an
+	honester and truer-hearted man,--well, fare thee well.
+
+BARDOLPH	[Within]  Mistress Tearsheet!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	What's the matter?
+
+BARDOLPH	[Within]  Good Mistress Tearsheet, come to my master.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	O, run, Doll, run; run, good Doll: come.
+
+	[She comes blubbered]
+
+	Yea, will you come, Doll?
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Westminster. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY IV in his nightgown, with a Page]
+
+KING HENRY IV	Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick;
+	But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters,
+	And well consider of them; make good speed.
+
+	[Exit Page]
+
+	How many thousand of my poorest subjects
+	Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep,
+	Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
+	That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
+	And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
+	Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
+	Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee
+	And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,
+	Than in the perfumed chambers of the great,
+	Under the canopies of costly state,
+	And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?
+	O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile
+	In loathsome beds, and leavest the kingly couch
+	A watch-case or a common 'larum-bell?
+	Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
+	Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
+	In cradle of the rude imperious surge
+	And in the visitation of the winds,
+	Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
+	Curling their monstrous heads and hanging them
+	With deafening clamour in the slippery clouds,
+	That, with the hurly, death itself awakes?
+	Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose
+	To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude,
+	And in the calmest and most stillest night,
+	With all appliances and means to boot,
+	Deny it to a king? Then happy low, lie down!
+	Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
+
+	[Enter WARWICK and SURREY]
+
+WARWICK	Many good morrows to your majesty!
+
+KING HENRY IV	Is it good morrow, lords?
+
+WARWICK	'Tis one o'clock, and past.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Why, then, good morrow to you all, my lords.
+	Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you?
+
+WARWICK	We have, my liege.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Then you perceive the body of our kingdom
+	How foul it is; what rank diseases grow
+	And with what danger, near the heart of it.
+
+WARWICK	It is but as a body yet distemper'd;
+	Which to his former strength may be restored
+	With good advice and little medicine:
+	My Lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.
+
+KING HENRY IV	O God! that one might read the book of fate,
+	And see the revolution of the times
+	Make mountains level, and the continent,
+	Weary of solid firmness, melt itself
+	Into the sea! and, other times, to see
+	The beachy girdle of the ocean
+	Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock,
+	And changes fill the cup of alteration
+	With divers liquors! O, if this were seen,
+	The happiest youth, viewing his progress through,
+	What perils past, what crosses to ensue,
+	Would shut the book, and sit him down and die.
+	'Tis not 'ten years gone
+	Since Richard and Northumberland, great friends,
+	Did feast together, and in two years after
+	Were they at wars: it is but eight years since
+	This Percy was the man nearest my soul,
+	Who like a brother toil'd in my affairs
+	And laid his love and life under my foot,
+	Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard
+	Gave him defiance. But which of you was by--
+	You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember--
+
+	[To WARWICK]
+
+	When Richard, with his eye brimful of tears,
+	Then cheque'd and rated by Northumberland,
+	Did speak these words, now proved a prophecy?
+	'Northumberland, thou ladder by the which
+	My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne;'
+	Though then, God knows, I had no such intent,
+	But that necessity so bow'd the state
+	That I and greatness were compell'd to kiss:
+	'The time shall come,' thus did he follow it,
+	'The time will come, that foul sin, gathering head,
+	Shall break into corruption:' so went on,
+	Foretelling this same time's condition
+	And the division of our amity.
+
+WARWICK	There is a history in all men's lives,
+	Figuring the nature of the times deceased;
+	The which observed, a man may prophesy,
+	With a near aim, of the main chance of things
+	As yet not come to life, which in their seeds
+	And weak beginnings lie intreasured.
+	Such things become the hatch and brood of time;
+	And by the necessary form of this
+	King Richard might create a perfect guess
+	That great Northumberland, then false to him,
+	Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness;
+	Which should not find a ground to root upon,
+	Unless on you.
+
+KING HENRY IV	                  Are these things then necessities?
+	Then let us meet them like necessities:
+	And that same word even now cries out on us:
+	They say the bishop and Northumberland
+	Are fifty thousand strong.
+
+WARWICK	It cannot be, my lord;
+	Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo,
+	The numbers of the fear'd. Please it your grace
+	To go to bed. Upon my soul, my lord,
+	The powers that you already have sent forth
+	Shall bring this prize in very easily.
+	To comfort you the more, I have received
+	A certain instance that Glendower is dead.
+	Your majesty hath been this fortnight ill,
+	And these unseason'd hours perforce must add
+	Unto your sickness.
+
+KING HENRY IV	I will take your counsel:
+	And were these inward wars once out of hand,
+	We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Gloucestershire. Before SHALLOW'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter SHALLOW and SILENCE, meeting; MOULDY,
+	SHADOW, WART, FEEBLE, BULLCALF, a Servant or two
+	with them]
+
+SHALLOW	Come on, come on, come on, sir; give me your hand,
+	sir, give me your hand, sir: an early stirrer, by
+	the rood! And how doth my good cousin Silence?
+
+SILENCE	Good morrow, good cousin Shallow.
+
+SHALLOW	And how doth my cousin, your bedfellow? and your
+	fairest daughter and mine, my god-daughter Ellen?
+
+SILENCE	Alas, a black ousel, cousin Shallow!
+
+SHALLOW	By yea and nay, sir, I dare say my cousin William is
+	become a good scholar: he is at Oxford still, is he not?
+
+SILENCE	Indeed, sir, to my cost.
+
+SHALLOW	A' must, then, to the inns o' court shortly. I was
+	once of Clement's Inn, where I think they will
+	talk of mad Shallow yet.
+
+SILENCE	You were called 'lusty Shallow' then, cousin.
+
+SHALLOW	By the mass, I was called any thing; and I would
+	have done any thing indeed too, and roundly too.
+	There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire,
+	and black George Barnes, and Francis Pickbone, and
+	Will Squele, a Cotswold man; you had not four such
+	swinge-bucklers in all the inns o' court again: and
+	I may say to you, we knew where the bona-robas were
+	and had the best of them all at commandment. Then
+	was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a boy, and page to
+	Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.
+
+SILENCE	This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about soldiers?
+
+SHALLOW	The same Sir John, the very same. I  see him break
+	Skogan's head at the court-gate, when a' was a
+	crack not thus high: and the very same day did I
+	fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer,
+	behind Gray's Inn. Jesu, Jesu, the mad days that I
+	have spent! and to see how many of my old
+	acquaintance are dead!
+
+SILENCE	We shall all follow, cousin.
+
+SHADOW	Certain, 'tis certain; very sure, very sure: death,
+	as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall
+	die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair?
+
+SILENCE	By my troth, I was not there.
+
+SHALLOW	Death is certain. Is old Double of your town living
+	yet?
+
+SILENCE	Dead, sir.
+
+SHALLOW	Jesu, Jesu, dead! a' drew a good bow; and dead! a'
+	shot a fine shoot: John a Gaunt loved him well, and
+	betted much money on his head. Dead! a' would have
+	clapped i' the clout at twelve score; and carried
+	you a forehand shaft a fourteen and fourteen and a
+	half, that it would have done a man's heart good to
+	see. How a score of ewes now?
+
+SILENCE	Thereafter as they be: a score of good ewes may be
+	worth ten pounds.
+
+SHALLOW	And is old Double dead?
+
+SILENCE	Here come two of Sir John Falstaff's men, as I think.
+
+	[Enter BARDOLPH and one with him]
+
+BARDOLPH	Good morrow, honest gentlemen: I beseech you, which
+	is Justice Shallow?
+
+SHALLOW	I am Robert Shallow, sir; a poor esquire of this
+	county, and one of the king's justices of the peace:
+	What is your good pleasure with me?
+
+BARDOLPH	My captain, sir, commends him to you; my captain,
+	Sir John Falstaff, a tall gentleman, by heaven, and
+	a most gallant leader.
+
+SHALLOW	He greets me well, sir. I knew him a good backsword
+	man. How doth the good knight? may I ask how my
+	lady his wife doth?
+
+BARDOLPH	Sir, pardon; a soldier is better accommodated than
+	with a wife.
+
+SHALLOW	It is well said, in faith, sir; and it is well said
+	indeed too. Better accommodated! it is good; yea,
+	indeed, is it: good phrases are surely, and ever
+	were, very commendable. Accommodated! it comes of
+	'accommodo' very good; a good phrase.
+
+BARDOLPH	Pardon me, sir; I have heard the word. Phrase call
+	you it? by this good day, I know not the phrase;
+	but I will maintain the word with my sword to be a
+	soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good
+	command, by heaven. Accommodated; that is, when a
+	man is, as they say, accommodated; or when a man is,
+	being, whereby a' may be thought to be accommodated;
+	which is an excellent thing.
+
+SHALLOW	It is very just.
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF]
+
+	Look, here comes good Sir John. Give me your good
+	hand, give me your worship's good hand: by my
+	troth, you like well and bear your years very well:
+	welcome, good Sir John.
+
+FALSTAFF	I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert
+	Shallow: Master Surecard, as I think?
+
+SHALLOW	No, Sir John; it is my cousin Silence, in commission with me.
+
+FALSTAFF	Good Master Silence, it well befits you should be of
+	the peace.
+
+SILENCE	Your good-worship is welcome.
+
+FALSTAFF	Fie! this is hot weather, gentlemen. Have you
+	provided me here half a dozen sufficient men?
+
+SHALLOW	Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit?
+
+FALSTAFF	Let me see them, I beseech you.
+
+SHALLOW	Where's the roll? where's the roll? where's the
+	roll? Let me see, let me see, let me see. So, so:
+	yea, marry, sir: Ralph Mouldy! Let them appear as
+	I call; let them do so, let them do so. Let me
+	see; where is Mouldy?
+
+MOULDY	Here, an't please you.
+
+SHALLOW	What think you, Sir John? a good-limbed fellow;
+	young, strong, and of good friends.
+
+FALSTAFF	Is thy name Mouldy?
+
+MOULDY	Yea, an't please you.
+
+FALSTAFF	'Tis the more time thou wert used.
+
+SHALLOW	Ha, ha, ha! most excellent, i' faith! Things that
+	are mouldy lack use: very singular good! in faith,
+	well said, Sir John, very well said.
+
+FALSTAFF	Prick him.
+
+MOULDY	I was pricked well enough before, an you could have
+	let me alone: my old dame will be undone now for
+	one to do her husbandry and her drudgery: you need
+	not to have pricked me; there are other men fitter
+	to go out than I.
+
+FALSTAFF	Go to: peace, Mouldy; you shall go. Mouldy, it is
+	time you were spent.
+
+MOULDY	Spent!
+
+SHALLOW	Peace, fellow, peace; stand aside: know you where
+	you are? For the other, Sir John: let me see:
+	Simon Shadow!
+
+FALSTAFF	Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under: he's like
+	to be a cold soldier.
+
+SHALLOW	Where's Shadow?
+
+SHADOW	Here, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	Shadow, whose son art thou?
+
+SHADOW	My mother's son, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	Thy mother's son! like enough, and thy father's
+	shadow: so the son of the female is the shadow of
+	the male: it is often so, indeed; but much of the
+	father's substance!
+
+SHALLOW	Do you like him, Sir John?
+
+FALSTAFF	Shadow will serve for summer; prick him, for we have
+	a number of shadows to fill up the muster-book.
+
+SHALLOW	Thomas Wart!
+
+FALSTAFF	Where's he?
+
+WART	Here, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	Is thy name Wart?
+
+WART	Yea, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	Thou art a very ragged wart.
+
+SHALLOW	Shall I prick him down, Sir John?
+
+FALSTAFF	It were superfluous; for his apparel is built upon
+	his back and the whole frame stands upon pins:
+	prick him no more.
+
+SHALLOW	Ha, ha, ha! you can do it, sir; you can do it: I
+	commend you well. Francis Feeble!
+
+FEEBLE	Here, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	What trade art thou, Feeble?
+
+FEEBLE	A woman's tailor, sir.
+
+SHALLOW	Shall I prick him, sir?
+
+FALSTAFF	You may: but if he had been a man's tailor, he'ld
+	ha' pricked you. Wilt thou make as many holes in
+	an enemy's battle as thou hast done in a woman's petticoat?
+
+FEEBLE	I will do my good will, sir; you can have no more.
+
+FALSTAFF	Well said, good woman's tailor! well said,
+	courageous Feeble! thou wilt be as valiant as the
+	wrathful dove or most magnanimous mouse. Prick the
+	woman's tailor: well, Master Shallow; deep, Master Shallow.
+
+FEEBLE	I would Wart might have gone, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	I would thou wert a man's tailor, that thou mightst
+	mend him and make him fit to go. I cannot put him
+	to a private soldier that is the leader of so many
+	thousands: let that suffice, most forcible Feeble.
+
+FEEBLE	It shall suffice, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. Who is next?
+
+SHALLOW	Peter Bullcalf o' the green!
+
+FALSTAFF	Yea, marry, let's see Bullcalf.
+
+BULLCALF	Here, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	'Fore God, a likely fellow! Come, prick me Bullcalf
+	till he roar again.
+
+BULLCALF	O Lord! good my lord captain,--
+
+FALSTAFF	What, dost thou roar before thou art pricked?
+
+BULLCALF	O Lord, sir! I am a diseased man.
+
+FALSTAFF	What disease hast thou?
+
+BULLCALF	A whoreson cold, sir, a cough, sir, which I caught
+	with ringing in the king's affairs upon his
+	coronation-day, sir.
+
+FALSTAFF	Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown; we wilt
+	have away thy cold; and I will take such order that
+	my friends shall ring for thee. Is here all?
+
+SHALLOW	Here is two more called than your number, you must
+	have but four here, sir: and so, I pray you, go in
+	with me to dinner.
+
+FALSTAFF	Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry
+	dinner. I am glad to see you, by my troth, Master Shallow.
+
+SHALLOW	O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all night
+	in the windmill in Saint George's field?
+
+FALSTAFF	No more of that, good Master Shallow, no more of that.
+
+SHALLOW	Ha! 'twas a merry night. And is Jane Nightwork alive?
+
+FALSTAFF	She lives, Master Shallow.
+
+SHALLOW	She never could away with me.
+
+FALSTAFF	Never, never; she would always say she could not
+	abide Master Shallow.
+
+SHALLOW	By the mass, I could anger her to the heart. She
+	was then a bona-roba. Doth she hold her own well?
+
+FALSTAFF	Old, old, Master Shallow.
+
+SHALLOW	Nay, she must be old; she cannot choose but be old;
+	certain she's old; and had Robin Nightwork by old
+	Nightwork before I came to Clement's Inn.
+
+SILENCE	That's fifty-five year ago.
+
+SHALLOW	Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that that
+	this knight and I have seen! Ha, Sir John, said I well?
+
+FALSTAFF	We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master Shallow.
+
+SHALLOW	That we have, that we have, that we have; in faith,
+	Sir John, we have: our watch-word was 'Hem boys!'
+	Come, let's to dinner; come, let's to dinner:
+	Jesus, the days that we have seen! Come, come.
+
+	[Exeunt FALSTAFF and Justices]
+
+BULLCALF	Good Master Corporate Bardolph, stand my friend;
+	and here's four Harry ten shillings in French crowns
+	for you. In very truth, sir, I had as lief be
+	hanged, sir, as go: and yet, for mine own part, sir,
+	I do not care; but rather, because I am unwilling,
+	and, for mine own part, have a desire to stay with
+	my friends; else, sir, I did not care, for mine own
+	part, so much.
+
+BARDOLPH	Go to; stand aside.
+
+MOULDY	And, good master corporal captain, for my old
+	dame's sake, stand my friend: she has nobody to do
+	any thing about her when I am gone; and she is old,
+	and cannot help herself: You shall have forty, sir.
+
+BARDOLPH	Go to; stand aside.
+
+FEEBLE	By my troth, I care not; a man can die but once: we
+	owe God a death: I'll ne'er bear a base mind:
+	an't be my destiny, so; an't be not, so: no man is
+	too good to serve's prince; and let it go which way
+	it will, he that dies this year is quit for the next.
+
+BARDOLPH	Well said; thou'rt a good fellow.
+
+FEEBLE	Faith, I'll bear no base mind.
+
+	[Re-enter FALSTAFF and the Justices]
+
+FALSTAFF	Come, sir, which men shall I have?
+
+SHALLOW	Four of which you please.
+
+BARDOLPH	Sir, a word with you: I have three pound to free
+	Mouldy and Bullcalf.
+
+FALSTAFF	Go to; well.
+
+SHALLOW	Come, Sir John, which four will you have?
+
+FALSTAFF	Do you choose for me.
+
+SHALLOW	Marry, then, Mouldy, Bullcalf, Feeble and Shadow.
+
+FALSTAFF	Mouldy and Bullcalf: for you, Mouldy, stay at home
+	till you are past service: and for your part,
+	Bullcalf, grow till you come unto it: I will none of you.
+
+SHALLOW	Sir John, Sir John, do not yourself wrong: they are
+	your likeliest men, and I would have you served with the best.
+
+FALSTAFF	Will you tell me, Master Shallow, how to choose a
+	man? Care I for the limb, the thewes, the stature,
+	bulk, and big assemblance of a man! Give me the
+	spirit, Master Shallow. Here's Wart; you see what a
+	ragged appearance it is; a' shall charge you and
+	discharge you with the motion of a pewterer's
+	hammer, come off and on swifter than he that gibbets
+	on the brewer's bucket. And this same half-faced
+	fellow, Shadow; give me this man: he presents no
+	mark to the enemy; the foeman may with as great aim
+	level at the edge of a penknife. And for a retreat;
+	how swiftly will this Feeble the woman's tailor run
+	off! O, give me the spare men, and spare me the
+	great ones. Put me a caliver into Wart's hand, Bardolph.
+
+BARDOLPH	Hold, Wart, traverse; thus, thus, thus.
+
+FALSTAFF	Come, manage me your caliver. So: very well: go
+	to: very good, exceeding good. O, give me always a
+	little, lean, old, chapt, bald shot. Well said, i'
+	faith, Wart; thou'rt a good scab: hold, there's a
+	tester for thee.
+
+SHALLOW	He is not his craft's master; he doth not do it
+	right. I remember at Mile-end Green, when I lay at
+	Clement's Inn--I was then Sir Dagonet in Arthur's
+	show,--there was a little quiver fellow, and a'
+	would manage you his piece thus; and a' would about
+	and about, and come you in and come you in: 'rah,
+	tah, tah,' would a' say; 'bounce' would a' say; and
+	away again would a' go, and again would a' come: I
+	shall ne'er see such a fellow.
+
+FALSTAFF	These fellows will do well, Master Shallow. God
+	keep you, Master Silence: I will not use many words
+	with you. Fare you well, gentlemen both: I thank
+	you: I must a dozen mile to-night. Bardolph, give
+	the soldiers coats.
+
+SHALLOW	Sir John, the Lord bless you! God prosper your
+	affairs! God send us peace! At your return visit
+	our house; let our old acquaintance be renewed;
+	peradventure I will with ye to the court.
+
+FALSTAFF	'Fore God, I would you would, Master Shallow.
+
+SHALLOW	Go to; I have spoke at a word. God keep you.
+
+FALSTAFF	Fare you well, gentle gentlemen.
+
+	[Exeunt Justices]
+
+	On, Bardolph; lead the men away.
+
+	[Exeunt BARDOLPH, Recruits, &c]
+
+	As I return, I will fetch off these justices: I do
+	see the bottom of Justice Shallow. Lord, Lord, how
+	subject we old men are to this vice of lying! This
+	same starved justice hath done nothing but prate to
+	me of the wildness of his youth, and the feats he
+	hath done about Turnbull Street: and every third
+	word a lie, duer paid to the hearer than the Turk's
+	tribute. I do remember him at Clement's Inn like a
+	man made after supper of a cheese-paring: when a'
+	was naked, he was, for all the world, like a forked
+	radish, with a head fantastically carved upon it
+	with a knife: a' was so forlorn, that his
+	dimensions to any thick sight were invincible: a'
+	was the very genius of famine; yet lecherous as a
+	monkey, and the whores called him mandrake: a' came
+	ever in the rearward of the fashion, and sung those
+	tunes to the overscutched huswives that he heard the
+	carmen whistle, and swear they were his fancies or
+	his good-nights. And now is this Vice's dagger
+	become a squire, and talks as familiarly of John a
+	Gaunt as if he had been sworn brother to him; and
+	I'll be sworn a' ne'er saw him but once in the
+	Tilt-yard; and then he burst his head for crowding
+	among the marshal's men. I saw it, and told John a
+	Gaunt he beat his own name; for you might have
+	thrust him and all his apparel into an eel-skin; the
+	case of a treble hautboy was a mansion for him, a
+	court: and now has he land and beefs. Well, I'll
+	be acquainted with him, if I return; and it shall
+	go hard but I will make him a philosopher's two
+	stones to me: if the young dace be a bait for the
+	old pike, I see no reason in the law of nature but I
+	may snap at him. Let time shape, and there an end.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Yorkshire. Gaultree Forest.
+
+
+	[Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, MOWBRAY, LORD
+	HASTINGS, and others]
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	What is this forest call'd?
+
+HASTINGS	'Tis Gaultree Forest, an't shall please your grace.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Here stand, my lords; and send discoverers forth
+	To know the numbers of our enemies.
+
+HASTINGS	We have sent forth already.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	'Tis well done.
+	My friends and brethren in these great affairs,
+	I must acquaint you that I have received
+	New-dated letters from Northumberland;
+	Their cold intent, tenor and substance, thus:
+	Here doth he wish his person, with such powers
+	As might hold sortance with his quality,
+	The which he could not levy; whereupon
+	He is retired, to ripe his growing fortunes,
+	To Scotland: and concludes in hearty prayers
+	That your attempts may overlive the hazard
+	And fearful melting of their opposite.
+
+MOWBRAY	Thus do the hopes we have in him touch ground
+	And dash themselves to pieces.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+HASTINGS	Now, what news?
+
+Messenger	West of this forest, scarcely off a mile,
+	In goodly form comes on the enemy;
+	And, by the ground they hide, I judge their number
+	Upon or near the rate of thirty thousand.
+
+MOWBRAY	The just proportion that we gave them out
+	Let us sway on and face them in the field.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	What well-appointed leader fronts us here?
+
+	[Enter WESTMORELAND]
+
+MOWBRAY	I think it is my Lord of Westmoreland.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Health and fair greeting from our general,
+	The prince, Lord John and Duke of Lancaster.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Say on, my Lord of Westmoreland, in peace:
+	What doth concern your coming?
+
+WESTMORELAND	Then, my lord,
+	Unto your grace do I in chief address
+	The substance of my speech. If that rebellion
+	Came like itself, in base and abject routs,
+	Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rags,
+	And countenanced by boys and beggary,
+	I say, if damn'd commotion so appear'd,
+	In his true, native and most proper shape,
+	You, reverend father, and these noble lords
+	Had not been here, to dress the ugly form
+	Of base and bloody insurrection
+	With your fair honours. You, lord archbishop,
+	Whose see is by a civil peace maintained,
+	Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch'd,
+	Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutor'd,
+	Whose white investments figure innocence,
+	The dove and very blessed spirit of peace,
+	Wherefore do you so ill translate ourself
+	Out of the speech of peace that bears such grace,
+	Into the harsh and boisterous tongue of war;
+	Turning your books to graves, your ink to blood,
+	Your pens to lances and your tongue divine
+	To a trumpet and a point of war?
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Wherefore do I this? so the question stands.
+	Briefly to this end: we are all diseased,
+	And with our surfeiting and wanton hours
+	Have brought ourselves into a burning fever,
+	And we must bleed for it; of which disease
+	Our late king, Richard, being infected, died.
+	But, my most noble Lord of Westmoreland,
+	I take not on me here as a physician,
+	Nor do I as an enemy to peace
+	Troop in the throngs of military men;
+	But rather show awhile like fearful war,
+	To diet rank minds sick of happiness
+	And purge the obstructions which begin to stop
+	Our very veins of life. Hear me more plainly.
+	I have in equal balance justly weigh'd
+	What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer,
+	And find our griefs heavier than our offences.
+	We see which way the stream of time doth run,
+	And are enforced from our most quiet there
+	By the rough torrent of occasion;
+	And have the summary of all our griefs,
+	When time shall serve, to show in articles;
+	Which long ere this we offer'd to the king,
+	And might by no suit gain our audience:
+	When we are wrong'd and would unfold our griefs,
+	We are denied access unto his person
+	Even by those men that most have done us wrong.
+	The dangers of the days but newly gone,
+	Whose memory is written on the earth
+	With yet appearing blood, and the examples
+	Of every minute's instance, present now,
+	Hath put us in these ill-beseeming arms,
+	Not to break peace or any branch of it,
+	But to establish here a peace indeed,
+	Concurring both in name and quality.
+
+WESTMORELAND	When ever yet was your appeal denied?
+	Wherein have you been galled by the king?
+	What peer hath been suborn'd to grate on you,
+	That you should seal this lawless bloody book
+	Of forged rebellion with a seal divine
+	And consecrate commotion's bitter edge?
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	My brother general, the commonwealth,
+	To brother born an household cruelty,
+	I make my quarrel in particular.
+
+WESTMORELAND	There is no need of any such redress;
+	Or if there were, it not belongs to you.
+
+MOWBRAY	Why not to him in part, and to us all
+	That feel the bruises of the days before,
+	And suffer the condition of these times
+	To lay a heavy and unequal hand
+	Upon our honours?
+
+WESTMORELAND	                  O, my good Lord Mowbray,
+	Construe the times to their necessities,
+	And you shall say indeed, it is the time,
+	And not the king, that doth you injuries.
+	Yet for your part, it not appears to me
+	Either from the king or in the present time
+	That you should have an inch of any ground
+	To build a grief on: were you not restored
+	To all the Duke of Norfolk's signories,
+	Your noble and right well remember'd father's?
+
+MOWBRAY	What thing, in honour, had my father lost,
+	That need to be revived and breathed in me?
+	The king that loved him, as the state stood then,
+	Was force perforce compell'd to banish him:
+	And then that Harry Bolingbroke and he,
+	Being mounted and both roused in their seats,
+	Their neighing coursers daring of the spur,
+	Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down,
+	Their eyes of fire sparking through sights of steel
+	And the loud trumpet blowing them together,
+	Then, then, when there was nothing could have stay'd
+	My father from the breast of Bolingbroke,
+	O when the king did throw his warder down,
+	His own life hung upon the staff he threw;
+	Then threw he down himself and all their lives
+	That by indictment and by dint of sword
+	Have since miscarried under Bolingbroke.
+
+WESTMORELAND	You speak, Lord Mowbray, now you know not what.
+	The Earl of Hereford was reputed then
+	In England the most valiant gentlemen:
+	Who knows on whom fortune would then have smiled?
+	But if your father had been victor there,
+	He ne'er had borne it out of Coventry:
+	For all the country in a general voice
+	Cried hate upon him; and all their prayers and love
+	Were set on Hereford, whom they doted on
+	And bless'd and graced indeed, more than the king.
+	But this is mere digression from my purpose.
+	Here come I from our princely general
+	To know your griefs; to tell you from his grace
+	That he will give you audience; and wherein
+	It shall appear that your demands are just,
+	You shall enjoy them, every thing set off
+	That might so much as think you enemies.
+
+MOWBRAY	But he hath forced us to compel this offer;
+	And it proceeds from policy, not love.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Mowbray, you overween to take it so;
+	This offer comes from mercy, not from fear:
+	For, lo! within a ken our army lies,
+	Upon mine honour, all too confident
+	To give admittance to a thought of fear.
+	Our battle is more full of names than yours,
+	Our men more perfect in the use of arms,
+	Our armour all as strong, our cause the best;
+	Then reason will our heart should be as good
+	Say you not then our offer is compell'd.
+
+MOWBRAY	Well, by my will we shall admit no parley.
+
+WESTMORELAND	That argues but the shame of your offence:
+	A rotten case abides no handling.
+
+HASTINGS	Hath the Prince John a full commission,
+	In very ample virtue of his father,
+	To hear and absolutely to determine
+	Of what conditions we shall stand upon?
+
+WESTMORELAND	That is intended in the general's name:
+	I muse you make so slight a question.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Then take, my Lord of Westmoreland, this schedule,
+	For this contains our general grievances:
+	Each several article herein redress'd,
+	All members of our cause, both here and hence,
+	That are insinew'd to this action,
+	Acquitted by a true substantial form
+	And present execution of our wills
+	To us and to our purposes confined,
+	We come within our awful banks again
+	And knit our powers to the arm of peace.
+
+WESTMORELAND	This will I show the general. Please you, lords,
+	In sight of both our battles we may meet;
+	And either end in peace, which God so frame!
+	Or to the place of difference call the swords
+	Which must decide it.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	My lord, we will do so.
+
+	[Exit WESTMORELAND]
+
+MOWBRAY	There is a thing within my bosom tells me
+	That no conditions of our peace can stand.
+
+HASTINGS	Fear you not that: if we can make our peace
+	Upon such large terms and so absolute
+	As our conditions shall consist upon,
+	Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.
+
+MOWBRAY	Yea, but our valuation shall be such
+	That every slight and false-derived cause,
+	Yea, every idle, nice and wanton reason
+	Shall to the king taste of this action;
+	That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love,
+	We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind
+	That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff
+	And good from bad find no partition.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	No, no, my lord. Note this; the king is weary
+	Of dainty and such picking grievances:
+	For he hath found to end one doubt by death
+	Revives two greater in the heirs of life,
+	And therefore will he wipe his tables clean
+	And keep no tell-tale to his memory
+	That may repeat and history his loss
+	To new remembrance; for full well he knows
+	He cannot so precisely weed this land
+	As his misdoubts present occasion:
+	His foes are so enrooted with his friends
+	That, plucking to unfix an enemy,
+	He doth unfasten so and shake a friend:
+	So that this land, like an offensive wife
+	That hath enraged him on to offer strokes,
+	As he is striking, holds his infant up
+	And hangs resolved correction in the arm
+	That was uprear'd to execution.
+
+HASTINGS	Besides, the king hath wasted all his rods
+	On late offenders, that he now doth lack
+	The very instruments of chastisement:
+	So that his power, like to a fangless lion,
+	May offer, but not hold.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	'Tis very true:
+	And therefore be assured, my good lord marshal,
+	If we do now make our atonement well,
+	Our peace will, like a broken limb united,
+	Grow stronger for the breaking.
+
+MOWBRAY	Be it so.
+	Here is return'd my Lord of Westmoreland.
+
+	[Re-enter WESTMORELAND]
+
+WESTMORELAND	The prince is here at hand: pleaseth your lordship
+	To meet his grace just distance 'tween our armies.
+
+MOWBRAY	Your grace of York, in God's name then, set forward.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Before, and greet his grace: my lord, we come.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Another part of the forest.
+
+
+	[Enter, from one side, MOWBRAY, attended; afterwards
+	the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, HASTINGS, and others: from
+	the other side, Prince John of LANCASTER, and
+	WESTMORELAND; Officers, and others with them]
+
+LANCASTER	You are well encounter'd here, my cousin Mowbray:
+	Good day to you, gentle lord archbishop;
+	And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all.
+	My Lord of York, it better show'd with you
+	When that your flock, assembled by the bell,
+	Encircled you to hear with reverence
+	Your exposition on the holy text
+	Than now to see you here an iron man,
+	Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum,
+	Turning the word to sword and life to death.
+	That man that sits within a monarch's heart,
+	And ripens in the sunshine of his favour,
+	Would he abuse the countenance of the king,
+	Alack, what mischiefs might he set abrooch
+	In shadow of such greatness! With you, lord bishop,
+	It is even so. Who hath not heard it spoken
+	How deep you were within the books of God?
+	To us the speaker in his parliament;
+	To us the imagined voice of God himself;
+	The very opener and intelligencer
+	Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven
+	And our dull workings. O, who shall believe
+	But you misuse the reverence of your place,
+	Employ the countenance and grace of heaven,
+	As a false favourite doth his prince's name,
+	In deeds dishonourable? You have ta'en up,
+	Under the counterfeited zeal of God,
+	The subjects of his substitute, my father,
+	And both against the peace of heaven and him
+	Have here up-swarm'd them.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Good my Lord of Lancaster,
+	I am not here against your father's peace;
+	But, as I told my lord of Westmoreland,
+	The time misorder'd doth, in common sense,
+	Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form,
+	To hold our safety up. I sent your grace
+	The parcels and particulars of our grief,
+	The which hath been with scorn shoved from the court,
+	Whereon this Hydra son of war is born;
+	Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleep
+	With grant of our most just and right desires,
+	And true obedience, of this madness cured,
+	Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty.
+
+MOWBRAY	If not, we ready are to try our fortunes
+	To the last man.
+
+HASTINGS	                  And though we here fall down,
+	We have supplies to second our attempt:
+	If they miscarry, theirs shall second them;
+	And so success of mischief shall be born
+	And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up
+	Whiles England shall have generation.
+
+LANCASTER	You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow,
+	To sound the bottom of the after-times.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Pleaseth your grace to answer them directly
+	How far forth you do like their articles.
+
+LANCASTER	I like them all, and do allow them well,
+	And swear here, by the honour of my blood,
+	My father's purposes have been mistook,
+	And some about him have too lavishly
+	Wrested his meaning and authority.
+	My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress'd;
+	Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you,
+	Discharge your powers unto their several counties,
+	As we will ours: and here between the armies
+	Let's drink together friendly and embrace,
+	That all their eyes may bear those tokens home
+	Of our restored love and amity.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	I take your princely word for these redresses.
+
+LANCASTER	I give it you, and will maintain my word:
+	And thereupon I drink unto your grace.
+
+HASTINGS	Go, captain, and deliver to the army
+	This news of peace: let them have pay, and part:
+	I know it will well please them. Hie thee, captain.
+
+	[Exit Officer]
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	To you, my noble Lord of Westmoreland.
+
+WESTMORELAND	I pledge your grace; and, if you knew what pains
+	I have bestow'd to breed this present peace,
+	You would drink freely: but my love to ye
+	Shall show itself more openly hereafter.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	I do not doubt you.
+
+WESTMORELAND	I am glad of it.
+	Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray.
+
+MOWBRAY	You wish me health in very happy season;
+	For I am, on the sudden, something ill.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Against ill chances men are ever merry;
+	But heaviness foreruns the good event.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Therefore be merry, coz; since sudden sorrow
+	Serves to say thus, 'some good thing comes
+	to-morrow.'
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Believe me, I am passing light in spirit.
+
+MOWBRAY	So much the worse, if your own rule be true.
+
+	[Shouts within]
+
+LANCASTER	The word of peace is render'd: hark, how they shout!
+
+MOWBRAY	This had been cheerful after victory.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	A peace is of the nature of a conquest;
+	For then both parties nobly are subdued,
+	And neither party loser.
+
+LANCASTER	Go, my lord,
+	And let our army be discharged too.
+
+	[Exit WESTMORELAND]
+
+	And, good my lord, so please you, let our trains
+	March, by us, that we may peruse the men
+	We should have coped withal.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Go, good Lord Hastings,
+	And, ere they be dismissed, let them march by.
+
+	[Exit HASTINGS]
+
+LANCASTER	I trust, lords, we shall lie to-night together.
+
+	[Re-enter WESTMORELAND]
+
+	Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still?
+
+WESTMORELAND	The leaders, having charge from you to stand,
+	Will not go off until they hear you speak.
+
+LANCASTER	They know their duties.
+
+	[Re-enter HASTINGS]
+
+HASTINGS	My lord, our army is dispersed already;
+	Like youthful steers unyoked, they take their courses
+	East, west, north, south; or, like a school broke up,
+	Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Good tidings, my Lord Hastings; for the which
+	I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason:
+	And you, lord archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray,
+	Of capitol treason I attach you both.
+
+MOWBRAY	Is this proceeding just and honourable?
+
+WESTMORELAND	Is your assembly so?
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Will you thus break your faith?
+
+LANCASTER	I pawn'd thee none:
+	I promised you redress of these same grievances
+	Whereof you did complain; which, by mine honour,
+	I will perform with a most Christian care.
+	But for you, rebels, look to taste the due
+	Meet for rebellion and such acts as yours.
+	Most shallowly did you these arms commence,
+	Fondly brought here and foolishly sent hence.
+	Strike up our drums, pursue the scatter'd stray:
+	God, and not we, hath safely fought to-day.
+	Some guard these traitors to the block of death,
+	Treason's true bed and yielder up of breath.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Another part of the forest.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Excursions. Enter FALSTAFF and COLEVILE, meeting]
+
+FALSTAFF	What's your name, sir? of what condition are you,
+	and of what place, I pray?
+
+COLEVILE	I am a knight, sir, and my name is Colevile of the dale.
+
+FALSTAFF	Well, then, Colevile is your name, a knight is your
+	degree, and your place the dale: Colevile shall be
+	still your name, a traitor your degree, and the
+	dungeon your place, a place deep enough; so shall
+	you be still Colevile of the dale.
+
+COLEVILE	Are not you Sir John Falstaff?
+
+FALSTAFF	As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do ye
+	yield, sir? or shall I sweat for you? if I do
+	sweat, they are the drops of thy lovers, and they
+	weep for thy death: therefore rouse up fear and
+	trembling, and do observance to my mercy.
+
+COLEVILE	I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in that
+	thought yield me.
+
+FALSTAFF	I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of
+	mine, and not a tongue of them all speaks any other
+	word but my name. An I had but a belly of any
+	indifference, I were simply the most active fellow
+	in Europe: my womb, my womb, my womb, undoes me.
+	Here comes our general.
+
+	[Enter PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER, WESTMORELAND,
+	BLUNT, and others]
+
+LANCASTER	The heat is past; follow no further now:
+	Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.
+
+	[Exit WESTMORELAND]
+
+	Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while?
+	When every thing is ended, then you come:
+	These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,
+	One time or other break some gallows' back.
+
+FALSTAFF	I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus: I
+	never knew yet but rebuke and cheque was the reward
+	of valour. Do you think me a swallow, an arrow, or a
+	bullet? have I, in my poor and old motion, the
+	expedition of thought? I have speeded hither with
+	the very extremest inch of possibility; I have
+	foundered nine score and odd posts: and here,
+	travel-tainted as I am, have in my pure and
+	immaculate valour, taken Sir John Colevile of the
+	dale, a most furious knight and valorous enemy.
+	But what of that? he saw me, and yielded; that I
+	may justly say, with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome,
+	'I came, saw, and overcame.'
+
+LANCASTER	It was more of his courtesy than your deserving.
+
+FALSTAFF	I know not: here he is, and here I yield him: and
+	I beseech your grace, let it be booked with the
+	rest of this day's deeds; or, by the Lord, I will
+	have it in a particular ballad else, with mine own
+	picture on the top on't, Colevile kissing my foot:
+	to the which course if I be enforced, if you do not
+	all show like gilt twopences to me, and I in the
+	clear sky of fame o'ershine you as much as the full
+	moon doth the cinders of the element, which show
+	like pins' heads to her, believe not the word of
+	the noble: therefore let me have right, and let
+	desert mount.
+
+LANCASTER	Thine's too heavy to mount.
+
+FALSTAFF	Let it shine, then.
+
+LANCASTER	Thine's too thick to shine.
+
+FALSTAFF	Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me
+	good, and call it what you will.
+
+LANCASTER	Is thy name Colevile?
+
+COLEVILE	It is, my lord.
+
+LANCASTER	A famous rebel art thou, Colevile.
+
+FALSTAFF	And a famous true subject took him.
+
+COLEVILE	I am, my lord, but as my betters are
+	That led me hither: had they been ruled by me,
+	You should have won them dearer than you have.
+
+FALSTAFF	I know not how they sold themselves: but thou, like
+	a kind fellow, gavest thyself away gratis; and I
+	thank thee for thee.
+
+	[Re-enter WESTMORELAND]
+
+LANCASTER	Now, have you left pursuit?
+
+WESTMORELAND	Retreat is made and execution stay'd.
+
+LANCASTER	Send Colevile with his confederates
+	To York, to present execution:
+	Blunt, lead him hence; and see you guard him sure.
+
+	[Exeunt BLUNT and others with COLEVILE]
+
+	And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords:
+	I hear the king my father is sore sick:
+	Our news shall go before us to his majesty,
+	Which, cousin, you shall bear to comfort him,
+	And we with sober speed will follow you.
+
+FALSTAFF	My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go
+	Through Gloucestershire: and, when you come to court,
+	Stand my good lord, pray, in your good report.
+
+LANCASTER	Fare you well, Falstaff: I, in my condition,
+	Shall better speak of you than you deserve.
+
+	[Exeunt all but Falstaff]
+
+FALSTAFF	I would you had but the wit: 'twere better than
+	your dukedom. Good faith, this same young sober-
+	blooded boy doth not love me; nor a man cannot make
+	him laugh; but that's no marvel, he drinks no wine.
+	There's never none of these demure boys come to any
+	proof; for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood,
+	and making many fish-meals, that they fall into a
+	kind of male green-sickness; and then when they
+	marry, they get wenches: they are generally fools
+	and cowards; which some of us should be too, but for
+	inflammation. A good sherris sack hath a two-fold
+	operation in it. It ascends me into the brain;
+	dries me there all the foolish and dull and curdy
+	vapours which environ it; makes it apprehensive,
+	quick, forgetive, full of nimble fiery and
+	delectable shapes, which, delivered o'er to the
+	voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes
+	excellent wit. The second property of your
+	excellent sherris is, the warming of the blood;
+	which, before cold and settled, left the liver
+	white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity
+	and cowardice; but the sherris warms it and makes
+	it course from the inwards to the parts extreme:
+	it illumineth the face, which as a beacon gives
+	warning to all the rest of this little kingdom,
+	man, to arm; and then the vital commoners and
+	inland petty spirits muster me all to their captain,
+	the heart, who, great and puffed up with this
+	retinue, doth any deed of courage; and this valour
+	comes of sherris. So that skill in the weapon is
+	nothing without sack, for that sets it a-work; and
+	learning a mere hoard of gold kept by a devil, till
+	sack commences it and sets it in act and use.
+	Hereof comes it that Prince Harry is valiant; for
+	the cold blood he did naturally inherit of his
+	father, he hath, like lean, sterile and bare land,
+	manured, husbanded and tilled with excellent
+	endeavour of drinking good and good store of fertile
+	sherris, that he is become very hot and valiant. If
+	I had a thousand sons, the first humane principle I
+	would teach them should be, to forswear thin
+	potations and to addict themselves to sack.
+
+	[Enter BARDOLPH]
+
+	How now Bardolph?
+
+BARDOLPH	The army is discharged all and gone.
+
+FALSTAFF	Let them go. I'll through Gloucestershire; and
+	there will I visit Master Robert Shallow, esquire:
+	I have him already tempering between my finger and
+	my thumb, and shortly will I seal with him. Come away.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Westminster. The Jerusalem Chamber.
+
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY IV, the Princes Thomas of CLARENCE
+	and Humphrey of GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, and others]
+
+KING HENRY IV	Now, lords, if God doth give successful end
+	To this debate that bleedeth at our doors,
+	We will our youth lead on to higher fields
+	And draw no swords but what are sanctified.
+	Our navy is address'd, our power collected,
+	Our substitutes in absence well invested,
+	And every thing lies level to our wish:
+	Only, we want a little personal strength;
+	And pause us, till these rebels, now afoot,
+	Come underneath the yoke of government.
+
+WARWICK	Both which we doubt not but your majesty
+	Shall soon enjoy.
+
+KING HENRY IV	                  Humphrey, my son of Gloucester,
+	Where is the prince your brother?
+
+GLOUCESTER	I think he's gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor.
+
+KING HENRY IV	And how accompanied?
+
+GLOUCESTER	I do not know, my lord.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence, with him?
+
+GLOUCESTER	No, my good lord; he is in presence here.
+
+CLARENCE	What would my lord and father?
+
+KING HENRY IV	Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence.
+	How chance thou art not with the prince thy brother?
+	He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas;
+	Thou hast a better place in his affection
+	Than all thy brothers: cherish it, my boy,
+	And noble offices thou mayst effect
+	Of mediation, after I am dead,
+	Between his greatness and thy other brethren:
+	Therefore omit him not; blunt not his love,
+	Nor lose the good advantage of his grace
+	By seeming cold or careless of his will;
+	For he is gracious, if he be observed:
+	He hath a tear for pity and a hand
+	Open as day for melting charity:
+	Yet notwithstanding, being incensed, he's flint,
+	As humorous as winter and as sudden
+	As flaws congealed in the spring of day.
+	His temper, therefore, must be well observed:
+	Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,
+	When thou perceive his blood inclined to mirth;
+	But, being moody, give him line and scope,
+	Till that his passions, like a whale on ground,
+	Confound themselves with working. Learn this, Thomas,
+	And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends,
+	A hoop of gold to bind thy brothers in,
+	That the united vessel of their blood,
+	Mingled with venom of suggestion--
+	As, force perforce, the age will pour it in--
+	Shall never leak, though it do work as strong
+	As aconitum or rash gunpowder.
+
+CLARENCE	I shall observe him with all care and love.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Why art thou not at Windsor with him, Thomas?
+
+CLARENCE	He is not there to-day; he dines in London.
+
+KING HENRY IV	And how accompanied? canst thou tell that?
+
+CLARENCE	With Poins, and other his continual followers.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds;
+	And he, the noble image of my youth,
+	Is overspread with them: therefore my grief
+	Stretches itself beyond the hour of death:
+	The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape
+	In forms imaginary the unguided days
+	And rotten times that you shall look upon
+	When I am sleeping with my ancestors.
+	For when his headstrong riot hath no curb,
+	When rage and hot blood are his counsellors,
+	When means and lavish manners meet together,
+	O, with what wings shall his affections fly
+	Towards fronting peril and opposed decay!
+
+WARWICK	My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite:
+	The prince but studies his companions
+	Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the language,
+	'Tis needful that the most immodest word
+	Be look'd upon and learn'd; which once attain'd,
+	Your highness knows, comes to no further use
+	But to be known and hated. So, like gross terms,
+	The prince will in the perfectness of time
+	Cast off his followers; and their memory
+	Shall as a pattern or a measure live,
+	By which his grace must mete the lives of others,
+	Turning past evils to advantages.
+
+KING HENRY IV	'Tis seldom when the bee doth leave her comb
+	In the dead carrion.
+
+	[Enter WESTMORELAND]
+
+		Who's here? Westmoreland?
+
+WESTMORELAND	Health to my sovereign, and new happiness
+	Added to that that I am to deliver!
+	Prince John your son doth kiss your grace's hand:
+	Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Hastings and all
+	Are brought to the correction of your law;
+	There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath'd
+	But peace puts forth her olive every where.
+	The manner how this action hath been borne
+	Here at more leisure may your highness read,
+	With every course in his particular.
+
+KING HENRY IV	O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird,
+	Which ever in the haunch of winter sings
+	The lifting up of day.
+
+	[Enter HARCOURT]
+
+		 Look, here's more news.
+
+HARCOURT	From enemies heaven keep your majesty;
+	And, when they stand against you, may they fall
+	As those that I am come to tell you of!
+	The Earl Northumberland and the Lord Bardolph,
+	With a great power of English and of Scots
+	Are by the sheriff of Yorkshire overthrown:
+	The manner and true order of the fight
+	This packet, please it you, contains at large.
+
+KING HENRY IV	And wherefore should these good news make me sick?
+	Will fortune never come with both hands full,
+	But write her fair words still in foulest letters?
+	She either gives a stomach and no food;
+	Such are the poor, in health; or else a feast
+	And takes away the stomach; such are the rich,
+	That have abundance and enjoy it not.
+	I should rejoice now at this happy news;
+	And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy:
+	O me! come near me; now I am much ill.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Comfort, your majesty!
+
+CLARENCE	O my royal father!
+
+WESTMORELAND	My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up.
+
+WARWICK	Be patient, princes; you do know, these fits
+	Are with his highness very ordinary.
+	Stand from him. Give him air; he'll straight be well.
+
+CLARENCE	No, no, he cannot long hold out these pangs:
+	The incessant care and labour of his mind
+	Hath wrought the mure that should confine it in
+	So thin that life looks through and will break out.
+
+GLOUCESTER	The people fear me; for they do observe
+	Unfather'd heirs and loathly births of nature:
+	The seasons change their manners, as the year
+	Had found some months asleep and leap'd them over.
+
+CLARENCE	The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between;
+	And the old folk, time's doting chronicles,
+	Say it did so a little time before
+	That our great-grandsire, Edward, sick'd and died.
+
+WARWICK	Speak lower, princes, for the king recovers.
+
+GLOUCESTER	This apoplexy will certain be his end.
+
+KING HENRY IV	I pray you, take me up, and bear me hence
+	Into some other chamber: softly, pray.
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another chamber.
+
+
+	[KING HENRY IV lying on a bed: CLARENCE,
+	GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, and others in attendance]
+
+KING HENRY IV	Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends;
+	Unless some dull and favourable hand
+	Will whisper music to my weary spirit.
+
+WARWICK	Call for the music in the other room.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Set me the crown upon my pillow here.
+
+CLARENCE	His eye is hollow, and he changes much.
+
+WARWICK	Less noise, less noise!
+
+	[Enter PRINCE HENRY]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Who saw the Duke of Clarence?
+
+CLARENCE	I am here, brother, full of heaviness.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	How now! rain within doors, and none abroad!
+	How doth the king?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Exceeding ill.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	                  Heard he the good news yet?
+	Tell it him.
+
+GLOUCESTER	He alter'd much upon the hearing it.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	If he be sick with joy, he'll recover without physic.
+
+WARWICK	Not so much noise, my lords: sweet prince,
+	speak low;
+	The king your father is disposed to sleep.
+
+CLARENCE	Let us withdraw into the other room.
+
+WARWICK	Will't please your grace to go along with us?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	No; I will sit and watch here by the king.
+
+	[Exeunt all but PRINCE HENRY]
+
+	Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,
+	Being so troublesome a bedfellow?
+	O polish'd perturbation! golden care!
+	That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide
+	To many a watchful night! sleep with it now!
+	Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet
+	As he whose brow with homely biggen bound
+	Snores out the watch of night. O majesty!
+	When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit
+	Like a rich armour worn in heat of day,
+	That scalds with safety. By his gates of breath
+	There lies a downy feather which stirs not:
+	Did he suspire, that light and weightless down
+	Perforce must move. My gracious lord! my father!
+	This sleep is sound indeed, this is a sleep
+	That from this golden rigol hath divorced
+	So many English kings. Thy due from me
+	Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood,
+	Which nature, love, and filial tenderness,
+	Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously:
+	My due from thee is this imperial crown,
+	Which, as immediate as thy place and blood,
+	Derives itself to me. Lo, here it sits,
+	Which God shall guard: and put the world's whole strength
+	Into one giant arm, it shall not force
+	This lineal honour from me: this from thee
+	Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING HENRY IV	Warwick! Gloucester! Clarence!
+
+	[Re-enter WARWICK, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and the rest]
+
+CLARENCE	Doth the king call?
+
+WARWICK	What would your majesty? How fares your grace?
+
+KING HENRY IV	Why did you leave me here alone, my lords?
+
+CLARENCE	We left the prince my brother here, my liege,
+	Who undertook to sit and watch by you.
+
+KING HENRY IV	The Prince of Wales! Where is he? let me see him:
+	He is not here.
+
+WARWICK	This door is open; he is gone this way.
+
+GLOUCESTER	He came not through the chamber where we stay'd.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Where is the crown? who took it from my pillow?
+
+WARWICK	When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here.
+
+KING HENRY IV	The prince hath ta'en it hence: go, seek him out.
+	Is he so hasty that he doth suppose
+	My sleep my death?
+	Find him, my Lord of Warwick; chide him hither.
+
+	[Exit WARWICK]
+
+	This part of his conjoins with my disease,
+	And helps to end me. See, sons, what things you are!
+	How quickly nature falls into revolt
+	When gold becomes her object!
+	For this the foolish over-careful fathers
+	Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care,
+	Their bones with industry;
+	For this they have engrossed and piled up
+	The canker'd heaps of strange-achieved gold;
+	For this they have been thoughtful to invest
+	Their sons with arts and martial exercises:
+	When, like the bee, culling from every flower
+	The virtuous sweets,
+	Our thighs pack'd with wax, our mouths with honey,
+	We bring it to the hive, and, like the bees,
+	Are murdered for our pains. This bitter taste
+	Yield his engrossments to the ending father.
+
+	[Re-enter WARWICK]
+
+	Now, where is he that will not stay so long
+	Till his friend sickness hath determined me?
+
+WARWICK	My lord, I found the prince in the next room,
+	Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks,
+	With such a deep demeanor in great sorrow
+	That tyranny, which never quaff'd but blood,
+	Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife
+	With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.
+
+KING HENRY IV	But wherefore did he take away the crown?
+
+	[Re-enter PRINCE HENRY]
+
+	Lo, where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry.
+	Depart the chamber, leave us here alone.
+
+	[Exeunt WARWICK and the rest]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I never thought to hear you speak again.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought:
+	I stay too long by thee, I weary thee.
+	Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair
+	That thou wilt needs invest thee with my honours
+	Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth!
+	Thou seek'st the greatness that will o'erwhelm thee.
+	Stay but a little; for my cloud of dignity
+	Is held from falling with so weak a wind
+	That it will quickly drop: my day is dim.
+	Thou hast stolen that which after some few hours
+	Were thine without offence; and at my death
+	Thou hast seal'd up my expectation:
+	Thy life did manifest thou lovedst me not,
+	And thou wilt have me die assured of it.
+	Thou hidest a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
+	Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart,
+	To stab at half an hour of my life.
+	What! canst thou not forbear me half an hour?
+	Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
+	And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
+	That thou art crowned, not that I am dead.
+	Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse
+	Be drops of balm to sanctify thy head:
+	Only compound me with forgotten dust
+	Give that which gave thee life unto the worms.
+	Pluck down my officers, break my decrees;
+	For now a time is come to mock at form:
+	Harry the Fifth is crown'd: up, vanity!
+	Down, royal state! all you sage counsellors, hence!
+	And to the English court assemble now,
+	From every region, apes of idleness!
+	Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum:
+	Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance,
+	Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit
+	The oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
+	Be happy, he will trouble you no more;
+	England shall double gild his treble guilt,
+	England shall give him office, honour, might;
+	For the fifth Harry from curb'd licence plucks
+	The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog
+	Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent.
+	O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows!
+	When that my care could not withhold thy riots,
+	What wilt thou do when riot is thy care?
+	O, thou wilt be a wilderness again,
+	Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	O, pardon me, my liege! but for my tears,
+	The moist impediments unto my speech,
+	I had forestall'd this dear and deep rebuke
+	Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heard
+	The course of it so far. There is your crown;
+	And He that wears the crown immortally
+	Long guard it yours! If I affect it more
+	Than as your honour and as your renown,
+	Let me no more from this obedience rise,
+	Which my most inward true and duteous spirit
+	Teacheth, this prostrate and exterior bending.
+	God witness with me, when I here came in,
+	And found no course of breath within your majesty,
+	How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign,
+	O, let me in my present wildness die
+	And never live to show the incredulous world
+	The noble change that I have purposed!
+	Coming to look on you, thinking you dead,
+	And dead almost, my liege, to think you were,
+	I spake unto this crown as having sense,
+	And thus upbraided it: 'The care on thee depending
+	Hath fed upon the body of my father;
+	Therefore, thou best of gold art worst of gold:
+	Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,
+	Preserving life in medicine potable;
+	But thou, most fine, most honour'd: most renown'd,
+	Hast eat thy bearer up.' Thus, my most royal liege,
+	Accusing it, I put it on my head,
+	To try with it, as with an enemy
+	That had before my face murder'd my father,
+	The quarrel of a true inheritor.
+	But if it did infect my blood with joy,
+	Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride;
+	If any rebel or vain spirit of mine
+	Did with the least affection of a welcome
+	Give entertainment to the might of it,
+	Let God for ever keep it from my head
+	And make me as the poorest vassal is
+	That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!
+
+KING HENRY IV	O my son,
+	God put it in thy mind to take it hence,
+	That thou mightst win the more thy father's love,
+	Pleading so wisely in excuse of it!
+	Come hither, Harry, sit thou by my bed;
+	And hear, I think, the very latest counsel
+	That ever I shall breathe. God knows, my son,
+	By what by-paths and indirect crook'd ways
+	I met this crown; and I myself know well
+	How troublesome it sat upon my head.
+	To thee it shall descend with bitter quiet,
+	Better opinion, better confirmation;
+	For all the soil of the achievement goes
+	With me into the earth. It seem'd in me
+	But as an honour snatch'd with boisterous hand,
+	And I had many living to upbraid
+	My gain of it by their assistances;
+	Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed,
+	Wounding supposed peace: all these bold fears
+	Thou see'st with peril I have answered;
+	For all my reign hath been but as a scene
+	Acting that argument: and now my death
+	Changes the mode; for what in me was purchased,
+	Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort;
+	So thou the garland wear'st successively.
+	Yet, though thou stand'st more sure than I could do,
+	Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green;
+	And all my friends, which thou must make thy friends,
+	Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out;
+	By whose fell working I was first advanced
+	And by whose power I well might lodge a fear
+	To be again displaced: which to avoid,
+	I cut them off; and had a purpose now
+	To lead out many to the Holy Land,
+	Lest rest and lying still might make them look
+	Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry,
+	Be it thy course to busy giddy minds
+	With foreign quarrels; that action, hence borne out,
+	May waste the memory of the former days.
+	More would I, but my lungs are wasted so
+	That strength of speech is utterly denied me.
+	How I came by the crown, O God forgive;
+	And grant it may with thee in true peace live!
+
+PRINCE HENRY	My gracious liege,
+	You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me;
+	Then plain and right must my possession be:
+	Which I with more than with a common pain
+	'Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain.
+
+	[Enter Lord John of LANCASTER]
+
+KING HENRY IV	Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster.
+
+LANCASTER	Health, peace, and happiness to my royal father!
+
+KING HENRY IV	Thou bring'st me happiness and peace, son John;
+	But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown
+	From this bare wither'd trunk: upon thy sight
+	My worldly business makes a period.
+	Where is my Lord of Warwick?
+
+PRINCE HENRY	My Lord of Warwick!
+
+	[Enter WARWICK, and others]
+
+KING HENRY IV	Doth any name particular belong
+	Unto the lodging where I first did swoon?
+
+WARWICK	'Tis call'd Jerusalem, my noble lord.
+
+KING HENRY IV	Laud be to God! even there my life must end.
+	It hath been prophesied to me many years,
+	I should not die but in Jerusalem;
+	Which vainly I supposed the Holy Land:
+	But bear me to that chamber; there I'll lie;
+	In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Gloucestershire. SHALLOW'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter SHALLOW, FALSTAFF, BARDOLPH, and Page]
+
+SHALLOW	By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away to-night.
+	What, Davy, I say!
+
+FALSTAFF	You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow.
+
+SHALLOW	I will not excuse you; you shall not be excused;
+	excuses shall not be admitted; there is no excuse
+	shall serve; you shall not be excused. Why, Davy!
+
+	[Enter DAVY]
+
+DAVY	Here, sir.
+
+SHALLOW	Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see, Davy; let me
+	see, Davy; let me see: yea, marry, William cook,
+	bid him come hither. Sir John, you shall not be excused.
+
+DAVY	Marry, sir, thus; those precepts cannot be served:
+	and, again, sir, shall we sow the headland with wheat?
+
+SHALLOW	With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook: are
+	there no young pigeons?
+
+DAVY	Yes, sir. Here is now the smith's note for shoeing
+	and plough-irons.
+
+SHALLOW	Let it be cast and paid. Sir John, you shall not be excused.
+
+DAVY	Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must need be
+	had: and, sir, do you mean to stop any of William's
+	wages, about the sack he lost the other day at
+	Hinckley fair?
+
+SHALLOW	A' shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a couple
+	of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and any
+	pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook.
+
+DAVY	Doth the man of war stay all night, sir?
+
+SHALLOW	Yea, Davy. I will use him well: a friend i' the
+	court is better than a penny in purse. Use his men
+	well, Davy; for they are arrant knaves, and will backbite.
+
+DAVY	No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for they
+	have marvellous foul linen.
+
+SHALLOW	Well conceited, Davy: about thy business, Davy.
+
+DAVY	I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor of
+	Woncot against Clement Perkes of the hill.
+
+SHALLOW	There is many complaints, Davy, against that Visor:
+	that Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge.
+
+DAVY	I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir; but
+	yet, God forbid, sir, but a knave should have some
+	countenance at his friend's request. An honest
+	man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave
+	is not. I have served your worship truly, sir,
+	this eight years; and if I cannot once or twice in
+	a quarter bear out a knave against an honest man, I
+	have but a very little credit with your worship. The
+	knave is mine honest friend, sir; therefore, I
+	beseech your worship, let him be countenanced.
+
+SHALLOW	Go to; I say he shall have no wrong. Look about, Davy.
+
+	[Exit DAVY]
+
+	Where are you, Sir John? Come, come, come, off
+	with your boots. Give me your hand, Master Bardolph.
+
+BARDOLPH	I am glad to see your worship.
+
+SHALLOW	I thank thee with all my heart, kind
+	Master Bardolph: and welcome, my tall fellow.
+
+	[To the Page]
+
+	Come, Sir John.
+
+FALSTAFF	I'll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow.
+
+	[Exit SHALLOW]
+
+	Bardolph, look to our horses.
+
+	[Exeunt BARDOLPH and Page]
+
+	If I were sawed into quantities, I should make four
+	dozen of such bearded hermits' staves as Master
+	Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to see the
+	semblable coherence of his men's spirits and his:
+	they, by observing of him, do bear themselves like
+	foolish justices; he, by conversing with them, is
+	turned into a justice-like serving-man: their
+	spirits are so married in conjunction with the
+	participation of society that they flock together in
+	consent, like so many wild-geese. If I had a suit
+	to Master Shallow, I would humour his men with the
+	imputation of being near their master: if to his
+	men, I would curry with Master Shallow that no man
+	could better command his servants. It is certain
+	that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is
+	caught, as men take diseases, one of another:
+	therefore let men take heed of their company. I
+	will devise matter enough out of this Shallow to
+	keep Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing
+	out of six fashions, which is four terms, or two
+	actions, and a' shall laugh without intervallums. O,
+	it is much that a lie with a slight oath and a jest
+	with a sad brow will do with a fellow that never
+	had the ache in his shoulders! O, you shall see him
+	laugh till his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up!
+
+SHALLOW	[Within]  Sir John!
+
+FALSTAFF	I come, Master Shallow; I come, Master Shallow.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Westminster. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter WARWICK and the Lord Chief-Justice, meeting]
+
+WARWICK	How now, my lord chief-justice! whither away?
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	How doth the king?
+
+WARWICK	Exceeding well; his cares are now all ended.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	I hope, not dead.
+
+WARWICK	He's walk'd the way of nature;
+	And to our purposes he lives no more.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	I would his majesty had call'd me with him:
+	The service that I truly did his life
+	Hath left me open to all injuries.
+
+WARWICK	Indeed I think the young king loves you not.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	I know he doth not, and do arm myself
+	To welcome the condition of the time,
+	Which cannot look more hideously upon me
+	Than I have drawn it in my fantasy.
+
+	[Enter LANCASTER, CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER,
+	WESTMORELAND, and others]
+
+WARWICK	Here come the heavy issue of dead Harry:
+	O that the living Harry had the temper
+	Of him, the worst of these three gentlemen!
+	How many nobles then should hold their places
+	That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort!
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	O God, I fear all will be overturn'd!
+
+LANCASTER	Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow.
+
+
+GLOUCESTER	|
+	|  Good morrow, cousin.
+CLARENCE	|
+
+
+LANCASTER	We meet like men that had forgot to speak.
+
+WARWICK	We do remember; but our argument
+	Is all too heavy to admit much talk.
+
+LANCASTER	Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Peace be with us, lest we be heavier!
+
+GLOUCESTER	O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed;
+	And I dare swear you borrow not that face
+	Of seeming sorrow, it is sure your own.
+
+LANCASTER	Though no man be assured what grace to find,
+	You stand in coldest expectation:
+	I am the sorrier; would 'twere otherwise.
+
+CLARENCE	Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair;
+	Which swims against your stream of quality.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Sweet princes, what I did, I did in honour,
+	Led by the impartial conduct of my soul:
+	And never shall you see that I will beg
+	A ragged and forestall'd remission.
+	If truth and upright innocency fail me,
+	I'll to the king my master that is dead,
+	And tell him who hath sent me after him.
+
+WARWICK	Here comes the prince.
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY V, attended]
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Good morrow; and God save your majesty!
+
+KING HENRY V	This new and gorgeous garment, majesty,
+	Sits not so easy on me as you think.
+	Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear:
+	This is the English, not the Turkish court;
+	Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,
+	But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers,
+	For, by my faith, it very well becomes you:
+	Sorrow so royally in you appears
+	That I will deeply put the fashion on
+	And wear it in my heart: why then, be sad;
+	But entertain no more of it, good brothers,
+	Than a joint burden laid upon us all.
+	For me, by heaven, I bid you be assured,
+	I'll be your father and your brother too;
+	Let me but bear your love, I 'll bear your cares:
+	Yet weep that Harry's dead; and so will I;
+	But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears
+	By number into hours of happiness.
+
+Princes	We hope no other from your majesty.
+
+KING HENRY V	You all look strangely on me: and you most;
+	You are, I think, assured I love you not.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	I am assured, if I be measured rightly,
+	Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me.
+
+KING HENRY V	No!
+	How might a prince of my great hopes forget
+	So great indignities you laid upon me?
+	What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison
+	The immediate heir of England! Was this easy?
+	May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten?
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	I then did use the person of your father;
+	The image of his power lay then in me:
+	And, in the administration of his law,
+	Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
+	Your highness pleased to forget my place,
+	The majesty and power of law and justice,
+	The image of the king whom I presented,
+	And struck me in my very seat of judgment;
+	Whereon, as an offender to your father,
+	I gave bold way to my authority
+	And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
+	Be you contented, wearing now the garland,
+	To have a son set your decrees at nought,
+	To pluck down justice from your awful bench,
+	To trip the course of law and blunt the sword
+	That guards the peace and safety of your person;
+	Nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image
+	And mock your workings in a second body.
+	Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours;
+	Be now the father and propose a son,
+	Hear your own dignity so much profaned,
+	See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
+	Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd;
+	And then imagine me taking your part
+	And in your power soft silencing your son:
+	After this cold considerance, sentence me;
+	And, as you are a king, speak in your state
+	What I have done that misbecame my place,
+	My person, or my liege's sovereignty.
+
+KING HENRY V	You are right, justice, and you weigh this well;
+	Therefore still bear the balance and the sword:
+	And I do wish your honours may increase,
+	Till you do live to see a son of mine
+	Offend you and obey you, as I did.
+	So shall I live to speak my father's words:
+	'Happy am I, that have a man so bold,
+	That dares do justice on my proper son;
+	And not less happy, having such a son,
+	That would deliver up his greatness so
+	Into the hands of justice.' You did commit me:
+	For which, I do commit into your hand
+	The unstained sword that you have used to bear;
+	With this remembrance, that you use the same
+	With the like bold, just and impartial spirit
+	As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand.
+	You shall be as a father to my youth:
+	My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear,
+	And I will stoop and humble my intents
+	To your well-practised wise directions.
+	And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you;
+	My father is gone wild into his grave,
+	For in his tomb lie my affections;
+	And with his spirit sadly I survive,
+	To mock the expectation of the world,
+	To frustrate prophecies and to raze out
+	Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down
+	After my seeming. The tide of blood in me
+	Hath proudly flow'd in vanity till now:
+	Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea,
+	Where it shall mingle with the state of floods
+	And flow henceforth in formal majesty.
+	Now call we our high court of parliament:
+	And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel,
+	That the great body of our state may go
+	In equal rank with the best govern'd nation;
+	That war, or peace, or both at once, may be
+	As things acquainted and familiar to us;
+	In which you, father, shall have foremost hand.
+	Our coronation done, we will accite,
+	As I before remember'd, all our state:
+	And, God consigning to my good intents,
+	No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say,
+	God shorten Harry's happy life one day!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Gloucestershire. SHALLOW'S orchard.
+
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, DAVY, BARDOLPH,
+	and the Page]
+
+SHALLOW	Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an arbour,
+	we will eat a last year's pippin of my own graffing,
+	with a dish of caraways, and so forth: come,
+	cousin Silence: and then to bed.
+
+FALSTAFF	'Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.
+
+SHALLOW	Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all,
+	Sir John: marry, good air. Spread, Davy; spread,
+	Davy; well said, Davy.
+
+FALSTAFF	This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your
+	serving-man and your husband.
+
+SHALLOW	A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet,
+	Sir John: by the mass, I have drunk too much sack
+	at supper: a good varlet. Now sit down, now sit
+	down: come, cousin.
+
+SILENCE	Ah, sirrah! quoth-a, we shall
+	Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer,
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	And praise God for the merry year;
+	When flesh is cheap and females dear,
+	And lusty lads roam here and there
+	So merrily,
+	And ever among so merrily.
+
+FALSTAFF	There's a merry heart! Good Master Silence, I'll
+	give you a health for that anon.
+
+SHALLOW	Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy.
+
+DAVY	Sweet sir, sit; I'll be with you anon. most sweet
+	sir, sit. Master page, good master page, sit.
+	Proface! What you want in meat, we'll have in drink:
+	but you must bear; the heart's all.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SHALLOW	Be merry, Master Bardolph; and, my little soldier
+	there, be merry.
+
+SILENCE	Be merry, be merry, my wife has all;
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	For women are shrews, both short and tall:
+	'Tis merry in hall when beards wag all,
+	And welcome merry Shrove-tide.
+	Be merry, be merry.
+
+FALSTAFF	I did not think Master Silence had been a man of
+	this mettle.
+
+SILENCE	Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere now.
+
+	[Re-enter DAVY]
+
+DAVY	There's a dish of leather-coats for you.
+
+	[To BARDOLPH]
+
+SHALLOW	Davy!
+
+DAVY	Your worship! I'll be with you straight.
+
+	[To BARDOLPH]
+
+	A cup of wine, sir?
+
+SILENCE	A cup of wine that's brisk and fine,
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	And drink unto the leman mine;
+	And a merry heart lives long-a.
+
+FALSTAFF	Well said, Master Silence.
+
+SILENCE	An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet o' the night.
+
+FALSTAFF	Health and long life to you, Master Silence.
+
+SILENCE	Fill the cup, and let it come;
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom.
+
+SHALLOW	Honest Bardolph, welcome: if thou wantest any
+	thing, and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart.
+	Welcome, my little tiny thief.
+
+	[To the Page]
+
+	And welcome indeed too. I'll drink to Master
+	Bardolph, and to all the cavaleros about London.
+
+DAVY	I hove to see London once ere I die.
+
+BARDOLPH	An I might see you there, Davy,--
+
+SHALLOW	By the mass, you'll crack a quart together, ha!
+	Will you not, Master Bardolph?
+
+BARDOLPH	Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot.
+
+SHALLOW	By God's liggens, I thank thee: the knave will
+	stick by thee, I can assure thee that. A' will not
+	out; he is true bred.
+
+BARDOLPH	And I'll stick by him, sir.
+
+SHALLOW	Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing: be merry.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+	Look who's at door there, ho! who knocks?
+
+	[Exit DAVY]
+
+FALSTAFF	Why, now you have done me right.
+
+	[To SILENCE, seeing him take off a bumper]
+
+SILENCE	[Singing]
+
+	Do me right,
+	And dub me knight: Samingo.
+	Is't not so?
+
+FALSTAFF	'Tis so.
+
+SILENCE	Is't so? Why then, say an old man can do somewhat.
+
+	[Re-enter DAVY]
+
+DAVY	An't please your worship, there's one Pistol come
+	from the court with news.
+
+FALSTAFF	From the court! let him come in.
+
+	[Enter PISTOL]
+
+	How now, Pistol!
+
+PISTOL	Sir John, God save you!
+
+FALSTAFF	What wind blew you hither, Pistol?
+
+PISTOL	Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. Sweet
+	knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in this realm.
+
+SILENCE	By'r lady, I think a' be, but goodman Puff of Barson.
+
+PISTOL	Puff!
+	Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base!
+	Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend,
+	And helter-skelter have I rode to thee,
+	And tidings do I bring and lucky joys
+	And golden times and happy news of price.
+
+FALSTAFF	I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world.
+
+PISTOL	A foutre for the world and worldlings base!
+	I speak of Africa and golden joys.
+
+FALSTAFF	O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news?
+	Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.
+
+SILENCE	And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John.
+
+	[Singing]
+
+PISTOL	Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?
+	And shall good news be baffled?
+	Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap.
+
+SILENCE	Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.
+
+PISTOL	Why then, lament therefore.
+
+SHALLOW	Give me pardon, sir: if, sir, you come with news
+	from the court, I take it there's but two ways,
+	either to utter them, or to conceal them. I am,
+	sir, under the king, in some authority.
+
+PISTOL	Under which king, Besonian? speak, or die.
+
+SHALLOW	Under King Harry.
+
+PISTOL	                  Harry the Fourth? or Fifth?
+
+SHALLOW	Harry the Fourth.
+
+PISTOL	A foutre for thine office!
+	Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king;
+	Harry the Fifth's the man. I speak the truth:
+	When Pistol lies, do this; and fig me, like
+	The bragging Spaniard.
+
+FALSTAFF	What, is the old king dead?
+
+PISTOL	As nail in door: the things I speak are just.
+
+FALSTAFF	Away, Bardolph! saddle my horse. Master Robert
+	Shallow, choose what office thou wilt in the land,
+	'tis thine. Pistol, I will double-charge thee with dignities.
+
+BARDOLPH	O joyful day!
+	I would not take a knighthood for my fortune.
+
+PISTOL	What! I do bring good news.
+
+FALSTAFF	Carry Master Silence to bed. Master Shallow, my
+	Lord Shallow,--be what thou wilt; I am fortune's
+	steward--get on thy boots: we'll ride all night.
+	O sweet Pistol! Away, Bardolph!
+
+	[Exit BARDOLPH]
+
+	Come, Pistol, utter more to me; and withal devise
+	something to do thyself good. Boot, boot, Master
+	Shallow: I know the young king is sick for me. Let
+	us take any man's horses; the laws of England are at
+	my commandment. Blessed are they that have been my
+	friends; and woe to my lord chief-justice!
+
+PISTOL	Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also!
+	'Where is the life that late I led?' say they:
+	Why, here it is; welcome these pleasant days!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	London. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter Beadles, dragging in HOSTESS QUICKLY
+	and DOLL TEARSHEET]
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	No, thou arrant knave; I would to God that I might
+	die, that I might have thee hanged: thou hast
+	drawn my shoulder out of joint.
+
+First Beadle	The constables have delivered her over to me; and
+	she shall have whipping-cheer enough, I warrant
+	her: there hath been a man or two lately killed about her.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie. Come on; I 'll tell
+	thee what, thou damned tripe-visaged rascal, an
+	the child I now go with do miscarry, thou wert
+	better thou hadst struck thy mother, thou
+	paper-faced villain.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	O the Lord, that Sir John were come! he would make
+	this a bloody day to somebody. But I pray God the
+	fruit of her womb miscarry!
+
+First Beadle	If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions again;
+	you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you both go
+	with me; for the man is dead that you and Pistol
+	beat amongst you.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	I'll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I
+	will have you as soundly swinged for this,--you
+	blue-bottle rogue, you filthy famished correctioner,
+	if you be not swinged, I'll forswear half-kirtles.
+
+First Beadle	Come, come, you she knight-errant, come.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	O God, that right should thus overcome might!
+	Well, of sufferance comes ease.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a justice.
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Ay, come, you starved blood-hound.
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Goodman death, goodman bones!
+
+MISTRESS QUICKLY	Thou atomy, thou!
+
+DOLL TEARSHEET	Come, you thin thing; come you rascal.
+
+First Beadle	Very well.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	A public place near Westminster Abbey.
+
+
+	[Enter two Grooms, strewing rushes]
+
+First Groom	More rushes, more rushes.
+
+Second Groom	The trumpets have sounded twice.
+
+First Groom	'Twill be two o'clock ere they come from the
+	coronation: dispatch, dispatch.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, PISTOL,
+	BARDOLPH, and Page]
+
+FALSTAFF	Stand here by me, Master Robert Shallow; I will
+	make the king do you grace: I will leer upon him as
+	a' comes by; and do but mark the countenance that he
+	will give me.
+
+PISTOL	God bless thy lungs, good knight.
+
+FALSTAFF	Come here, Pistol; stand behind me. O, if I had had
+	time to have made new liveries, I would have
+	bestowed the thousand pound I borrowed of you. But
+	'tis no matter; this poor show doth better: this
+	doth infer the zeal I had to see him.
+
+SHALLOW	It doth so.
+
+FALSTAFF	It shows my earnestness of affection,--
+
+SHALLOW	It doth so.
+
+FALSTAFF	My devotion,--
+
+SHALLOW	It doth, it doth, it doth.
+
+FALSTAFF	As it were, to ride day and night; and not to
+	deliberate, not to remember, not to have patience
+	to shift me,--
+
+SHALLOW	It is best, certain.
+
+FALSTAFF	But to stand stained with travel, and sweating with
+	desire to see him; thinking of nothing else,
+	putting all affairs else in oblivion, as if there
+	were nothing else to be done but to see him.
+
+PISTOL	'Tis 'semper idem,' for 'obsque hoc nihil est:'
+	'tis all in every part.
+
+SHALLOW	'Tis so, indeed.
+
+PISTOL	My knight, I will inflame thy noble liver,
+	And make thee rage.
+	Thy Doll, and Helen of thy noble thoughts,
+	Is in base durance and contagious prison;
+	Haled thither
+	By most mechanical and dirty hand:
+	Rouse up revenge from ebon den with fell
+	Alecto's snake,
+	For Doll is in. Pistol speaks nought but truth.
+
+FALSTAFF	I will deliver her.
+
+	[Shouts within, and the trumpets sound]
+
+PISTOL	There roar'd the sea, and trumpet-clangor sounds.
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY V and his train, the Lord Chief-
+	Justice among them]
+
+FALSTAFF	God save thy grace, King Hal! my royal Hal!
+
+PISTOL	The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal imp of fame!
+
+FALSTAFF	God save thee, my sweet boy!
+
+KING HENRY IV	My lord chief-justice, speak to that vain man.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Have you your wits? know you what 'tis to speak?
+
+FALSTAFF	My king! my Jove! I speak to thee, my heart!
+
+KING HENRY IV	I know thee not, old man: fall to thy prayers;
+	How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!
+	I have long dream'd of such a kind of man,
+	So surfeit-swell'd, so old and so profane;
+	But, being awaked, I do despise my dream.
+	Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace;
+	Leave gormandizing; know the grave doth gape
+	For thee thrice wider than for other men.
+	Reply not to me with a fool-born jest:
+	Presume not that I am the thing I was;
+	For God doth know, so shall the world perceive,
+	That I have turn'd away my former self;
+	So will I those that kept me company.
+	When thou dost hear I am as I have been,
+	Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast,
+	The tutor and the feeder of my riots:
+	Till then, I banish thee, on pain of death,
+	As I have done the rest of my misleaders,
+	Not to come near our person by ten mile.
+	For competence of life I will allow you,
+	That lack of means enforce you not to evil:
+	And, as we hear you do reform yourselves,
+	We will, according to your strengths and qualities,
+	Give you advancement. Be it your charge, my lord,
+	To see perform'd the tenor of our word. Set on.
+
+	[Exeunt KING HENRY V, &c]
+
+FALSTAFF	Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound.
+
+SHALLOW	Yea, marry, Sir John; which I beseech you to let me
+	have home with me.
+
+FALSTAFF	That can hardly be, Master Shallow. Do not you
+	grieve at this; I shall be sent for in private to
+	him: look you, he must seem thus to the world:
+	fear not your advancements; I will be the man yet
+	that shall make you great.
+
+SHALLOW	I cannot well perceive how, unless you should give
+	me your doublet and stuff me out with straw. I
+	beseech you, good Sir John, let me have five hundred
+	of my thousand.
+
+FALSTAFF	Sir, I will be as good as my word: this that you
+	heard was but a colour.
+
+SHALLOW	A colour that I fear you will die in, Sir John.
+
+FALSTAFF	Fear no colours: go with me to dinner: come,
+	Lieutenant Pistol; come, Bardolph: I shall be sent
+	for soon at night.
+
+	[Re-enter Prince John of LANCASTER, the Lord
+	Chief-Justice; Officers with them]
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	Go, carry Sir John Falstaff to the Fleet:
+	Take all his company along with him.
+
+FALSTAFF	My lord, my lord,--
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	I cannot now speak: I will hear you soon.
+	Take them away.
+
+PISTOL	Si fortune me tormenta, spero contenta.
+
+	[Exeunt all but PRINCE JOHN and the Lord
+	Chief-Justice]
+
+LANCASTER	I like this fair proceeding of the king's:
+	He hath intent his wonted followers
+	Shall all be very well provided for;
+	But all are banish'd till their conversations
+	Appear more wise and modest to the world.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	And so they are.
+
+LANCASTER	The king hath call'd his parliament, my lord.
+
+Lord Chief-Justice	He hath.
+
+LANCASTER	I will lay odds that, ere this year expire,
+	We bear our civil swords and native fire
+	As far as France: I beard a bird so sing,
+	Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the king.
+	Come, will you hence?
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY IV
+
+	EPILOGUE
+
+
+	[Spoken by a Dancer]
+
+	First my fear; then my courtesy; last my speech.
+	My fear is, your displeasure; my courtesy, my duty;
+	and my speech, to beg your pardons. If you look
+	for a good speech now, you undo me: for what I have
+	to say is of mine own making; and what indeed I
+	should say will, I doubt, prove mine own marring.
+	But to the purpose, and so to the venture. Be it
+	known to you, as it is very well, I was lately here
+	in the end of a displeasing play, to pray your
+	patience for it and to promise you a better. I
+	meant indeed to pay you with this; which, if like an
+	ill venture it come unluckily home, I break, and
+	you, my gentle creditors, lose. Here I promised you
+	I would be and here I commit my body to your
+	mercies: bate me some and I will pay you some and,
+	as most debtors do, promise you infinitely.
+
+	If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me, will
+	you command me to use my legs? and yet that were but
+	light payment, to dance out of your debt. But a
+	good conscience will make any possible satisfaction,
+	and so would I. All the gentlewomen here have
+	forgiven me: if the gentlemen will not, then the
+	gentlemen do not agree with the gentlewomen, which
+	was never seen before in such an assembly.
+
+	One word more, I beseech you. If you be not too
+	much cloyed with fat meat, our humble author will
+	continue the story, with Sir John in it, and make
+	you merry with fair Katharine of France: where, for
+	any thing I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat,
+	unless already a' be killed with your hard
+	opinions; for Oldcastle died a martyr, and this is
+	not the man. My tongue is weary; when my legs are
+	too, I will bid you good night: and so kneel down
+	before you; but, indeed, to pray for the queen.
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+KING HENRY
+the Sixth	(KING HENRY VI:)
+
+HUMPHREY	Duke of Gloucester, his uncle. (GLOUCESTER:)
+
+CARDINAL BEAUFORT	Bishop of Winchester, great-uncle to the King.
+	(CARDINAL:)
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Duke of York. (YORK:)
+
+
+EDWARD	|
+	|  his sons
+RICHARD	|
+
+
+DUKE OF SOMERSET	(SOMERSET:)
+
+DUKE OF SUFFOLK	(SUFFOLK:)
+
+DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM	(BUCKINGHAM:)
+
+LORD CLIFFORD	(CLIFFORD:)
+
+YOUNG CLIFFORD	his son.
+
+EARL OF SALISBURY	(SALISBURY:)
+
+EARL OF WARWICK	(WARWICK:)
+
+LORD SCALES	(SCALES:)
+
+LORD SAY	(SAY:)
+
+SIR HUMPHREY
+STAFFORD	(SIR HUMPHREY:)
+
+WILLIAM STAFFORD	Sir Humphrey Stafford's brother.
+
+SIR JOHN STANLEY	(STANLEY:)
+
+VAUX:
+
+MATTHEW GOFFE:
+
+	A Sea-captain, (Captain:)  Master, and Master's-Mate.
+
+WALTER WHITMORE:
+
+	Two Gentlemen, prisoners with Suffolk.
+	(First Gentleman:)
+	(Second Gentleman:)
+
+
+JOHN HUME (HUME:)	|
+	|  priests.
+JOHN SOUTHWELL	|
+
+
+BOLINGBROKE	a conjurer.
+
+THOMAS HORNER	an armourer. (HORNER:)
+
+PETER	Thomas Horner's man.
+
+	Clerk of Chatham. (Clerk:)
+
+	Mayor of Saint Alban's. (Mayor:)
+
+SIMPCOX	an impostor.
+
+ALEXANDER IDEN	a Kentish gentleman. (IDEN:)
+
+JACK CADE	a rebel. (CADE:)
+
+
+GEORGE BEVIS	(BEVIS:)	|
+		|
+JOHN HOLLAND	(HOLLAND:)	|
+		|
+DICK the butcher	(DICK:)	|
+		|  followers of Cade.
+SMITH the weaver	(SMITH:)	|
+		|
+MICHAEL	(MICHAEL:)	|
+		|
+&c.		|
+
+
+	Two Murderers
+	(First Murderer:)
+	(Second Murderer:)
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Queen to King Henry.
+
+ELEANOR	Duchess of Gloucester. (DUCHESS:)
+
+MARGARET JOURDAIN	a witch.
+
+	Wife to Simpcox  (Wife:)
+
+	Lords, Ladies, and Attendants. Petitioners,
+	Aldermen, a Herald, a Beadle, Sheriff, and
+	Officers, Citizens, 'Prentices, Falconers,
+	Guards, Soldiers, Messengers, &c.
+	(First Neighbour:)
+	(Second Neighbour:)
+	(Third Neighbour:)
+	(First Petitioner:)
+	(Second Petitioner:)
+	(Herald:)
+	(Beadle:)
+	(Sheriff:)
+	(Servant:)
+	(Soldier:)
+	(Townsman:)
+	(First 'Prentice:)
+	(Second 'Prentice:)
+	(Post:)
+	(Messenger:)
+
+	A Spirit. (Spirit:)
+
+
+
+SCENE	England.
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Flourish of trumpets: then hautboys. Enter KING
+	HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and
+	CARDINAL, on the one side; QUEEN MARGARET, SUFFOLK,
+	YORK, SOMERSET, and BUCKINGHAM, on the other]
+
+SUFFOLK	As by your high imperial majesty
+	I had in charge at my depart for France,
+	As procurator to your excellence,
+	To marry Princess Margaret for your grace,
+	So, in the famous ancient city, Tours,
+	In presence of the Kings of France and Sicil,
+	The Dukes of Orleans, Calaber, Bretagne and Alencon,
+	Seven earls, twelve barons and twenty reverend bishops,
+	I have perform'd my task and was espoused:
+	And humbly now upon my bended knee,
+	In sight of England and her lordly peers,
+	Deliver up my title in the queen
+	To your most gracious hands, that are the substance
+	Of that great shadow I did represent;
+	The happiest gift that ever marquess gave,
+	The fairest queen that ever king received.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Suffolk, arise. Welcome, Queen Margaret:
+	I can express no kinder sign of love
+	Than this kind kiss. O Lord, that lends me life,
+	Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!
+	For thou hast given me in this beauteous face
+	A world of earthly blessings to my soul,
+	If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Great King of England and my gracious lord,
+	The mutual conference that my mind hath had,
+	By day, by night, waking and in my dreams,
+	In courtly company or at my beads,
+	With you, mine alder-liefest sovereign,
+	Makes me the bolder to salute my king
+	With ruder terms, such as my wit affords
+	And over-joy of heart doth minister.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Her sight did ravish; but her grace in speech,
+	Her words y-clad with wisdom's majesty,
+	Makes me from wondering fall to weeping joys;
+	Such is the fulness of my heart's content.
+	Lords, with one cheerful voice welcome my love.
+
+ALL	[Kneeling]  Long live Queen Margaret, England's
+	happiness!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	We thank you all.
+
+	[Flourish]
+
+SUFFOLK	My lord protector, so it please your grace,
+	Here are the articles of contracted peace
+	Between our sovereign and the French king Charles,
+	For eighteen months concluded by consent.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Reads]  'Imprimis, it is agreed between the French
+	king Charles, and William de la Pole, Marquess of
+	Suffolk, ambassador for Henry King of England, that
+	the said Henry shall espouse the Lady Margaret,
+	daughter unto Reignier King of Naples, Sicilia and
+	Jerusalem, and crown her Queen of England ere the
+	thirtieth of May next ensuing. Item, that the duchy
+	of Anjou and the county of Maine shall be released
+	and delivered to the king her father'--
+
+	[Lets the paper fall]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Uncle, how now!
+
+GLOUCESTER	       Pardon me, gracious lord;
+	Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart
+	And dimm'd mine eyes, that I can read no further.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Uncle of Winchester, I pray, read on.
+
+CARDINAL	[Reads]  'Item, It is further agreed between them,
+	that the duchies of Anjou and Maine shall be
+	released and delivered over to the king her father,
+	and she sent over of the King of England's own
+	proper cost and charges, without having any dowry.'
+
+KING HENRY VI	They please us well. Lord marquess, kneel down:
+	We here create thee the first duke of Suffolk,
+	And gird thee with the sword. Cousin of York,
+	We here discharge your grace from being regent
+	I' the parts of France, till term of eighteen months
+	Be full expired. Thanks, uncle Winchester,
+	Gloucester, York, Buckingham, Somerset,
+	Salisbury, and Warwick;
+	We thank you all for the great favour done,
+	In entertainment to my princely queen.
+	Come, let us in, and with all speed provide
+	To see her coronation be perform'd.
+
+	[Exeunt KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, and SUFFOLK]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Brave peers of England, pillars of the state,
+	To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief,
+	Your grief, the common grief of all the land.
+	What! did my brother Henry spend his youth,
+	His valour, coin and people, in the wars?
+	Did he so often lodge in open field,
+	In winter's cold and summer's parching heat,
+	To conquer France, his true inheritance?
+	And did my brother Bedford toil his wits,
+	To keep by policy what Henry got?
+	Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham,
+	Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick,
+	Received deep scars in France and Normandy?
+	Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself,
+	With all the learned council of the realm,
+	Studied so long, sat in the council-house
+	Early and late, debating to and fro
+	How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe,
+	And had his highness in his infancy
+	Crowned in Paris in despite of foes?
+	And shall these labours and these honours die?
+	Shall Henry's conquest, Bedford's vigilance,
+	Your deeds of war and all our counsel die?
+	O peers of England, shameful is this league!
+	Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame,
+	Blotting your names from books of memory,
+	Razing the characters of your renown,
+	Defacing monuments of conquer'd France,
+	Undoing all, as all had never been!
+
+CARDINAL	Nephew, what means this passionate discourse,
+	This peroration with such circumstance?
+	For France, 'tis ours; and we will keep it still.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ay, uncle, we will keep it, if we can;
+	But now it is impossible we should:
+	Suffolk, the new-made duke that rules the roast,
+	Hath given the duchy of Anjou and Maine
+	Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style
+	Agrees not with the leanness of his purse.
+
+SALISBURY	Now, by the death of Him that died for all,
+	These counties were the keys of Normandy.
+	But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant son?
+
+WARWICK	For grief that they are past recovery:
+	For, were there hope to conquer them again,
+	My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no tears.
+	Anjou and Maine! myself did win them both;
+	Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer:
+	And are the cities, that I got with wounds,
+	Delivered up again with peaceful words?
+	Mort Dieu!
+
+YORK	For Suffolk's duke, may he be suffocate,
+	That dims the honour of this warlike isle!
+	France should have torn and rent my very heart,
+	Before I would have yielded to this league.
+	I never read but England's kings have had
+	Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives:
+	And our King Henry gives away his own,
+	To match with her that brings no vantages.
+
+GLOUCESTER	A proper jest, and never heard before,
+	That Suffolk should demand a whole fifteenth
+	For costs and charges in transporting her!
+	She should have stayed in France and starved
+	in France, Before--
+
+CARDINAL	My Lord of Gloucester, now ye grow too hot:
+	It was the pleasure of my lord the King.
+
+GLOUCESTER	My Lord of Winchester, I know your mind;
+	'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike,
+	But 'tis my presence that doth trouble ye.
+	Rancour will out: proud prelate, in thy face
+	I see thy fury: if I longer stay,
+	We shall begin our ancient bickerings.
+	Lordings, farewell; and say, when I am gone,
+	I prophesied France will be lost ere long.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CARDINAL	So, there goes our protector in a rage.
+	'Tis known to you he is mine enemy,
+	Nay, more, an enemy unto you all,
+	And no great friend, I fear me, to the king.
+	Consider, lords, he is the next of blood,
+	And heir apparent to the English crown:
+	Had Henry got an empire by his marriage,
+	And all the wealthy kingdoms of the west,
+	There's reason he should be displeased at it.
+	Look to it, lords! let not his smoothing words
+	Bewitch your hearts; be wise and circumspect.
+	What though the common people favour him,
+	Calling him 'Humphrey, the good Duke of
+	Gloucester,'
+	Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voice,
+	'Jesu maintain your royal excellence!'
+	With 'God preserve the good Duke Humphrey!'
+	I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss,
+	He will be found a dangerous protector.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Why should he, then, protect our sovereign,
+	He being of age to govern of himself?
+	Cousin of Somerset, join you with me,
+	And all together, with the Duke of Suffolk,
+	We'll quickly hoise Duke Humphrey from his seat.
+
+CARDINAL	This weighty business will not brook delay:
+	I'll to the Duke of Suffolk presently.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SOMERSET	Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride
+	And greatness of his place be grief to us,
+	Yet let us watch the haughty cardinal:
+	His insolence is more intolerable
+	Than all the princes in the land beside:
+	If Gloucester be displaced, he'll be protector.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Or thou or I, Somerset, will be protector,
+	Despite Duke Humphrey or the cardinal.
+
+	[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and SOMERSET]
+
+SALISBURY	Pride went before, ambition follows him.
+	While these do labour for their own preferment,
+	Behoves it us to labour for the realm.
+	I never saw but Humphrey Duke of Gloucester
+	Did bear him like a noble gentleman.
+	Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal,
+	More like a soldier than a man o' the church,
+	As stout and proud as he were lord of all,
+	Swear like a ruffian and demean himself
+	Unlike the ruler of a commonweal.
+	Warwick, my son, the comfort of my age,
+	Thy deeds, thy plainness and thy housekeeping,
+	Hath won the greatest favour of the commons,
+	Excepting none but good Duke Humphrey:
+	And, brother York, thy acts in Ireland,
+	In bringing them to civil discipline,
+	Thy late exploits done in the heart of France,
+	When thou wert regent for our sovereign,
+	Have made thee fear'd and honour'd of the people:
+	Join we together, for the public good,
+	In what we can, to bridle and suppress
+	The pride of Suffolk and the cardinal,
+	With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition;
+	And, as we may, cherish Duke Humphrey's deeds,
+	While they do tend the profit of the land.
+
+WARWICK	So God help Warwick, as he loves the land,
+	And common profit of his country!
+
+YORK	[Aside]  And so says York, for he hath greatest cause.
+
+SALISBURY	Then let's make haste away, and look unto the main.
+
+WARWICK	Unto the main! O father, Maine is lost;
+	That Maine which by main force Warwick did win,
+	And would have kept so long as breath did last!
+	Main chance, father, you meant; but I meant Maine,
+	Which I will win from France, or else be slain,
+
+	[Exeunt WARWICK and SALISBURY]
+
+YORK	Anjou and Maine are given to the French;
+	Paris is lost; the state of Normandy
+	Stands on a tickle point, now they are gone:
+	Suffolk concluded on the articles,
+	The peers agreed, and Henry was well pleased
+	To change two dukedoms for a duke's fair daughter.
+	I cannot blame them all: what is't to them?
+	'Tis thine they give away, and not their own.
+	Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage
+	And purchase friends and give to courtezans,
+	Still revelling like lords till all be gone;
+	While as the silly owner of the goods
+	Weeps over them and wrings his hapless hands
+	And shakes his head and trembling stands aloof,
+	While all is shared and all is borne away,
+	Ready to starve and dare not touch his own:
+	So York must sit and fret and bite his tongue,
+	While his own lands are bargain'd for and sold.
+	Methinks the realms of England, France and Ireland
+	Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood
+	As did the fatal brand Althaea burn'd
+	Unto the prince's heart of Calydon.
+	Anjou and Maine both given unto the French!
+	Cold news for me, for I had hope of France,
+	Even as I have of fertile England's soil.
+	A day will come when York shall claim his own;
+	And therefore I will take the Nevils' parts
+	And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey,
+	And, when I spy advantage, claim the crown,
+	For that's the golden mark I seek to hit:
+	Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right,
+	Nor hold the sceptre in his childish fist,
+	Nor wear the diadem upon his head,
+	Whose church-like humours fits not for a crown.
+	Then, York, be still awhile, till time do serve:
+	Watch thou and wake when others be asleep,
+	To pry into the secrets of the state;
+	Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love,
+	With his new bride and England's dear-bought queen,
+	And Humphrey with the peers be fall'n at jars:
+	Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose,
+	With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed;
+	And in my standard bear the arms of York
+	To grapple with the house of Lancaster;
+	And, force perforce, I'll make him yield the crown,
+	Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	GLOUCESTER'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER and his DUCHESS]
+
+DUCHESS	Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd corn,
+	Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load?
+	Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows,
+	As frowning at the favours of the world?
+	Why are thine eyes fixed to the sullen earth,
+	Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight?
+	What seest thou there? King Henry's diadem,
+	Enchased with all the honours of the world?
+	If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face,
+	Until thy head be circled with the same.
+	Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold.
+	What, is't too short? I'll lengthen it with mine:
+	And, having both together heaved it up,
+	We'll both together lift our heads to heaven,
+	And never more abase our sight so low
+	As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground.
+
+GLOUCESTER	O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord,
+	Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts.
+	And may that thought, when I imagine ill
+	Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry,
+	Be my last breathing in this mortal world!
+	My troublous dream this night doth make me sad.
+
+DUCHESS	What dream'd my lord? tell me, and I'll requite it
+	With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Methought this staff, mine office-badge in court,
+	Was broke in twain; by whom I have forgot,
+	But, as I think, it was by the cardinal;
+	And on the pieces of the broken wand
+	Were placed the heads of Edmund Duke of Somerset,
+	And William de la Pole, first duke of Suffolk.
+	This was my dream: what it doth bode, God knows.
+
+DUCHESS	Tut, this was nothing but an argument
+	That he that breaks a stick of Gloucester's grove
+	Shall lose his head for his presumption.
+	But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke:
+	Methought I sat in seat of majesty
+	In the cathedral church of Westminster,
+	And in that chair where kings and queens are crown'd;
+	Where Henry and dame Margaret kneel'd to me
+	And on my head did set the diadem.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright:
+	Presumptuous dame, ill-nurtured Eleanor,
+	Art thou not second woman in the realm,
+	And the protector's wife, beloved of him?
+	Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command,
+	Above the reach or compass of thy thought?
+	And wilt thou still be hammering treachery,
+	To tumble down thy husband and thyself
+	From top of honour to disgrace's feet?
+	Away from me, and let me hear no more!
+
+DUCHESS	What, what, my lord! are you so choleric
+	With Eleanor, for telling but her dream?
+	Next time I'll keep my dreams unto myself,
+	And not be cheque'd.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Nay, be not angry; I am pleased again.
+
+	[Enter Messenger]
+
+Messenger	My lord protector, 'tis his highness' pleasure
+	You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban's,
+	Where as the king and queen do mean to hawk.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I go. Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us?
+
+DUCHESS	Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently.
+
+	[Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Messenger]
+
+	Follow I must; I cannot go before,
+	While Gloucester bears this base and humble mind.
+	Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood,
+	I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks
+	And smooth my way upon their headless necks;
+	And, being a woman, I will not be slack
+	To play my part in Fortune's pageant.
+	Where are you there? Sir John! nay, fear not, man,
+	We are alone; here's none but thee and I.
+
+	[Enter HUME]
+
+HUME	Jesus preserve your royal majesty!
+
+DUCHESS	What say'st thou? majesty! I am but grace.
+
+HUME	But, by the grace of God, and Hume's advice,
+	Your grace's title shall be multiplied.
+
+DUCHESS	What say'st thou, man? hast thou as yet conferr'd
+	With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch,
+	With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer?
+	And will they undertake to do me good?
+
+HUME	This they have promised, to show your highness
+	A spirit raised from depth of under-ground,
+	That shall make answer to such questions
+	As by your grace shall be propounded him.
+
+DUCHESS	It is enough; I'll think upon the questions:
+	When from St. Alban's we do make return,
+	We'll see these things effected to the full.
+	Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man,
+	With thy confederates in this weighty cause.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HUME	Hume must make merry with the duchess' gold;
+	Marry, and shall. But how now, Sir John Hume!
+	Seal up your lips, and give no words but mum:
+	The business asketh silent secrecy.
+	Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch:
+	Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil.
+	Yet have I gold flies from another coast;
+	I dare not say, from the rich cardinal
+	And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk,
+	Yet I do find it so; for to be plain,
+	They, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour,
+	Have hired me to undermine the duchess
+	And buz these conjurations in her brain.
+	They say 'A crafty knave does need no broker;'
+	Yet am I Suffolk and the cardinal's broker.
+	Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near
+	To call them both a pair of crafty knaves.
+	Well, so it stands; and thus, I fear, at last
+	Hume's knavery will be the duchess' wreck,
+	And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall:
+	Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter three or four Petitioners, PETER, the
+	Armourer's man, being one]
+
+First Petitioner	My masters, let's stand close: my lord protector
+	will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver
+	our supplications in the quill.
+
+Second Petitioner	Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good man!
+	Jesu bless him!
+
+	[Enter SUFFOLK and QUEEN MARGARET]
+
+PETER	Here a' comes, methinks, and the queen with him.
+	I'll be the first, sure.
+
+Second Petitioner	Come back, fool; this is the Duke of Suffolk, and
+	not my lord protector.
+
+SUFFOLK	How now, fellow! would'st anything with me?
+
+First Petitioner	I pray, my lord, pardon me; I took ye for my lord
+	protector.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	[Reading]  'To my Lord Protector!' Are your
+	supplications to his lordship? Let me see them:
+	what is thine?
+
+First Petitioner	Mine is, an't please your grace, against John
+	Goodman, my lord cardinal's man, for keeping my
+	house, and lands, and wife and all, from me.
+
+SUFFOLK	Thy wife, too! that's some wrong, indeed. What's
+	yours? What's here!
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'Against the Duke of Suffolk, for enclosing the
+	commons of Melford.' How now, sir knave!
+
+Second Petitioner	Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township.
+
+PETER	[Giving his petition]  Against my master, Thomas
+	Horner, for saying that the Duke of York was rightful
+	heir to the crown.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	What sayst thou? did the Duke of York say he was
+	rightful heir to the crown?
+
+PETER	That my master was? no, forsooth: my master said
+	that he was, and that the king was an usurper.
+
+SUFFOLK	Who is there?
+
+	[Enter Servant]
+
+	Take this fellow in, and send for
+	his master with a pursuivant presently: we'll hear
+	more of your matter before the King.
+
+	[Exit Servant with PETER]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	And as for you, that love to be protected
+	Under the wings of our protector's grace,
+	Begin your suits anew, and sue to him.
+
+	[Tears the supplication]
+
+	Away, base cullions! Suffolk, let them go.
+
+ALL	Come, let's be gone.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	My Lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise,
+	Is this the fashion in the court of England?
+	Is this the government of Britain's isle,
+	And this the royalty of Albion's king?
+	What shall King Henry be a pupil still
+	Under the surly Gloucester's governance?
+	Am I a queen in title and in style,
+	And must be made a subject to a duke?
+	I tell thee, Pole, when in the city Tours
+	Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my love
+	And stolest away the ladies' hearts of France,
+	I thought King Henry had resembled thee
+	In courage, courtship and proportion:
+	But all his mind is bent to holiness,
+	To number Ave-Maries on his beads;
+	His champions are the prophets and apostles,
+	His weapons holy saws of sacred writ,
+	His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves
+	Are brazen images of canonized saints.
+	I would the college of the cardinals
+	Would choose him pope, and carry him to Rome,
+	And set the triple crown upon his head:
+	That were a state fit for his holiness.
+
+SUFFOLK	Madam, be patient: as I was cause
+	Your highness came to England, so will I
+	In England work your grace's full content.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Beside the haughty protector, have we Beaufort,
+	The imperious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham,
+	And grumbling York: and not the least of these
+	But can do more in England than the king.
+
+SUFFOLK	And he of these that can do most of all
+	Cannot do more in England than the Nevils:
+	Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Not all these lords do vex me half so much
+	As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife.
+	She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies,
+	More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife:
+	Strangers in court do take her for the queen:
+	She bears a duke's revenues on her back,
+	And in her heart she scorns our poverty:
+	Shall I not live to be avenged on her?
+	Contemptuous base-born callet as she is,
+	She vaunted 'mongst her minions t'other day,
+	The very train of her worst wearing gown
+	Was better worth than all my father's lands,
+	Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter.
+
+SUFFOLK	Madam, myself have limed a bush for her,
+	And placed a quire of such enticing birds,
+	That she will light to listen to the lays,
+	And never mount to trouble you again.
+	So, let her rest: and, madam, list to me;
+	For I am bold to counsel you in this.
+	Although we fancy not the cardinal,
+	Yet must we join with him and with the lords,
+	Till we have brought Duke Humphrey in disgrace.
+	As for the Duke of York, this late complaint
+	Will make but little for his benefit.
+	So, one by one, we'll weed them all at last,
+	And you yourself shall steer the happy helm.
+
+	[Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER,
+	CARDINAL, BUCKINGHAM, YORK, SOMERSET, SALISBURY,
+	WARWICK, and the DUCHESS]
+
+KING HENRY VI	For my part, noble lords, I care not which;
+	Or Somerset or York, all's one to me.
+
+YORK	If York have ill demean'd himself in France,
+	Then let him be denay'd the regentship.
+
+SOMERSET	If Somerset be unworthy of the place,
+	Let York be regent; I will yield to him.
+
+WARWICK	Whether your grace be worthy, yea or no,
+	Dispute not that: York is the worthier.
+
+CARDINAL	Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak.
+
+WARWICK	The cardinal's not my better in the field.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	All in this presence are thy betters, Warwick.
+
+WARWICK	Warwick may live to be the best of all.
+
+SALISBURY	Peace, son! and show some reason, Buckingham,
+	Why Somerset should be preferred in this.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Because the king, forsooth, will have it so.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Madam, the king is old enough himself
+	To give his censure: these are no women's matters.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	If he be old enough, what needs your grace
+	To be protector of his excellence?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Madam, I am protector of the realm;
+	And, at his pleasure, will resign my place.
+
+SUFFOLK	Resign it then and leave thine insolence.
+	Since thou wert king--as who is king but thou?--
+	The commonwealth hath daily run to wreck;
+	The Dauphin hath prevail'd beyond the seas;
+	And all the peers and nobles of the realm
+	Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty.
+
+CARDINAL	The commons hast thou rack'd; the clergy's bags
+	Are lank and lean with thy extortions.
+
+SOMERSET	Thy sumptuous buildings and thy wife's attire
+	Have cost a mass of public treasury.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Thy cruelty in execution
+	Upon offenders, hath exceeded law,
+	And left thee to the mercy of the law.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	They sale of offices and towns in France,
+	If they were known, as the suspect is great,
+	Would make thee quickly hop without thy head.
+
+	[Exit GLOUCESTER. QUEEN MARGARET drops her fan]
+
+	Give me my fan: what, minion! can ye not?
+
+	[She gives the DUCHESS a box on the ear]
+
+	I cry you mercy, madam; was it you?
+
+DUCHESS	Was't I! yea, I it was, proud Frenchwoman:
+	Could I come near your beauty with my nails,
+	I'd set my ten commandments in your face.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Sweet aunt, be quiet; 'twas against her will.
+
+DUCHESS	Against her will! good king, look to't in time;
+	She'll hamper thee, and dandle thee like a baby:
+	Though in this place most master wear no breeches,
+	She shall not strike Dame Eleanor unrevenged.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Lord cardinal, I will follow Eleanor,
+	And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds:
+	She's tickled now; her fume needs no spurs,
+	She'll gallop far enough to her destruction.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter GLOUCESTER]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Now, lords, my choler being over-blown
+	With walking once about the quadrangle,
+	I come to talk of commonwealth affairs.
+	As for your spiteful false objections,
+	Prove them, and I lie open to the law:
+	But God in mercy so deal with my soul,
+	As I in duty love my king and country!
+	But, to the matter that we have in hand:
+	I say, my sovereign, York is meetest man
+	To be your regent in the realm of France.
+
+SUFFOLK	Before we make election, give me leave
+	To show some reason, of no little force,
+	That York is most unmeet of any man.
+
+YORK	I'll tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet:
+	First, for I cannot flatter thee in pride;
+	Next, if I be appointed for the place,
+	My Lord of Somerset will keep me here,
+	Without discharge, money, or furniture,
+	Till France be won into the Dauphin's hands:
+	Last time, I danced attendance on his will
+	Till Paris was besieged, famish'd, and lost.
+
+WARWICK	That can I witness; and a fouler fact
+	Did never traitor in the land commit.
+
+SUFFOLK	Peace, headstrong Warwick!
+
+WARWICK	Image of pride, why should I hold my peace?
+
+	[Enter HORNER, the Armourer, and his man
+	PETER, guarded]
+
+SUFFOLK	Because here is a man accused of treason:
+	Pray God the Duke of York excuse himself!
+
+YORK	Doth any one accuse York for a traitor?
+
+KING HENRY VI	What mean'st thou, Suffolk; tell me, what are these?
+
+SUFFOLK	Please it your majesty, this is the man
+	That doth accuse his master of high treason:
+	His words were these: that Richard, Duke of York,
+	Was rightful heir unto the English crown
+	And that your majesty was a usurper.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Say, man, were these thy words?
+
+HORNER	An't shall please your majesty, I never said nor
+	thought any such matter: God is my witness, I am
+	falsely accused by the villain.
+
+PETER	By these ten bones, my lords, he did speak them to
+	me in the garret one night, as we were scouring my
+	Lord of York's armour.
+
+YORK	Base dunghill villain and mechanical,
+	I'll have thy head for this thy traitor's speech.
+	I do beseech your royal majesty,
+	Let him have all the rigor of the law.
+
+HORNER	Alas, my lord, hang me, if ever I spake the words.
+	My accuser is my 'prentice; and when I did correct
+	him for his fault the other day, he did vow upon his
+	knees he would be even with me: I have good
+	witness of this: therefore I beseech your majesty,
+	do not cast away an honest man for a villain's
+	accusation.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Uncle, what shall we say to this in law?
+
+GLOUCESTER	This doom, my lord, if I may judge:
+	Let Somerset be regent over the French,
+	Because in York this breeds suspicion:
+	And let these have a day appointed them
+	For single combat in convenient place,
+	For he hath witness of his servant's malice:
+	This is the law, and this Duke Humphrey's doom.
+
+SOMERSET	I humbly thank your royal majesty.
+
+HORNER	And I accept the combat willingly.
+
+PETER	Alas, my lord, I cannot fight; for God's sake, pity
+	my case. The spite of man prevaileth against me. O
+	Lord, have mercy upon me! I shall never be able to
+	fight a blow. O Lord, my heart!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Sirrah, or you must fight, or else be hang'd.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Away with them to prison; and the day of combat
+	shall be the last of the next month. Come,
+	Somerset, we'll see thee sent away.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	GLOUCESTER's garden.
+
+
+	[Enter MARGARET JOURDAIN, HUME, SOUTHWELL, and
+	BOLINGBROKE]
+
+HUME	Come, my masters; the duchess, I tell you, expects
+	performance of your promises.
+
+BOLINGBROKE	Master Hume, we are therefore provided: will her
+	ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms?
+
+HUME	Ay, what else? fear you not her courage.
+
+BOLINGBROKE	I have heard her reported to be a woman of an
+	invincible spirit: but it shall be convenient,
+	Master Hume, that you be by her aloft, while we be
+	busy below; and so, I pray you, go, in God's name,
+	and leave us.
+
+	[Exit HUME]
+
+	Mother Jourdain, be you
+	prostrate and grovel on the earth; John Southwell,
+	read you; and let us to our work.
+
+	[Enter the DUCHESS aloft, HUME following]
+
+DUCHESS	Well said, my masters; and welcome all. To this
+	gear the sooner the better.
+
+BOLINGBROKE	Patience, good lady; wizards know their times:
+	Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night,
+	The time of night when Troy was set on fire;
+	The time when screech-owls cry and ban-dogs howl,
+	And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves,
+	That time best fits the work we have in hand.
+	Madam, sit you and fear not: whom we raise,
+	We will make fast within a hallow'd verge.
+
+	[Here they do the ceremonies belonging, and make the
+	circle; BOLINGBROKE or SOUTHWELL reads, Conjuro te,
+	&c. It thunders and lightens terribly; then the
+	Spirit riseth]
+
+Spirit	Adsum.
+
+MARGARET JOURDAIN	Asmath,
+	By the eternal God, whose name and power
+	Thou tremblest at, answer that I shall ask;
+	For, till thou speak, thou shalt not pass from hence.
+
+Spirit	Ask what thou wilt. That I had said and done!
+
+BOLINGBROKE	'First of the king: what shall of him become?'
+
+	[Reading out of a paper]
+
+Spirit	The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose;
+	But him outlive, and die a violent death.
+
+	[As the Spirit speaks, SOUTHWELL writes the answer]
+
+BOLINGBROKE	'What fates await the Duke of Suffolk?'
+
+Spirit	By water shall he die, and take his end.
+
+BOLINGBROKE	'What shall befall the Duke of Somerset?'
+
+Spirit	Let him shun castles;
+	Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains
+	Than where castles mounted stand.
+	Have done, for more I hardly can endure.
+
+BOLINGBROKE	Descend to darkness and the burning lake!
+	False fiend, avoid!
+
+	[Thunder and lightning. Exit Spirit]
+
+	[Enter YORK and BUCKINGHAM with their Guard
+	and break in]
+
+YORK	Lay hands upon these traitors and their trash.
+	Beldam, I think we watch'd you at an inch.
+	What, madam, are you there? the king and commonweal
+	Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains:
+	My lord protector will, I doubt it not,
+	See you well guerdon'd for these good deserts.
+
+DUCHESS	Not half so bad as thine to England's king,
+	Injurious duke, that threatest where's no cause.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	True, madam, none at all: what call you this?
+	Away with them! let them be clapp'd up close.
+	And kept asunder. You, madam, shall with us.
+	Stafford, take her to thee.
+
+	[Exeunt above DUCHESS and HUME, guarded]
+
+	We'll see your trinkets here all forthcoming.
+	All, away!
+
+	[Exeunt guard with MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, &c]
+
+YORK	Lord Buckingham, methinks, you watch'd her well:
+	A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon!
+	Now, pray, my lord, let's see the devil's writ.
+	What have we here?
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'The duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose;
+	But him outlive, and die a violent death.'
+	Why, this is just
+	'Aio te, AEacida, Romanos vincere posse.'
+	Well, to the rest:
+	'Tell me what fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk?
+	By water shall he die, and take his end.
+	What shall betide the Duke of Somerset?
+	Let him shun castles;
+	Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains
+	Than where castles mounted stand.'
+	Come, come, my lords;
+	These oracles are hardly attain'd,
+	And hardly understood.
+	The king is now in progress towards Saint Alban's,
+	With him the husband of this lovely lady:
+	Thither go these news, as fast as horse can
+	carry them:
+	A sorry breakfast for my lord protector.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Your grace shall give me leave, my Lord of York,
+	To be the post, in hope of his reward.
+
+YORK	At your pleasure, my good lord. Who's within
+	there, ho!
+
+	[Enter a Servingman]
+
+	Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick
+	To sup with me to-morrow night. Away!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Saint Alban's.
+
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOUCESTER,
+	CARDINAL, and SUFFOLK, with Falconers halloing]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Believe me, lords, for flying at the brook,
+	I saw not better sport these seven years' day:
+	Yet, by your leave, the wind was very high;
+	And, ten to one, old Joan had not gone out.
+
+KING HENRY VI	But what a point, my lord, your falcon made,
+	And what a pitch she flew above the rest!
+	To see how God in all his creatures works!
+	Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high.
+
+SUFFOLK	No marvel, an it like your majesty,
+	My lord protector's hawks do tower so well;
+	They know their master loves to be aloft,
+	And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch.
+
+GLOUCESTER	My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind
+	That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.
+
+CARDINAL	I thought as much; he would be above the clouds.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ay, my lord cardinal? how think you by that?
+	Were it not good your grace could fly to heaven?
+
+KING HENRY VI	The treasury of everlasting joy.
+
+CARDINAL	Thy heaven is on earth; thine eyes and thoughts
+	Beat on a crown, the treasure of thy heart;
+	Pernicious protector, dangerous peer,
+	That smooth'st it so with king and commonweal!
+
+GLOUCESTER	What, cardinal, is your priesthood grown peremptory?
+	Tantaene animis coelestibus irae?
+	Churchmen so hot? good uncle, hide such malice;
+	With such holiness can you do it?
+
+SUFFOLK	No malice, sir; no more than well becomes
+	So good a quarrel and so bad a peer.
+
+GLOUCESTER	As who, my lord?
+
+SUFFOLK	       Why, as you, my lord,
+	An't like your lordly lord-protectorship.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	And thy ambition, Gloucester.
+
+KING HENRY VI	I prithee, peace, good queen,
+	And whet not on these furious peers;
+	For blessed are the peacemakers on earth.
+
+CARDINAL	Let me be blessed for the peace I make,
+	Against this proud protector, with my sword!
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CARDINAL]  Faith, holy uncle, would
+	'twere come to that!
+
+CARDINAL	[Aside to GLOUCESTER]  Marry, when thou darest.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CARDINAL]  Make up no factious
+	numbers for the matter;
+	In thine own person answer thy abuse.
+
+CARDINAL	[Aside to GLOUCESTER]  Ay, where thou darest
+	not peep: an if thou darest,
+	This evening, on the east side of the grove.
+
+KING HENRY VI	How now, my lords!
+
+CARDINAL	       Believe me, cousin Gloucester,
+	Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly,
+	We had had more sport.
+
+	[Aside to GLOUCESTER]
+
+		 Come with thy two-hand sword.
+
+GLOUCESTER	True, uncle.
+
+CARDINAL	[Aside to GLOUCESTER]  Are ye advised? the
+	east side of the grove?
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CARDINAL]  Cardinal, I am with you.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Why, how now, uncle Gloucester!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Talking of hawking; nothing else, my lord.
+
+	[Aside to CARDINAL]
+
+	Now, by God's mother, priest, I'll shave your crown for this,
+	Or all my fence shall fail.
+
+CARDINAL	[Aside to GLOUCESTER]  Medice, teipsum--
+	Protector, see to't well, protect yourself.
+
+KING HENRY VI	The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords.
+	How irksome is this music to my heart!
+	When such strings jar, what hope of harmony?
+	I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife.
+
+	[Enter a Townsman of Saint Alban's, crying 'A miracle!']
+
+GLOUCESTER	What means this noise?
+	Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim?
+
+Townsman	A miracle! a miracle!
+
+SUFFOLK	Come to the king and tell him what miracle.
+
+Townsman	Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Alban's shrine,
+	Within this half-hour, hath received his sight;
+	A man that ne'er saw in his life before.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Now, God be praised, that to believing souls
+	Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair!
+
+	[Enter the Mayor of Saint Alban's and his
+	brethren, bearing SIMPCOX, between two in a
+	chair, SIMPCOX's Wife following]
+
+CARDINAL	Here comes the townsmen on procession,
+	To present your highness with the man.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Great is his comfort in this earthly vale,
+	Although by his sight his sin be multiplied.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Stand by, my masters: bring him near the king;
+	His highness' pleasure is to talk with him.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance,
+	That we for thee may glorify the Lord.
+	What, hast thou been long blind and now restored?
+
+SIMPCOX	Born blind, an't please your grace.
+
+Wife	Ay, indeed, was he.
+
+SUFFOLK	What woman is this?
+
+Wife	His wife, an't like your worship.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Hadst thou been his mother, thou couldst have
+	better told.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Where wert thou born?
+
+SIMPCOX	At Berwick in the north, an't like your grace.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Poor soul, God's goodness hath been great to thee:
+	Let never day nor night unhallow'd pass,
+	But still remember what the Lord hath done.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Tell me, good fellow, camest thou here by chance,
+	Or of devotion, to this holy shrine?
+
+SIMPCOX	God knows, of pure devotion; being call'd
+	A hundred times and oftener, in my sleep,
+	By good Saint Alban; who said, 'Simpcox, come,
+	Come, offer at my shrine, and I will help thee.'
+
+Wife	Most true, forsooth; and many time and oft
+	Myself have heard a voice to call him so.
+
+CARDINAL	What, art thou lame?
+
+SIMPCOX	Ay, God Almighty help me!
+
+SUFFOLK	How camest thou so?
+
+SIMPCOX	A fall off of a tree.
+
+Wife	A plum-tree, master.
+
+GLOUCESTER	How long hast thou been blind?
+
+SIMPCOX	Born so, master.
+
+GLOUCESTER	       What, and wouldst climb a tree?
+
+SIMPCOX	But that in all my life, when I was a youth.
+
+Wife	Too true; and bought his climbing very dear.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Mass, thou lovedst plums well, that wouldst
+	venture so.
+
+SIMPCOX	Alas, good master, my wife desired some damsons,
+	And made me climb, with danger of my life.
+
+GLOUCESTER	A subtle knave! but yet it shall not serve.
+	Let me see thine eyes: wink now: now open them:
+	In my opinion yet thou seest not well.
+
+SIMPCOX	Yes, master, clear as day, I thank God and
+	Saint Alban.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Say'st thou me so? What colour is this cloak of?
+
+SIMPCOX	Red, master; red as blood.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Why, that's well said. What colour is my gown of?
+
+SIMPCOX	Black, forsooth: coal-black as jet.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Why, then, thou know'st what colour jet is of?
+
+SUFFOLK	And yet, I think, jet did he never see.
+
+GLOUCESTER	But cloaks and gowns, before this day, a many.
+
+Wife	Never, before this day, in all his life.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Tell me, sirrah, what's my name?
+
+SIMPCOX	Alas, master, I know not.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What's his name?
+
+SIMPCOX	I know not.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Nor his?
+
+SIMPCOX	No, indeed, master.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What's thine own name?
+
+SIMPCOX	Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Then, Saunder, sit there, the lyingest knave in
+	Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, thou
+	mightest as well have known all our names as thus to
+	name the several colours we do wear. Sight may
+	distinguish of colours, but suddenly to nominate them
+	all, it is impossible. My lords, Saint Alban here
+	hath done a miracle; and would ye not think his
+	cunning to be great, that could restore this cripple
+	to his legs again?
+
+SIMPCOX	O master, that you could!
+
+GLOUCESTER	My masters of Saint Alban's, have you not beadles in
+	your town, and things called whips?
+
+Mayor	Yes, my lord, if it please your grace.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Then send for one presently.
+
+Mayor	Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight.
+
+	[Exit an Attendant]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. Now, sirrah,
+	if you mean to save yourself from whipping, leap me
+	over this stool and run away.
+
+SIMPCOX	Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone:
+	You go about to torture me in vain.
+
+	[Enter a Beadle with whips]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Well, sir, we must have you find your legs. Sirrah
+	beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool.
+
+Beadle	I will, my lord. Come on, sirrah; off with your
+	doublet quickly.
+
+SIMPCOX	Alas, master, what shall I do? I am not able to stand.
+
+	[After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leaps over
+	the stool and runs away; and they follow and cry, 'A miracle!']
+
+KING HENRY VI	O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	It made me laugh to see the villain run.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Follow the knave; and take this drab away.
+
+Wife	Alas, sir, we did it for pure need.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Let them be whipped through every market-town, till
+	they come to Berwick, from whence they came.
+
+	[Exeunt Wife, Beadle, Mayor, &c]
+
+CARDINAL	Duke Humphrey has done a miracle to-day.
+
+SUFFOLK	True; made the lame to leap and fly away.
+
+GLOUCESTER	But you have done more miracles than I;
+	You made in a day, my lord, whole towns to fly.
+
+	[Enter BUCKINGHAM]
+
+KING HENRY VI	What tidings with our cousin Buckingham?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold.
+	A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent,
+	Under the countenance and confederacy
+	Of Lady Eleanor, the protector's wife,
+	The ringleader and head of all this rout,
+	Have practised dangerously against your state,
+	Dealing with witches and with conjurers:
+	Whom we have apprehended in the fact;
+	Raising up wicked spirits from under ground,
+	Demanding of King Henry's life and death,
+	And other of your highness' privy-council;
+	As more at large your grace shall understand.
+
+CARDINAL	[Aside to GLOUCESTER]  And so, my lord protector,
+	by this means
+	Your lady is forthcoming yet at London.
+	This news, I think, hath turn'd your weapon's edge;
+	'Tis like, my lord, you will not keep your hour.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ambitious churchman, leave to afflict my heart:
+	Sorrow and grief have vanquish'd all my powers;
+	And, vanquish'd as I am, I yield to thee,
+	Or to the meanest groom.
+
+KING HENRY VI	O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones,
+	Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Gloucester, see here the tainture of thy nest.
+	And look thyself be faultless, thou wert best.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Madam, for myself, to heaven I do appeal,
+	How I have loved my king and commonweal:
+	And, for my wife, I know not how it stands;
+	Sorry I am to hear what I have heard:
+	Noble she is, but if she have forgot
+	Honour and virtue and conversed with such
+	As, like to pitch, defile nobility,
+	I banish her my bed and company
+	And give her as a prey to law and shame,
+	That hath dishonour'd Gloucester's honest name.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Well, for this night we will repose us here:
+	To-morrow toward London back again,
+	To look into this business thoroughly
+	And call these foul offenders to their answers
+	And poise the cause in justice' equal scales,
+	Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	London. YORK'S garden.
+
+
+	[Enter YORK, SALISBURY, and WARWICK]
+
+YORK	Now, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick,
+	Our simple supper ended, give me leave
+	In this close walk to satisfy myself,
+	In craving your opinion of my title,
+	Which is infallible, to England's crown.
+
+SALISBURY	My lord, I long to hear it at full.
+
+WARWICK	Sweet York, begin: and if thy claim be good,
+	The Nevils are thy subjects to command.
+
+YORK	Then thus:
+	Edward the Third, my lords, had seven sons:
+	The first, Edward the Black Prince, Prince of Wales;
+	The second, William of Hatfield, and the third,
+	Lionel Duke of Clarence: next to whom
+	Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster;
+	The fifth was Edmund Langley, Duke of York;
+	The sixth was Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester;
+	William of Windsor was the seventh and last.
+	Edward the Black Prince died before his father
+	And left behind him Richard, his only son,
+	Who after Edward the Third's death reign'd as king;
+	Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster,
+	The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt,
+	Crown'd by the name of Henry the Fourth,
+	Seized on the realm, deposed the rightful king,
+	Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came,
+	And him to Pomfret; where, as all you know,
+	Harmless Richard was murder'd traitorously.
+
+WARWICK	Father, the duke hath told the truth:
+	Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown.
+
+YORK	Which now they hold by force and not by right;
+	For Richard, the first son's heir, being dead,
+	The issue of the next son should have reign'd.
+
+SALISBURY	But William of Hatfield died without an heir.
+
+YORK	The third son, Duke of Clarence, from whose line
+	I claimed the crown, had issue, Philippe, a daughter,
+	Who married Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March:
+	Edmund had issue, Roger Earl of March;
+	Roger had issue, Edmund, Anne and Eleanor.
+
+SALISBURY	This Edmund, in the reign of Bolingbroke,
+	As I have read, laid claim unto the crown;
+	And, but for Owen Glendower, had been king,
+	Who kept him in captivity till he died.
+	But to the rest.
+
+YORK	       His eldest sister, Anne,
+	My mother, being heir unto the crown
+	Married Richard Earl of Cambridge; who was son
+	To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third's fifth son.
+	By her I claim the kingdom: she was heir
+	To Roger Earl of March, who was the son
+	Of Edmund Mortimer, who married Philippe,
+	Sole daughter unto Lionel Duke of Clarence:
+	So, if the issue of the elder son
+	Succeed before the younger, I am king.
+
+WARWICK	What plain proceeding is more plain than this?
+	Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt,
+	The fourth son; York claims it from the third.
+	Till Lionel's issue fails, his should not reign:
+	It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee
+	And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock.
+	Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together;
+	And in this private plot be we the first
+	That shall salute our rightful sovereign
+	With honour of his birthright to the crown.
+
+BOTH	Long live our sovereign Richard, England's king!
+
+YORK	We thank you, lords. But I am not your king
+	Till I be crown'd and that my sword be stain'd
+	With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster;
+	And that's not suddenly to be perform'd,
+	But with advice and silent secrecy.
+	Do you as I do in these dangerous days:
+	Wink at the Duke of Suffolk's insolence,
+	At Beaufort's pride, at Somerset's ambition,
+	At Buckingham and all the crew of them,
+	Till they have snared the shepherd of the flock,
+	That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey:
+	'Tis that they seek, and they in seeking that
+	Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy.
+
+SALISBURY	My lord, break we off; we know your mind at full.
+
+WARWICK	My heart assures me that the Earl of Warwick
+	Shall one day make the Duke of York a king.
+
+YORK	And, Nevil, this I do assure myself:
+	Richard shall live to make the Earl of Warwick
+	The greatest man in England but the king.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A hall of justice.
+
+
+	[Sound trumpets. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN
+	MARGARET, GLOUCESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, and SALISBURY;
+	the DUCHESS, MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, HUME,
+	and BOLINGBROKE, under guard]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester's wife:
+	In sight of God and us, your guilt is great:
+	Receive the sentence of the law for sins
+	Such as by God's book are adjudged to death.
+	You four, from hence to prison back again;
+	From thence unto the place of execution:
+	The witch in Smithfield shall be burn'd to ashes,
+	And you three shall be strangled on the gallows.
+	You, madam, for you are more nobly born,
+	Despoiled of your honour in your life,
+	Shall, after three days' open penance done,
+	Live in your country here in banishment,
+	With Sir John Stanley, in the Isle of Man.
+
+DUCHESS	Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Eleanor, the law, thou see'st, hath judged thee:
+	I cannot justify whom the law condemns.
+
+	[Exeunt DUCHESS and other prisoners, guarded]
+
+	Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief.
+	Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age
+	Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground!
+	I beseech your majesty, give me leave to go;
+	Sorrow would solace and mine age would ease.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Stay, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester: ere thou go,
+	Give up thy staff: Henry will to himself
+	Protector be; and God shall be my hope,
+	My stay, my guide and lantern to my feet:
+	And go in peace, Humphrey, no less beloved
+	Than when thou wert protector to thy King.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	I see no reason why a king of years
+	Should be to be protected like a child.
+	God and King Henry govern England's realm.
+	Give up your staff, sir, and the king his realm.
+
+GLOUCESTER	My staff? here, noble Henry, is my staff:
+	As willingly do I the same resign
+	As e'er thy father Henry made it mine;
+	And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it
+	As others would ambitiously receive it.
+	Farewell, good king: when I am dead and gone,
+	May honourable peace attend thy throne!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Why, now is Henry king, and Margaret queen;
+	And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester scarce himself,
+	That bears so shrewd a maim; two pulls at once;
+	His lady banish'd, and a limb lopp'd off.
+	This staff of honour raught, there let it stand
+	Where it best fits to be, in Henry's hand.
+
+SUFFOLK	Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays;
+	Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her youngest days.
+
+YORK	Lords, let him go. Please it your majesty,
+	This is the day appointed for the combat;
+	And ready are the appellant and defendant,
+	The armourer and his man, to enter the lists,
+	So please your highness to behold the fight.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore
+	Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried.
+
+KING HENRY VI	O God's name, see the lists and all things fit:
+	Here let them end it; and God defend the right!
+
+YORK	I never saw a fellow worse bested,
+	Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant,
+	The servant of this armourer, my lords.
+
+	[Enter at one door, HORNER, the Armourer, and his
+	Neighbours, drinking to him so much that he is drunk;
+	and he enters with a drum before him and his staff
+	with a sand-bag fastened to it; and at the other
+	door PETER, his man, with a drum and sand-bag, and
+	'Prentices drinking to him]
+
+First Neighbour	Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup of
+	sack: and fear not, neighbour, you shall do well enough.
+
+Second Neighbour	And here, neighbour, here's a cup of charneco.
+
+Third Neighbour	And here's a pot of good double beer, neighbour:
+	drink, and fear not your man.
+
+HORNER	Let it come, i' faith, and I'll pledge you all; and
+	a fig for Peter!
+
+First 'Prentice	Here, Peter, I drink to thee: and be not afraid.
+
+Second 'Prentice	Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master: fight
+	for credit of the 'prentices.
+
+PETER	I thank you all: drink, and pray for me, I pray
+	you; for I think I have taken my last draught in
+	this world. Here, Robin, an if I die, I give thee
+	my apron: and, Will, thou shalt have my hammer:
+	and here, Tom, take all the money that I have. O
+	Lord bless me! I pray God! for I am never able to
+	deal with my master, he hath learnt me so much fence already.
+
+SALISBURY	Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blows.
+	Sirrah, what's thy name?
+
+PETER	Peter, forsooth.
+
+SALISBURY	Peter! what more?
+
+PETER	Thump.
+
+SALISBURY	Thump! then see thou thump thy master well.
+
+HORNER	Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon my man's
+	instigation, to prove him a knave and myself an
+	honest man: and touching the Duke of York, I will
+	take my death, I never meant him any ill, nor the
+	king, nor the queen: and therefore, Peter, have at
+	thee with a downright blow!
+
+YORK	Dispatch: this knave's tongue begins to double.
+	Sound, trumpets, alarum to the combatants!
+
+	[Alarum. They fight, and PETER strikes him down]
+
+HORNER	Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+YORK	Take away his weapon. Fellow, thank God, and the
+	good wine in thy master's way.
+
+PETER	O God, have I overcome mine enemy in this presence?
+	O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right!
+
+KING HENRY VI	Go, take hence that traitor from our sight;
+	For his death we do perceive his guilt:
+	And God in justice hath revealed to us
+	The truth and innocence of this poor fellow,
+	Which he had thought to have murder'd wrongfully.
+	Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward.
+
+	[Sound a flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A street.
+
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER and his Servingmen, in
+	mourning cloaks]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud;
+	And after summer evermore succeeds
+	Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold:
+	So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
+	Sirs, what's o'clock?
+
+Servants	Ten, my lord.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ten is the hour that was appointed me
+	To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess:
+	Uneath may she endure the flinty streets,
+	To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.
+	Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook
+	The abject people gazing on thy face,
+	With envious looks, laughing at thy shame,
+	That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels
+	When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets.
+	But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll prepare
+	My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries.
+
+	[Enter the DUCHESS in a white sheet, and a taper
+	burning in her hand; with STANLEY, the Sheriff,
+	and Officers]
+
+Servant	So please your grace, we'll take her from the sheriff.
+
+GLOUCESTER	No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by.
+
+DUCHESS	Come you, my lord, to see my open shame?
+	Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze!
+	See how the giddy multitude do point,
+	And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee!
+	Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful looks,
+	And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame,
+	And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief.
+
+DUCHESS	Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself!
+	For whilst I think I am thy married wife
+	And thou a prince, protector of this land,
+	Methinks I should not thus be led along,
+	Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back,
+	And followed with a rabble that rejoice
+	To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans.
+	The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet,
+	And when I start, the envious people laugh
+	And bid me be advised how I tread.
+	Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke?
+	Trow'st thou that e'er I'll look upon the world,
+	Or count them happy that enjoy the sun?
+	No; dark shall be my light and night my day;
+	To think upon my pomp shall be my hell.
+	Sometime I'll say, I am Duke Humphrey's wife,
+	And he a prince and ruler of the land:
+	Yet so he ruled and such a prince he was
+	As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess,
+	Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock
+	To every idle rascal follower.
+	But be thou mild and blush not at my shame,
+	Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death
+	Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will;
+	For Suffolk, he that can do all in all
+	With her that hateth thee and hates us all,
+	And York and impious Beaufort, that false priest,
+	Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings,
+	And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee:
+	But fear not thou, until thy foot be snared,
+	Nor never seek prevention of thy foes.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ah, Nell, forbear! thou aimest all awry;
+	I must offend before I be attainted;
+	And had I twenty times so many foes,
+	And each of them had twenty times their power,
+	All these could not procure me any scathe,
+	So long as I am loyal, true and crimeless.
+	Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach?
+	Why, yet thy scandal were not wiped away
+	But I in danger for the breach of law.
+	Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell:
+	I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience;
+	These few days' wonder will be quickly worn.
+
+	[Enter a Herald]
+
+Herald	I summon your grace to his majesty's parliament,
+	Holden at Bury the first of this next month.
+
+GLOUCESTER	And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before!
+	This is close dealing. Well, I will be there.
+
+	[Exit Herald]
+
+	My Nell, I take my leave: and, master sheriff,
+	Let not her penance exceed the king's commission.
+
+Sheriff	An't please your grace, here my commission stays,
+	And Sir John Stanley is appointed now
+	To take her with him to the Isle of Man.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here?
+
+STANLEY	So am I given in charge, may't please your grace.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Entreat her not the worse in that I pray
+	You use her well: the world may laugh again;
+	And I may live to do you kindness if
+	You do it her: and so, Sir John, farewell!
+
+DUCHESS	What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak.
+
+	[Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Servingmen]
+
+DUCHESS	Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee!
+	For none abides with me: my joy is death;
+	Death, at whose name I oft have been afear'd,
+	Because I wish'd this world's eternity.
+	Stanley, I prithee, go, and take me hence;
+	I care not whither, for I beg no favour,
+	Only convey me where thou art commanded.
+
+STANLEY	Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man;
+	There to be used according to your state.
+
+DUCHESS	That's bad enough, for I am but reproach:
+	And shall I then be used reproachfully?
+
+STANLEY	Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphrey's lady;
+	According to that state you shall be used.
+
+DUCHESS	Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare,
+	Although thou hast been conduct of my shame.
+
+Sheriff	It is my office; and, madam, pardon me.
+
+DUCHESS	Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharged.
+	Come, Stanley, shall we go?
+
+STANLEY	Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet,
+	And go we to attire you for our journey.
+
+DUCHESS	My shame will not be shifted with my sheet:
+	No, it will hang upon my richest robes
+	And show itself, attire me how I can.
+	Go, lead the way; I long to see my prison.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The Abbey at Bury St. Edmund's.
+
+
+	[Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN
+	MARGARET, CARDINAL, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM,
+	SALISBURY and WARWICK to the Parliament]
+
+KING HENRY VI	I muse my Lord of Gloucester is not come:
+	'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man,
+	Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Can you not see? or will ye not observe
+	The strangeness of his alter'd countenance?
+	With what a majesty he bears himself,
+	How insolent of late he is become,
+	How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himself?
+	We know the time since he was mild and affable,
+	And if we did but glance a far-off look,
+	Immediately he was upon his knee,
+	That all the court admired him for submission:
+	But meet him now, and, be it in the morn,
+	When every one will give the time of day,
+	He knits his brow and shows an angry eye,
+	And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee,
+	Disdaining duty that to us belongs.
+	Small curs are not regarded when they grin;
+	But great men tremble when the lion roars;
+	And Humphrey is no little man in England.
+	First note that he is near you in descent,
+	And should you fall, he as the next will mount.
+	Me seemeth then it is no policy,
+	Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears
+	And his advantage following your decease,
+	That he should come about your royal person
+	Or be admitted to your highness' council.
+	By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts,
+	And when he please to make commotion,
+	'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him.
+	Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted;
+	Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden
+	And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.
+	The reverent care I bear unto my lord
+	Made me collect these dangers in the duke.
+	If it be fond, call it a woman's fear;
+	Which fear if better reasons can supplant,
+	I will subscribe and say I wrong'd the duke.
+	My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York,
+	Reprove my allegation, if you can;
+	Or else conclude my words effectual.
+
+SUFFOLK	Well hath your highness seen into this duke;
+	And, had I first been put to speak my mind,
+	I think I should have told your grace's tale.
+	The duchess, by his subornation,
+	Upon my life, began her devilish practises:
+	Or, if he were not privy to those faults,
+	Yet, by reputing of his high descent,
+	As next the king he was successive heir,
+	And such high vaunts of his nobility,
+	Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick duchess
+	By wicked means to frame our sovereign's fall.
+	Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep;
+	And in his simple show he harbours treason.
+	The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb.
+	No, no, my sovereign; Gloucester is a man
+	Unsounded yet and full of deep deceit.
+
+CARDINAL	Did he not, contrary to form of law,
+	Devise strange deaths for small offences done?
+
+YORK	And did he not, in his protectorship,
+	Levy great sums of money through the realm
+	For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it?
+	By means whereof the towns each day revolted.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Tut, these are petty faults to faults unknown.
+	Which time will bring to light in smooth
+	Duke Humphrey.
+
+KING HENRY VI	My lords, at once: the care you have of us,
+	To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot,
+	Is worthy praise: but, shall I speak my conscience,
+	Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent
+	From meaning treason to our royal person
+	As is the sucking lamb or harmless dove:
+	The duke is virtuous, mild and too well given
+	To dream on evil or to work my downfall.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance!
+	Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrowed,
+	For he's disposed as the hateful raven:
+	Is he a lamb? his skin is surely lent him,
+	For he's inclined as is the ravenous wolf.
+	Who cannot steal a shape that means deceit?
+	Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all
+	Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man.
+
+	[Enter SOMERSET]
+
+SOMERSET	All health unto my gracious sovereign!
+
+KING HENRY VI	Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France?
+
+SOMERSET	That all your interest in those territories
+	Is utterly bereft you; all is lost.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Cold news, Lord Somerset: but God's will be done!
+
+YORK	[Aside]  Cold news for me; for I had hope of France
+	As firmly as I hope for fertile England.
+	Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud
+	And caterpillars eat my leaves away;
+	But I will remedy this gear ere long,
+	Or sell my title for a glorious grave.
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER]
+
+GLOUCESTER	All happiness unto my lord the king!
+	Pardon, my liege, that I have stay'd so long.
+
+SUFFOLK	Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon,
+	Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art:
+	I do arrest thee of high treason here.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Well, Suffolk, thou shalt not see me blush
+	Nor change my countenance for this arrest:
+	A heart unspotted is not easily daunted.
+	The purest spring is not so free from mud
+	As I am clear from treason to my sovereign:
+	Who can accuse me? wherein am I guilty?
+
+YORK	'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France,
+	And, being protector, stayed the soldiers' pay;
+	By means whereof his highness hath lost France.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Is it but thought so? what are they that think it?
+	I never robb'd the soldiers of their pay,
+	Nor ever had one penny bribe from France.
+	So help me God, as I have watch'd the night,
+	Ay, night by night, in studying good for England,
+	That doit that e'er I wrested from the king,
+	Or any groat I hoarded to my use,
+	Be brought against me at my trial-day!
+	No; many a pound of mine own proper store,
+	Because I would not tax the needy commons,
+	Have I disbursed to the garrisons,
+	And never ask'd for restitution.
+
+CARDINAL	It serves you well, my lord, to say so much.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I say no more than truth, so help me God!
+
+YORK	In your protectorship you did devise
+	Strange tortures for offenders never heard of,
+	That England was defamed by tyranny.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Why, 'tis well known that, whiles I was
+	protector,
+	Pity was all the fault that was in me;
+	For I should melt at an offender's tears,
+	And lowly words were ransom for their fault.
+	Unless it were a bloody murderer,
+	Or foul felonious thief that fleeced poor passengers,
+	I never gave them condign punishment:
+	Murder indeed, that bloody sin, I tortured
+	Above the felon or what trespass else.
+
+SUFFOLK	My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answered:
+	But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge,
+	Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself.
+	I do arrest you in his highness' name;
+	And here commit you to my lord cardinal
+	To keep, until your further time of trial.
+
+KING HENRY VI	My lord of Gloucester, 'tis my special hope
+	That you will clear yourself from all suspect:
+	My conscience tells me you are innocent.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous:
+	Virtue is choked with foul ambition
+	And charity chased hence by rancour's hand;
+	Foul subornation is predominant
+	And equity exiled your highness' land.
+	I know their complot is to have my life,
+	And if my death might make this island happy,
+	And prove the period of their tyranny,
+	I would expend it with all willingness:
+	But mine is made the prologue to their play;
+	For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril,
+	Will not conclude their plotted tragedy.
+	Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice,
+	And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate;
+	Sharp Buckingham unburthens with his tongue
+	The envious load that lies upon his heart;
+	And dogged York, that reaches at the moon,
+	Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back,
+	By false accuse doth level at my life:
+	And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest,
+	Causeless have laid disgraces on my head,
+	And with your best endeavour have stirr'd up
+	My liefest liege to be mine enemy:
+	Ay, all you have laid your heads together--
+	Myself had notice of your conventicles--
+	And all to make away my guiltless life.
+	I shall not want false witness to condemn me,
+	Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt;
+	The ancient proverb will be well effected:
+	'A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.'
+
+CARDINAL	My liege, his railing is intolerable:
+	If those that care to keep your royal person
+	From treason's secret knife and traitors' rage
+	Be thus upbraided, chid and rated at,
+	And the offender granted scope of speech,
+	'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your grace.
+
+SUFFOLK	Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here
+	With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd,
+	As if she had suborned some to swear
+	False allegations to o'erthrow his state?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	But I can give the loser leave to chide.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Far truer spoke than meant: I lose, indeed;
+	Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false!
+	And well such losers may have leave to speak.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	He'll wrest the sense and hold us here all day:
+	Lord cardinal, he is your prisoner.
+
+CARDINAL	Sirs, take away the duke, and guard him sure.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ah! thus King Henry throws away his crutch
+	Before his legs be firm to bear his body.
+	Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side,
+	And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first.
+	Ah, that my fear were false! ah, that it were!
+	For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear.
+
+	[Exit, guarded]
+
+KING HENRY VI	My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best,
+	Do or undo, as if ourself were here.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	What, will your highness leave the parliament?
+
+KING HENRY VI	Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with grief,
+	Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes,
+	My body round engirt with misery,
+	For what's more miserable than discontent?
+	Ah, uncle Humphrey! in thy face I see
+	The map of honour, truth and loyalty:
+	And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come
+	That e'er I proved thee false or fear'd thy faith.
+	What louring star now envies thy estate,
+	That these great lords and Margaret our queen
+	Do seek subversion of thy harmless life?
+	Thou never didst them wrong, nor no man wrong;
+	And as the butcher takes away the calf
+	And binds the wretch, and beats it when it strays,
+	Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house,
+	Even so remorseless have they borne him hence;
+	And as the dam runs lowing up and down,
+	Looking the way her harmless young one went,
+	And can do nought but wail her darling's loss,
+	Even so myself bewails good Gloucester's case
+	With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimm'd eyes
+	Look after him and cannot do him good,
+	So mighty are his vowed enemies.
+	His fortunes I will weep; and, 'twixt each groan
+	Say 'Who's a traitor? Gloucester he is none.'
+
+	[Exeunt all but QUEEN MARGARET, CARDINAL,
+	SUFFOLK, and YORK; SOMERSET remains apart]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun's hot beams.
+	Henry my lord is cold in great affairs,
+	Too full of foolish pity, and Gloucester's show
+	Beguiles him as the mournful crocodile
+	With sorrow snares relenting passengers,
+	Or as the snake roll'd in a flowering bank,
+	With shining chequer'd slough, doth sting a child
+	That for the beauty thinks it excellent.
+	Believe me, lords, were none more wise than I--
+	And yet herein I judge mine own wit good--
+	This Gloucester should be quickly rid the world,
+	To rid us of the fear we have of him.
+
+CARDINAL	That he should die is worthy policy;
+	But yet we want a colour for his death:
+	'Tis meet he be condemn'd by course of law.
+
+SUFFOLK	But, in my mind, that were no policy:
+	The king will labour still to save his life,
+	The commons haply rise, to save his life;
+	And yet we have but trivial argument,
+	More than mistrust, that shows him worthy death.
+
+YORK	So that, by this, you would not have him die.
+
+SUFFOLK	Ah, York, no man alive so fain as I!
+
+YORK	'Tis York that hath more reason for his death.
+	But, my lord cardinal, and you, my Lord of Suffolk,
+	Say as you think, and speak it from your souls,
+	Were't not all one, an empty eagle were set
+	To guard the chicken from a hungry kite,
+	As place Duke Humphrey for the king's protector?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	So the poor chicken should be sure of death.
+
+SUFFOLK	Madam, 'tis true; and were't not madness, then,
+	To make the fox surveyor of the fold?
+	Who being accused a crafty murderer,
+	His guilt should be but idly posted over,
+	Because his purpose is not executed.
+	No; let him die, in that he is a fox,
+	By nature proved an enemy to the flock,
+	Before his chaps be stain'd with crimson blood,
+	As Humphrey, proved by reasons, to my liege.
+	And do not stand on quillets how to slay him:
+	Be it by gins, by snares, by subtlety,
+	Sleeping or waking, 'tis no matter how,
+	So he be dead; for that is good deceit
+	Which mates him first that first intends deceit.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Thrice-noble Suffolk, 'tis resolutely spoke.
+
+SUFFOLK	Not resolute, except so much were done;
+	For things are often spoke and seldom meant:
+	But that my heart accordeth with my tongue,
+	Seeing the deed is meritorious,
+	And to preserve my sovereign from his foe,
+	Say but the word, and I will be his priest.
+
+CARDINAL	But I would have him dead, my Lord of Suffolk,
+	Ere you can take due orders for a priest:
+	Say you consent and censure well the deed,
+	And I'll provide his executioner,
+	I tender so the safety of my liege.
+
+SUFFOLK	Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	And so say I.
+
+YORK	And I    and now we three have spoke it,
+	It skills not greatly who impugns our doom.
+
+	[Enter a Post]
+
+Post	Great lords, from Ireland am I come amain,
+	To signify that rebels there are up
+	And put the Englishmen unto the sword:
+	Send succors, lords, and stop the rage betime,
+	Before the wound do grow uncurable;
+	For, being green, there is great hope of help.
+
+CARDINAL	A breach that craves a quick expedient stop!
+	What counsel give you in this weighty cause?
+
+YORK	That Somerset be sent as regent thither:
+	'Tis meet that lucky ruler be employ'd;
+	Witness the fortune he hath had in France.
+
+SOMERSET	If York, with all his far-fet policy,
+	Had been the regent there instead of me,
+	He never would have stay'd in France so long.
+
+YORK	No, not to lose it all, as thou hast done:
+	I rather would have lost my life betimes
+	Than bring a burthen of dishonour home
+	By staying there so long till all were lost.
+	Show me one scar character'd on thy skin:
+	Men's flesh preserved so whole do seldom win.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Nay, then, this spark will prove a raging fire,
+	If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with:
+	No more, good York; sweet Somerset, be still:
+	Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there,
+	Might happily have proved far worse than his.
+
+YORK	What, worse than nought? nay, then, a shame take all!
+
+SOMERSET	And, in the number, thee that wishest shame!
+
+CARDINAL	My Lord of York, try what your fortune is.
+	The uncivil kerns of Ireland are in arms
+	And temper clay with blood of Englishmen:
+	To Ireland will you lead a band of men,
+	Collected choicely, from each county some,
+	And try your hap against the Irishmen?
+
+YORK	I will, my lord, so please his majesty.
+
+SUFFOLK	Why, our authority is his consent,
+	And what we do establish he confirms:
+	Then, noble York, take thou this task in hand.
+
+YORK	I am content: provide me soldiers, lords,
+	Whiles I take order for mine own affairs.
+
+SUFFOLK	A charge, Lord York, that I will see perform'd.
+	But now return we to the false Duke Humphrey.
+
+CARDINAL	No more of him; for I will deal with him
+	That henceforth he shall trouble us no more.
+	And so break off; the day is almost spent:
+	Lord Suffolk, you and I must talk of that event.
+
+YORK	My Lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days
+	At Bristol I expect my soldiers;
+	For there I'll ship them all for Ireland.
+
+SUFFOLK	I'll see it truly done, my Lord of York.
+
+	[Exeunt all but YORK]
+
+YORK	Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts,
+	And change misdoubt to resolution:
+	Be that thou hopest to be, or what thou art
+	Resign to death; it is not worth the enjoying:
+	Let pale-faced fear keep with the mean-born man,
+	And find no harbour in a royal heart.
+	Faster than spring-time showers comes thought
+	on thought,
+	And not a thought but thinks on dignity.
+	My brain more busy than the labouring spider
+	Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies.
+	Well, nobles, well, 'tis politicly done,
+	To send me packing with an host of men:
+	I fear me you but warm the starved snake,
+	Who, cherish'd in your breasts, will sting
+	your hearts.
+	'Twas men I lack'd and you will give them me:
+	I take it kindly; and yet be well assured
+	You put sharp weapons in a madman's hands.
+	Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mighty band,
+	I will stir up in England some black storm
+	Shall blow ten thousand souls to heaven or hell;
+	And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage
+	Until the golden circuit on my head,
+	Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams,
+	Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw.
+	And, for a minister of my intent,
+	I have seduced a headstrong Kentishman,
+	John Cade of Ashford,
+	To make commotion, as full well he can,
+	Under the title of John Mortimer.
+	In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade
+	Oppose himself against a troop of kerns,
+	And fought so long, till that his thighs with darts
+	Were almost like a sharp-quill'd porpentine;
+	And, in the end being rescued, I have seen
+	Him caper upright like a wild Morisco,
+	Shaking the bloody darts as he his bells.
+	Full often, like a shag-hair'd crafty kern,
+	Hath he conversed with the enemy,
+	And undiscover'd come to me again
+	And given me notice of their villanies.
+	This devil here shall be my substitute;
+	For that John Mortimer, which now is dead,
+	In face, in gait, in speech, he doth resemble:
+	By this I shall perceive the commons' mind,
+	How they affect the house and claim of York.
+	Say he be taken, rack'd and tortured,
+	I know no pain they can inflict upon him
+	Will make him say I moved him to those arms.
+	Say that he thrive, as 'tis great like he will,
+	Why, then from Ireland come I with my strength
+	And reap the harvest which that rascal sow'd;
+	For Humphrey being dead, as he shall be,
+	And Henry put apart, the next for me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Bury St. Edmund's. A room of state.
+
+
+	[Enter certain Murderers, hastily]
+
+First Murderer	Run to my Lord of Suffolk; let him know
+	We have dispatch'd the duke, as he commanded.
+
+Second Murderer	O that it were to do! What have we done?
+	Didst ever hear a man so penitent?
+
+	[Enter SUFFOLK]
+
+First Murder	Here comes my lord.
+
+SUFFOLK	Now, sirs, have you dispatch'd this thing?
+
+First Murderer	Ay, my good lord, he's dead.
+
+SUFFOLK	Why, that's well said. Go, get you to my house;
+	I will reward you for this venturous deed.
+	The king and all the peers are here at hand.
+	Have you laid fair the bed? Is all things well,
+	According as I gave directions?
+
+First Murderer	'Tis, my good lord.
+
+SUFFOLK	Away! be gone.
+
+	[Exeunt Murderers]
+
+	[Sound trumpets. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN
+	MARGARET, CARDINAL, SOMERSET, with Attendants]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Go, call our uncle to our presence straight;
+	Say we intend to try his grace to-day.
+	If he be guilty, as 'tis published.
+
+SUFFOLK	I'll call him presently, my noble lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Lords, take your places; and, I pray you all,
+	Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloucester
+	Than from true evidence of good esteem
+	He be approved in practise culpable.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	God forbid any malice should prevail,
+	That faultless may condemn a nobleman!
+	Pray God he may acquit him of suspicion!
+
+KING HENRY VI	I thank thee, Meg; these words content me much.
+
+	[Re-enter SUFFOLK]
+
+	How now! why look'st thou pale? why tremblest thou?
+	Where is our uncle? what's the matter, Suffolk?
+
+SUFFOLK	Dead in his bed, my lord; Gloucester is dead.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Marry, God forfend!
+
+CARDINAL	God's secret judgment: I did dream to-night
+	The duke was dumb and could not speak a word.
+
+	[KING HENRY VI swoons]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	How fares my lord? Help, lords! the king is dead.
+
+SOMERSET	Rear up his body; wring him by the nose.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Run, go, help, help! O Henry, ope thine eyes!
+
+SUFFOLK	He doth revive again: madam, be patient.
+
+KING HENRY VI	O heavenly God!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	How fares my gracious lord?
+
+SUFFOLK	Comfort, my sovereign! gracious Henry, comfort!
+
+KING HENRY VI	What, doth my Lord of Suffolk comfort me?
+	Came he right now to sing a raven's note,
+	Whose dismal tune bereft my vital powers;
+	And thinks he that the chirping of a wren,
+	By crying comfort from a hollow breast,
+	Can chase away the first-conceived sound?
+	Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words;
+	Lay not thy hands on me; forbear, I say;
+	Their touch affrights me as a serpent's sting.
+	Thou baleful messenger, out of my sight!
+	Upon thy eye-balls murderous tyranny
+	Sits in grim majesty, to fright the world.
+	Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding:
+	Yet do not go away: come, basilisk,
+	And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight;
+	For in the shade of death I shall find joy;
+	In life but double death, now Gloucester's dead.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolk thus?
+	Although the duke was enemy to him,
+	Yet he most Christian-like laments his death:
+	And for myself, foe as he was to me,
+	Might liquid tears or heart-offending groans
+	Or blood-consuming sighs recall his life,
+	I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans,
+	Look pale as primrose with blood-drinking sighs,
+	And all to have the noble duke alive.
+	What know I how the world may deem of me?
+	For it is known we were but hollow friends:
+	It may be judged I made the duke away;
+	So shall my name with slander's tongue be wounded,
+	And princes' courts be fill'd with my reproach.
+	This get I by his death: ay me, unhappy!
+	To be a queen, and crown'd with infamy!
+
+KING HENRY VI	Ah, woe is me for Gloucester, wretched man!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Be woe for me, more wretched than he is.
+	What, dost thou turn away and hide thy face?
+	I am no loathsome leper; look on me.
+	What! art thou, like the adder, waxen deaf?
+	Be poisonous too and kill thy forlorn queen.
+	Is all thy comfort shut in Gloucester's tomb?
+	Why, then, dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy.
+	Erect his statue and worship it,
+	And make my image but an alehouse sign.
+	Was I for this nigh wreck'd upon the sea
+	And twice by awkward wind from England's bank
+	Drove back again unto my native clime?
+	What boded this, but well forewarning wind
+	Did seem to say 'Seek not a scorpion's nest,
+	Nor set no footing on this unkind shore'?
+	What did I then, but cursed the gentle gusts
+	And he that loosed them forth their brazen caves:
+	And bid them blow towards England's blessed shore,
+	Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock
+	Yet AEolus would not be a murderer,
+	But left that hateful office unto thee:
+	The pretty-vaulting sea refused to drown me,
+	Knowing that thou wouldst have me drown'd on shore,
+	With tears as salt as sea, through thy unkindness:
+	The splitting rocks cower'd in the sinking sands
+	And would not dash me with their ragged sides,
+	Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they,
+	Might in thy palace perish Margaret.
+	As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs,
+	When from thy shore the tempest beat us back,
+	I stood upon the hatches in the storm,
+	And when the dusky sky began to rob
+	My earnest-gaping sight of thy land's view,
+	I took a costly jewel from my neck,
+	A heart it was, bound in with diamonds,
+	And threw it towards thy land: the sea received it,
+	And so I wish'd thy body might my heart:
+	And even with this I lost fair England's view
+	And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart
+	And call'd them blind and dusky spectacles,
+	For losing ken of Albion's wished coast.
+	How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue,
+	The agent of thy foul inconstancy,
+	To sit and witch me, as Ascanius did
+	When he to madding Dido would unfold
+	His father's acts commenced in burning Troy!
+	Am I not witch'd like her? or thou not false like him?
+	Ay me, I can no more! die, Margaret!
+	For Henry weeps that thou dost live so long.
+
+	[Noise within. Enter WARWICK, SALISBURY, and many Commons]
+
+WARWICK	It is reported, mighty sovereign,
+	That good Duke Humphrey traitorously is murder'd
+	By Suffolk and the Cardinal Beaufort's means.
+	The commons, like an angry hive of bees
+	That want their leader, scatter up and down
+	And care not who they sting in his revenge.
+	Myself have calm'd their spleenful mutiny,
+	Until they hear the order of his death.
+
+KING HENRY VI	That he is dead, good Warwick, 'tis too true;
+	But how he died God knows, not Henry:
+	Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse,
+	And comment then upon his sudden death.
+
+WARWICK	That shall I do, my liege. Stay, Salisbury,
+	With the rude multitude till I return.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING HENRY VI	O Thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts,
+	My thoughts, that labour to persuade my soul
+	Some violent hands were laid on Humphrey's life!
+	If my suspect be false, forgive me, God,
+	For judgment only doth belong to thee.
+	Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips
+	With twenty thousand kisses, and to drain
+	Upon his face an ocean of salt tears,
+	To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk,
+	And with my fingers feel his hand unfeeling:
+	But all in vain are these mean obsequies;
+	And to survey his dead and earthly image,
+	What were it but to make my sorrow greater?
+
+	[Re-enter WARWICK and others, bearing
+	GLOUCESTER'S body on a bed]
+
+WARWICK	Come hither, gracious sovereign, view this body.
+
+KING HENRY VI	That is to see how deep my grave is made;
+	For with his soul fled all my worldly solace,
+	For seeing him I see my life in death.
+
+WARWICK	As surely as my soul intends to live
+	With that dread King that took our state upon him
+	To free us from his father's wrathful curse,
+	I do believe that violent hands were laid
+	Upon the life of this thrice-famed duke.
+
+SUFFOLK	A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn tongue!
+	What instance gives Lord Warwick for his vow?
+
+WARWICK	See how the blood is settled in his face.
+	Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost,
+	Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale and bloodless,
+	Being all descended to the labouring heart;
+	Who, in the conflict that it holds with death,
+	Attracts the same for aidance 'gainst the enemy;
+	Which with the heart there cools and ne'er returneth
+	To blush and beautify the cheek again.
+	But see, his face is black and full of blood,
+	His eye-balls further out than when he lived,
+	Staring full ghastly like a strangled man;
+	His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretched with struggling;
+	His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd
+	And tugg'd for life and was by strength subdued:
+	Look, on the sheets his hair you see, is sticking;
+	His well-proportion'd beard made rough and rugged,
+	Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodged.
+	It cannot be but he was murder'd here;
+	The least of all these signs were probable.
+
+SUFFOLK	Why, Warwick, who should do the duke to death?
+	Myself and Beaufort had him in protection;
+	And we, I hope, sir, are no murderers.
+
+WARWICK	But both of you were vow'd Duke Humphrey's foes,
+	And you, forsooth, had the good duke to keep:
+	'Tis like you would not feast him like a friend;
+	And 'tis well seen he found an enemy.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Then you, belike, suspect these noblemen
+	As guilty of Duke Humphrey's timeless death.
+
+WARWICK	Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh
+	And sees fast by a butcher with an axe,
+	But will suspect 'twas he that made the slaughter?
+	Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest,
+	But may imagine how the bird was dead,
+	Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?
+	Even so suspicious is this tragedy.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Are you the butcher, Suffolk? Where's your knife?
+	Is Beaufort term'd a kite? Where are his talons?
+
+SUFFOLK	I wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men;
+	But here's a vengeful sword, rusted with ease,
+	That shall be scoured in his rancorous heart
+	That slanders me with murder's crimson badge.
+	Say, if thou darest, proud Lord of Warwick-shire,
+	That I am faulty in Duke Humphrey's death.
+
+	[Exeunt CARDINAL, SOMERSET, and others]
+
+WARWICK	What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	He dares not calm his contumelious spirit
+	Nor cease to be an arrogant controller,
+	Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times.
+
+WARWICK	Madam, be still; with reverence may I say;
+	For every word you speak in his behalf
+	Is slander to your royal dignity.
+
+SUFFOLK	Blunt-witted lord, ignoble in demeanor!
+	If ever lady wrong'd her lord so much,
+	Thy mother took into her blameful bed
+	Some stern untutor'd churl, and noble stock
+	Was graft with crab-tree slip; whose fruit thou art,
+	And never of the Nevils' noble race.
+
+WARWICK	But that the guilt of murder bucklers thee
+	And I should rob the deathsman of his fee,
+	Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,
+	And that my sovereign's presence makes me mild,
+	I would, false murderous coward, on thy knee
+	Make thee beg pardon for thy passed speech,
+	And say it was thy mother that thou meant'st
+	That thou thyself was born in bastardy;
+	And after all this fearful homage done,
+	Give thee thy hire and send thy soul to hell,
+	Pernicious blood-sucker of sleeping men!
+
+SUFFOLK	Thou shall be waking well I shed thy blood,
+	If from this presence thou darest go with me.
+
+WARWICK	Away even now, or I will drag thee hence:
+	Unworthy though thou art, I'll cope with thee
+	And do some service to Duke Humphrey's ghost.
+
+	[Exeunt SUFFOLK and WARWICK]
+
+KING HENRY VI	What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted!
+	Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just,
+	And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel
+	Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
+
+	[A noise within]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	What noise is this?
+
+	[Re-enter SUFFOLK and WARWICK, with their
+	weapons drawn]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Why, how now, lords! your wrathful weapons drawn
+	Here in our presence! dare you be so bold?
+	Why, what tumultuous clamour have we here?
+
+SUFFOLK	The traitorous Warwick with the men of Bury
+	Set all upon me, mighty sovereign.
+
+SALISBURY	[To the Commons, entering]  Sirs, stand apart;
+	the king shall know your mind.
+	Dread lord, the commons send you word by me,
+	Unless Lord Suffolk straight be done to death,
+	Or banished fair England's territories,
+	They will by violence tear him from your palace
+	And torture him with grievous lingering death.
+	They say, by him the good Duke Humphrey died;
+	They say, in him they fear your highness' death;
+	And mere instinct of love and loyalty,
+	Free from a stubborn opposite intent,
+	As being thought to contradict your liking,
+	Makes them thus forward in his banishment.
+	They say, in care of your most royal person,
+	That if your highness should intend to sleep
+	And charge that no man should disturb your rest
+	In pain of your dislike or pain of death,
+	Yet, notwithstanding such a strait edict,
+	Were there a serpent seen, with forked tongue,
+	That slily glided towards your majesty,
+	It were but necessary you were waked,
+	Lest, being suffer'd in that harmful slumber,
+	The mortal worm might make the sleep eternal;
+	And therefore do they cry, though you forbid,
+	That they will guard you, whether you will or no,
+	From such fell serpents as false Suffolk is,
+	With whose envenomed and fatal sting,
+	Your loving uncle, twenty times his worth,
+	They say, is shamefully bereft of life.
+
+Commons	[Within]  An answer from the king, my
+	Lord of Salisbury!
+
+SUFFOLK	'Tis like the commons, rude unpolish'd hinds,
+	Could send such message to their sovereign:
+	But you, my lord, were glad to be employ'd,
+	To show how quaint an orator you are:
+	But all the honour Salisbury hath won
+	Is, that he was the lord ambassador
+	Sent from a sort of tinkers to the king.
+
+Commons	[Within]  An answer from the king, or we will all break in!
+
+KING HENRY VI	Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me.
+	I thank them for their tender loving care;
+	And had I not been cited so by them,
+	Yet did I purpose as they do entreat;
+	For, sure, my thoughts do hourly prophesy
+	Mischance unto my state by Suffolk's means:
+	And therefore, by His majesty I swear,
+	Whose far unworthy deputy I am,
+	He shall not breathe infection in this air
+	But three days longer, on the pain of death.
+
+	[Exit SALISBURY]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	O Henry, let me plead for gentle Suffolk!
+
+KING HENRY VI	Ungentle queen, to call him gentle Suffolk!
+	No more, I say: if thou dost plead for him,
+	Thou wilt but add increase unto my wrath.
+	Had I but said, I would have kept my word,
+	But when I swear, it is irrevocable.
+	If, after three days' space, thou here be'st found
+	On any ground that I am ruler of,
+	The world shall not be ransom for thy life.
+	Come, Warwick, come, good Warwick, go with me;
+	I have great matters to impart to thee.
+
+	[Exeunt all but QUEEN MARGARET and SUFFOLK]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Mischance and sorrow go along with you!
+	Heart's discontent and sour affliction
+	Be playfellows to keep you company!
+	There's two of you; the devil make a third!
+	And threefold vengeance tend upon your steps!
+
+SUFFOLK	Cease, gentle queen, these execrations,
+	And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Fie, coward woman and soft-hearted wretch!
+	Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemy?
+
+SUFFOLK	A plague upon them! wherefore should I curse them?
+	Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan,
+	I would invent as bitter-searching terms,
+	As curst, as harsh and horrible to hear,
+	Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth,
+	With full as many signs of deadly hate,
+	As lean-faced Envy in her loathsome cave:
+	My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words;
+	Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint;
+	Mine hair be fixed on end, as one distract;
+	Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban:
+	And even now my burthen'd heart would break,
+	Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink!
+	Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste!
+	Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees!
+	Their chiefest prospect murdering basilisks!
+	Their softest touch as smart as lizards' sting!
+	Their music frightful as the serpent's hiss,
+	And boding screech-owls make the concert full!
+	All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell--
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Enough, sweet Suffolk; thou torment'st thyself;
+	And these dread curses, like the sun 'gainst glass,
+	Or like an overcharged gun, recoil,
+	And turn the force of them upon thyself.
+
+SUFFOLK	You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave?
+	Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from,
+	Well could I curse away a winter's night,
+	Though standing naked on a mountain top,
+	Where biting cold would never let grass grow,
+	And think it but a minute spent in sport.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	O, let me entreat thee cease. Give me thy hand,
+	That I may dew it with my mournful tears;
+	Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place,
+	To wash away my woful monuments.
+	O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand,
+	That thou mightst think upon these by the seal,
+	Through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for thee!
+	So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief;
+	'Tis but surmised whiles thou art standing by,
+	As one that surfeits thinking on a want.
+	I will repeal thee, or, be well assured,
+	Adventure to be banished myself:
+	And banished I am, if but from thee.
+	Go; speak not to me; even now be gone.
+	O, go not yet! Even thus two friends condemn'd
+	Embrace and kiss and take ten thousand leaves,
+	Loather a hundred times to part than die.
+	Yet now farewell; and farewell life with thee!
+
+SUFFOLK	Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished;
+	Once by the king, and three times thrice by thee.
+	'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence;
+	A wilderness is populous enough,
+	So Suffolk had thy heavenly company:
+	For where thou art, there is the world itself,
+	With every several pleasure in the world,
+	And where thou art not, desolation.
+	I can no more: live thou to joy thy life;
+	Myself no joy in nought but that thou livest.
+
+	[Enter VAUX]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Wither goes Vaux so fast? what news, I prithee?
+
+VAUX	To signify unto his majesty
+	That Cardinal Beaufort is at point of death;
+	For suddenly a grievous sickness took him,
+	That makes him gasp and stare and catch the air,
+	Blaspheming God and cursing men on earth.
+	Sometimes he talks as if Duke Humphrey's ghost
+	Were by his side; sometime he calls the king,
+	And whispers to his pillow, as to him,
+	The secrets of his overcharged soul;
+	And I am sent to tell his majesty
+	That even now he cries aloud for him.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Go tell this heavy message to the king.
+
+	[Exit VAUX]
+
+	Ay me! what is this world! what news are these!
+	But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor loss,
+	Omitting Suffolk's exile, my soul's treasure?
+	Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee,
+	And with the southern clouds contend in tears,
+	Theirs for the earth's increase, mine for my sorrows?
+	Now get thee hence: the king, thou know'st, is coming;
+	If thou be found by me, thou art but dead.
+
+SUFFOLK	If I depart from thee, I cannot live;
+	And in thy sight to die, what were it else
+	But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap?
+	Here could I breathe my soul into the air,
+	As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe
+	Dying with mother's dug between its lips:
+	Where, from thy sight, I should be raging mad,
+	And cry out for thee to close up mine eyes,
+	To have thee with thy lips to stop my mouth;
+	So shouldst thou either turn my flying soul,
+	Or I should breathe it so into thy body,
+	And then it lived in sweet Elysium.
+	To die by thee were but to die in jest;
+	From thee to die were torture more than death:
+	O, let me stay, befall what may befall!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Away! though parting be a fretful corrosive,
+	It is applied to a deathful wound.
+	To France, sweet Suffolk: let me hear from thee;
+	For wheresoe'er thou art in this world's globe,
+	I'll have an Iris that shall find thee out.
+
+SUFFOLK	I go.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	And take my heart with thee.
+
+SUFFOLK	A jewel, lock'd into the wofull'st cask
+	That ever did contain a thing of worth.
+	Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we
+	This way fall I to death.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	This way for me.
+
+	[Exeunt severally]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A bedchamber.
+
+
+	[Enter the KING, SALISBURY, WARWICK, to the
+	CARDINAL in bed]
+
+KING HENRY VI	How fares my lord? speak, Beaufort, to
+	thy sovereign.
+
+CARDINAL	If thou be'st death, I'll give thee England's treasure,
+	Enough to purchase such another island,
+	So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Ah, what a sign it is of evil life,
+	Where death's approach is seen so terrible!
+
+WARWICK	Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee.
+
+CARDINAL	Bring me unto my trial when you will.
+	Died he not in his bed? where should he die?
+	Can I make men live, whether they will or no?
+	O, torture me no more! I will confess.
+	Alive again? then show me where he is:
+	I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him.
+	He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them.
+	Comb down his hair; look, look! it stands upright,
+	Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul.
+	Give me some drink; and bid the apothecary
+	Bring the strong poison that I bought of him.
+
+KING HENRY VI	O thou eternal Mover of the heavens.
+	Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch!
+	O, beat away the busy meddling fiend
+	That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul.
+	And from his bosom purge this black despair!
+
+WARWICK	See, how the pangs of death do make him grin!
+
+SALISBURY	Disturb him not; let him pass peaceably.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be!
+	Lord cardinal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss,
+	Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.
+	He dies, and makes no sign. O God, forgive him!
+
+WARWICK	So bad a death argues a monstrous life.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.
+	Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close;
+	And let us all to meditation.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The coast of Kent.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Fight at sea. Ordnance goes off. Enter a
+	Captain, a Master, a Master's-mate, WALTER WHITMORE,
+	and others; with them SUFFOLK, and others, prisoners]
+
+Captain	The gaudy, blabbing and remorseful day
+	Is crept into the bosom of the sea;
+	And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades
+	That drag the tragic melancholy night;
+	Who, with their drowsy, slow and flagging wings,
+	Clip dead men's graves and from their misty jaws
+	Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.
+	Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize;
+	For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs,
+	Here shall they make their ransom on the sand,
+	Or with their blood stain this discolour'd shore.
+	Master, this prisoner freely give I thee;
+	And thou that art his mate, make boot of this;
+	The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.
+
+First Gentleman	What is my ransom, master? let me know.
+
+Master	A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.
+
+Master's-Mate	And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.
+
+Captain	What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,
+	And bear the name and port of gentlemen?
+	Cut both the villains' throats; for die you shall:
+	The lives of those which we have lost in fight
+	Be counterpoised with such a petty sum!
+
+First Gentleman	I'll give it, sir; and therefore spare my life.
+
+Second Gentleman	And so will I and write home for it straight.
+
+WHITMORE	I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,
+	And therefore to revenge it, shalt thou die;
+
+	[To SUFFOLK]
+
+	And so should these, if I might have my will.
+
+Captain	Be not so rash; take ransom, let him live.
+
+SUFFOLK	Look on my George; I am a gentleman:
+	Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.
+
+WHITMORE	And so am I; my name is Walter Whitmore.
+	How now! why start'st thou? what, doth
+	death affright?
+
+SUFFOLK	Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.
+	A cunning man did calculate my birth
+	And told me that by water I should die:
+	Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded;
+	Thy name is Gaultier, being rightly sounded.
+
+WHITMORE	Gaultier or Walter, which it is, I care not:
+	Never yet did base dishonour blur our name,
+	But with our sword we wiped away the blot;
+	Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge,
+	Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defaced,
+	And I proclaim'd a coward through the world!
+
+SUFFOLK	Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince,
+	The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.
+
+WHITMORE	The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags!
+
+SUFFOLK	Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke:
+	Jove sometimes went disguised, and why not I?
+
+Captain	But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be.
+
+SUFFOLK	Obscure and lowly swain, King Henry's blood,
+	The honourable blood of Lancaster,
+	Must not be shed by such a jaded groom.
+	Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand and held my stirrup?
+	Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth mule
+	And thought thee happy when I shook my head?
+	How often hast thou waited at my cup,
+	Fed from my trencher, kneel'd down at the board.
+	When I have feasted with Queen Margaret?
+	Remember it and let it make thee crest-fall'n,
+	Ay, and allay this thy abortive pride;
+	How in our voiding lobby hast thou stood
+	And duly waited for my coming forth?
+	This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf,
+	And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue.
+
+WHITMORE	Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain?
+
+Captain	First let my words stab him, as he hath me.
+
+SUFFOLK	Base slave, thy words are blunt and so art thou.
+
+Captain	Convey him hence and on our longboat's side
+	Strike off his head.
+
+SUFFOLK	Thou darest not, for thy own.
+
+Captain	Yes, Pole.
+
+SUFFOLK	       Pole!
+
+Captain	         Pool! Sir Pool! lord!
+	Ay, kennel, puddle, sink; whose filth and dirt
+	Troubles the silver spring where England drinks.
+	Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth
+	For swallowing the treasure of the realm:
+	Thy lips that kiss'd the queen shall sweep the ground;
+	And thou that smiledst at good Duke Humphrey's death,
+	Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain,
+	Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again:
+	And wedded be thou to the hags of hell,
+	For daring to affy a mighty lord
+	Unto the daughter of a worthless king,
+	Having neither subject, wealth, nor diadem.
+	By devilish policy art thou grown great,
+	And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorged
+	With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart.
+	By thee Anjou and Maine were sold to France,
+	The false revolting Normans thorough thee
+	Disdain to call us lord, and Picardy
+	Hath slain their governors, surprised our forts,
+	And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home.
+	The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all,
+	Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain,
+	As hating thee, are rising up in arms:
+	And now the house of York, thrust from the crown
+	By shameful murder of a guiltless king
+	And lofty proud encroaching tyranny,
+	Burns with revenging fire; whose hopeful colours
+	Advance our half-faced sun, striving to shine,
+	Under the which is writ 'Invitis nubibus.'
+	The commons here in Kent are up in arms:
+	And, to conclude, reproach and beggary
+	Is crept into the palace of our king.
+	And all by thee. Away! convey him hence.
+
+SUFFOLK	O that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder
+	Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges!
+	Small things make base men proud: this villain here,
+	Being captain of a pinnace, threatens more
+	Than Bargulus the strong Illyrian pirate.
+	Drones suck not eagles' blood but rob beehives:
+	It is impossible that I should die
+	By such a lowly vassal as thyself.
+	Thy words move rage and not remorse in me:
+	I go of message from the queen to France;
+	I charge thee waft me safely cross the Channel.
+
+Captain	Walter,--
+
+WHITMORE	Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.
+
+SUFFOLK	Gelidus timor occupat artus it is thee I fear.
+
+WHITMORE	Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee.
+	What, are ye daunted now? now will ye stoop?
+
+First Gentleman	My gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair.
+
+SUFFOLK	Suffolk's imperial tongue is stern and rough,
+	Used to command, untaught to plead for favour.
+	Far be it we should honour such as these
+	With humble suit: no, rather let my head
+	Stoop to the block than these knees bow to any
+	Save to the God of heaven and to my king;
+	And sooner dance upon a bloody pole
+	Than stand uncover'd to the vulgar groom.
+	True nobility is exempt from fear:
+	More can I bear than you dare execute.
+
+Captain	Hale him away, and let him talk no more.
+
+SUFFOLK	Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can,
+	That this my death may never be forgot!
+	Great men oft die by vile bezonians:
+	A Roman sworder and banditto slave
+	Murder'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand
+	Stabb'd Julius Caesar; savage islanders
+	Pompey the Great; and Suffolk dies by pirates.
+
+	[Exeunt Whitmore and others with Suffolk]
+
+Captain	And as for these whose ransom we have set,
+	It is our pleasure one of them depart;
+	Therefore come you with us and let him go.
+
+	[Exeunt all but the First Gentleman]
+
+	[Re-enter WHITMORE with SUFFOLK's body]
+
+WHITMORE	There let his head and lifeless body lie,
+	Until the queen his mistress bury it.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+First Gentleman	O barbarous and bloody spectacle!
+	His body will I bear unto the king:
+	If he revenge it not, yet will his friends;
+	So will the queen, that living held him dear.
+
+	[Exit with the body]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Blackheath.
+
+
+	[Enter GEORGE BEVIS and JOHN HOLLAND]
+
+BEVIS	Come, and get thee a sword, though made of a lath;
+	they have been up these two days.
+
+HOLLAND	They have the more need to sleep now, then.
+
+BEVIS	I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means to dress
+	the commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new nap upon it.
+
+HOLLAND	So he had need, for 'tis threadbare. Well, I say it
+	was never merry world in England since gentlemen came up.
+
+BEVIS	O miserable age! virtue is not regarded in handicrafts-men.
+
+HOLLAND	The nobility think scorn to go in leather aprons.
+
+BEVIS	Nay, more, the king's council are no good workmen.
+
+HOLLAND	True; and yet it is said, labour in thy vocation;
+	which is as much to say as, let the magistrates be
+	labouring men; and therefore should we be
+	magistrates.
+
+BEVIS	Thou hast hit it; for there's no better sign of a
+	brave mind than a hard hand.
+
+HOLLAND	I see them! I see them! there's Best's son, the
+	tanner of Wingham,--
+
+BEVIS	He shall have the skin of our enemies, to make
+	dog's-leather of.
+
+HOLLAND	And Dick the Butcher,--
+
+BEVIS	Then is sin struck down like an ox, and iniquity's
+	throat cut like a calf.
+
+HOLLAND	And Smith the weaver,--
+
+BEVIS	Argo, their thread of life is spun.
+
+HOLLAND	Come, come, let's fall in with them.
+
+	[Drum. Enter CADE, DICK the Butcher, SMITH the
+	Weaver, and a Sawyer, with infinite numbers]
+
+CADE	We John Cade, so termed of our supposed father,--
+
+DICK	[Aside]  Or rather, of stealing a cade of herrings.
+
+CADE	For our enemies shall fall before us, inspired with
+	the spirit of putting down kings and princes,
+	--Command silence.
+
+DICK	Silence!
+
+CADE	My father was a Mortimer,--
+
+DICK	[Aside]  He was an honest man, and a good
+	bricklayer.
+
+CADE	My mother a Plantagenet,--
+
+DICK	[Aside]  I knew her well; she was a midwife.
+
+CADE	My wife descended of the Lacies,--
+
+DICK	[Aside]  She was, indeed, a pedler's daughter, and
+	sold many laces.
+
+SMITH	[Aside]  But now of late, notable to travel with her
+	furred pack, she washes bucks here at home.
+
+CADE	Therefore am I of an honourable house.
+
+DICK	[Aside]  Ay, by my faith, the field is honourable;
+	and there was he borne, under a hedge, for his
+	father had never a house but the cage.
+
+CADE	Valiant I am.
+
+SMITH	[Aside]  A' must needs; for beggary is valiant.
+
+CADE	I am able to endure much.
+
+DICK	[Aside]  No question of that; for I have seen him
+	whipped three market-days together.
+
+CADE	I fear neither sword nor fire.
+
+SMITH	[Aside]  He need not fear the sword; for his coat is of proof.
+
+DICK	[Aside]  But methinks he should stand in fear of
+	fire, being burnt i' the hand for stealing of sheep.
+
+CADE	Be brave, then; for your captain is brave, and vows
+	reformation. There shall be in England seven
+	halfpenny loaves sold for a penny: the three-hooped
+	pot; shall have ten hoops and I will make it felony
+	to drink small beer: all the realm shall be in
+	common; and in Cheapside shall my palfrey go to
+	grass: and when I am king, as king I will be,--
+
+ALL	God save your majesty!
+
+CADE	I thank you, good people: there shall be no money;
+	all shall eat and drink on my score; and I will
+	apparel them all in one livery, that they may agree
+	like brothers and worship me their lord.
+
+DICK	The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.
+
+CADE	Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamentable
+	thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should
+	be made parchment? that parchment, being scribbled
+	o'er, should undo a man? Some say the bee stings:
+	but I say, 'tis the bee's wax; for I did but seal
+	once to a thing, and I was never mine own man
+	since. How now! who's there?
+
+	[Enter some, bringing forward the Clerk of Chatham]
+
+SMITH	The clerk of Chatham: he can write and read and
+	cast accompt.
+
+CADE	O monstrous!
+
+SMITH	We took him setting of boys' copies.
+
+CADE	Here's a villain!
+
+SMITH	Has a book in his pocket with red letters in't.
+
+CADE	Nay, then, he is a conjurer.
+
+DICK	Nay, he can make obligations, and write court-hand.
+
+CADE	I am sorry for't: the man is a proper man, of mine
+	honour; unless I find him guilty, he shall not die.
+	Come hither, sirrah, I must examine thee: what is thy name?
+
+Clerk	Emmanuel.
+
+DICK	They use to write it on the top of letters: 'twill
+	go hard with you.
+
+CADE	Let me alone. Dost thou use to write thy name? or
+	hast thou a mark to thyself, like an honest
+	plain-dealing man?
+
+CLERK	Sir, I thank God, I have been so well brought up
+	that I can write my name.
+
+ALL	He hath confessed: away with him! he's a villain
+	and a traitor.
+
+CADE	Away with him, I say! hang him with his pen and
+	ink-horn about his neck.
+
+	[Exit one with the Clerk]
+
+	[Enter MICHAEL]
+
+MICHAEL	Where's our general?
+
+CADE	Here I am, thou particular fellow.
+
+MICHAEL	Fly, fly, fly! Sir Humphrey Stafford and his
+	brother are hard by, with the king's forces.
+
+CADE	Stand, villain, stand, or I'll fell thee down. He
+	shall be encountered with a man as good as himself:
+	he is but a knight, is a'?
+
+MICHAEL	No.
+
+CADE	To equal him, I will make myself a knight presently.
+
+	[Kneels]
+
+	Rise up Sir John Mortimer.
+
+	[Rises]
+
+	Now have at him!
+
+	[Enter SIR HUMPHREY and WILLIAM STAFFORD, with
+	drum and soldiers]
+
+SIR HUMPHREY	Rebellious hinds, the filth and scum of Kent,
+	Mark'd for the gallows, lay your weapons down;
+	Home to your cottages, forsake this groom:
+	The king is merciful, if you revolt.
+
+WILLIAM STAFFORD	But angry, wrathful, and inclined to blood,
+	If you go forward; therefore yield, or die.
+
+CADE	As for these silken-coated slaves, I pass not:
+	It is to you, good people, that I speak,
+	Over whom, in time to come, I hope to reign;
+	For I am rightful heir unto the crown.
+
+SIR HUMPHREY	Villain, thy father was a plasterer;
+	And thou thyself a shearman, art thou not?
+
+CADE	And Adam was a gardener.
+
+WILLIAM STAFFORD	And what of that?
+
+CADE	Marry, this: Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March.
+	Married the Duke of Clarence' daughter, did he not?
+
+SIR HUMPHREY	Ay, sir.
+
+CADE	By her he had two children at one birth.
+
+WILLIAM STAFFORD	That's false.
+
+CADE	Ay, there's the question; but I say, 'tis true:
+	The elder of them, being put to nurse,
+	Was by a beggar-woman stolen away;
+	And, ignorant of his birth and parentage,
+	Became a bricklayer when he came to age:
+	His son am I; deny it, if you can.
+
+DICK	Nay, 'tis too true; therefore he shall be king.
+
+SMITH	Sir, he made a chimney in my father's house, and
+	the bricks are alive at this day to testify it;
+	therefore deny it not.
+
+SIR HUMPHREY	And will you credit this base drudge's words,
+	That speaks he knows not what?
+
+ALL	Ay, marry, will we; therefore get ye gone.
+
+WILLIAM STAFFORD	Jack Cade, the Duke of York hath taught you this.
+
+CADE	[Aside]  He lies, for I invented it myself.
+	Go to, sirrah, tell the king from me, that, for his
+	father's sake, Henry the Fifth, in whose time boys
+	went to span-counter for French crowns, I am content
+	he shall reign; but I'll be protector over him.
+
+DICK	And furthermore, well have the Lord Say's head for
+	selling the dukedom of Maine.
+
+CADE	And good reason; for thereby is England mained, and
+	fain to go with a staff, but that my puissance holds
+	it up. Fellow kings, I tell you that that Lord Say
+	hath gelded the commonwealth, and made it an eunuch:
+	and more than that, he can speak French; and
+	therefore he is a traitor.
+
+SIR HUMPHREY	O gross and miserable ignorance!
+
+CADE	Nay, answer, if you can: the Frenchmen are our
+	enemies; go to, then, I ask but this: can he that
+	speaks with the tongue of an enemy be a good
+	counsellor, or no?
+
+ALL	No, no; and therefore we'll have his head.
+
+WILLIAM STAFFORD	Well, seeing gentle words will not prevail,
+	Assail them with the army of the king.
+
+SIR HUMPHREY	Herald, away; and throughout every town
+	Proclaim them traitors that are up with Cade;
+	That those which fly before the battle ends
+	May, even in their wives' and children's sight,
+	Be hang'd up for example at their doors:
+	And you that be the king's friends, follow me.
+
+	[Exeunt WILLIAM STAFFORD and SIR HUMPHREY, and soldiers]
+
+CADE	And you that love the commons, follow me.
+	Now show yourselves men; 'tis for liberty.
+	We will not leave one lord, one gentleman:
+	Spare none but such as go in clouted shoon;
+	For they are thrifty honest men, and such
+	As would, but that they dare not, take our parts.
+
+DICK	They are all in order and march toward us.
+
+CADE	But then are we in order when we are most
+	out of order. Come, march forward.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Another part of Blackheath.
+
+
+	[Alarums to the fight, wherein SIR HUMPHREY and
+	WILLIAM STAFFORD are slain. Enter CADE and the rest]
+
+CADE	Where's Dick, the butcher of Ashford?
+
+DICK	Here, sir.
+
+CADE	They fell before thee like sheep and oxen, and thou
+	behavedst thyself as if thou hadst been in thine own
+	slaughter-house: therefore thus will I reward thee,
+	the Lent shall be as long again as it is; and thou
+	shalt have a licence to kill for a hundred lacking
+	one.
+
+DICK	I desire no more.
+
+CADE	And, to speak truth, thou deservest no less. This
+	monument of the victory will I bear;
+
+	[Putting on SIR HUMPHREY'S brigandine]
+
+	and the bodies shall be dragged at my horse' heels
+	till I do come to London, where we will have the
+	mayor's sword borne before us.
+
+DICK	If we mean to thrive and do good, break open the
+	gaols and let out the prisoners.
+
+CADE	Fear not that, I warrant thee. Come, let's march
+	towards London.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY VI with a supplication, and the
+	QUEEN with SUFFOLK'S head, BUCKINGHAM and Lord SAY]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind,
+	And makes it fearful and degenerate;
+	Think therefore on revenge and cease to weep.
+	But who can cease to weep and look on this?
+	Here may his head lie on my throbbing breast:
+	But where's the body that I should embrace?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	What answer makes your grace to the rebels'
+	supplication?
+
+KING HENRY VI	I'll send some holy bishop to entreat;
+	For God forbid so many simple souls
+	Should perish by the sword! And I myself,
+	Rather than bloody war shall cut them short,
+	Will parley with Jack Cade their general:
+	But stay, I'll read it over once again.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Ah, barbarous villains! hath this lovely face
+	Ruled, like a wandering planet, over me,
+	And could it not enforce them to relent,
+	That were unworthy to behold the same?
+
+KING HENRY VI	Lord Say, Jack Cade hath sworn to have thy head.
+
+SAY	Ay, but I hope your highness shall have his.
+
+KING HENRY VI	How now, madam!
+	Still lamenting and mourning for Suffolk's death?
+	I fear me, love, if that I had been dead,
+	Thou wouldst not have mourn'd so much for me.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	No, my love, I should not mourn, but die for thee.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+KING HENRY VI	How now! what news? why comest thou in such haste?
+
+Messenger	The rebels are in Southwark; fly, my lord!
+	Jack Cade proclaims himself Lord Mortimer,
+	Descended from the Duke of Clarence' house,
+	And calls your grace usurper openly
+	And vows to crown himself in Westminster.
+	His army is a ragged multitude
+	Of hinds and peasants, rude and merciless:
+	Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother's death
+	Hath given them heart and courage to proceed:
+	All scholars, lawyers, courtiers, gentlemen,
+	They call false caterpillars, and intend their death.
+
+KING HENRY VI	O graceless men! they know not what they do.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	My gracious lord, return to Killingworth,
+	Until a power be raised to put them down.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Ah, were the Duke of Suffolk now alive,
+	These Kentish rebels would be soon appeased!
+
+KING HENRY VI	Lord Say, the traitors hate thee;
+	Therefore away with us to Killingworth.
+
+SAY	So might your grace's person be in danger.
+	The sight of me is odious in their eyes;
+	And therefore in this city will I stay
+	And live alone as secret as I may.
+
+	[Enter another Messenger]
+
+Messenger	Jack Cade hath gotten London bridge:
+	The citizens fly and forsake their houses:
+	The rascal people, thirsting after prey,
+	Join with the traitor, and they jointly swear
+	To spoil the city and your royal court.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Then linger not, my lord, away, take horse.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Come, Margaret; God, our hope, will succor us.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	My hope is gone, now Suffolk is deceased.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Farewell, my lord: trust not the Kentish rebels.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Trust nobody, for fear you be betray'd.
+
+SAY	The trust I have is in mine innocence,
+	And therefore am I bold and resolute.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	London. The Tower.
+
+
+	[Enter SCALES upon the Tower, walking.
+	Then enter two or three Citizens below]
+
+SCALES	How now! is Jack Cade slain?
+
+First Citizen	No, my lord, nor likely to be slain; for they have
+	won the bridge, killing all those that withstand
+	them: the lord mayor craves aid of your honour from
+	the Tower, to defend the city from the rebels.
+
+SCALES	Such aid as I can spare you shall command;
+	But I am troubled here with them myself;
+	The rebels have assay'd to win the Tower.
+	But get you to Smithfield, and gather head,
+	And thither I will send you Matthew Goffe;
+	Fight for your king, your country and your lives;
+	And so, farewell, for I must hence again.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	London. Cannon Street.
+
+
+	[Enter CADE and the rest, and strikes his staff on
+	London-stone]
+
+CADE	Now is Mortimer lord of this city. And here, sitting
+	upon London-stone, I charge and command that, of the
+	city's cost, the pissing-conduit run nothing but
+	claret wine this first year of our reign. And now
+	henceforward it shall be treason for any that calls
+	me other than Lord Mortimer.
+
+	[Enter a Soldier, running]
+
+Soldier	Jack Cade! Jack Cade!
+
+CADE	Knock him down there.
+
+	[They kill him]
+
+SMITH	If this fellow be wise, he'll never call ye Jack
+	Cade more: I think he hath a very fair warning.
+
+DICK	My lord, there's an army gathered together in
+	Smithfield.
+
+CADE	Come, then, let's go fight with them; but first, go
+	and set London bridge on fire; and, if you can, burn
+	down the Tower too. Come, let's away.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	London. Smithfield.
+
+
+	[Alarums. MATTHEW GOFFE is slain, and all the rest.
+	Then enter CADE, with his company.
+
+CADE	So, sirs: now go some and pull down the Savoy;
+	others to the inns of court; down with them all.
+
+DICK	I have a suit unto your lordship.
+
+CADE	Be it a lordship, thou shalt have it for that word.
+
+DICK	Only that the laws of England may come out of your mouth.
+
+HOLLAND	[Aside]  Mass, 'twill be sore law, then; for he was
+	thrust in the mouth with a spear, and 'tis not whole
+	yet.
+
+SMITH	[Aside]  Nay, John, it will be stinking law for his
+	breath stinks with eating toasted cheese.
+
+CADE	I have thought upon it, it shall be so. Away, burn
+	all the records of the realm: my mouth shall be
+	the parliament of England.
+
+HOLLAND	[Aside]  Then we are like to have biting statutes,
+	unless his teeth be pulled out.
+
+CADE	And henceforward all things shall be in common.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	My lord, a prize, a prize! here's the Lord Say,
+	which sold the towns in France; he that made us pay
+	one and twenty fifteens, and one shilling to the
+	pound, the last subsidy.
+
+	[Enter BEVIS, with Lord SAY]
+
+CADE	Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times. Ah,
+	thou say, thou serge, nay, thou buckram lord! now
+	art thou within point-blank of our jurisdiction
+	regal. What canst thou answer to my majesty for
+	giving up of Normandy unto Mounsieur Basimecu, the
+	dauphin of France? Be it known unto thee by these
+	presence, even the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I
+	am the besom that must sweep the court clean of such
+	filth as thou art. Thou hast most traitorously
+	corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a
+	grammar school; and whereas, before, our forefathers
+	had no other books but the score and the tally, thou
+	hast caused printing to be used, and, contrary to
+	the king, his crown and dignity, thou hast built a
+	paper-mill. It will be proved to thy face that thou
+	hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun and
+	a verb, and such abominable words as no Christian
+	ear can endure to hear. Thou hast appointed
+	justices of peace, to call poor men before them
+	about matters they were not able to answer.
+	Moreover, thou hast put them in prison; and because
+	they could not read, thou hast hanged them; when,
+	indeed, only for that cause they have been most
+	worthy to live. Thou dost ride in a foot-cloth, dost thou not?
+
+SAY	What of that?
+
+CADE	Marry, thou oughtest not to let thy horse wear a
+	cloak, when honester men than thou go in their hose
+	and doublets.
+
+DICK	And work in their shirt too; as myself, for example,
+	that am a butcher.
+
+SAY	You men of Kent,--
+
+DICK	What say you of Kent?
+
+SAY	Nothing but this; 'tis 'bona terra, mala gens.'
+
+CADE	Away with him, away with him! he speaks Latin.
+
+SAY	Hear me but speak, and bear me where you will.
+	Kent, in the Commentaries Caesar writ,
+	Is term'd the civil'st place of this isle:
+	Sweet is the country, because full of riches;
+	The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy;
+	Which makes me hope you are not void of pity.
+	I sold not Maine, I lost not Normandy,
+	Yet, to recover them, would lose my life.
+	Justice with favour have I always done;
+	Prayers and tears have moved me, gifts could never.
+	When have I aught exacted at your hands,
+	But to maintain the king, the realm and you?
+	Large gifts have I bestow'd on learned clerks,
+	Because my book preferr'd me to the king,
+	And seeing ignorance is the curse of God,
+	Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven,
+	Unless you be possess'd with devilish spirits,
+	You cannot but forbear to murder me:
+	This tongue hath parley'd unto foreign kings
+	For your behoof,--
+
+CADE	Tut, when struck'st thou one blow in the field?
+
+SAY	Great men have reaching hands: oft have I struck
+	Those that I never saw and struck them dead.
+
+BEVIS	O monstrous coward! what, to come behind folks?
+
+SAY	These cheeks are pale for watching for your good.
+
+CADE	Give him a box o' the ear and that will make 'em red again.
+
+SAY	Long sitting to determine poor men's causes
+	Hath made me full of sickness and diseases.
+
+CADE	Ye shall have a hempen caudle, then, and the help of hatchet.
+
+DICK	Why dost thou quiver, man?
+
+SAY	The palsy, and not fear, provokes me.
+
+CADE	Nay, he nods at us, as who should say, I'll be even
+	with you: I'll see if his head will stand steadier
+	on a pole, or no. Take him away, and behead him.
+
+SAY	Tell me wherein have I offended most?
+	Have I affected wealth or honour? speak.
+	Are my chests fill'd up with extorted gold?
+	Is my apparel sumptuous to behold?
+	Whom have I injured, that ye seek my death?
+	These hands are free from guiltless bloodshedding,
+	This breast from harbouring foul deceitful thoughts.
+	O, let me live!
+
+CADE	[Aside]  I feel remorse in myself with his words;
+	but I'll bridle it: he shall die, an it be but for
+	pleading so well for his life. Away with him! he
+	has a familiar under his tongue; he speaks not o'
+	God's name. Go, take him away, I say, and strike
+	off his head presently; and then break into his
+	son-in-law's house, Sir James Cromer, and strike off
+	his head, and bring them both upon two poles hither.
+
+ALL	It shall be done.
+
+SAY	Ah, countrymen! if when you make your prayers,
+	God should be so obdurate as yourselves,
+	How would it fare with your departed souls?
+	And therefore yet relent, and save my life.
+
+CADE	Away with him! and do as I command ye.
+
+	[Exeunt some with Lord SAY]
+
+	The proudest peer in the realm shall not wear a head
+	on his shoulders, unless he pay me tribute; there
+	shall not a maid be married, but she shall pay to me
+	her maidenhead ere they have it: men shall hold of
+	me in capite; and we charge and command that their
+	wives be as free as heart can wish or tongue can tell.
+
+DICK	My lord, when shall we go to Cheapside and take up
+	commodities upon our bills?
+
+CADE	Marry, presently.
+
+ALL	O, brave!
+
+	[Re-enter one with the heads]
+
+CADE	But is not this braver? Let them kiss one another,
+	for they loved well when they were alive. Now part
+	them again, lest they consult about the giving up of
+	some more towns in France. Soldiers, defer the
+	spoil of the city until night: for with these borne
+	before us, instead of maces, will we ride through
+	the streets, and at every corner have them kiss. Away!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII	Southwark.
+
+
+	[Alarum and retreat. Enter CADE and all his
+	rabblement]
+
+CADE	Up Fish Street! down Saint Magnus' Corner! Kill
+	and knock down! throw them into Thames!
+
+	[Sound a parley]
+
+	What noise is this I hear? Dare any be so bold to
+	sound retreat or parley, when I command them kill?
+
+	[Enter BUCKINGHAM and CLIFFORD, attended]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Ay, here they be that dare and will disturb thee:
+	Know, Cade, we come ambassadors from the king
+	Unto the commons whom thou hast misled;
+	And here pronounce free pardon to them all
+	That will forsake thee and go home in peace.
+
+CLIFFORD	What say ye, countrymen? will ye relent,
+	And yield to mercy whilst 'tis offer'd you;
+	Or let a rebel lead you to your deaths?
+	Who loves the king and will embrace his pardon,
+	Fling up his cap, and say 'God save his majesty!'
+	Who hateth him and honours not his father,
+	Henry the Fifth, that made all France to quake,
+	Shake he his weapon at us and pass by.
+
+ALL	God save the king! God save the king!
+
+CADE	What, Buckingham and Clifford, are ye so brave? And
+	you, base peasants, do ye believe him? will you
+	needs be hanged with your pardons about your necks?
+	Hath my sword therefore broke through London gates,
+	that you should leave me at the White Hart in
+	Southwark? I thought ye would never have given out
+	these arms till you had recovered your ancient
+	freedom: but you are all recreants and dastards,
+	and delight to live in slavery to the nobility. Let
+	them break your backs with burthens, take your
+	houses over your heads, ravish your wives and
+	daughters before your faces: for me, I will make
+	shift for one; and so, God's curse light upon you
+	all!
+
+ALL	We'll follow Cade, we'll follow Cade!
+
+CLIFFORD	Is Cade the son of Henry the Fifth,
+	That thus you do exclaim you'll go with him?
+	Will he conduct you through the heart of France,
+	And make the meanest of you earls and dukes?
+	Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly to;
+	Nor knows he how to live but by the spoil,
+	Unless by robbing of your friends and us.
+	Were't not a shame, that whilst you live at jar,
+	The fearful French, whom you late vanquished,
+	Should make a start o'er seas and vanquish you?
+	Methinks already in this civil broil
+	I see them lording it in London streets,
+	Crying 'Villiago!' unto all they meet.
+	Better ten thousand base-born Cades miscarry
+	Than you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy.
+	To France, to France, and get what you have lost;
+	Spare England, for it is your native coast;
+	Henry hath money, you are strong and manly;
+	God on our side, doubt not of victory.
+
+ALL	A Clifford! a Clifford! we'll follow the king and Clifford.
+
+CADE	Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro as this
+	multitude? The name of Henry the Fifth hales them
+	to an hundred mischiefs, and makes them leave me
+	desolate. I see them lay their heads together to
+	surprise me. My sword make way for me, for here is
+	no staying. In despite of the devils and hell, have
+	through the very middest of you? and heavens and
+	honour be witness, that no want of resolution in me.
+	but only my followers' base and ignominious
+	treasons, makes me betake me to my heels.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	What, is he fled? Go some, and follow him;
+	And he that brings his head unto the king
+	Shall have a thousand crowns for his reward.
+
+	[Exeunt some of them]
+
+	Follow me, soldiers: we'll devise a mean
+	To reconcile you all unto the king.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IX	Kenilworth Castle.
+
+
+	[Sound Trumpets. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN
+	MARGARET, and SOMERSET, on the terrace]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Was ever king that joy'd an earthly throne,
+	And could command no more content than I?
+	No sooner was I crept out of my cradle
+	But I was made a king, at nine months old.
+	Was never subject long'd to be a king
+	As I do long and wish to be a subject.
+
+	[Enter BUCKINGHAM and CLIFFORD]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Health and glad tidings to your majesty!
+
+KING HENRY VI	Why, Buckingham, is the traitor Cade surprised?
+	Or is he but retired to make him strong?
+
+	[Enter below, multitudes, with halters about
+	their necks]
+
+CLIFFORD	He is fled, my lord, and all his powers do yield;
+	And humbly thus, with halters on their necks,
+	Expect your highness' doom of life or death.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Then, heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates,
+	To entertain my vows of thanks and praise!
+	Soldiers, this day have you redeemed your lives,
+	And show'd how well you love your prince and country:
+	Continue still in this so good a mind,
+	And Henry, though he be infortunate,
+	Assure yourselves, will never be unkind:
+	And so, with thanks and pardon to you all,
+	I do dismiss you to your several countries.
+
+ALL	God save the king! God save the king!
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	Please it your grace to be advertised
+	The Duke of York is newly come from Ireland,
+	And with a puissant and a mighty power
+	Of gallowglasses and stout kerns
+	Is marching hitherward in proud array,
+	And still proclaimeth, as he comes along,
+	His arms are only to remove from thee
+	The Duke of Somerset, whom he terms traitor.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and York distress'd.
+	Like to a ship that, having 'scaped a tempest,
+	Is straightway calm'd and boarded with a pirate:
+	But now is Cade driven back, his men dispersed;
+	And now is York in arms to second him.
+	I pray thee, Buckingham, go and meet him,
+	And ask him what's the reason of these arms.
+	Tell him I'll send Duke Edmund to the Tower;
+	And, Somerset, we'll commit thee thither,
+	Until his army be dismiss'd from him.
+
+SOMERSET	My lord,
+	I'll yield myself to prison willingly,
+	Or unto death, to do my country good.
+
+KING HENRY VI	In any case, be not too rough in terms;
+	For he is fierce and cannot brook hard language.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	I will, my lord; and doubt not so to deal
+	As all things shall redound unto your good.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Come, wife, let's in, and learn to govern better;
+	For yet may England curse my wretched reign.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE X	Kent. IDEN's garden.
+
+
+	[Enter CADE]
+
+CADE	Fie on ambition! fie on myself, that have a sword,
+	and yet am ready to famish! These five days have I
+	hid me in these woods and durst not peep out, for
+	all the country is laid for me; but now am I so
+	hungry that if I might have a lease of my life for a
+	thousand years I could stay no longer. Wherefore,
+	on a brick wall have I climbed into this garden, to
+	see if I can eat grass, or pick a sallet another
+	while, which is not amiss to cool a man's stomach
+	this hot weather. And I think this word 'sallet'
+	was born to do me good: for many a time, but for a
+	sallet, my brainpan had been cleft with a brown
+	bill; and many a time, when I have been dry and
+	bravely marching, it hath served me instead of a
+	quart pot to drink in; and now the word 'sallet'
+	must serve me to feed on.
+
+	[Enter IDEN]
+
+IDEN	Lord, who would live turmoiled in the court,
+	And may enjoy such quiet walks as these?
+	This small inheritance my father left me
+	Contenteth me, and worth a monarchy.
+	I seek not to wax great by others' waning,
+	Or gather wealth, I care not, with what envy:
+	Sufficeth that I have maintains my state
+	And sends the poor well pleased from my gate.
+
+CADE	Here's the lord of the soil come to seize me for a
+	stray, for entering his fee-simple without leave.
+	Ah, villain, thou wilt betray me, and get a thousand
+	crowns of the king carrying my head to him: but
+	I'll make thee eat iron like an ostrich, and swallow
+	my sword like a great pin, ere thou and I part.
+
+IDEN	Why, rude companion, whatsoe'er thou be,
+	I know thee not; why, then, should I betray thee?
+	Is't not enough to break into my garden,
+	And, like a thief, to come to rob my grounds,
+	Climbing my walls in spite of me the owner,
+	But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms?
+
+CADE	Brave thee! ay, by the best blood that ever was
+	broached, and beard thee too. Look on me well: I
+	have eat no meat these five days; yet, come thou and
+	thy five men, and if I do not leave you all as dead
+	as a doornail, I pray God I may never eat grass more.
+
+IDEN	Nay, it shall ne'er be said, while England stands,
+	That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent,
+	Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man.
+	Oppose thy steadfast-gazing eyes to mine,
+	See if thou canst outface me with thy looks:
+	Set limb to limb, and thou art far the lesser;
+	Thy hand is but a finger to my fist,
+	Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon;
+	My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast;
+	And if mine arm be heaved in the air,
+	Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth.
+	As for words, whose greatness answers words,
+	Let this my sword report what speech forbears.
+
+CADE	By my valour, the most complete champion that ever I
+	heard! Steel, if thou turn the edge, or cut not out
+	the burly-boned clown in chines of beef ere thou
+	sleep in thy sheath, I beseech God on my knees thou
+	mayst be turned to hobnails.
+
+	[Here they fight. CADE falls]
+
+	O, I am slain! famine and no other hath slain me:
+	let ten thousand devils come against me, and give me
+	but the ten meals I have lost, and I'll defy them
+	all. Wither, garden; and be henceforth a
+	burying-place to all that do dwell in this house,
+	because the unconquered soul of Cade is fled.
+
+IDEN	Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor?
+	Sword, I will hollow thee for this thy deed,
+	And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead:
+	Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point;
+	But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat,
+	To emblaze the honour that thy master got.
+
+CADE	Iden, farewell, and be proud of thy victory. Tell
+	Kent from me, she hath lost her best man, and exhort
+	all the world to be cowards; for I, that never
+	feared any, am vanquished by famine, not by valour.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+IDEN	How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be my judge.
+	Die, damned wretch, the curse of her that bare thee;
+	And as I thrust thy body in with my sword,
+	So wish I, I might thrust thy soul to hell.
+	Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels
+	Unto a dunghill which shall be thy grave,
+	And there cut off thy most ungracious head;
+	Which I will bear in triumph to the king,
+	Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Fields between Dartford and Blackheath.
+
+
+	[Enter YORK, and his army of Irish, with drum
+	and colours]
+
+YORK	From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right,
+	And pluck the crown from feeble Henry's head:
+	Ring, bells, aloud; burn, bonfires, clear and bright,
+	To entertain great England's lawful king.
+	Ah! sancta majestas, who would not buy thee dear?
+	Let them obey that know not how to rule;
+	This hand was made to handle naught but gold.
+	I cannot give due action to my words,
+	Except a sword or sceptre balance it:
+	A sceptre shall it have, have I a soul,
+	On which I'll toss the flower-de-luce of France.
+
+	[Enter BUCKINGHAM]
+
+	Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me?
+	The king hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	York, if thou meanest well, I greet thee well.
+
+YORK	Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting.
+	Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	A messenger from Henry, our dread liege,
+	To know the reason of these arms in peace;
+	Or why thou, being a subject as I am,
+	Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn,
+	Should raise so great a power without his leave,
+	Or dare to bring thy force so near the court.
+
+YORK	[Aside]  Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great:
+	O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint,
+	I am so angry at these abject terms;
+	And now, like Ajax Telamonius,
+	On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury.
+	I am far better born than is the king,
+	More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts:
+	But I must make fair weather yet a while,
+	Till Henry be more weak and I more strong,--
+	Buckingham, I prithee, pardon me,
+	That I have given no answer all this while;
+	My mind was troubled with deep melancholy.
+	The cause why I have brought this army hither
+	Is to remove proud Somerset from the king,
+	Seditious to his grace and to the state.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	That is too much presumption on thy part:
+	But if thy arms be to no other end,
+	The king hath yielded unto thy demand:
+	The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower.
+
+YORK	Upon thine honour, is he prisoner?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Upon mine honour, he is prisoner.
+
+YORK	Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my powers.
+	Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves;
+	Meet me to-morrow in St. George's field,
+	You shall have pay and every thing you wish.
+	And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry,
+	Command my eldest son, nay, all my sons,
+	As pledges of my fealty and love;
+	I'll send them all as willing as I live:
+	Lands, goods, horse, armour, any thing I have,
+	Is his to use, so Somerset may die.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	York, I commend this kind submission:
+	We twain will go into his highness' tent.
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY VI and Attendants]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to us,
+	That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm?
+
+YORK	In all submission and humility
+	York doth present himself unto your highness.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Then what intends these forces thou dost bring?
+
+YORK	To heave the traitor Somerset from hence,
+	And fight against that monstrous rebel Cade,
+	Who since I heard to be discomfited.
+
+	[Enter IDEN, with CADE'S head]
+
+IDEN	If one so rude and of so mean condition
+	May pass into the presence of a king,
+	Lo, I present your grace a traitor's head,
+	The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew.
+
+KING HENRY VI	The head of Cade! Great God, how just art Thou!
+	O, let me view his visage, being dead,
+	That living wrought me such exceeding trouble.
+	Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew him?
+
+IDEN	I was, an't like your majesty.
+
+KING HENRY VI	How art thou call'd? and what is thy degree?
+
+IDEN	Alexander Iden, that's my name;
+	A poor esquire of Kent, that loves his king.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	So please it you, my lord, 'twere not amiss
+	He were created knight for his good service.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Iden, kneel down.
+
+	[He kneels]
+
+	Rise up a knight.
+	We give thee for reward a thousand marks,
+	And will that thou henceforth attend on us.
+
+IDEN	May Iden live to merit such a bounty.
+	And never live but true unto his liege!
+
+	[Rises]
+
+	[Enter QUEEN MARGARET and SOMERSET]
+
+KING HENRY VI	See, Buckingham, Somerset comes with the queen:
+	Go, bid her hide him quickly from the duke.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head,
+	But boldly stand and front him to his face.
+
+YORK	How now! is Somerset at liberty?
+	Then, York, unloose thy long-imprison'd thoughts,
+	And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart.
+	Shall I endure the sight of Somerset?
+	False king! why hast thou broken faith with me,
+	Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse?
+	King did I call thee? no, thou art not king,
+	Not fit to govern and rule multitudes,
+	Which darest not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor.
+	That head of thine doth not become a crown;
+	Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff,
+	And not to grace an awful princely sceptre.
+	That gold must round engirt these brows of mine,
+	Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles' spear,
+	Is able with the change to kill and cure.
+	Here is a hand to hold a sceptre up
+	And with the same to act controlling laws.
+	Give place: by heaven, thou shalt rule no more
+	O'er him whom heaven created for thy ruler.
+
+SOMERSET	O monstrous traitor! I arrest thee, York,
+	Of capital treason 'gainst the king and crown;
+	Obey, audacious traitor; kneel for grace.
+
+YORK	Wouldst have me kneel? first let me ask of these,
+	If they can brook I bow a knee to man.
+	Sirrah, call in my sons to be my bail;
+
+	[Exit Attendant]
+
+	I know, ere they will have me go to ward,
+	They'll pawn their swords for my enfranchisement.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Call hither Clifford! bid him come amain,
+	To say if that the bastard boys of York
+	Shall be the surety for their traitor father.
+
+	[Exit BUCKINGHAM]
+
+YORK	O blood-besotted Neapolitan,
+	Outcast of Naples, England's bloody scourge!
+	The sons of York, thy betters in their birth,
+	Shall be their father's bail; and bane to those
+	That for my surety will refuse the boys!
+
+	[Enter EDWARD and RICHARD]
+
+	See where they come: I'll warrant they'll
+	make it good.
+
+	[Enter CLIFFORD and YOUNG CLIFFORD]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	And here comes Clifford to deny their bail.
+
+CLIFFORD	Health and all happiness to my lord the king!
+
+	[Kneels]
+
+YORK	I thank thee, Clifford: say, what news with thee?
+	Nay, do not fright us with an angry look;
+	We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
+	For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.
+
+CLIFFORD	This is my king, York, I do not mistake;
+	But thou mistakest me much to think I do:
+	To Bedlam with him! is the man grown mad?
+
+KING HENRY VI	Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious humour
+	Makes him oppose himself against his king.
+
+CLIFFORD	He is a traitor; let him to the Tower,
+	And chop away that factious pate of his.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	He is arrested, but will not obey;
+	His sons, he says, shall give their words for him.
+
+YORK	Will you not, sons?
+
+EDWARD	Ay, noble father, if our words will serve.
+
+RICHARD	And if words will not, then our weapons shall.
+
+CLIFFORD	Why, what a brood of traitors have we here!
+
+YORK	Look in a glass, and call thy image so:
+	I am thy king, and thou a false-heart traitor.
+	Call hither to the stake my two brave bears,
+	That with the very shaking of their chains
+	They may astonish these fell-lurking curs:
+	Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me.
+
+	[Enter the WARWICK and SALISBURY]
+
+CLIFFORD	Are these thy bears? we'll bait thy bears to death.
+	And manacle the bear-ward in their chains,
+	If thou darest bring them to the baiting place.
+
+RICHARD	Oft have I seen a hot o'erweening cur
+	Run back and bite, because he was withheld;
+	Who, being suffer'd with the bear's fell paw,
+	Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs and cried:
+	And such a piece of service will you do,
+	If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick.
+
+CLIFFORD	Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump,
+	As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!
+
+YORK	Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon.
+
+CLIFFORD	Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?
+	Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair,
+	Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick son!
+	What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian,
+	And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles?
+	O, where is faith? O, where is loyalty?
+	If it be banish'd from the frosty head,
+	Where shall it find a harbour in the earth?
+	Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war,
+	And shame thine honourable age with blood?
+	Why art thou old, and want'st experience?
+	Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it?
+	For shame! in duty bend thy knee to me
+	That bows unto the grave with mickle age.
+
+SALISBURY	My lord, I have consider'd with myself
+	The title of this most renowned duke;
+	And in my conscience do repute his grace
+	The rightful heir to England's royal seat.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me?
+
+SALISBURY	I have.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath?
+
+SALISBURY	It is great sin to swear unto a sin,
+	But greater sin to keep a sinful oath.
+	Who can be bound by any solemn vow
+	To do a murderous deed, to rob a man,
+	To force a spotless virgin's chastity,
+	To reave the orphan of his patrimony,
+	To wring the widow from her custom'd right,
+	And have no other reason for this wrong
+	But that he was bound by a solemn oath?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	A subtle traitor needs no sophister.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself.
+
+YORK	Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast,
+	I am resolved for death or dignity.
+
+CLIFFORD	The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true.
+
+WARWICK	You were best to go to bed and dream again,
+	To keep thee from the tempest of the field.
+
+CLIFFORD	I am resolved to bear a greater storm
+	Than any thou canst conjure up to-day;
+	And that I'll write upon thy burgonet,
+	Might I but know thee by thy household badge.
+
+WARWICK	Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's crest,
+	The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff,
+	This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,
+	As on a mountain top the cedar shows
+	That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm,
+	Even to affright thee with the view thereof.
+
+CLIFFORD	And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear
+	And tread it under foot with all contempt,
+	Despite the bear-ward that protects the bear.
+
+YOUNG CLIFFORD	And so to arms, victorious father,
+	To quell the rebels and their complices.
+
+RICHARD	Fie! charity, for shame! speak not in spite,
+	For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night.
+
+YOUNG CLIFFORD	Foul stigmatic, that's more than thou canst tell.
+
+RICHARD	If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell.
+
+	[Exeunt severally]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Saint Alban's.
+
+
+	[Alarums to the battle. Enter WARWICK]
+
+WARWICK	Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls:
+	And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear,
+	Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum
+	And dead men's cries do fill the empty air,
+	Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me:
+	Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
+	Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms.
+
+	[Enter YORK]
+
+	How now, my noble lord? what, all afoot?
+
+YORK	The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed,
+	But match to match I have encounter'd him
+	And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
+	Even of the bonny beast he loved so well.
+
+	[Enter CLIFFORD]
+
+WARWICK	Of one or both of us the time is come.
+
+YORK	Hold, Warwick, seek thee out some other chase,
+	For I myself must hunt this deer to death.
+
+WARWICK	Then, nobly, York; 'tis for a crown thou fight'st.
+	As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day,
+	It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CLIFFORD	What seest thou in me, York? why dost thou pause?
+
+YORK	With thy brave bearing should I be in love,
+	But that thou art so fast mine enemy.
+
+CLIFFORD	Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem,
+	But that 'tis shown ignobly and in treason.
+
+YORK	So let it help me now against thy sword
+	As I in justice and true right express it.
+
+CLIFFORD	My soul and body on the action both!
+
+YORK	A dreadful lay! Address thee instantly.
+
+	[They fight, and CLIFFORD falls]
+
+CLIFFORD	La fin couronne les oeuvres.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+YORK	Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still.
+	Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter YOUNG CLIFFORD]
+
+YOUNG CLIFFORD	Shame and confusion! all is on the rout;
+	Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds
+	Where it should guard. O war, thou son of hell,
+	Whom angry heavens do make their minister
+	Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part
+	Hot coals of vengeance! Let no soldier fly.
+	He that is truly dedicate to war
+	Hath no self-love, nor he that loves himself
+	Hath not essentially but by circumstance
+	The name of valour.
+
+	[Seeing his dead father]
+
+	O, let the vile world end,
+	And the premised flames of the last day
+	Knit earth and heaven together!
+	Now let the general trumpet blow his blast,
+	Particularities and petty sounds
+	To cease! Wast thou ordain'd, dear father,
+	To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve
+	The silver livery of advised age,
+	And, in thy reverence and thy chair-days, thus
+	To die in ruffian battle? Even at this sight
+	My heart is turn'd to stone: and while 'tis mine,
+	It shall be stony. York not our old men spares;
+	No more will I their babes: tears virginal
+	Shall be to me even as the dew to fire,
+	And beauty that the tyrant oft reclaims
+	Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax.
+	Henceforth I will not have to do with pity:
+	Meet I an infant of the house of York,
+	Into as many gobbets will I cut it
+	As wild Medea young Absyrtus did:
+	In cruelty will I seek out my fame.
+	Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house:
+	As did AEneas old Anchises bear,
+	So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders;
+	But then AEneas bare a living load,
+	Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine.
+
+	[Exit, bearing off his father]
+
+	[Enter RICHARD and SOMERSET to fight. SOMERSET
+	is killed]
+
+RICHARD	So, lie thou there;
+	For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign,
+	The Castle in Saint Alban's, Somerset
+	Hath made the wizard famous in his death.
+	Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful still:
+	Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Fight: excursions. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN
+	MARGARET, and others]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Away, my lord! you are slow; for shame, away!
+
+KING HENRY VI	Can we outrun the heavens? good Margaret, stay.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	What are you made of? you'll nor fight nor fly:
+	Now is it manhood, wisdom and defence,
+	To give the enemy way, and to secure us
+	By what we can, which can no more but fly.
+
+	[Alarum afar off]
+
+	If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom
+	Of all our fortunes: but if we haply scape,
+	As well we may, if not through your neglect,
+	We shall to London get, where you are loved
+	And where this breach now in our fortunes made
+	May readily be stopp'd.
+
+	[Re-enter YOUNG CLIFFORD]
+
+YOUNG CLIFFORD	But that my heart's on future mischief set,
+	I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly:
+	But fly you must; uncurable discomfit
+	Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts.
+	Away, for your relief! and we will live
+	To see their day and them our fortune give:
+	Away, my lord, away!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	2 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Fields near St. Alban's.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Retreat. Enter YORK, RICHARD, WARWICK,
+	and Soldiers, with drum and colours]
+
+YORK	Of Salisbury, who can report of him,
+	That winter lion, who in rage forgets
+	Aged contusions and all brush of time,
+	And, like a gallant in the brow of youth,
+	Repairs him with occasion? This happy day
+	Is not itself, nor have we won one foot,
+	If Salisbury be lost.
+
+RICHARD	My noble father,
+	Three times to-day I holp him to his horse,
+	Three times bestrid him; thrice I led him off,
+	Persuaded him from any further act:
+	But still, where danger was, still there I met him;
+	And like rich hangings in a homely house,
+	So was his will in his old feeble body.
+	But, noble as he is, look where he comes.
+
+	[Enter SALISBURY]
+
+SALISBURY	Now, by my sword, well hast thou fought to-day;
+	By the mass, so did we all. I thank you, Richard:
+	God knows how long it is I have to live;
+	And it hath pleased him that three times to-day
+	You have defended me from imminent death.
+	Well, lords, we have not got that which we have:
+	'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled,
+	Being opposites of such repairing nature.
+
+YORK	I know our safety is to follow them;
+	For, as I hear, the king is fled to London,
+	To call a present court of parliament.
+	Let us pursue him ere the writs go forth.
+	What says Lord Warwick? shall we after them?
+
+WARWICK	After them! nay, before them, if we can.
+	Now, by my faith, lords, 'twas a glorious day:
+	Saint Alban's battle won by famous York
+	Shall be eternized in all age to come.
+	Sound drums and trumpets, and to London all:
+	And more such days as these to us befall!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+	
+	
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+KING HENRY	the Sixth.
+
+EDWARD,
+PRINCE OF WALES	his son. (PRINCE EDWARD:)
+
+KING LEWIS XI	King of France. (KING LEWIS XI:)
+
+DUKE OF SOMERSET	(SOMERSET:)
+
+DUKE OF EXETER	(EXETER:)
+
+EARL OF OXFORD	(OXFORD:)
+
+EARL OF
+NORTHUMBERLAND	(NORTHUMBERLAND:)
+
+EARL OF
+WESTMORELAND	(WESTMORELAND:)
+
+LORD CLIFFORD	(CLIFFORD:)
+
+RICHARD
+PLANTAGENET	Duke of York. (YORK:)
+
+
+EDWARD	(EDWARD:) Earl of March,	|
+	afterwards King Edward IV.	|
+	(KING EDWARD IV:)		|
+			|
+EDMUND	Earl of Rutland, (RUTLAND:)	|
+			|  his sons.
+GEORGE	(GEORGE:)  afterwards Duke of	|
+	Clarence  (CLARENCE:)	|
+			|
+RICHARD	(RICHARD:) afterwards Duke of	|
+	Gloucester, (GLOUCESTER:)	|
+
+
+DUKE OF NORFOLK	(NORFOLK:)
+
+MARQUESS OF
+MONTAGUE	(MONTAGUE:)
+
+EARL OF WARWICK	(WARWICK:)
+
+EARL OF PEMBROKE	(PEMBROKE:)
+
+LORD HASTINGS	(HASTINGS:)
+
+LORD STAFFORD	(STAFFORD:)
+
+
+SIR JOHN MORTIMER	(JOHN MORTIMER:)	|
+		|  uncles to the Duke of York.
+SIR HUGH MORTIMER	(HUGH MORTIMER:)	|
+
+
+HENRY	Earl of Richmond, a youth (HENRY OF RICHMOND:).
+
+LORD RIVERS	brother to Lady Grey. (RIVERS:)
+
+SIR
+WILLIAM STANLEY	(STANLEY:)
+
+SIR
+JOHN MONTGOMERY	(MONTGOMERY:)
+
+SIR
+JOHN SOMERVILLE	(SOMERVILLE:)
+
+	Tutor to Rutland. (Tutor:)
+
+	Mayor of York. (Mayor:)
+
+	Lieutenant of the Tower. (Lieutenant:)
+
+	A Nobleman. (Nobleman:)
+
+	Two Keepers.
+	(First Keeper:)
+	(Second Keeper:)
+
+	A Huntsman. (Huntsman:)
+
+	A Son that has killed his father. (Son:)
+
+	A Father that has killed his son. (Father:)
+
+QUEEN MARGARET:
+
+LADY GREY	afterwards Queen to Edward IV. (QUEEN ELIZABETH:)
+
+BONA	sister to the French Queen.
+
+	Soldiers, Attendants, Messengers, Watchmen, &c.
+	(Soldier:)
+	(Post:)
+	(Messenger:)
+	(First Messenger:)
+	(Second Messenger:)
+	(First Watchman:)
+	(Second Watchman:)
+	(Third Watchman:)
+
+
+SCENE	England and France.
+
+
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. The Parliament-house.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Enter YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK,
+	MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers]
+
+WARWICK	I wonder how the king escaped our hands.
+
+YORK	While we pursued the horsemen of the north,
+	He slily stole away and left his men:
+	Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland,
+	Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat,
+	Cheer'd up the drooping army; and himself,
+	Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, all abreast,
+	Charged our main battle's front, and breaking in
+	Were by the swords of common soldiers slain.
+
+EDWARD	Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham,
+	Is either slain or wounded dangerously;
+	I cleft his beaver with a downright blow:
+	That this is true, father, behold his blood.
+
+MONTAGUE	And, brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshire's blood,
+	Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd.
+
+RICHARD	Speak thou for me and tell them what I did.
+
+	[Throwing down SOMERSET's head]
+
+YORK	Richard hath best deserved of all my sons.
+	But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset?
+
+NORFOLK	Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt!
+
+RICHARD	Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head.
+
+WARWICK	And so do I. Victorious Prince of York,
+	Before I see thee seated in that throne
+	Which now the house of Lancaster usurps,
+	I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close.
+	This is the palace of the fearful king,
+	And this the regal seat: possess it, York;
+	For this is thine and not King Henry's heirs'
+
+YORK	Assist me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will;
+	For hither we have broken in by force.
+
+NORFOLK	We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die.
+
+YORK	Thanks, gentle Norfolk: stay by me, my lords;
+	And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night.
+
+	[They go up]
+
+WARWICK	And when the king comes, offer no violence,
+	Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce.
+
+YORK	The queen this day here holds her parliament,
+	But little thinks we shall be of her council:
+	By words or blows here let us win our right.
+
+RICHARD	Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house.
+
+WARWICK	The bloody parliament shall this be call'd,
+	Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king,
+	And bashful Henry deposed, whose cowardice
+	Hath made us by-words to our enemies.
+
+YORK	Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute;
+	I mean to take possession of my right.
+
+WARWICK	Neither the king, nor he that loves him best,
+	The proudest he that holds up Lancaster,
+	Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells.
+	I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares:
+	Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown.
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, CLIFFORD,
+	NORTHUMBERLAND, WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and the rest]
+
+KING HENRY VI	My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits,
+	Even in the chair of state: belike he means,
+	Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer,
+	To aspire unto the crown and reign as king.
+	Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father.
+	And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow'd revenge
+	On him, his sons, his favourites and his friends.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	If I be not, heavens be revenged on me!
+
+CLIFFORD	The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel.
+
+WESTMORELAND	What, shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down:
+	My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland.
+
+CLIFFORD	Patience is for poltroons, such as he:
+	He durst not sit there, had your father lived.
+	My gracious lord, here in the parliament
+	Let us assail the family of York.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Well hast thou spoken, cousin: be it so.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Ah, know you not the city favours them,
+	And they have troops of soldiers at their beck?
+
+EXETER	But when the duke is slain, they'll quickly fly.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Far be the thought of this from Henry's heart,
+	To make a shambles of the parliament-house!
+	Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words and threats
+	Shall be the war that Henry means to use.
+	Thou factious Duke of York, descend my throne,
+	and kneel for grace and mercy at my feet;
+	I am thy sovereign.
+
+YORK	I am thine.
+
+EXETER	For shame, come down: he made thee Duke of York.
+
+YORK	'Twas my inheritance, as the earldom was.
+
+EXETER	Thy father was a traitor to the crown.
+
+WARWICK	Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown
+	In following this usurping Henry.
+
+CLIFFORD	Whom should he follow but his natural king?
+
+WARWICK	True, Clifford; and that's Richard Duke of York.
+
+KING HENRY VI	And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne?
+
+YORK	It must and shall be so: content thyself.
+
+WARWICK	Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king.
+
+WESTMORELAND	He is both king and Duke of Lancaster;
+	And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain.
+
+WARWICK	And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget
+	That we are those which chased you from the field
+	And slew your fathers, and with colours spread
+	March'd through the city to the palace gates.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief;
+	And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Plantagenet, of thee and these thy sons,
+	Thy kinsman and thy friends, I'll have more lives
+	Than drops of blood were in my father's veins.
+
+CLIFFORD	Urge it no more; lest that, instead of words,
+	I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger
+	As shall revenge his death before I stir.
+
+WARWICK	Poor Clifford! how I scorn his worthless threats!
+
+YORK	Will you we show our title to the crown?
+	If not, our swords shall plead it in the field.
+
+KING HENRY VI	What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown?
+	Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York;
+	Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March:
+	I am the son of Henry the Fifth,
+	Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop
+	And seized upon their towns and provinces.
+
+WARWICK	Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all.
+
+KING HENRY VI	The lord protector lost it, and not I:
+	When I was crown'd I was but nine months old.
+
+RICHARD	You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose.
+	Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head.
+
+EDWARD	Sweet father, do so; set it on your head.
+
+MONTAGUE	Good brother, as thou lovest and honourest arms,
+	Let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus.
+
+RICHARD	Sound drums and trumpets, and the king will fly.
+
+YORK	Sons, peace!
+
+KING HENRY VI	Peace, thou! and give King Henry leave to speak.
+
+WARWICK	Plantagenet shall speak first: hear him, lords;
+	And be you silent and attentive too,
+	For he that interrupts him shall not live.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly throne,
+	Wherein my grandsire and my father sat?
+	No: first shall war unpeople this my realm;
+	Ay, and their colours, often borne in France,
+	And now in England to our heart's great sorrow,
+	Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords?
+	My title's good, and better far than his.
+
+WARWICK	Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown.
+
+YORK	'Twas by rebellion against his king.
+
+KING HENRY VI	[Aside]  I know not what to say; my title's weak.--
+	Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir?
+
+YORK	What then?
+
+KING HENRY VI	An if he may, then am I lawful king;
+	For Richard, in the view of many lords,
+	Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth,
+	Whose heir my father was, and I am his.
+
+YORK	He rose against him, being his sovereign,
+	And made him to resign his crown perforce.
+
+WARWICK	Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain'd,
+	Think you 'twere prejudicial to his crown?
+
+EXETER	No; for he could not so resign his crown
+	But that the next heir should succeed and reign.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter?
+
+EXETER	His is the right, and therefore pardon me.
+
+YORK	Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not?
+
+EXETER	My conscience tells me he is lawful king.
+
+KING HENRY VI	[Aside]  All will revolt from me, and turn to him.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st,
+	Think not that Henry shall be so deposed.
+
+WARWICK	Deposed he shall be, in despite of all.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Thou art deceived: 'tis not thy southern power,
+	Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent,
+	Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud,
+	Can set the duke up in despite of me.
+
+CLIFFORD	King Henry, be thy title right or wrong,
+	Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence:
+	May that ground gape and swallow me alive,
+	Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father!
+
+KING HENRY VI	O Clifford, how thy words revive my heart!
+
+YORK	Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown.
+	What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords?
+
+WARWICK	Do right unto this princely Duke of York,
+	Or I will fill the house with armed men,
+	And over the chair of state, where now he sits,
+	Write up his title with usurping blood.
+
+	[He stamps with his foot and the soldiers show
+	themselves]
+
+KING HENRY VI	My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word:
+	Let me for this my life-time reign as king.
+
+YORK	Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs,
+	And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou livest.
+
+KING HENRY VI	I am content: Richard Plantagenet,
+	Enjoy the kingdom after my decease.
+
+CLIFFORD	What wrong is this unto the prince your son!
+
+WARWICK	What good is this to England and himself!
+
+WESTMORELAND	Base, fearful and despairing Henry!
+
+CLIFFORD	How hast thou injured both thyself and us!
+
+WESTMORELAND	I cannot stay to hear these articles.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Nor I.
+
+CLIFFORD	Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these news.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king,
+	In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Be thou a prey unto the house of York,
+	And die in bands for this unmanly deed!
+
+CLIFFORD	In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome,
+	Or live in peace abandon'd and despised!
+
+	[Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, CLIFFORD, and WESTMORELAND]
+
+WARWICK	Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not.
+
+EXETER	They seek revenge and therefore will not yield.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Ah, Exeter!
+
+WARWICK	          Why should you sigh, my lord?
+
+KING HENRY VI	Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son,
+	Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit.
+	But be it as it may: I here entail
+	The crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever;
+	Conditionally, that here thou take an oath
+	To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live,
+	To honour me as thy king and sovereign,
+	And neither by treason nor hostility
+	To seek to put me down and reign thyself.
+
+YORK	This oath I willingly take and will perform.
+
+WARWICK	Long live King Henry! Plantagenet embrace him.
+
+KING HENRY VI	And long live thou and these thy forward sons!
+
+YORK	Now York and Lancaster are reconciled.
+
+EXETER	Accursed be he that seeks to make them foes!
+
+	[Sennet. Here they come down]
+
+YORK	Farewell, my gracious lord; I'll to my castle.
+
+WARWICK	And I'll keep London with my soldiers.
+
+NORFOLK	And I to Norfolk with my followers.
+
+MONTAGUE	And I unto the sea from whence I came.
+
+	[Exeunt YORK, EDWARD, EDMUND, GEORGE, RICHARD,
+	WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, their Soldiers, and
+	Attendants]
+
+KING HENRY VI	And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court.
+
+	[Enter QUEEN MARGARET and PRINCE EDWARD]
+
+EXETER	Here comes the queen, whose looks bewray her anger:
+	I'll steal away.
+
+KING HENRY VI	                  Exeter, so will I.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Who can be patient in such extremes?
+	Ah, wretched man! would I had died a maid
+	And never seen thee, never borne thee son,
+	Seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father
+	Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus?
+	Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I,
+	Or felt that pain which I did for him once,
+	Or nourish'd him as I did with my blood,
+	Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there,
+	Rather than have that savage duke thine heir
+	And disinherited thine only son.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Father, you cannot disinherit me:
+	If you be king, why should not I succeed?
+
+KING HENRY VI	Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, sweet son:
+	The Earl of Warwick and the duke enforced me.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Enforced thee! art thou king, and wilt be forced?
+	I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch!
+	Thou hast undone thyself, thy son and me;
+	And given unto the house of York such head
+	As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance.
+	To entail him and his heirs unto the crown,
+	What is it, but to make thy sepulchre
+	And creep into it far before thy time?
+	Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais;
+	Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas;
+	The duke is made protector of the realm;
+	And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds
+	The trembling lamb environed with wolves.
+	Had I been there, which am a silly woman,
+	The soldiers should have toss'd me on their pikes
+	Before I would have granted to that act.
+	But thou preferr'st thy life before thine honour:
+	And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself
+	Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed,
+	Until that act of parliament be repeal'd
+	Whereby my son is disinherited.
+	The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours
+	Will follow mine, if once they see them spread;
+	And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace
+	And utter ruin of the house of York.
+	Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let's away;
+	Our army is ready; come, we'll after them.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Thou hast spoke too much already: get thee gone.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Ay, to be murder'd by his enemies.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	When I return with victory from the field
+	I'll see your grace: till then I'll follow her.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Come, son, away; we may not linger thus.
+
+	[Exeunt QUEEN MARGARET and PRINCE EDWARD]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Poor queen! how love to me and to her son
+	Hath made her break out into terms of rage!
+	Revenged may she be on that hateful duke,
+	Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire,
+	Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle
+	Tire on the flesh of me and of my son!
+	The loss of those three lords torments my heart:
+	I'll write unto them and entreat them fair.
+	Come, cousin you shall be the messenger.
+
+EXETER	And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Sandal Castle.
+
+
+	[Enter RICHARD, EDWARD, and MONTAGUE]
+
+RICHARD	Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave.
+
+EDWARD	No, I can better play the orator.
+
+MONTAGUE	But I have reasons strong and forcible.
+
+	[Enter YORK]
+
+YORK	Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife?
+	What is your quarrel? how began it first?
+
+EDWARD	No quarrel, but a slight contention.
+
+YORK	About what?
+
+RICHARD	About that which concerns your grace and us;
+	The crown of England, father, which is yours.
+
+YORK	Mine boy? not till King Henry be dead.
+
+RICHARD	Your right depends not on his life or death.
+
+EDWARD	Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now:
+	By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe,
+	It will outrun you, father, in the end.
+
+YORK	I took an oath that he should quietly reign.
+
+EDWARD	But for a kingdom any oath may be broken:
+	I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year.
+
+RICHARD	No; God forbid your grace should be forsworn.
+
+YORK	I shall be, if I claim by open war.
+
+RICHARD	I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak.
+
+YORK	Thou canst not, son; it is impossible.
+
+RICHARD	An oath is of no moment, being not took
+	Before a true and lawful magistrate,
+	That hath authority over him that swears:
+	Henry had none, but did usurp the place;
+	Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose,
+	Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
+	Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think
+	How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown;
+	Within whose circuit is Elysium
+	And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.
+	Why do we finger thus? I cannot rest
+	Until the white rose that I wear be dyed
+	Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart.
+
+YORK	Richard, enough; I will be king, or die.
+	Brother, thou shalt to London presently,
+	And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.
+	Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk,
+	And tell him privily of our intent.
+	You Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham,
+	With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise:
+	In them I trust; for they are soldiers,
+	Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit.
+	While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more,
+	But that I seek occasion how to rise,
+	And yet the king not privy to my drift,
+	Nor any of the house of Lancaster?
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+	But, stay: what news? Why comest thou in such post?
+
+Messenger	The queen with all the northern earls and lords
+	Intend here to besiege you in your castle:
+	She is hard by with twenty thousand men;
+	And therefore fortify your hold, my lord.
+
+YORK	Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou that we fear them?
+	Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me;
+	My brother Montague shall post to London:
+	Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest,
+	Whom we have left protectors of the king,
+	With powerful policy strengthen themselves,
+	And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths.
+
+MONTAGUE	Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not:
+	And thus most humbly I do take my leave.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter JOHN MORTIMER and HUGH MORTIMER]
+
+	Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles,
+	You are come to Sandal in a happy hour;
+	The army of the queen mean to besiege us.
+
+JOHN MORTIMER	She shall not need; we'll meet her in the field.
+
+YORK	What, with five thousand men?
+
+RICHARD	Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need:
+	A woman's general; what should we fear?
+
+	[A march afar off]
+
+EDWARD	I hear their drums: let's set our men in order,
+	And issue forth and bid them battle straight.
+
+YORK	Five men to twenty! though the odds be great,
+	I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.
+	Many a battle have I won in France,
+	When as the enemy hath been ten to one:
+	Why should I not now have the like success?
+
+	[Alarum. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Field of battle betwixt Sandal Castle and Wakefield.
+
+
+	[Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his Tutor]
+
+RUTLAND	Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands?
+	Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes!
+
+	[Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers]
+
+CLIFFORD	Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life.
+	As for the brat of this accursed duke,
+	Whose father slew my father, he shall die.
+
+Tutor	And I, my lord, will bear him company.
+
+CLIFFORD	Soldiers, away with him!
+
+Tutor	Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,
+	Lest thou be hated both of God and man!
+
+	[Exit, dragged off by Soldiers]
+
+CLIFFORD	How now! is he dead already? or is it fear
+	That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them.
+
+RUTLAND	So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch
+	That trembles under his devouring paws;
+	And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey,
+	And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder.
+	Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword,
+	And not with such a cruel threatening look.
+	Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die.
+	I am too mean a subject for thy wrath:
+	Be thou revenged on men, and let me live.
+
+CLIFFORD	In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood
+	Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter.
+
+RUTLAND	Then let my father's blood open it again:
+	He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.
+
+CLIFFORD	Had thy brethren here, their lives and thine
+	Were not revenge sufficient for me;
+	No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves
+	And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,
+	It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart.
+	The sight of any of the house of York
+	Is as a fury to torment my soul;
+	And till I root out their accursed line
+	And leave not one alive, I live in hell.
+	Therefore--
+
+	[Lifting his hand]
+
+RUTLAND	O, let me pray before I take my death!
+	To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me!
+
+CLIFFORD	Such pity as my rapier's point affords.
+
+RUTLAND	I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me?
+
+CLIFFORD	Thy father hath.
+
+RUTLAND	                  But 'twas ere I was born.
+	Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me,
+	Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just,
+	He be as miserably slain as I.
+	Ah, let me live in prison all my days;
+	And when I give occasion of offence,
+	Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause.
+
+CLIFFORD	No cause!
+	Thy father slew my father; therefore, die.
+
+	[Stabs him]
+
+RUTLAND	Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae!
+
+	[Dies]
+
+CLIFFORD	Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet!
+	And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade
+	Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood,
+	Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Enter YORK]
+
+YORK	The army of the queen hath got the field:
+	My uncles both are slain in rescuing me;
+	And all my followers to the eager foe
+	Turn back and fly, like ships before the wind
+	Or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves.
+	My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them:
+	But this I know, they have demean'd themselves
+	Like men born to renown by life or death.
+	Three times did Richard make a lane to me.
+	And thrice cried 'Courage, father! fight it out!'
+	And full as oft came Edward to my side,
+	With purple falchion, painted to the hilt
+	In blood of those that had encounter'd him:
+	And when the hardiest warriors did retire,
+	Richard cried 'Charge! and give no foot of ground!'
+	And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb!
+	A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!'
+	With this, we charged again: but, out, alas!
+	We bodged again; as I have seen a swan
+	With bootless labour swim against the tide
+	And spend her strength with over-matching waves.
+
+	[A short alarum within]
+
+	Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue;
+	And I am faint and cannot fly their fury:
+	And were I strong, I would not shun their fury:
+	The sands are number'd that make up my life;
+	Here must I stay, and here my life must end.
+
+	[Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND,
+	PRINCE EDWARD, and Soldiers]
+
+	Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland,
+	I dare your quenchless fury to more rage:
+	I am your butt, and I abide your shot.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet.
+
+CLIFFORD	Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm,
+	With downright payment, show'd unto my father.
+	Now Phaethon hath tumbled from his car,
+	And made an evening at the noontide prick.
+
+YORK	My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth
+	A bird that will revenge upon you all:
+	And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven,
+	Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with.
+	Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear?
+
+CLIFFORD	So cowards fight when they can fly no further;
+	So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons;
+	So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives,
+	Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers.
+
+YORK	O Clifford, but bethink thee once again,
+	And in thy thought o'er-run my former time;
+	And, if though canst for blushing, view this face,
+	And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice
+	Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this!
+
+CLIFFORD	I will not bandy with thee word for word,
+	But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Hold, valiant Clifford! for a thousand causes
+	I would prolong awhile the traitor's life.
+	Wrath makes him deaf: speak thou, Northumberland.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Hold, Clifford! do not honour him so much
+	To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart:
+	What valour were it, when a cur doth grin,
+	For one to thrust his hand between his teeth,
+	When he might spurn him with his foot away?
+	It is war's prize to take all vantages;
+	And ten to one is no impeach of valour.
+
+	[They lay hands on YORK, who struggles]
+
+CLIFFORD	Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	So doth the cony struggle in the net.
+
+YORK	So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty;
+	So true men yield, with robbers so o'ermatch'd.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	What would your grace have done unto him now?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland,
+	Come, make him stand upon this molehill here,
+	That raught at mountains with outstretched arms,
+	Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.
+	What! was it you that would be England's king?
+	Was't you that revell'd in our parliament,
+	And made a preachment of your high descent?
+	Where are your mess of sons to back you now?
+	The wanton Edward, and the lusty George?
+	And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy,
+	Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice
+	Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies?
+	Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland?
+	Look, York: I stain'd this napkin with the blood
+	That valiant Clifford, with his rapier's point,
+	Made issue from the bosom of the boy;
+	And if thine eyes can water for his death,
+	I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal.
+	Alas poor York! but that I hate thee deadly,
+	I should lament thy miserable state.
+	I prithee, grieve, to make me merry, York.
+	What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails
+	That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death?
+	Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be mad;
+	And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus.
+	Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance.
+	Thou wouldst be fee'd, I see, to make me sport:
+	York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown.
+	A crown for York! and, lords, bow low to him:
+	Hold you his hands, whilst I do set it on.
+
+	[Putting a paper crown on his head]
+
+	Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king!
+	Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair,
+	And this is he was his adopted heir.
+	But how is it that great Plantagenet
+	Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath?
+	As I bethink me, you should not be king
+	Till our King Henry had shook hands with death.
+	And will you pale your head in Henry's glory,
+	And rob his temples of the diadem,
+	Now in his life, against your holy oath?
+	O, 'tis a fault too too unpardonable!
+	Off with the crown, and with the crown his head;
+	And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead.
+
+CLIFFORD	That is my office, for my father's sake.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Nay, stay; lets hear the orisons he makes.
+
+YORK	She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France,
+	Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth!
+	How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex
+	To triumph, like an Amazonian trull,
+	Upon their woes whom fortune captivates!
+	But that thy face is, vizard-like, unchanging,
+	Made impudent with use of evil deeds,
+	I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush.
+	To tell thee whence thou camest, of whom derived,
+	Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless.
+	Thy father bears the type of King of Naples,
+	Of both the Sicils and Jerusalem,
+	Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman.
+	Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult?
+	It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen,
+	Unless the adage must be verified,
+	That beggars mounted run their horse to death.
+	'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud;
+	But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small:
+	'Tis virtue that doth make them most admired;
+	The contrary doth make thee wonder'd at:
+	'Tis government that makes them seem divine;
+	The want thereof makes thee abominable:
+	Thou art as opposite to every good
+	As the Antipodes are unto us,
+	Or as the south to the septentrion.
+	O tiger's heart wrapt in a woman's hide!
+	How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child,
+	To bid the father wipe his eyes withal,
+	And yet be seen to bear a woman's face?
+	Women are soft, mild, pitiful and flexible;
+	Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless.
+	Bids't thou me rage? why, now thou hast thy wish:
+	Wouldst have me weep? why, now thou hast thy will:
+	For raging wind blows up incessant showers,
+	And when the rage allays, the rain begins.
+	These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies:
+	And every drop cries vengeance for his death,
+	'Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false
+	Frenchwoman.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Beshrew me, but his passion moves me so
+	That hardly can I cheque my eyes from tears.
+
+YORK	That face of his the hungry cannibals
+	Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood:
+	But you are more inhuman, more inexorable,
+	O, ten times more, than tigers of Hyrcania.
+	See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears:
+	This cloth thou dip'dst in blood of my sweet boy,
+	And I with tears do wash the blood away.
+	Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this:
+	And if thou tell'st the heavy story right,
+	Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears;
+	Yea even my foes will shed fast-falling tears,
+	And say 'Alas, it was a piteous deed!'
+	There, take the crown, and, with the crown, my curse;
+	And in thy need such comfort come to thee
+	As now I reap at thy too cruel hand!
+	Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world:
+	My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads!
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Had he been slaughter-man to all my kin,
+	I should not for my life but weep with him.
+	To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	What, weeping-ripe, my Lord Northumberland?
+	Think but upon the wrong he did us all,
+	And that will quickly dry thy melting tears.
+
+CLIFFORD	Here's for my oath, here's for my father's death.
+
+	[Stabbing him]
+
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	And here's to right our gentle-hearted king.
+
+	[Stabbing him]
+
+YORK	Open Thy gate of mercy, gracious God!
+	My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Off with his head, and set it on York gates;
+	So York may overlook the town of York.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A plain near Mortimer's Cross in Herefordshire.
+
+
+	[A march. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and their power]
+
+EDWARD	I wonder how our princely father 'scaped,
+	Or whether he be 'scaped away or no
+	From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit:
+	Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news;
+	Had he been slain, we should have heard the news;
+	Or had he 'scaped, methinks we should have heard
+	The happy tidings of his good escape.
+	How fares my brother? why is he so sad?
+
+RICHARD	I cannot joy, until I be resolved
+	Where our right valiant father is become.
+	I saw him in the battle range about;
+	And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth.
+	Methought he bore him in the thickest troop
+	As doth a lion in a herd of neat;
+	Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs,
+	Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry,
+	The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him.
+	So fared our father with his enemies;
+	So fled his enemies my warlike father:
+	Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his son.
+	See how the morning opes her golden gates,
+	And takes her farewell of the glorious sun!
+	How well resembles it the prime of youth,
+	Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love!
+
+EDWARD	Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns?
+
+RICHARD	Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun;
+	Not separated with the racking clouds,
+	But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky.
+	See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss,
+	As if they vow'd some league inviolable:
+	Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun.
+	In this the heaven figures some event.
+
+EDWARD	'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of.
+	I think it cites us, brother, to the field,
+	That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet,
+	Each one already blazing by our meeds,
+	Should notwithstanding join our lights together
+	And over-shine the earth as this the world.
+	Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear
+	Upon my target three fair-shining suns.
+
+RICHARD	Nay, bear three daughters: by your leave I speak it,
+	You love the breeder better than the male.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+	But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell
+	Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue?
+
+Messenger	Ah, one that was a woful looker-on
+	When as the noble Duke of York was slain,
+	Your princely father and my loving lord!
+
+EDWARD	O, speak no more, for I have heard too much.
+
+RICHARD	Say how he died, for I will hear it all.
+
+Messenger	Environed he was with many foes,
+	And stood against them, as the hope of Troy
+	Against the Greeks that would have enter'd Troy.
+	But Hercules himself must yield to odds;
+	And many strokes, though with a little axe,
+	Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak.
+	By many hands your father was subdued;
+	But only slaughter'd by the ireful arm
+	Of unrelenting Clifford and the queen,
+	Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite,
+	Laugh'd in his face; and when with grief he wept,
+	The ruthless queen gave him to dry his cheeks
+	A napkin steeped in the harmless blood
+	Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain:
+	And after many scorns, many foul taunts,
+	They took his head, and on the gates of York
+	They set the same; and there it doth remain,
+	The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd.
+
+EDWARD	Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon,
+	Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay.
+	O Clifford, boisterous Clifford! thou hast slain
+	The flower of Europe for his chivalry;
+	And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him,
+	For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee.
+	Now my soul's palace is become a prison:
+	Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body
+	Might in the ground be closed up in rest!
+	For never henceforth shall I joy again,
+	Never, O never shall I see more joy!
+
+RICHARD	 I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture
+	Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart:
+	Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen;
+	For selfsame wind that I should speak withal
+	Is kindling coals that fires all my breast,
+	And burns me up with flames that tears would quench.
+	To weep is to make less the depth of grief:
+	Tears then for babes; blows and revenge for me
+	Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death,
+	Or die renowned by attempting it.
+
+EDWARD	His name that valiant duke hath left with thee;
+	His dukedom and his chair with me is left.
+
+RICHARD	Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird,
+	Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun:
+	For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say;
+	Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his.
+
+	[March. Enter WARWICK, MONTAGUE, and their army]
+
+WARWICK	How now, fair lords! What fare? what news abroad?
+
+RICHARD	Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount
+	Our baleful news, and at each word's deliverance
+	Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told,
+	The words would add more anguish than the wounds.
+	O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain!
+
+EDWARD	O Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet,
+	Which held three dearly as his soul's redemption,
+	Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death.
+
+WARWICK	Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears;
+	And now, to add more measure to your woes,
+	I come to tell you things sith then befall'n.
+	After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought,
+	Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp,
+	Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run,
+	Were brought me of your loss and his depart.
+	I, then in London keeper of the king,
+	Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends,
+	And very well appointed, as I thought,
+	March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen,
+	Bearing the king in my behalf along;
+	For by my scouts I was advertised
+	That she was coming with a full intent
+	To dash our late decree in parliament
+	Touching King Henry's oath and your succession.
+	Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met
+	Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought:
+	But whether 'twas the coldness of the king,
+	Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen,
+	That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen;
+	Or whether 'twas report of her success;
+	Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour,
+	Who thunders to his captives blood and death,
+	I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth,
+	Their weapons like to lightning came and went;
+	Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight,
+	Or like an idle thresher with a flail,
+	Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends.
+	I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause,
+	With promise of high pay and great rewards:
+	But all in vain; they had no heart to fight,
+	And we in them no hope to win the day;
+	So that we fled; the king unto the queen;
+	Lord George your brother, Norfolk and myself,
+	In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you:
+	For in the marches here we heard you were,
+	Making another head to fight again.
+
+EDWARD	Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick?
+	And when came George from Burgundy to England?
+
+WARWICK	Some six miles off the duke is with the soldiers;
+	And for your brother, he was lately sent
+	From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy,
+	With aid of soldiers to this needful war.
+
+RICHARD	'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled:
+	Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit,
+	But ne'er till now his scandal of retire.
+
+WARWICK	Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear;
+	For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine
+	Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head,
+	And wring the awful sceptre from his fist,
+	Were he as famous and as bold in war
+	As he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer.
+
+RICHARD	I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not:
+	'Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak.
+	But in this troublous time what's to be done?
+	Shall we go throw away our coats of steel,
+	And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns,
+	Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads?
+	Or shall we on the helmets of our foes
+	Tell our devotion with revengeful arms?
+	If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords.
+
+WARWICK	Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out;
+	And therefore comes my brother Montague.
+	Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen,
+	With Clifford and the haught Northumberland,
+	And of their feather many more proud birds,
+	Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax.
+	He swore consent to your succession,
+	His oath enrolled in the parliament;
+	And now to London all the crew are gone,
+	To frustrate both his oath and what beside
+	May make against the house of Lancaster.
+	Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong:
+	Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself,
+	With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March,
+	Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure,
+	Will but amount to five and twenty thousand,
+	Why, Via! to London will we march amain,
+	And once again bestride our foaming steeds,
+	And once again cry 'Charge upon our foes!'
+	But never once again turn back and fly.
+
+RICHARD	Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak:
+	Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day,
+	That cries 'Retire,' if Warwick bid him stay.
+
+EDWARD	Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean;
+	And when thou fail'st--as God forbid the hour!--
+	Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend!
+
+WARWICK	No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York:
+	The next degree is England's royal throne;
+	For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd
+	In every borough as we pass along;
+	And he that throws not up his cap for joy
+	Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head.
+	King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague,
+	Stay we no longer, dreaming of renown,
+	But sound the trumpets, and about our task.
+
+RICHARD	Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,
+	As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,
+	I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine.
+
+EDWARD	Then strike up drums: God and Saint George for us!
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+WARWICK	How now! what news?
+
+Messenger	The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me,
+	The queen is coming with a puissant host;
+	And craves your company for speedy counsel.
+
+WARWICK	Why then it sorts, brave warriors, let's away.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Before York.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET,
+	PRINCE EDWARD, CLIFFORD, and NORTHUMBERLAND, with
+	drum and trumpets]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York.
+	Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy
+	That sought to be encompass'd with your crown:
+	Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord?
+
+KING HENRY VI	Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck:
+	To see this sight, it irks my very soul.
+	Withhold revenge, dear God! 'tis not my fault,
+	Nor wittingly have I infringed my vow.
+
+CLIFFORD	My gracious liege, this too much lenity
+	And harmful pity must be laid aside.
+	To whom do lions cast their gentle looks?
+	Not to the beast that would usurp their den.
+	Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick?
+	Not his that spoils her young before her face.
+	Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting?
+	Not he that sets his foot upon her back.
+	The smallest worm will turn being trodden on,
+	And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.
+	Ambitious York doth level at thy crown,
+	Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows:
+	He, but a duke, would have his son a king,
+	And raise his issue, like a loving sire;
+	Thou, being a king, blest with a goodly son,
+	Didst yield consent to disinherit him,
+	Which argued thee a most unloving father.
+	Unreasonable creatures feed their young;
+	And though man's face be fearful to their eyes,
+	Yet, in protection of their tender ones,
+	Who hath not seen them, even with those wings
+	Which sometime they have used with fearful flight,
+	Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest,
+	Offer their own lives in their young's defence?
+	For shame, my liege, make them your precedent!
+	Were it not pity that this goodly boy
+	Should lose his birthright by his father's fault,
+	And long hereafter say unto his child,
+	'What my great-grandfather and his grandsire got
+	My careless father fondly gave away'?
+	Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy;
+	And let his manly face, which promiseth
+	Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart
+	To hold thine own and leave thine own with him.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator,
+	Inferring arguments of mighty force.
+	But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear
+	That things ill-got had ever bad success?
+	And happy always was it for that son
+	Whose father for his hoarding went to hell?
+	I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind;
+	And would my father had left me no more!
+	For all the rest is held at such a rate
+	As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep
+	Than in possession and jot of pleasure.
+	Ah, cousin York! would thy best friends did know
+	How it doth grieve me that thy head is here!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	My lord, cheer up your spirits: our foes are nigh,
+	And this soft courage makes your followers faint.
+	You promised knighthood to our forward son:
+	Unsheathe your sword, and dub him presently.
+	Edward, kneel down.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight;
+	And learn this lesson, draw thy sword in right.
+
+PRINCE	My gracious father, by your kingly leave,
+	I'll draw it as apparent to the crown,
+	And in that quarrel use it to the death.
+
+CLIFFORD	Why, that is spoken like a toward prince.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	Royal commanders, be in readiness:
+	For with a band of thirty thousand men
+	Comes Warwick, backing of the Duke of York;
+	And in the towns, as they do march along,
+	Proclaims him king, and many fly to him:
+	Darraign your battle, for they are at hand.
+
+CLIFFORD	I would your highness would depart the field:
+	The queen hath best success when you are absent.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our fortune.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Why, that's my fortune too; therefore I'll stay.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Be it with resolution then to fight.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	My royal father, cheer these noble lords
+	And hearten those that fight in your defence:
+	Unsheathe your sword, good father; cry 'Saint George!'
+
+	[March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK,
+	NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and Soldiers]
+
+EDWARD	Now, perjured Henry! wilt thou kneel for grace,
+	And set thy diadem upon my head;
+	Or bide the mortal fortune of the field?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Go, rate thy minions, proud insulting boy!
+	Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms
+	Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king?
+
+EDWARD	I am his king, and he should bow his knee;
+	I was adopted heir by his consent:
+	Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear,
+	You, that are king, though he do wear the crown,
+	Have caused him, by new act of parliament,
+	To blot out me, and put his own son in.
+
+CLIFFORD	And reason too:
+	Who should succeed the father but the son?
+
+RICHARD	Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak!
+
+CLIFFORD	Ay, crook-back, here I stand to answer thee,
+	Or any he the proudest of thy sort.
+
+RICHARD	'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not?
+
+CLIFFORD	Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied.
+
+RICHARD	For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight.
+
+WARWICK	What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick! dare you speak?
+	When you and I met at Saint Alban's last,
+	Your legs did better service than your hands.
+
+WARWICK	Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine.
+
+CLIFFORD	You said so much before, and yet you fled.
+
+WARWICK	'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay.
+
+RICHARD	Northumberland, I hold thee reverently.
+	Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain
+	The execution of my big-swoln heart
+	Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer.
+
+CLIFFORD	I slew thy father, call'st thou him a child?
+
+RICHARD	Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward,
+	As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland;
+	But ere sunset I'll make thee curse the deed.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips.
+
+KING HENRY VI	I prithee, give no limits to my tongue:
+	I am a king, and privileged to speak.
+
+CLIFFORD	My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here
+	Cannot be cured by words; therefore be still.
+
+RICHARD	Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword:
+	By him that made us all, I am resolved
+	that Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue.
+
+EDWARD	Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no?
+	A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day,
+	That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown.
+
+WARWICK	If thou deny, their blood upon thy head;
+	For York in justice puts his armour on.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	If that be right which Warwick says is right,
+	There is no wrong, but every thing is right.
+
+RICHARD	Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands;
+	For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam;
+	But like a foul mis-shapen stigmatic,
+	Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided,
+	As venom toads, or lizards' dreadful stings.
+
+RICHARD	Iron of Naples hid with English gilt,
+	Whose father bears the title of a king,--
+	As if a channel should be call'd the sea,--
+	Shamest thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught,
+	To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart?
+
+EDWARD	A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns,
+	To make this shameless callet know herself.
+	Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou,
+	Although thy husband may be Menelaus;
+	And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wrong'd
+	By that false woman, as this king by thee.
+	His father revell'd in the heart of France,
+	And tamed the king, and made the dauphin stoop;
+	And had he match'd according to his state,
+	He might have kept that glory to this day;
+	But when he took a beggar to his bed,
+	And graced thy poor sire with his bridal-day,
+	Even then that sunshine brew'd a shower for him,
+	That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France,
+	And heap'd sedition on his crown at home.
+	For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride?
+	Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept;
+	And we, in pity of the gentle king,
+	Had slipp'd our claim until another age.
+
+GEORGE	But when we saw our sunshine made thy spring,
+	And that thy summer bred us no increase,
+	We set the axe to thy usurping root;
+	And though the edge hath something hit ourselves,
+	Yet, know thou, since we have begun to strike,
+	We'll never leave till we have hewn thee down,
+	Or bathed thy growing with our heated bloods.
+
+EDWARD	And, in this resolution, I defy thee;
+	Not willing any longer conference,
+	Since thou deniest the gentle king to speak.
+	Sound trumpets! let our bloody colours wave!
+	And either victory, or else a grave.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Stay, Edward.
+
+EDWARD	No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay:
+	These words will cost ten thousand lives this day.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A field of battle between Towton and Saxton, in
+	Yorkshire.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Excursions. Enter WARWICK]
+
+WARWICK	Forspent with toil, as runners with a race,
+	I lay me down a little while to breathe;
+	For strokes received, and many blows repaid,
+	Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength,
+	And spite of spite needs must I rest awhile.
+
+	[Enter EDWARD, running]
+
+EDWARD	Smile, gentle heaven! or strike, ungentle death!
+	For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded.
+
+WARWICK	How now, my lord! what hap? what hope of good?
+
+	[Enter GEORGE]
+
+GEORGE	Our hap is loss, our hope but sad despair;
+	Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us:
+	What counsel give you? whither shall we fly?
+
+EDWARD	Bootless is flight, they follow us with wings;
+	And weak we are and cannot shun pursuit.
+
+	[Enter RICHARD]
+
+RICHARD	Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself?
+	Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk,
+	Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance;
+	And in the very pangs of death he cried,
+	Like to a dismal clangour heard from far,
+	'Warwick, revenge! brother, revenge my death!'
+	So, underneath the belly of their steeds,
+	That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood,
+	The noble gentleman gave up the ghost.
+
+WARWICK	Then let the earth be drunken with our blood:
+	I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly.
+	Why stand we like soft-hearted women here,
+	Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage;
+	And look upon, as if the tragedy
+	Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors?
+	Here on my knee I vow to God above,
+	I'll never pause again, never stand still,
+	Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine
+	Or fortune given me measure of revenge.
+
+EDWARD	O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine;
+	And in this vow do chain my soul to thine!
+	And, ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face,
+	I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to thee,
+	Thou setter up and plucker down of kings,
+	Beseeching thee, if with they will it stands
+	That to my foes this body must be prey,
+	Yet that thy brazen gates of heaven may ope,
+	And give sweet passage to my sinful soul!
+	Now, lords, take leave until we meet again,
+	Where'er it be, in heaven or in earth.
+
+RICHARD	Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Warwick,
+	Let me embrace thee in my weary arms:
+	I, that did never weep, now melt with woe
+	That winter should cut off our spring-time so.
+
+WARWICK	Away, away! Once more, sweet lords farewell.
+
+GEORGE	Yet let us all together to our troops,
+	And give them leave to fly that will not stay;
+	And call them pillars that will stand to us;
+	And, if we thrive, promise them such rewards
+	As victors wear at the Olympian games:
+	This may plant courage in their quailing breasts;
+	For yet is hope of life and victory.
+	Forslow no longer, make we hence amain.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Excursions. Enter RICHARD and CLIFFORD]
+
+RICHARD	Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone:
+	Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York,
+	And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge,
+	Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall.
+
+CLIFFORD	Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone:
+	This is the hand that stabb'd thy father York;
+	And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland;
+	And here's the heart that triumphs in their death
+	And cheers these hands that slew thy sire and brother
+	To execute the like upon thyself;
+	And so, have at thee!
+
+	[They fight. WARWICK comes; CLIFFORD flies]
+
+RICHARD	Nay Warwick, single out some other chase;
+	For I myself will hunt this wolf to death.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Enter KING HENRY VI alone]
+
+KING HENRY VI	This battle fares like to the morning's war,
+	When dying clouds contend with growing light,
+	What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails,
+	Can neither call it perfect day nor night.
+	Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea
+	Forced by the tide to combat with the wind;
+	Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea
+	Forced to retire by fury of the wind:
+	Sometime the flood prevails, and then the wind;
+	Now one the better, then another best;
+	Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast,
+	Yet neither conqueror nor conquered:
+	So is the equal of this fell war.
+	Here on this molehill will I sit me down.
+	To whom God will, there be the victory!
+	For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too,
+	Have chid me from the battle; swearing both
+	They prosper best of all when I am thence.
+	Would I were dead! if God's good will were so;
+	For what is in this world but grief and woe?
+	O God! methinks it were a happy life,
+	To be no better than a homely swain;
+	To sit upon a hill, as I do now,
+	To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,
+	Thereby to see the minutes how they run,
+	How many make the hour full complete;
+	How many hours bring about the day;
+	How many days will finish up the year;
+	How many years a mortal man may live.
+	When this is known, then to divide the times:
+	So many hours must I tend my flock;
+	So many hours must I take my rest;
+	So many hours must I contemplate;
+	So many hours must I sport myself;
+	So many days my ewes have been with young;
+	So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean:
+	So many years ere I shall shear the fleece:
+	So minutes, hours, days, months, and years,
+	Pass'd over to the end they were created,
+	Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
+	Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely!
+	Gives not the hawthorn-bush a sweeter shade
+	To shepherds looking on their silly sheep,
+	Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy
+	To kings that fear their subjects' treachery?
+	O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth.
+	And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds,
+	His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle.
+	His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade,
+	All which secure and sweetly he enjoys,
+	Is far beyond a prince's delicates,
+	His viands sparkling in a golden cup,
+	His body couched in a curious bed,
+	When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him.
+
+	[Alarum. Enter a Son that has killed his father,
+	dragging in the dead body]
+
+Son	Ill blows the wind that profits nobody.
+	This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight,
+	May be possessed with some store of crowns;
+	And I, that haply take them from him now,
+	May yet ere night yield both my life and them
+	To some man else, as this dead man doth me.
+	Who's this? O God! it is my father's face,
+	Whom in this conflict I unwares have kill'd.
+	O heavy times, begetting such events!
+	From London by the king was I press'd forth;
+	My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man,
+	Came on the part of York, press'd by his master;
+	And I, who at his hands received my life, him
+	Have by my hands of life bereaved him.
+	Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did!
+	And pardon, father, for I knew not thee!
+	My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks;
+	And no more words till they have flow'd their fill.
+
+KING HENRY VI	O piteous spectacle! O bloody times!
+	Whiles lions war and battle for their dens,
+	Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity.
+	Weep, wretched man, I'll aid thee tear for tear;
+	And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war,
+	Be blind with tears, and break o'ercharged with grief.
+
+	[Enter a Father that has killed his son, bringing in the body]
+
+Father	Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me,
+	Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold:
+	For I have bought it with an hundred blows.
+	But let me see: is this our foeman's face?
+	Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son!
+	Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee,
+	Throw up thine eye! see, see what showers arise,
+	Blown with the windy tempest of my heart,
+	Upon thy words, that kill mine eye and heart!
+	O, pity, God, this miserable age!
+	What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly,
+	Erroneous, mutinous and unnatural,
+	This deadly quarrel daily doth beget!
+	O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon,
+	And hath bereft thee of thy life too late!
+
+KING HENRY VI	Woe above woe! grief more than common grief!
+	O that my death would stay these ruthful deeds!
+	O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity!
+	The red rose and the white are on his face,
+	The fatal colours of our striving houses:
+	The one his purple blood right well resembles;
+	The other his pale cheeks, methinks, presenteth:
+	Wither one rose, and let the other flourish;
+	If you contend, a thousand lives must wither.
+
+Son	How will my mother for a father's death
+	Take on with me and ne'er be satisfied!
+
+Father	How will my wife for slaughter of my son
+	Shed seas of tears and ne'er be satisfied!
+
+KING HENRY VI	How will the country for these woful chances
+	Misthink the king and not be satisfied!
+
+Son	Was ever son so rued a father's death?
+
+Father	Was ever father so bemoan'd his son?
+
+KING HENRY VI	Was ever king so grieved for subjects' woe?
+	Much is your sorrow; mine ten times so much.
+
+Son	I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill.
+
+	[Exit with the body]
+
+Father	These arms of mine shall be thy winding-sheet;
+	My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre,
+	For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go;
+	My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell;
+	And so obsequious will thy father be,
+	Even for the loss of thee, having no more,
+	As Priam was for all his valiant sons.
+	I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will,
+	For I have murdered where I should not kill.
+
+	[Exit with the body]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care,
+	Here sits a king more woful than you are.
+
+	[Alarums: excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE
+	EDWARD, and EXETER]
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Fly, father, fly! for all your friends are fled,
+	And Warwick rages like a chafed bull:
+	Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain:
+	Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds
+	Having the fearful flying hare in sight,
+	With fiery eyes sparkling for very wrath,
+	And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands,
+	Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain.
+
+EXETER	Away! for vengeance comes along with them:
+	Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed;
+	Or else come after: I'll away before.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter:
+	Not that I fear to stay, but love to go
+	Whither the queen intends. Forward; away!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[A loud alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded]
+
+CLIFFORD	Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies,
+	Which, whiles it lasted, gave King Henry light.
+	O Lancaster, I fear thy overthrow
+	More than my body's parting with my soul!
+	My love and fear glued many friends to thee;
+	And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts.
+	Impairing Henry, strengthening misproud York,
+	The common people swarm like summer flies;
+	And whither fly the gnats but to the sun?
+	And who shines now but Henry's enemies?
+	O Phoebus, hadst thou never given consent
+	That Phaethon should cheque thy fiery steeds,
+	Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth!
+	And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do,
+	Or as thy father and his father did,
+	Giving no ground unto the house of York,
+	They never then had sprung like summer flies;
+	I and ten thousand in this luckless realm
+	Had left no mourning widows for our death;
+	And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace.
+	For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air?
+	And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity?
+	Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds;
+	No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight:
+	The foe is merciless, and will not pity;
+	For at their hands I have deserved no pity.
+	The air hath got into my deadly wounds,
+	And much effuse of blood doth make me faint.
+	Come, York and Richard, Warwick and the rest;
+	I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms, split my breast.
+
+	[He faints]
+
+	[Alarum and retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD,
+	MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers]
+
+EDWARD	Now breathe we, lords: good fortune bids us pause,
+	And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks.
+	Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen,
+	That led calm Henry, though he were a king,
+	As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust,
+	Command an argosy to stem the waves.
+	But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them?
+
+WARWICK	No, 'tis impossible he should escape,
+	For, though before his face I speak the words
+	Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave:
+	And wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead.
+
+	[CLIFFORD groans, and dies]
+
+EDWARD	Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave?
+
+RICHARD	A deadly groan, like life and death's departing.
+
+EDWARD	See who it is: and, now the battle's ended,
+	If friend or foe, let him be gently used.
+
+RICHARD	Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford;
+	Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch
+	In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth,
+	But set his murdering knife unto the root
+	From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring,
+	I mean our princely father, Duke of York.
+
+WARWICK	From off the gates of York fetch down the head,
+	Your father's head, which Clifford placed there;
+	Instead whereof let this supply the room:
+	Measure for measure must be answered.
+
+EDWARD	Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house,
+	That nothing sung but death to us and ours:
+	Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound,
+	And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak.
+
+WARWICK	I think his understanding is bereft.
+	Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee?
+	Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life,
+	And he nor sees nor hears us what we say.
+
+RICHARD	O, would he did! and so perhaps he doth:
+	'Tis but his policy to counterfeit,
+	Because he would avoid such bitter taunts
+	Which in the time of death he gave our father.
+
+GEORGE	If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words.
+
+RICHARD	Clifford, ask mercy and obtain no grace.
+
+EDWARD	Clifford, repent in bootless penitence.
+
+WARWICK	Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults.
+
+GEORGE	While we devise fell tortures for thy faults.
+
+RICHARD	Thou didst love York, and I am son to York.
+
+EDWARD	Thou pitied'st Rutland; I will pity thee.
+
+GEORGE	Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now?
+
+WARWICK	They mock thee, Clifford: swear as thou wast wont.
+
+RICHARD	What, not an oath? nay, then the world goes hard
+	When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath.
+	I know by that he's dead; and, by my soul,
+	If this right hand would buy two hour's life,
+	That I in all despite might rail at him,
+	This hand should chop it off, and with the
+	issuing blood
+	Stifle the villain whose unstanched thirst
+	York and young Rutland could not satisfy.
+
+WARWICK	Ay, but he's dead: off with the traitor's head,
+	And rear it in the place your father's stands.
+	And now to London with triumphant march,
+	There to be crowned England's royal king:
+	From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France,
+	And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen:
+	So shalt thou sinew both these lands together;
+	And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread
+	The scatter'd foe that hopes to rise again;
+	For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,
+	Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears.
+	First will I see the coronation;
+	And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea,
+	To effect this marriage, so it please my lord.
+
+EDWARD	Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be;
+	For in thy shoulder do I build my seat,
+	And never will I undertake the thing
+	Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting.
+	Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester,
+	And George, of Clarence: Warwick, as ourself,
+	Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best.
+
+RICHARD	Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester;
+	For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous.
+
+WARWICK	Tut, that's a foolish observation:
+	Richard, be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London,
+	To see these honours in possession.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A forest in the north of England.
+
+
+	[Enter two Keepers, with cross-bows in their hands]
+
+First Keeper	Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves;
+	For through this laund anon the deer will come;
+	And in this covert will we make our stand,
+	Culling the principal of all the deer.
+
+Second Keeper	I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot.
+
+First Keeper	That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow
+	Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost.
+	Here stand we both, and aim we at the best:
+	And, for the time shall not seem tedious,
+	I'll tell thee what befell me on a day
+	In this self-place where now we mean to stand.
+
+Second Keeper	Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past.
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY VI, disguised, with a prayerbook]
+
+KING HENRY VI	From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love,
+	To greet mine own land with my wishful sight.
+	No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine;
+	Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee,
+	Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou wast anointed:
+	No bending knee will call thee Caesar now,
+	No humble suitors press to speak for right,
+	No, not a man comes for redress of thee;
+	For how can I help them, and not myself?
+
+First Keeper	Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee:
+	This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Let me embrace thee, sour adversity,
+	For wise men say it is the wisest course.
+
+Second Keeper	Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him.
+
+First Keeper	Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more.
+
+KING HENRY VI	My queen and son are gone to France for aid;
+	And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick
+	Is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister
+	To wife for Edward: if this news be true,
+	Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost;
+	For Warwick is a subtle orator,
+	And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words.
+	By this account then Margaret may win him;
+	For she's a woman to be pitied much:
+	Her sighs will make a battery in his breast;
+	Her tears will pierce into a marble heart;
+	The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn;
+	And Nero will be tainted with remorse,
+	To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears.
+	Ay, but she's come to beg, Warwick to give;
+	She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry,
+	He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward.
+	She weeps, and says her Henry is deposed;
+	He smiles, and says his Edward is install'd;
+	That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more;
+	Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong,
+	Inferreth arguments of mighty strength,
+	And in conclusion wins the king from her,
+	With promise of his sister, and what else,
+	To strengthen and support King Edward's place.
+	O Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul,
+	Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn!
+
+Second Keeper	Say, what art thou that talk'st of kings and queens?
+
+KING HENRY VI	More than I seem, and less than I was born to:
+	A man at least, for less I should not be;
+	And men may talk of kings, and why not I?
+
+Second Keeper	Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough.
+
+Second Keeper	But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown?
+
+KING HENRY VI	My crown is in my heart, not on my head;
+	Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones,
+	Nor to be seen: my crown is called content:
+	A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.
+
+Second Keeper	Well, if you be a king crown'd with content,
+	Your crown content and you must be contented
+	To go along with us; for as we think,
+	You are the king King Edward hath deposed;
+	And we his subjects sworn in all allegiance
+	Will apprehend you as his enemy.
+
+KING HENRY VI	But did you never swear, and break an oath?
+
+Second Keeper	No, never such an oath; nor will not now.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Where did you dwell when I was King of England?
+
+Second Keeper	Here in this country, where we now remain.
+
+KING HENRY VI	I was anointed king at nine months old;
+	My father and my grandfather were kings,
+	And you were sworn true subjects unto me:
+	And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths?
+
+First Keeper	No;
+	For we were subjects but while you were king.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Why, am I dead? do I not breathe a man?
+	Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear!
+	Look, as I blow this feather from my face,
+	And as the air blows it to me again,
+	Obeying with my wind when I do blow,
+	And yielding to another when it blows,
+	Commanded always by the greater gust;
+	Such is the lightness of you common men.
+	But do not break your oaths; for of that sin
+	My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty.
+	Go where you will, the king shall be commanded;
+	And be you kings, command, and I'll obey.
+
+First Keeper	We are true subjects to the king, King Edward.
+
+KING HENRY VI	So would you be again to Henry,
+	If he were seated as King Edward is.
+
+First Keeper	We charge you, in God's name, and the king's,
+	To go with us unto the officers.
+
+KING HENRY VI	In God's name, lead; your king's name be obey'd:
+	And what God will, that let your king perform;
+	And what he will, I humbly yield unto.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter KING EDWARD IV, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and
+	LADY GREY]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Alban's field
+	This lady's husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain,
+	His lands then seized on by the conqueror:
+	Her suit is now to repossess those lands;
+	Which we in justice cannot well deny,
+	Because in quarrel of the house of York
+	The worthy gentleman did lose his life.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Your highness shall do well to grant her suit;
+	It were dishonour to deny it her.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CLARENCE]  Yea, is it so?
+	I see the lady hath a thing to grant,
+	Before the king will grant her humble suit.
+
+CLARENCE	[Aside to GLOUCESTER]  He knows the game: how true
+	he keeps the wind!
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CLARENCE]  Silence!
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Widow, we will consider of your suit;
+	And come some other time to know our mind.
+
+LADY GREY	Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay:
+	May it please your highness to resolve me now;
+	And what your pleasure is, shall satisfy me.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CLARENCE]  Ay, widow? then I'll warrant
+	you all your lands,
+	An if what pleases him shall pleasure you.
+	Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow.
+
+CLARENCE	[Aside to GLOUCESTER]  I fear her not, unless she
+	chance to fall.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CLARENCE] God forbid that! for he'll
+	take vantages.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	How many children hast thou, widow? tell me.
+
+CLARENCE	[Aside to GLOUCESTER]  I think he means to beg a
+	child of her.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CLARENCE]  Nay, whip me then: he'll rather
+	give her two.
+
+LADY GREY	Three, my most gracious lord.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CLARENCE]  You shall have four, if you'll
+	be ruled by him.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	'Twere pity they should lose their father's lands.
+
+LADY GREY	Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Lords, give us leave: I'll try this widow's wit.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CLARENCE]  Ay, good leave have you; for
+	you will have leave,
+	Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch.
+
+	[GLOUCESTER and CLARENCE retire]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?
+
+LADY GREY	Ay, full as dearly as I love myself.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	And would you not do much to do them good?
+
+LADY GREY	To do them good, I would sustain some harm.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Then get your husband's lands, to do them good.
+
+LADY GREY	Therefore I came unto your majesty.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	I'll tell you how these lands are to be got.
+
+LADY GREY	So shall you bind me to your highness' service.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	What service wilt thou do me, if I give them?
+
+LADY GREY	What you command, that rests in me to do.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	But you will take exceptions to my boon.
+
+LADY GREY	No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask.
+
+LADY GREY	Why, then I will do what your grace commands.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CLARENCE]  He plies her hard; and much rain
+	wears the marble.
+
+CLARENCE	[Aside to GLOUCESTER]  As red as fire! nay, then
+	her wax must melt.
+
+LADY GREY	Why stops my lord, shall I not hear my task?
+
+KING EDWARD IV	An easy task; 'tis but to love a king.
+
+LADY GREY	That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee.
+
+LADY GREY	I take my leave with many thousand thanks.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CLARENCE]  The match is made; she seals it
+	with a curtsy.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of love I mean.
+
+LADY GREY	The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense.
+	What love, think'st thou, I sue so much to get?
+
+LADY GREY	My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers;
+	That love which virtue begs and virtue grants.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	No, by my troth, I did not mean such love.
+
+LADY GREY	Why, then you mean not as I thought you did.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	But now you partly may perceive my mind.
+
+LADY GREY	My mind will never grant what I perceive
+	Your highness aims at, if I aim aright.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee.
+
+LADY GREY	To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands.
+
+LADY GREY	Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower;
+	For by that loss I will not purchase them.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily.
+
+LADY GREY	Herein your highness wrongs both them and me.
+	But, mighty lord, this merry inclination
+	Accords not with the sadness of my suit:
+	Please you dismiss me either with 'ay' or 'no.'
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Ay, if thou wilt say 'ay' to my request;
+	No if thou dost say 'no' to my demand.
+
+LADY GREY	Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CLARENCE]  The widow likes him not, she
+	knits her brows.
+
+CLARENCE	[Aside to GLOUCESTER]  He is the bluntest wooer in
+	Christendom.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	[Aside]  Her looks do argue her replete with modesty;
+	Her words do show her wit incomparable;
+	All her perfections challenge sovereignty:
+	One way or other, she is for a king;
+	And she shall be my love, or else my queen.--
+	Say that King Edward take thee for his queen?
+
+LADY GREY	'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord:
+	I am a subject fit to jest withal,
+	But far unfit to be a sovereign.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee
+	I speak no more than what my soul intends;
+	And that is, to enjoy thee for my love.
+
+LADY GREY	And that is more than I will yield unto:
+	I know I am too mean to be your queen,
+	And yet too good to be your concubine.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	You cavil, widow: I did mean, my queen.
+
+LADY GREY	'Twill grieve your grace my sons should call you father.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	No more than when my daughters call thee mother.
+	Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children;
+	And, by God's mother, I, being but a bachelor,
+	Have other some: why, 'tis a happy thing
+	To be the father unto many sons.
+	Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside to CLARENCE]  The ghostly father now hath done
+	his shrift.
+
+CLARENCE	[Aside to GLOUCESTER]  When he was made a shriver,
+	'twas for shift.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had.
+
+GLOUCESTER	The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	You'll think it strange if I should marry her.
+
+CLARENCE	To whom, my lord?
+
+KING EDWARD IV	                  Why, Clarence, to myself.
+
+GLOUCESTER	That would be ten days' wonder at the least.
+
+CLARENCE	That's a day longer than a wonder lasts.
+
+GLOUCESTER	By so much is the wonder in extremes.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Well, jest on, brothers: I can tell you both
+	Her suit is granted for her husband's lands.
+
+	[Enter a Nobleman]
+
+Nobleman	My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken,
+	And brought your prisoner to your palace gate.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	See that he be convey'd unto the Tower:
+	And go we, brothers, to the man that took him,
+	To question of his apprehension.
+	Widow, go you along. Lords, use her honourably.
+
+	[Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ay, Edward will use women honourably.
+	Would he were wasted, marrow, bones and all,
+	That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring,
+	To cross me from the golden time I look for!
+	And yet, between my soul's desire and me--
+	The lustful Edward's title buried--
+	Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward,
+	And all the unlook'd for issue of their bodies,
+	To take their rooms, ere I can place myself:
+	A cold premeditation for my purpose!
+	Why, then, I do but dream on sovereignty;
+	Like one that stands upon a promontory,
+	And spies a far-off shore where he would tread,
+	Wishing his foot were equal with his eye,
+	And chides the sea that sunders him from thence,
+	Saying, he'll lade it dry to have his way:
+	So do I wish the crown, being so far off;
+	And so I chide the means that keeps me from it;
+	And so I say, I'll cut the causes off,
+	Flattering me with impossibilities.
+	My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much,
+	Unless my hand and strength could equal them.
+	Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard;
+	What other pleasure can the world afford?
+	I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap,
+	And deck my body in gay ornaments,
+	And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks.
+	O miserable thought! and more unlikely
+	Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns!
+	Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb:
+	And, for I should not deal in her soft laws,
+	She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe,
+	To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub;
+	To make an envious mountain on my back,
+	Where sits deformity to mock my body;
+	To shape my legs of an unequal size;
+	To disproportion me in every part,
+	Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp
+	That carries no impression like the dam.
+	And am I then a man to be beloved?
+	O monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought!
+	Then, since this earth affords no joy to me,
+	But to command, to cheque, to o'erbear such
+	As are of better person than myself,
+	I'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown,
+	And, whiles I live, to account this world but hell,
+	Until my mis-shaped trunk that bears this head
+	Be round impaled with a glorious crown.
+	And yet I know not how to get the crown,
+	For many lives stand between me and home:
+	And I,--like one lost in a thorny wood,
+	That rends the thorns and is rent with the thorns,
+	Seeking a way and straying from the way;
+	Not knowing how to find the open air,
+	But toiling desperately to find it out,--
+	Torment myself to catch the English crown:
+	And from that torment I will free myself,
+	Or hew my way out with a bloody axe.
+	Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile,
+	And cry 'Content' to that which grieves my heart,
+	And wet my cheeks with artificial tears,
+	And frame my face to all occasions.
+	I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall;
+	I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk;
+	I'll play the orator as well as Nestor,
+	Deceive more slily than Ulysses could,
+	And, like a Sinon, take another Troy.
+	I can add colours to the chameleon,
+	Change shapes with Proteus for advantages,
+	And set the murderous Machiavel to school.
+	Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?
+	Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	France. KING LEWIS XI's palace.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING LEWIS XI, his sister BONA,
+	his Admiral, called BOURBON, PRINCE EDWARD, QUEEN
+	MARGARET, and OXFORD. KING LEWIS XI sits, and
+	riseth up again]
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret,
+	Sit down with us: it ill befits thy state
+	And birth, that thou shouldst stand while Lewis doth sit.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	No, mighty King of France: now Margaret
+	Must strike her sail and learn awhile to serve
+	Where kings command. I was, I must confess,
+	Great Albion's queen in former golden days:
+	But now mischance hath trod my title down,
+	And with dishonour laid me on the ground;
+	Where I must take like seat unto my fortune,
+	And to my humble seat conform myself.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Why, say, fair queen, whence springs this deep despair?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears
+	And stops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in cares.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself,
+	And sit thee by our side:
+
+	[Seats her by him]
+
+		    Yield not thy neck
+	To fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind
+	Still ride in triumph over all mischance.
+	Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief;
+	It shall be eased, if France can yield relief.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Those gracious words revive my drooping thoughts
+	And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak.
+	Now, therefore, be it known to noble Lewis,
+	That Henry, sole possessor of my love,
+	Is of a king become a banish'd man,
+	And forced to live in Scotland a forlorn;
+	While proud ambitious Edward Duke of York
+	Usurps the regal title and the seat
+	Of England's true-anointed lawful king.
+	This is the cause that I, poor Margaret,
+	With this my son, Prince Edward, Henry's heir,
+	Am come to crave thy just and lawful aid;
+	And if thou fail us, all our hope is done:
+	Scotland hath will to help, but cannot help;
+	Our people and our peers are both misled,
+	Our treasures seized, our soldiers put to flight,
+	And, as thou seest, ourselves in heavy plight.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Renowned queen, with patience calm the storm,
+	While we bethink a means to break it off.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	The more we stay, the stronger grows our foe.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	The more I stay, the more I'll succor thee.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow.
+	And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow!
+
+	[Enter WARWICK]
+
+KING LEWIS XI	What's he approacheth boldly to our presence?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Our Earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest friend.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Welcome, brave Warwick! What brings thee to France?
+
+	[He descends. She ariseth]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Ay, now begins a second storm to rise;
+	For this is he that moves both wind and tide.
+
+WARWICK	From worthy Edward, King of Albion,
+	My lord and sovereign, and thy vowed friend,
+	I come, in kindness and unfeigned love,
+	First, to do greetings to thy royal person;
+	And then to crave a league of amity;
+	And lastly, to confirm that amity
+	With a nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant
+	That virtuous Lady Bona, thy fair sister,
+	To England's king in lawful marriage.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	[Aside]  If that go forward, Henry's hope is done.
+
+WARWICK	[To BONA]  And, gracious madam, in our king's behalf,
+	I am commanded, with your leave and favour,
+	Humbly to kiss your hand, and with my tongue
+	To tell the passion of my sovereign's heart;
+	Where fame, late entering at his heedful ears,
+	Hath placed thy beauty's image and thy virtue.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	King Lewis and Lady Bona, hear me speak,
+	Before you answer Warwick. His demand
+	Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love,
+	But from deceit bred by necessity;
+	For how can tyrants safely govern home,
+	Unless abroad they purchase great alliance?
+	To prove him tyrant this reason may suffice,
+	That Henry liveth still: but were he dead,
+	Yet here Prince Edward stands, King Henry's son.
+	Look, therefore, Lewis, that by this league and marriage
+	Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonour;
+	For though usurpers sway the rule awhile,
+	Yet heavens are just, and time suppresseth wrongs.
+
+WARWICK	Injurious Margaret!
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	And why not queen?
+
+WARWICK	Because thy father Henry did usurp;
+	And thou no more are prince than she is queen.
+
+OXFORD	Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt,
+	Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain;
+	And, after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth,
+	Whose wisdom was a mirror to the wisest;
+	And, after that wise prince, Henry the Fifth,
+	Who by his prowess conquered all France:
+	From these our Henry lineally descends.
+
+WARWICK	Oxford, how haps it, in this smooth discourse,
+	You told not how Henry the Sixth hath lost
+	All that which Henry Fifth had gotten?
+	Methinks these peers of France should smile at that.
+	But for the rest, you tell a pedigree
+	Of threescore and two years; a silly time
+	To make prescription for a kingdom's worth.
+
+OXFORD	Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy liege,
+	Whom thou obeyed'st thirty and six years,
+	And not bewray thy treason with a blush?
+
+WARWICK	Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right,
+	Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree?
+	For shame! leave Henry, and call Edward king.
+
+OXFORD	Call him my king by whose injurious doom
+	My elder brother, the Lord Aubrey Vere,
+	Was done to death? and more than so, my father,
+	Even in the downfall of his mellow'd years,
+	When nature brought him to the door of death?
+	No, Warwick, no; while life upholds this arm,
+	This arm upholds the house of Lancaster.
+
+WARWICK	And I the house of York.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford,
+	Vouchsafe, at our request, to stand aside,
+	While I use further conference with Warwick.
+
+	[They stand aloof]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Heavens grant that Warwick's words bewitch him not!
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Now Warwick, tell me, even upon thy conscience,
+	Is Edward your true king? for I were loath
+	To link with him that were not lawful chosen.
+
+WARWICK	Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honour.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	But is he gracious in the people's eye?
+
+WARWICK	The more that Henry was unfortunate.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Then further, all dissembling set aside,
+	Tell me for truth the measure of his love
+	Unto our sister Bona.
+
+WARWICK	Such it seems
+	As may beseem a monarch like himself.
+	Myself have often heard him say and swear
+	That this his love was an eternal plant,
+	Whereof the root was fix'd in virtue's ground,
+	The leaves and fruit maintain'd with beauty's sun,
+	Exempt from envy, but not from disdain,
+	Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve.
+
+BONA	Your grant, or your denial, shall be mine:
+
+	[To WARWICK]
+
+	Yet I confess that often ere this day,
+	When I have heard your king's desert recounted,
+	Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Then, Warwick, thus: our sister shall be Edward's;
+	And now forthwith shall articles be drawn
+	Touching the jointure that your king must make,
+	Which with her dowry shall be counterpoised.
+	Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness
+	That Bona shall be wife to the English king.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	To Edward, but not to the English king.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Deceitful Warwick! it was thy device
+	By this alliance to make void my suit:
+	Before thy coming Lewis was Henry's friend.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	And still is friend to him and Margaret:
+	But if your title to the crown be weak,
+	As may appear by Edward's good success,
+	Then 'tis but reason that I be released
+	From giving aid which late I promised.
+	Yet shall you have all kindness at my hand
+	That your estate requires and mine can yield.
+
+WARWICK	Henry now lives in Scotland at his ease,
+	Where having nothing, nothing can he lose.
+	And as for you yourself, our quondam queen,
+	You have a father able to maintain you;
+	And better 'twere you troubled him than France.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick, peace,
+	Proud setter up and puller down of kings!
+	I will not hence, till, with my talk and tears,
+	Both full of truth, I make King Lewis behold
+	Thy sly conveyance and thy lord's false love;
+	For both of you are birds of selfsame feather.
+
+	[Post blows a horn within]
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Warwick, this is some post to us or thee.
+
+	[Enter a Post]
+
+Post	[To WARWICK]  My lord ambassador, these letters are for you,
+	Sent from your brother, Marquess Montague:
+
+	[To KING LEWIS XI]
+
+	These from our king unto your majesty:
+
+	[To QUEEN MARGARET]
+
+	And, madam, these for you; from whom I know not.
+
+	[They all read their letters]
+
+OXFORD	I like it well that our fair queen and mistress
+	Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Nay, mark how Lewis stamps, as he were nettled:
+	I hope all's for the best.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Warwick, what are thy news? and yours, fair queen?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Mine, such as fill my heart with unhoped joys.
+
+WARWICK	Mine, full of sorrow and heart's discontent.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	What! has your king married the Lady Grey!
+	And now, to soothe your forgery and his,
+	Sends me a paper to persuade me patience?
+	Is this the alliance that he seeks with France?
+	Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	I told your majesty as much before:
+	This proveth Edward's love and Warwick's honesty.
+
+WARWICK	King Lewis, I here protest, in sight of heaven,
+	And by the hope I have of heavenly bliss,
+	That I am clear from this misdeed of Edward's,
+	No more my king, for he dishonours me,
+	But most himself, if he could see his shame.
+	Did I forget that by the house of York
+	My father came untimely to his death?
+	Did I let pass the abuse done to my niece?
+	Did I impale him with the regal crown?
+	Did I put Henry from his native right?
+	And am I guerdon'd at the last with shame?
+	Shame on himself! for my desert is honour:
+	And to repair my honour lost for him,
+	I here renounce him and return to Henry.
+	My noble queen, let former grudges pass,
+	And henceforth I am thy true servitor:
+	I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona,
+	And replant Henry in his former state.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Warwick, these words have turn'd my hate to love;
+	And I forgive and quite forget old faults,
+	And joy that thou becomest King Henry's friend.
+
+WARWICK	So much his friend, ay, his unfeigned friend,
+	That, if King Lewis vouchsafe to furnish us
+	With some few bands of chosen soldiers,
+	I'll undertake to land them on our coast
+	And force the tyrant from his seat by war.
+	'Tis not his new-made bride shall succor him:
+	And as for Clarence, as my letters tell me,
+	He's very likely now to fall from him,
+	For matching more for wanton lust than honour,
+	Or than for strength and safety of our country.
+
+BONA	Dear brother, how shall Bona be revenged
+	But by thy help to this distressed queen?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Renowned prince, how shall poor Henry live,
+	Unless thou rescue him from foul despair?
+
+BONA	My quarrel and this English queen's are one.
+
+WARWICK	And mine, fair lady Bona, joins with yours.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	And mine with hers, and thine, and Margaret's.
+	Therefore at last I firmly am resolved
+	You shall have aid.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Let me give humble thanks for all at once.
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Then, England's messenger, return in post,
+	And tell false Edward, thy supposed king,
+	That Lewis of France is sending over masquers
+	To revel it with him and his new bride:
+	Thou seest what's past, go fear thy king withal.
+
+BONA	Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower shortly,
+	I'll wear the willow garland for his sake.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Tell him, my mourning weeds are laid aside,
+	And I am ready to put armour on.
+
+WARWICK	Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong,
+	And therefore I'll uncrown him ere't be long.
+	There's thy reward: be gone.
+
+	[Exit Post]
+
+KING LEWIS XI	But, Warwick,
+	Thou and Oxford, with five thousand men,
+	Shall cross the seas, and bid false Edward battle;
+	And, as occasion serves, this noble queen
+	And prince shall follow with a fresh supply.
+	Yet, ere thou go, but answer me one doubt,
+	What pledge have we of thy firm loyalty?
+
+WARWICK	This shall assure my constant loyalty,
+	That if our queen and this young prince agree,
+	I'll join mine eldest daughter and my joy
+	To him forthwith in holy wedlock bands.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Yes, I agree, and thank you for your motion.
+	Son Edward, she is fair and virtuous,
+	Therefore delay not, give thy hand to Warwick;
+	And, with thy hand, thy faith irrevocable,
+	That only Warwick's daughter shall be thine.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves it;
+	And here, to pledge my vow, I give my hand.
+
+	[He gives his hand to WARWICK]
+
+KING LEWIS XI	Why stay we now? These soldiers shall be levied,
+	And thou, Lord Bourbon, our high admiral,
+	Shalt waft them over with our royal fleet.
+	I long till Edward fall by war's mischance,
+	For mocking marriage with a dame of France.
+
+	[Exeunt all but WARWICK]
+
+WARWICK	I came from Edward as ambassador,
+	But I return his sworn and mortal foe:
+	Matter of marriage was the charge he gave me,
+	But dreadful war shall answer his demand.
+	Had he none else to make a stale but me?
+	Then none but I shall turn his jest to sorrow.
+	I was the chief that raised him to the crown,
+	And I'll be chief to bring him down again:
+	Not that I pity Henry's misery,
+	But seek revenge on Edward's mockery.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, SOMERSET, and MONTAGUE]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Now tell me, brother Clarence, what think you
+	Of this new marriage with the Lady Grey?
+	Hath not our brother made a worthy choice?
+
+CLARENCE	Alas, you know, 'tis far from hence to France;
+	How could he stay till Warwick made return?
+
+SOMERSET	My lords, forbear this talk; here comes the king.
+
+GLOUCESTER	And his well-chosen bride.
+
+CLARENCE	I mind to tell him plainly what I think.
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV, attended; QUEEN
+	ELIZABETH, PEMBROKE, STAFFORD, HASTINGS, and others]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Now, brother of Clarence, how like you our choice,
+	That you stand pensive, as half malcontent?
+
+CLARENCE	As well as Lewis of France, or the Earl of Warwick,
+	Which are so weak of courage and in judgment
+	That they'll take no offence at our abuse.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Suppose they take offence without a cause,
+	They are but Lewis and Warwick: I am Edward,
+	Your king and Warwick's, and must have my will.
+
+GLOUCESTER	And shall have your will, because our king:
+	Yet hasty marriage seldom proveth well.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Yea, brother Richard, are you offended too?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Not I:
+	No, God forbid that I should wish them sever'd
+	Whom God hath join'd together; ay, and 'twere pity
+	To sunder them that yoke so well together.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Setting your scorns and your mislike aside,
+	Tell me some reason why the Lady Grey
+	Should not become my wife and England's queen.
+	And you too, Somerset and Montague,
+	Speak freely what you think.
+
+CLARENCE	Then this is mine opinion: that King Lewis
+	Becomes your enemy, for mocking him
+	About the marriage of the Lady Bona.
+
+GLOUCESTER	And Warwick, doing what you gave in charge,
+	Is now dishonoured by this new marriage.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	What if both Lewis and Warwick be appeased
+	By such invention as I can devise?
+
+MONTAGUE	Yet, to have join'd with France in such alliance
+	Would more have strengthen'd this our commonwealth
+	'Gainst foreign storms than any home-bred marriage.
+
+HASTINGS	Why, knows not Montague that of itself
+	England is safe, if true within itself?
+
+MONTAGUE	But the safer when 'tis back'd with France.
+
+HASTINGS	'Tis better using France than trusting France:
+	Let us be back'd with God and with the seas
+	Which He hath given for fence impregnable,
+	And with their helps only defend ourselves;
+	In them and in ourselves our safety lies.
+
+CLARENCE	For this one speech Lord Hastings well deserves
+	To have the heir of the Lord Hungerford.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Ay, what of that? it was my will and grant;
+	And for this once my will shall stand for law.
+
+GLOUCESTER	And yet methinks your grace hath not done well,
+	To give the heir and daughter of Lord Scales
+	Unto the brother of your loving bride;
+	She better would have fitted me or Clarence:
+	But in your bride you bury brotherhood.
+
+CLARENCE	Or else you would not have bestow'd the heir
+	Of the Lord Bonville on your new wife's son,
+	And leave your brothers to go speed elsewhere.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Alas, poor Clarence! is it for a wife
+	That thou art malcontent? I will provide thee.
+
+CLARENCE	In choosing for yourself, you show'd your judgment,
+	Which being shallow, you give me leave
+	To play the broker in mine own behalf;
+	And to that end I shortly mind to leave you.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Leave me, or tarry, Edward will be king,
+	And not be tied unto his brother's will.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	My lords, before it pleased his majesty
+	To raise my state to title of a queen,
+	Do me but right, and you must all confess
+	That I was not ignoble of descent;
+	And meaner than myself have had like fortune.
+	But as this title honours me and mine,
+	So your dislike, to whom I would be pleasing,
+	Doth cloud my joys with danger and with sorrow.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	My love, forbear to fawn upon their frowns:
+	What danger or what sorrow can befall thee,
+	So long as Edward is thy constant friend,
+	And their true sovereign, whom they must obey?
+	Nay, whom they shall obey, and love thee too,
+	Unless they seek for hatred at my hands;
+	Which if they do, yet will I keep thee safe,
+	And they shall feel the vengeance of my wrath.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside]  I hear, yet say not much, but think the more.
+
+	[Enter a Post]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Now, messenger, what letters or what news
+	From France?
+
+Post	My sovereign liege, no letters; and few words,
+	But such as I, without your special pardon,
+	Dare not relate.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Go to, we pardon thee: therefore, in brief,
+	Tell me their words as near as thou canst guess them.
+	What answer makes King Lewis unto our letters?
+
+Post	At my depart, these were his very words:
+	'Go tell false Edward, thy supposed king,
+	That Lewis of France is sending over masquers
+	To revel it with him and his new bride.'
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Is Lewis so brave? belike he thinks me Henry.
+	But what said Lady Bona to my marriage?
+
+Post	These were her words, utter'd with mad disdain:
+	'Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower shortly,
+	I'll wear the willow garland for his sake.'
+
+KING EDWARD IV	I blame not her, she could say little less;
+	She had the wrong. But what said Henry's queen?
+	For I have heard that she was there in place.
+
+Post	'Tell him,' quoth she, 'my mourning weeds are done,
+	And I am ready to put armour on.'
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Belike she minds to play the Amazon.
+	But what said Warwick to these injuries?
+
+Post	He, more incensed against your majesty
+	Than all the rest, discharged me with these words:
+	'Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong,
+	And therefore I'll uncrown him ere't be long.'
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Ha! durst the traitor breathe out so proud words?
+	Well I will arm me, being thus forewarn'd:
+	They shall have wars and pay for their presumption.
+	But say, is Warwick friends with Margaret?
+
+Post	Ay, gracious sovereign; they are so link'd in
+	friendship
+	That young Prince Edward marries Warwick's daughter.
+
+CLARENCE	Belike the elder; Clarence will have the younger.
+	Now, brother king, farewell, and sit you fast,
+	For I will hence to Warwick's other daughter;
+	That, though I want a kingdom, yet in marriage
+	I may not prove inferior to yourself.
+	You that love me and Warwick, follow me.
+
+	[Exit CLARENCE, and SOMERSET follows]
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside]  Not I:
+	My thoughts aim at a further matter; I
+	Stay not for the love of Edward, but the crown.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Clarence and Somerset both gone to Warwick!
+	Yet am I arm'd against the worst can happen;
+	And haste is needful in this desperate case.
+	Pembroke and Stafford, you in our behalf
+	Go levy men, and make prepare for war;
+	They are already, or quickly will be landed:
+	Myself in person will straight follow you.
+
+	[Exeunt PEMBROKE and STAFFORD]
+
+	But, ere I go, Hastings and Montague,
+	Resolve my doubt. You twain, of all the rest,
+	Are near to Warwick by blood and by alliance:
+	Tell me if you love Warwick more than me?
+	If it be so, then both depart to him;
+	I rather wish you foes than hollow friends:
+	But if you mind to hold your true obedience,
+	Give me assurance with some friendly vow,
+	That I may never have you in suspect.
+
+MONTAGUE	So God help Montague as he proves true!
+
+HASTINGS	And Hastings as he favours Edward's cause!
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Now, brother Richard, will you stand by us?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ay, in despite of all that shall withstand you.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Why, so! then am I sure of victory.
+	Now therefore let us hence; and lose no hour,
+	Till we meet Warwick with his foreign power.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A plain in Warwickshire.
+
+
+	[Enter WARWICK and OXFORD, with French soldiers]
+
+WARWICK	Trust me, my lord, all hitherto goes well;
+	The common people by numbers swarm to us.
+
+	[Enter CLARENCE and SOMERSET]
+
+	But see where Somerset and Clarence come!
+	Speak suddenly, my lords, are we all friends?
+
+CLARENCE	Fear not that, my lord.
+
+WARWICK	Then, gentle Clarence, welcome unto Warwick;
+	And welcome, Somerset: I hold it cowardice
+	To rest mistrustful where a noble heart
+	Hath pawn'd an open hand in sign of love;
+	Else might I think that Clarence, Edward's brother,
+	Were but a feigned friend to our proceedings:
+	But welcome, sweet Clarence; my daughter shall be thine.
+	And now what rests but, in night's coverture,
+	Thy brother being carelessly encamp'd,
+	His soldiers lurking in the towns about,
+	And but attended by a simple guard,
+	We may surprise and take him at our pleasure?
+	Our scouts have found the adventure very easy:
+	That as Ulysses and stout Diomede
+	With sleight and manhood stole to Rhesus' tents,
+	And brought from thence the Thracian fatal steeds,
+	So we, well cover'd with the night's black mantle,
+	At unawares may beat down Edward's guard
+	And seize himself; I say not, slaughter him,
+	For I intend but only to surprise him.
+	You that will follow me to this attempt,
+	Applaud the name of Henry with your leader.
+
+	[They all cry, 'Henry!']
+
+	Why, then, let's on our way in silent sort:
+	For Warwick and his friends, God and Saint George!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Edward's camp, near Warwick.
+
+
+	[Enter three Watchmen, to guard KING EDWARD IV's tent]
+
+First Watchman	Come on, my masters, each man take his stand:
+	The king by this is set him down to sleep.
+
+Second Watchman	What, will he not to bed?
+
+First Watchman	Why, no; for he hath made a solemn vow
+	Never to lie and take his natural rest
+	Till Warwick or himself be quite suppress'd.
+
+Second Watchman	To-morrow then belike shall be the day,
+	If Warwick be so near as men report.
+
+Third Watchman	But say, I pray, what nobleman is that
+	That with the king here resteth in his tent?
+
+First Watchman	'Tis the Lord Hastings, the king's chiefest friend.
+
+Third Watchman	O, is it so? But why commands the king
+	That his chief followers lodge in towns about him,
+	While he himself keeps in the cold field?
+
+Second Watchman	'Tis the more honour, because more dangerous.
+
+Third Watchman	Ay, but give me worship and quietness;
+	I like it better than a dangerous honour.
+	If Warwick knew in what estate he stands,
+	'Tis to be doubted he would waken him.
+
+First Watchman	Unless our halberds did shut up his passage.
+
+Second Watchman	Ay, wherefore else guard we his royal tent,
+	But to defend his person from night-foes?
+
+	[Enter WARWICK, CLARENCE, OXFORD, SOMERSET, and
+	French soldiers, silent all]
+
+WARWICK	This is his tent; and see where stand his guard.
+	Courage, my masters! honour now or never!
+	But follow me, and Edward shall be ours.
+
+First Watchman	Who goes there?
+
+Second Watchman	Stay, or thou diest!
+
+	[WARWICK and the rest cry all, 'Warwick! Warwick!'
+	and set upon the Guard, who fly, crying, 'Arm!
+	arm!' WARWICK and the rest following them]
+
+	[The drum playing and trumpet sounding, reenter
+	WARWICK, SOMERSET, and the rest, bringing KING
+	EDWARD IV out in his gown, sitting in a chair.
+	RICHARD and HASTINGS fly over the stage]
+
+SOMERSET	What are they that fly there?
+
+WARWICK	Richard and Hastings: let them go; here is The duke.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	        The duke! Why, Warwick, when we parted,
+	Thou call'dst me king.
+
+WARWICK	Ay, but the case is alter'd:
+	When you disgraced me in my embassade,
+	Then I degraded you from being king,
+	And come now to create you Duke of York.
+	Alas! how should you govern any kingdom,
+	That know not how to use ambassadors,
+	Nor how to be contented with one wife,
+	Nor how to use your brothers brotherly,
+	Nor how to study for the people's welfare,
+	Nor how to shroud yourself from enemies?
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Yea, brother of Clarence, are thou here too?
+	Nay, then I see that Edward needs must down.
+	Yet, Warwick, in despite of all mischance,
+	Of thee thyself and all thy complices,
+	Edward will always bear himself as king:
+	Though fortune's malice overthrow my state,
+	My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel.
+
+WARWICK	Then, for his mind, be Edward England's king:
+
+	[Takes off his crown]
+
+	But Henry now shall wear the English crown,
+	And be true king indeed, thou but the shadow.
+	My Lord of Somerset, at my request,
+	See that forthwith Duke Edward be convey'd
+	Unto my brother, Archbishop of York.
+	When I have fought with Pembroke and his fellows,
+	I'll follow you, and tell what answer
+	Lewis and the Lady Bona send to him.
+	Now, for a while farewell, good Duke of York.
+
+	[They lead him out forcibly]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	What fates impose, that men must needs abide;
+	It boots not to resist both wind and tide.
+
+	[Exit, guarded]
+
+OXFORD	What now remains, my lords, for us to do
+	But march to London with our soldiers?
+
+WARWICK	Ay, that's the first thing that we have to do;
+	To free King Henry from imprisonment
+	And see him seated in the regal throne.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and RIVERS]
+
+RIVERS	Madam, what makes you in this sudden change?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Why brother Rivers, are you yet to learn
+	What late misfortune is befall'n King Edward?
+
+RIVERS	What! loss of some pitch'd battle against Warwick?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	No, but the loss of his own royal person.
+
+RIVERS	Then is my sovereign slain?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Ay, almost slain, for he is taken prisoner,
+	Either betray'd by falsehood of his guard
+	Or by his foe surprised at unawares:
+	And, as I further have to understand,
+	Is new committed to the Bishop of York,
+	Fell Warwick's brother and by that our foe.
+
+RIVERS	These news I must confess are full of grief;
+	Yet, gracious madam, bear it as you may:
+	Warwick may lose, that now hath won the day.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Till then fair hope must hinder life's decay.
+	And I the rather wean me from despair
+	For love of Edward's offspring in my womb:
+	This is it that makes me bridle passion
+	And bear with mildness my misfortune's cross;
+	Ay, ay, for this I draw in many a tear
+	And stop the rising of blood-sucking sighs,
+	Lest with my sighs or tears I blast or drown
+	King Edward's fruit, true heir to the English crown.
+
+RIVERS	But, madam, where is Warwick then become?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	I am inform'd that he comes towards London,
+	To set the crown once more on Henry's head:
+	Guess thou the rest; King Edward's friends must down,
+	But, to prevent the tyrant's violence,--
+	For trust not him that hath once broken faith,--
+	I'll hence forthwith unto the sanctuary,
+	To save at least the heir of Edward's right:
+	There shall I rest secure from force and fraud.
+	Come, therefore, let us fly while we may fly:
+	If Warwick take us we are sure to die.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	A park near Middleham Castle In Yorkshire.
+
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and STANLEY]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Now, my Lord Hastings and Sir William Stanley,
+	Leave off to wonder why I drew you hither,
+	Into this chiefest thicket of the park.
+	Thus stands the case: you know our king, my brother,
+	Is prisoner to the bishop here, at whose hands
+	He hath good usage and great liberty,
+	And, often but attended with weak guard,
+	Comes hunting this way to disport himself.
+	I have advertised him by secret means
+	That if about this hour he make his way
+	Under the colour of his usual game,
+	He shall here find his friends with horse and men
+	To set him free from his captivity.
+
+	[Enter KING EDWARD IV and a Huntsman with him]
+
+Huntsman	This way, my lord; for this way lies the game.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Nay, this way, man: see where the huntsmen stand.
+	Now, brother of Gloucester, Lord Hastings, and the rest,
+	Stand you thus close, to steal the bishop's deer?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Brother, the time and case requireth haste:
+	Your horse stands ready at the park-corner.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	But whither shall we then?
+
+HASTINGS	To Lynn, my lord,
+	And ship from thence to Flanders.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Well guess'd, believe me; for that was my meaning.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Stanley, I will requite thy forwardness.
+
+GLOUCESTER	But wherefore stay we? 'tis no time to talk.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Huntsman, what say'st thou? wilt thou go along?
+
+Huntsman	Better do so than tarry and be hang'd.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Come then, away; let's ha' no more ado.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Bishop, farewell: shield thee from Warwick's frown;
+	And pray that I may repossess the crown.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	London. The Tower.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, CLARENCE, WARWICK,
+	SOMERSET, HENRY OF RICHMOND, OXFORD, MONTAGUE, and
+	Lieutenant of the Tower]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Master lieutenant, now that God and friends
+	Have shaken Edward from the regal seat,
+	And turn'd my captive state to liberty,
+	My fear to hope, my sorrows unto joys,
+	At our enlargement what are thy due fees?
+
+Lieutenant	Subjects may challenge nothing of their sovereigns;
+	But if an humble prayer may prevail,
+	I then crave pardon of your majesty.
+
+KING HENRY VI	For what, lieutenant? for well using me?
+	Nay, be thou sure I'll well requite thy kindness,
+	For that it made my imprisonment a pleasure;
+	Ay, such a pleasure as incaged birds
+	Conceive when after many moody thoughts
+	At last by notes of household harmony
+	They quite forget their loss of liberty.
+	But, Warwick, after God, thou set'st me free,
+	And chiefly therefore I thank God and thee;
+	He was the author, thou the instrument.
+	Therefore, that I may conquer fortune's spite
+	By living low, where fortune cannot hurt me,
+	And that the people of this blessed land
+	May not be punish'd with my thwarting stars,
+	Warwick, although my head still wear the crown,
+	I here resign my government to thee,
+	For thou art fortunate in all thy deeds.
+
+WARWICK	Your grace hath still been famed for virtuous;
+	And now may seem as wise as virtuous,
+	By spying and avoiding fortune's malice,
+	For few men rightly temper with the stars:
+	Yet in this one thing let me blame your grace,
+	For choosing me when Clarence is in place.
+
+CLARENCE	No, Warwick, thou art worthy of the sway,
+	To whom the heavens in thy nativity
+	Adjudged an olive branch and laurel crown,
+	As likely to be blest in peace and war;
+	And therefore I yield thee my free consent.
+
+WARWICK	And I choose Clarence only for protector.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Warwick and Clarence give me both your hands:
+	Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts,
+	That no dissension hinder government:
+	I make you both protectors of this land,
+	While I myself will lead a private life
+	And in devotion spend my latter days,
+	To sin's rebuke and my Creator's praise.
+
+WARWICK	What answers Clarence to his sovereign's will?
+
+CLARENCE	That he consents, if Warwick yield consent;
+	For on thy fortune I repose myself.
+
+WARWICK	Why, then, though loath, yet must I be content:
+	We'll yoke together, like a double shadow
+	To Henry's body, and supply his place;
+	I mean, in bearing weight of government,
+	While he enjoys the honour and his ease.
+	And, Clarence, now then it is more than needful
+	Forthwith that Edward be pronounced a traitor,
+	And all his lands and goods be confiscate.
+
+CLARENCE	What else? and that succession be determined.
+
+WARWICK	Ay, therein Clarence shall not want his part.
+
+KING HENRY VI	But, with the first of all your chief affairs,
+	Let me entreat, for I command no more,
+	That Margaret your queen and my son Edward
+	Be sent for, to return from France with speed;
+	For, till I see them here, by doubtful fear
+	My joy of liberty is half eclipsed.
+
+CLARENCE	It shall be done, my sovereign, with all speed.
+
+KING HENRY VI	My Lord of Somerset, what youth is that,
+	Of whom you seem to have so tender care?
+
+SOMERSET	My liege, it is young Henry, earl of Richmond.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Come hither, England's hope.
+
+	[Lays his hand on his head]
+
+		       If secret powers
+	Suggest but truth to my divining thoughts,
+	This pretty lad will prove our country's bliss.
+	His looks are full of peaceful majesty,
+	His head by nature framed to wear a crown,
+	His hand to wield a sceptre, and himself
+	Likely in time to bless a regal throne.
+	Make much of him, my lords, for this is he
+	Must help you more than you are hurt by me.
+
+	[Enter a Post]
+
+WARWICK	What news, my friend?
+
+Post	That Edward is escaped from your brother,
+	And fled, as he hears since, to Burgundy.
+
+WARWICK	Unsavoury news! but how made he escape?
+
+Post	He was convey'd by Richard Duke of Gloucester
+	And the Lord Hastings, who attended him
+	In secret ambush on the forest side
+	And from the bishop's huntsmen rescued him;
+	For hunting was his daily exercise.
+
+WARWICK	My brother was too careless of his charge.
+	But let us hence, my sovereign, to provide
+	A salve for any sore that may betide.
+
+	[Exeunt all but SOMERSET, HENRY OF RICHMOND, and OXFORD]
+
+SOMERSET	My lord, I like not of this flight of Edward's;
+	For doubtless Burgundy will yield him help,
+	And we shall have more wars before 't be long.
+	As Henry's late presaging prophecy
+	Did glad my heart with hope of this young Richmond,
+	So doth my heart misgive me, in these conflicts
+	What may befall him, to his harm and ours:
+	Therefore, Lord Oxford, to prevent the worst,
+	Forthwith we'll send him hence to Brittany,
+	Till storms be past of civil enmity.
+
+OXFORD	Ay, for if Edward repossess the crown,
+	'Tis like that Richmond with the rest shall down.
+
+SOMERSET	It shall be so; he shall to Brittany.
+	Come, therefore, let's about it speedily.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Before York.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV, GLOUCESTER,
+	HASTINGS, and Soldiers]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Now, brother Richard, Lord Hastings, and the rest,
+	Yet thus far fortune maketh us amends,
+	And says that once more I shall interchange
+	My waned state for Henry's regal crown.
+	Well have we pass'd and now repass'd the seas
+	And brought desired help from Burgundy:
+	What then remains, we being thus arrived
+	From Ravenspurgh haven before the gates of York,
+	But that we enter, as into our dukedom?
+
+GLOUCESTER	The gates made fast! Brother, I like not this;
+	For many men that stumble at the threshold
+	Are well foretold that danger lurks within.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Tush, man, abodements must not now affright us:
+	By fair or foul means we must enter in,
+	For hither will our friends repair to us.
+
+HASTINGS	My liege, I'll knock once more to summon them.
+
+	[Enter, on the walls, the Mayor of York, and his Brethren]
+
+Mayor	My lords, we were forewarned of your coming,
+	And shut the gates for safety of ourselves;
+	For now we owe allegiance unto Henry.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	But, master mayor, if Henry be your king,
+	Yet Edward at the least is Duke of York.
+
+Mayor	True, my good lord; I know you for no less.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Why, and I challenge nothing but my dukedom,
+	As being well content with that alone.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside]  But when the fox hath once got in his nose,
+	He'll soon find means to make the body follow.
+
+HASTINGS	Why, master mayor, why stand you in a doubt?
+	Open the gates; we are King Henry's friends.
+
+Mayor	Ay, say you so? the gates shall then be open'd.
+
+	[They descend]
+
+GLOUCESTER	A wise stout captain, and soon persuaded!
+
+HASTINGS	The good old man would fain that all were well,
+	So 'twere not 'long of him; but being enter'd,
+	I doubt not, I, but we shall soon persuade
+	Both him and all his brothers unto reason.
+
+	[Enter the Mayor and two Aldermen, below]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	So, master mayor: these gates must not be shut
+	But in the night or in the time of war.
+	What! fear not, man, but yield me up the keys;
+
+	[Takes his keys]
+
+	For Edward will defend the town and thee,
+	And all those friends that deign to follow me.
+
+	[March. Enter MONTGOMERY, with drum and soldiers]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Brother, this is Sir John Montgomery,
+	Our trusty friend, unless I be deceived.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Welcome, Sir John! But why come you in arms?
+
+MONTAGUE	To help King Edward in his time of storm,
+	As every loyal subject ought to do.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Thanks, good Montgomery; but we now forget
+	Our title to the crown and only claim
+	Our dukedom till God please to send the rest.
+
+MONTAGUE	Then fare you well, for I will hence again:
+	I came to serve a king and not a duke.
+	Drummer, strike up, and let us march away.
+
+	[The drum begins to march]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Nay, stay, Sir John, awhile, and we'll debate
+	By what safe means the crown may be recover'd.
+
+MONTAGUE	What talk you of debating? in few words,
+	If you'll not here proclaim yourself our king,
+	I'll leave you to your fortune and be gone
+	To keep them back that come to succor you:
+	Why shall we fight, if you pretend no title?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Why, brother, wherefore stand you on nice points?
+
+KING EDWARD IV	When we grow stronger, then we'll make our claim:
+	Till then, 'tis wisdom to conceal our meaning.
+
+HASTINGS	Away with scrupulous wit! now arms must rule.
+
+GLOUCESTER	And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
+	Brother, we will proclaim you out of hand:
+	The bruit thereof will bring you many friends.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Then be it as you will; for 'tis my right,
+	And Henry but usurps the diadem.
+
+MONTAGUE	Ay, now my sovereign speaketh like himself;
+	And now will I be Edward's champion.
+
+HASTINGS	Sound trumpet; Edward shall be here proclaim'd:
+	Come, fellow-soldier, make thou proclamation.
+
+	[Flourish]
+
+Soldier	Edward the Fourth, by the grace of God, king of
+	England and France, and lord of Ireland, &c.
+
+MONTAGUE	And whosoe'er gainsays King Edward's right,
+	By this I challenge him to single fight.
+
+	[Throws down his gauntlet]
+
+All	Long live Edward the Fourth!
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Thanks, brave Montgomery; and thanks unto you all:
+	If fortune serve me, I'll requite this kindness.
+	Now, for this night, let's harbour here in York;
+	And when the morning sun shall raise his car
+	Above the border of this horizon,
+	We'll forward towards Warwick and his mates;
+	For well I wot that Henry is no soldier.
+	Ah, froward Clarence! how evil it beseems thee
+	To flatter Henry and forsake thy brother!
+	Yet, as we may, we'll meet both thee and Warwick.
+	Come on, brave soldiers: doubt not of the day,
+	And, that once gotten, doubt not of large pay.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, WARWICK, MONTAGUE,
+	CLARENCE, EXETER, and OXFORD]
+
+WARWICK	What counsel, lords? Edward from Belgia,
+	With hasty Germans and blunt Hollanders,
+	Hath pass'd in safety through the narrow seas,
+	And with his troops doth march amain to London;
+	And many giddy people flock to him.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Let's levy men, and beat him back again.
+
+CLARENCE	A little fire is quickly trodden out;
+	Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.
+
+WARWICK	In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends,
+	Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war;
+	Those will I muster up: and thou, son Clarence,
+	Shalt stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent,
+	The knights and gentlemen to come with thee:
+	Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham,
+	Northampton and in Leicestershire, shalt find
+	Men well inclined to hear what thou command'st:
+	And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well beloved,
+	In Oxfordshire shalt muster up thy friends.
+	My sovereign, with the loving citizens,
+	Like to his island girt in with the ocean,
+	Or modest Dian circled with her nymphs,
+	Shall rest in London till we come to him.
+	Fair lords, take leave and stand not to reply.
+	Farewell, my sovereign.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Farewell, my Hector, and my Troy's true hope.
+
+CLARENCE	In sign of truth, I kiss your highness' hand.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Well-minded Clarence, be thou fortunate!
+
+MONTAGUE	Comfort, my lord; and so I take my leave.
+
+OXFORD	And thus I seal my truth, and bid adieu.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Sweet Oxford, and my loving Montague,
+	And all at once, once more a happy farewell.
+
+WARWICK	Farewell, sweet lords: let's meet at Coventry.
+
+	[Exeunt all but KING HENRY VI and EXETER]
+
+KING HENRY VI	Here at the palace I will rest awhile.
+	Cousin of Exeter, what thinks your lordship?
+	Methinks the power that Edward hath in field
+	Should not be able to encounter mine.
+
+EXETER	The doubt is that he will seduce the rest.
+
+KING HENRY VI	That's not my fear; my meed hath got me fame:
+	I have not stopp'd mine ears to their demands,
+	Nor posted off their suits with slow delays;
+	My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds,
+	My mildness hath allay'd their swelling griefs,
+	My mercy dried their water-flowing tears;
+	I have not been desirous of their wealth,
+	Nor much oppress'd them with great subsidies.
+	Nor forward of revenge, though they much err'd:
+	Then why should they love Edward more than me?
+	No, Exeter, these graces challenge grace:
+	And when the lion fawns upon the lamb,
+	The lamb will never cease to follow him.
+
+	[Shout within. 'A Lancaster! A Lancaster!']
+
+EXETER	Hark, hark, my lord! what shouts are these?
+
+	[Enter KING EDWARD IV, GLOUCESTER, and soldiers]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Seize on the shame-faced Henry, bear him hence;
+	And once again proclaim us King of England.
+	You are the fount that makes small brooks to flow:
+	Now stops thy spring; my sea sha$l suck them dry,
+	And swell so much the higher by their ebb.
+	Hence with him to the Tower; let him not speak.
+
+	[Exeunt some with KING HENRY VI]
+
+	And, lords, towards Coventry bend we our course
+	Where peremptory Warwick now remains:
+	The sun shines hot; and, if we use delay,
+	Cold biting winter mars our hoped-for hay.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Away betimes, before his forces join,
+	And take the great-grown traitor unawares:
+	Brave warriors, march amain towards Coventry.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Coventry.
+
+
+	[Enter WARWICK, the Mayor of Coventry, two Messengers,
+	and others upon the walls]
+
+WARWICK	Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford?
+	How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow?
+
+First Messenger	By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward.
+
+WARWICK	How far off is our brother Montague?
+	Where is the post that came from Montague?
+
+Second Messenger	By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop.
+
+	[Enter SIR JOHN SOMERVILLE]
+
+WARWICK	Say, Somerville, what says my loving son?
+	And, by thy guess, how nigh is Clarence now?
+
+SOMERSET	At Southam I did leave him with his forces,
+	And do expect him here some two hours hence.
+
+	[Drum heard]
+
+WARWICK	Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his drum.
+
+SOMERSET	It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies:
+	The drum your honour hears marcheth from Warwick.
+
+WARWICK	Who should that be? belike, unlook'd-for friends.
+
+SOMERSET	They are at hand, and you shall quickly know.
+
+	[March: flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV, GLOUCESTER,
+	and soldiers]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle.
+
+GLOUCESTER	See how the surly Warwick mans the wall!
+
+WARWICK	O unbid spite! is sportful Edward come?
+	Where slept our scouts, or how are they seduced,
+	That we could hear no news of his repair?
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city gates,
+	Speak gentle words and humbly bend thy knee,
+	Call Edward king and at his hands beg mercy?
+	And he shall pardon thee these outrages.
+
+WARWICK	Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence,
+	Confess who set thee up and pluck'd thee own,
+	Call Warwick patron and be penitent?
+	And thou shalt still remain the Duke of York.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I thought, at least, he would have said the king;
+	Or did he make the jest against his will?
+
+WARWICK	Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give:
+	I'll do thee service for so good a gift.
+
+WARWICK	'Twas I that gave the kingdom to thy brother.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Why then 'tis mine, if but by Warwick's gift.
+
+WARWICK	Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight:
+	And weakling, Warwick takes his gift again;
+	And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	But Warwick's king is Edward's prisoner:
+	And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this:
+	What is the body when the head is off?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Alas, that Warwick had no more forecast,
+	But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten,
+	The king was slily finger'd from the deck!
+	You left poor Henry at the Bishop's palace,
+	And, ten to one, you'll meet him in the Tower.
+
+EDWARD	'Tis even so; yet you are Warwick still.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Come, Warwick, take the time; kneel down, kneel down:
+	Nay, when? strike now, or else the iron cools.
+
+WARWICK	I had rather chop this hand off at a blow,
+	And with the other fling it at thy face,
+	Than bear so low a sail, to strike to thee.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Sail how thou canst, have wind and tide thy friend,
+	This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair
+	Shall, whiles thy head is warm and new cut off,
+	Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood,
+	'Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more.'
+
+	[Enter OXFORD, with drum and colours]
+
+WARWICK	O cheerful colours! see where Oxford comes!
+
+OXFORD	Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!
+
+	[He and his forces enter the city]
+
+GLOUCESTER	The gates are open, let us enter too.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	So other foes may set upon our backs.
+	Stand we in good array; for they no doubt
+	Will issue out again and bid us battle:
+	If not, the city being but of small defence,
+	We'll quickly rouse the traitors in the same.
+
+WARWICK	O, welcome, Oxford! for we want thy help.
+
+	[Enter MONTAGUE with drum and colours]
+
+MONTAGUE	Montague, Montague, for Lancaster!
+
+	[He and his forces enter the city]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Thou and thy brother both shall buy this treason
+	Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	The harder match'd, the greater victory:
+	My mind presageth happy gain and conquest.
+
+	[Enter SOMERSET, with drum and colours]
+
+SOMERSET	Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!
+
+	[He and his forces enter the city]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset,
+	Have sold their lives unto the house of York;
+	And thou shalt be the third if this sword hold.
+
+	[Enter CLARENCE, with drum and colours]
+
+WARWICK	And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps along,
+	Of force enough to bid his brother battle;
+	With whom an upright zeal to right prevails
+	More than the nature of a brother's love!
+	Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt, if Warwick call.
+
+CLARENCE	Father of Warwick, know you what this means?
+
+	[Taking his red rose out of his hat]
+
+	Look here, I throw my infamy at thee
+	I will not ruinate my father's house,
+	Who gave his blood to lime the stones together,
+	And set up Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou, Warwick,
+	That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural,
+	To bend the fatal instruments of war
+	Against his brother and his lawful king?
+	Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath:
+	To keep that oath were more impiety
+	Than Jephthah's, when he sacrificed his daughter.
+	I am so sorry for my trespass made
+	That, to deserve well at my brother's hands,
+	I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe,
+	With resolution, wheresoe'er I meet thee--
+	As I will meet thee, if thou stir abroad--
+	To plague thee for thy foul misleading me.
+	And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee,
+	And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks.
+	Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends:
+	And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults,
+	For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Now welcome more, and ten times more beloved,
+	Than if thou never hadst deserved our hate.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Welcome, good Clarence; this is brotherlike.
+
+WARWICK	O passing traitor, perjured and unjust!
+
+KING EDWARD IV	What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town and fight?
+	Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?
+
+WARWICK	Alas, I am not coop'd here for defence!
+	I will away towards Barnet presently,
+	And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou darest.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way.
+	Lords, to the field; Saint George and victory!
+
+	[Exeunt King Edward and his company. March. Warwick
+	and his company follow]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A field of battle near Barnet.
+
+
+	[Alarum and excursions. Enter KING EDWARD IV, bringing
+	forth WARWICK wounded]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	So, lie thou there: die thou, and die our fear;
+	For Warwick was a bug that fear'd us all.
+	Now, Montague, sit fast; I seek for thee,
+	That Warwick's bones may keep thine company.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+WARWICK	Ah, who is nigh? come to me, friend or foe,
+	And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick?
+	Why ask I that? my mangled body shows,
+	My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows.
+	That I must yield my body to the earth
+	And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.
+	Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,
+	Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,
+	Under whose shade the ramping lion slept,
+	Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree
+	And kept low shrubs from winter's powerful wind.
+	These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's black veil,
+	Have been as piercing as the mid-day sun,
+	To search the secret treasons of the world:
+	The wrinkles in my brows, now filled with blood,
+	Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres;
+	For who lived king, but I could dig his grave?
+	And who durst mine when Warwick bent his brow?
+	Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood!
+	My parks, my walks, my manors that I had.
+	Even now forsake me, and of all my lands
+	Is nothing left me but my body's length.
+	Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?
+	And, live we how we can, yet die we must.
+
+	[Enter OXFORD and SOMERSET]
+
+SOMERSET	Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as we are.
+	We might recover all our loss again;
+	The queen from France hath brought a puissant power:
+	Even now we heard the news: ah, could'st thou fly!
+
+WARWICK	Why, then I would not fly. Ah, Montague,
+	If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand.
+	And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile!
+	Thou lovest me not; for, brother, if thou didst,
+	Thy tears would wash this cold congealed blood
+	That glues my lips and will not let me speak.
+	Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.
+
+SOMERSET	Ah, Warwick! Montague hath breathed his last;
+	And to the latest gasp cried out for Warwick,
+	And said 'Commend me to my valiant brother.'
+	And more he would have said, and more he spoke,
+	Which sounded like a clamour in a vault,
+	That mought not be distinguished; but at last
+	I well might hear, delivered with a groan,
+	'O, farewell, Warwick!'
+
+WARWICK	Sweet rest his soul! Fly, lords, and save yourselves;
+	For Warwick bids you all farewell to meet in heaven.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+OXFORD	Away, away, to meet the queen's great power!
+
+	[Here they bear away his body. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV in triumph; with
+	GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and the rest]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,
+	And we are graced with wreaths of victory.
+	But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,
+	I spy a black, suspicious, threatening cloud,
+	That will encounter with our glorious sun,
+	Ere he attain his easeful western bed:
+	I mean, my lords, those powers that the queen
+	Hath raised in Gallia have arrived our coast
+	And, as we hear, march on to fight with us.
+
+CLARENCE	A little gale will soon disperse that cloud
+	And blow it to the source from whence it came:
+	The very beams will dry those vapours up,
+	For every cloud engenders not a storm.
+
+GLOUCESTER	The queen is valued thirty thousand strong,
+	And Somerset, with Oxford fled to her:
+	If she have time to breathe be well assured
+	Her faction will be full as strong as ours.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	We are advertised by our loving friends
+	That they do hold their course toward Tewksbury:
+	We, having now the best at Barnet field,
+	Will thither straight, for willingness rids way;
+	And, as we march, our strength will be augmented
+	In every county as we go along.
+	Strike up the drum; cry 'Courage!' and away.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Plains near Tewksbury.
+
+
+	[March. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD,
+	SOMERSET, OXFORD, and soldiers]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,
+	But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
+	What though the mast be now blown overboard,
+	The cable broke, the holding-anchor lost,
+	And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood?
+	Yet lives our pilot still. Is't meet that he
+	Should leave the helm and like a fearful lad
+	With tearful eyes add water to the sea
+	And give more strength to that which hath too much,
+	Whiles, in his moan, the ship splits on the rock,
+	Which industry and courage might have saved?
+	Ah, what a shame! ah, what a fault were this!
+	Say Warwick was our anchor; what of that?
+	And Montague our topmost; what of him?
+	Our slaughter'd friends the tackles; what of these?
+	Why, is not Oxford here another anchor?
+	And Somerset another goodly mast?
+	The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings?
+	And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I
+	For once allow'd the skilful pilot's charge?
+	We will not from the helm to sit and weep,
+	But keep our course, though the rough wind say no,
+	From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wreck.
+	As good to chide the waves as speak them fair.
+	And what is Edward but ruthless sea?
+	What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit?
+	And Richard but a ragged fatal rock?
+	All these the enemies to our poor bark.
+	Say you can swim; alas, 'tis but a while!
+	Tread on the sand; why, there you quickly sink:
+	Bestride the rock; the tide will wash you off,
+	Or else you famish; that's a threefold death.
+	This speak I, lords, to let you understand,
+	If case some one of you would fly from us,
+	That there's no hoped-for mercy with the brothers
+	More than with ruthless waves, with sands and rocks.
+	Why, courage then! what cannot be avoided
+	'Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Methinks a woman of this valiant spirit
+	Should, if a coward heard her speak these words,
+	Infuse his breast with magnanimity
+	And make him, naked, foil a man at arms.
+	I speak not this as doubting any here
+	For did I but suspect a fearful man
+	He should have leave to go away betimes,
+	Lest in our need he might infect another
+	And make him of like spirit to himself.
+	If any such be here--as God forbid!--
+	Let him depart before we need his help.
+
+OXFORD	Women and children of so high a courage,
+	And warriors faint! why, 'twere perpetual shame.
+	O brave young prince! thy famous grandfather
+	Doth live again in thee: long mayst thou live
+	To bear his image and renew his glories!
+
+SOMERSET	And he that will not fight for such a hope.
+	Go home to bed, and like the owl by day,
+	If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Thanks, gentle Somerset; sweet Oxford, thanks.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	And take his thanks that yet hath nothing else.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand.
+	Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.
+
+OXFORD	 I thought no less: it is his policy
+	To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.
+
+SOMERSET	But he's deceived; we are in readiness.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	This cheers my heart, to see your forwardness.
+
+OXFORD	Here pitch our battle; hence we will not budge.
+
+	[Flourish and march. Enter KING EDWARD IV, GLOUCESTER,
+	CLARENCE, and soldiers]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood,
+	Which, by the heavens' assistance and your strength,
+	Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.
+	I need not add more fuel to your fire,
+	For well I wot ye blaze to burn them out
+	Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I should say
+	My tears gainsay; for every word I speak,
+	Ye see, I drink the water of mine eyes.
+	Therefore, no more but this: Henry, your sovereign,
+	Is prisoner to the foe; his state usurp'd,
+	His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain,
+	His statutes cancell'd and his treasure spent;
+	And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil.
+	You fight in justice: then, in God's name, lords,
+	Be valiant and give signal to the fight.
+
+	[Alarum. Retreat. Excursions. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE,
+	and soldiers; with QUEEN MARGARET, OXFORD, and
+	SOMERSET, prisoners]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Now here a period of tumultuous broils.
+	Away with Oxford to Hames Castle straight:
+	For Somerset, off with his guilty head.
+	Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak.
+
+OXFORD	For my part, I'll not trouble thee with words.
+
+SOMERSET	Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.
+
+	[Exeunt Oxford and Somerset, guarded]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	So part we sadly in this troublous world,
+	To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Is proclamation made, that who finds Edward
+	Shall have a high reward, and he his life?
+
+GLOUCESTER	It is: and lo, where youthful Edward comes!
+
+	[Enter soldiers, with PRINCE EDWARD]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him speak.
+	What! can so young a thorn begin to prick?
+	Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make
+	For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects,
+	And all the trouble thou hast turn'd me to?
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Speak like a subject, proud ambitious York!
+	Suppose that I am now my father's mouth;
+	Resign thy chair, and where I stand kneel thou,
+	Whilst I propose the selfsame words to thee,
+	Which traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Ah, that thy father had been so resolved!
+
+GLOUCESTER	That you might still have worn the petticoat,
+	And ne'er have stol'n the breech from Lancaster.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Let AEsop fable in a winter's night;
+	His currish riddles sort not with this place.
+
+GLOUCESTER	By heaven, brat, I'll plague ye for that word.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to men.
+
+GLOUCESTER	For God's sake, take away this captive scold.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Nay, take away this scolding crookback rather.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.
+
+CLARENCE	Untutor'd lad, thou art too malapert.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	I know my duty; you are all undutiful:
+	Lascivious Edward, and thou perjured George,
+	And thou mis-shapen Dick, I tell ye all
+	I am your better, traitors as ye are:
+	And thou usurp'st my father's right and mine.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Take that, thou likeness of this railer here.
+
+	[Stabs him]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Sprawl'st thou? take that, to end thy agony.
+
+	[Stabs him]
+
+CLARENCE	And there's for twitting me with perjury.
+
+	[Stabs him]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	O, kill me too!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Marry, and shall.
+
+	[Offers to kill her]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Hold, Richard, hold; for we have done too much.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Why should she live, to fill the world with words?
+
+KING EDWARD IV	What, doth she swoon? use means for her recovery.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Clarence, excuse me to the king my brother;
+	I'll hence to London on a serious matter:
+	Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news.
+
+CLARENCE	What? what?
+
+GLOUCESTER	The Tower, the Tower.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	O Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy mother, boy!
+	Canst thou not speak? O traitors! murderers!
+	They that stabb'd Caesar shed no blood at all,
+	Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
+	If this foul deed were by to equal it:
+	He was a man; this, in respect, a child:
+	And men ne'er spend their fury on a child.
+	What's worse than murderer, that I may name it?
+	No, no, my heart will burst, and if I speak:
+	And I will speak, that so my heart may burst.
+	Butchers and villains! bloody cannibals!
+	How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp'd!
+	You have no children, butchers! if you had,
+	The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorse:
+	But if you ever chance to have a child,
+	Look in his youth to have him so cut off
+	As, deathmen, you have rid this sweet young prince!
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Away with her; go, bear her hence perforce.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Nay, never bear me hence, dispatch me here,
+	Here sheathe thy sword, I'll pardon thee my death:
+	What, wilt thou not? then, Clarence, do it thou.
+
+CLARENCE	By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.
+
+CLARENCE	Didst thou not hear me swear I would not do it?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself:
+	'Twas sin before, but now 'tis charity.
+	What, wilt thou not? Where is that devil's butcher,
+	Hard-favour'd Richard? Richard, where art thou?
+	Thou art not here: murder is thy alms-deed;
+	Petitioners for blood thou ne'er put'st back.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her hence.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	So come to you and yours, as to this Prince!
+
+	[Exit, led out forcibly]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Where's Richard gone?
+
+CLARENCE	To London, all in post; and, as I guess,
+	To make a bloody supper in the Tower.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	He's sudden, if a thing comes in his head.
+	Now march we hence: discharge the common sort
+	With pay and thanks, and let's away to London
+	And see our gentle queen how well she fares:
+	By this, I hope, she hath a son for me.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	London. The Tower.
+
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY VI and GLOUCESTER, with the
+	Lieutenant, on the walls]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard?
+
+KING HENRY VI	Ay, my good lord:--my lord, I should say rather;
+	'Tis sin to flatter; 'good' was little better:
+	'Good Gloucester' and 'good devil' were alike,
+	And both preposterous; therefore, not 'good lord.'
+
+GLOUCESTER	Sirrah, leave us to ourselves: we must confer.
+
+	[Exit Lieutenant]
+
+KING HENRY VI	So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf;
+	So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece
+	And next his throat unto the butcher's knife.
+	What scene of death hath Roscius now to act?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind;
+	The thief doth fear each bush an officer.
+
+KING HENRY VI	The bird that hath been limed in a bush,
+	With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush;
+	And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird,
+	Have now the fatal object in my eye
+	Where my poor young was limed, was caught and kill'd.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete,
+	That taught his son the office of a fowl!
+	An yet, for all his wings, the fool was drown'd.
+
+KING HENRY VI	I, Daedalus; my poor boy, Icarus;
+	Thy father, Minos, that denied our course;
+	The sun that sear'd the wings of my sweet boy
+	Thy brother Edward, and thyself the sea
+	Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life.
+	Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words!
+	My breast can better brook thy dagger's point
+	Than can my ears that tragic history.
+	But wherefore dost thou come? is't for my life?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Think'st thou I am an executioner?
+
+KING HENRY VI	A persecutor, I am sure, thou art:
+	If murdering innocents be executing,
+	Why, then thou art an executioner.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Thy son I kill'd for his presumption.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Hadst thou been kill'd when first thou didst presume,
+	Thou hadst not lived to kill a son of mine.
+	And thus I prophesy, that many a thousand,
+	Which now mistrust no parcel of my fear,
+	And many an old man's sigh and many a widow's,
+	And many an orphan's water-standing eye--
+	Men for their sons, wives for their husbands,
+	And orphans for their parents timeless death--
+	Shall rue the hour that ever thou wast born.
+	The owl shriek'd at thy birth,--an evil sign;
+	The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time;
+	Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempest shook down trees;
+	The raven rook'd her on the chimney's top,
+	And chattering pies in dismal discords sung.
+	Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain,
+	And, yet brought forth less than a mother's hope,
+	To wit, an indigested and deformed lump,
+	Not like the fruit of such a goodly tree.
+	Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast born,
+	To signify thou camest to bite the world:
+	And, if the rest be true which I have heard,
+	Thou camest--
+
+GLOUCESTER	I'll hear no more: die, prophet in thy speech:
+
+	[Stabs him]
+
+	For this amongst the rest, was I ordain'd.
+
+KING HENRY VI	Ay, and for much more slaughter after this.
+	God forgive my sins, and pardon thee!
+
+	[Dies]
+
+GLOUCESTER	What, will the aspiring blood of Lancaster
+	Sink in the ground? I thought it would have mounted.
+	See how my sword weeps for the poor king's death!
+	O, may such purple tears be alway shed
+	From those that wish the downfall of our house!
+	If any spark of life be yet remaining,
+	Down, down to hell; and say I sent thee thither:
+
+	[Stabs him again]
+
+	I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.
+	Indeed, 'tis true that Henry told me of;
+	For I have often heard my mother say
+	I came into the world with my legs forward:
+	Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste,
+	And seek their ruin that usurp'd our right?
+	The midwife wonder'd and the women cried
+	'O, Jesus bless us, he is born with teeth!'
+	And so I was; which plainly signified
+	That I should snarl and bite and play the dog.
+	Then, since the heavens have shaped my body so,
+	Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it.
+	I have no brother, I am like no brother;
+	And this word 'love,' which graybeards call divine,
+	Be resident in men like one another
+	And not in me: I am myself alone.
+	Clarence, beware; thou keep'st me from the light:
+	But I will sort a pitchy day for thee;
+	For I will buz abroad such prophecies
+	That Edward shall be fearful of his life,
+	And then, to purge his fear, I'll be thy death.
+	King Henry and the prince his son are gone:
+	Clarence, thy turn is next, and then the rest,
+	Counting myself but bad till I be best.
+	I'll throw thy body in another room
+	And triumph, Henry, in thy day of doom.
+
+	[Exit, with the body]
+
+
+
+
+	3 KING HENRY VI
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV, QUEEN ELIZABETH,
+	CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, a Nurse with the
+	young Prince, and Attendants]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Once more we sit in England's royal throne,
+	Re-purchased with the blood of enemies.
+	What valiant foemen, like to autumn's corn,
+	Have we mow'd down, in tops of all their pride!
+	Three Dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd
+	For hardy and undoubted champions;
+	Two Cliffords, as the father and the son,
+	And two Northumberlands; two braver men
+	Ne'er spurr'd their coursers at the trumpet's sound;
+	With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and Montague,
+	That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion
+	And made the forest tremble when they roar'd.
+	Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat
+	And made our footstool of security.
+	Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy.
+	Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles and myself
+	Have in our armours watch'd the winter's night,
+	Went all afoot in summer's scalding heat,
+	That thou mightst repossess the crown in peace;
+	And of our labours thou shalt reap the gain.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside]  I'll blast his harvest, if your head were laid;
+	For yet I am not look'd on in the world.
+	This shoulder was ordain'd so thick to heave;
+	And heave it shall some weight, or break my back:
+	Work thou the way,--and thou shalt execute.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Clarence and Gloucester, love my lovely queen;
+	And kiss your princely nephew, brothers both.
+
+CLARENCE	The duty that I owe unto your majesty
+	I seal upon the lips of this sweet babe.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Thanks, noble Clarence; worthy brother, thanks.
+
+GLOUCESTER	And, that I love the tree from whence thou sprang'st,
+	Witness the loving kiss I give the fruit.
+	[Aside]  To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his master,
+	And cried 'all hail!' when as he meant all harm.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Now am I seated as my soul delights,
+	Having my country's peace and brothers' loves.
+
+CLARENCE	What will your grace have done with Margaret?
+	Reignier, her father, to the king of France
+	Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem,
+	And hither have they sent it for her ransom.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Away with her, and waft her hence to France.
+	And now what rests but that we spend the time
+	With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows,
+	Such as befits the pleasure of the court?
+	Sound drums and trumpets! farewell sour annoy!
+	For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+KING HENRY	the Fifth. (KING HENRY V)
+
+DUKE OF GLOUCESTER	(GLOUCESTER:)	|
+		|  brothers to the King.
+DUKE OF BEDFORD	(BEDFORD:)	|
+
+
+DUKE OF EXETER	uncle to the King. (EXETER:)
+
+DUKE OF YORK	cousin to the King. (YORK:)
+
+EARL OF SALISBURY	(SALISBURY:)
+
+EARL OF
+WESTMORELAND	(WESTMORELAND:)
+
+EARL OF WARWICK	(WARWICK:)
+
+BISHOP OF
+CANTERBURY	(CANTERBURY:)
+
+BISHOP OF ELY	(ELY:)
+
+EARL OF CAMBRIDGE	(CAMBRIDGE:)
+
+LORD SCROOP	(SCROOP:)
+
+SIR THOMAS GREY	(GREY:)
+
+
+SIR
+THOMAS ERPINGHAM	(ERPINGHAM:)	|
+		|
+GOWER		|
+		|
+FLUELLEN		|  Officers in King Henry's army.
+		|
+MACMORRIS		|
+		|
+JAMY		|
+
+
+BATES	|
+	|
+COURT	|  soldiers in the same.
+	|
+WILLIAMS	|
+
+
+PISTOL:
+
+NYM:
+
+BARDOLPH:
+
+	Boy
+	A Herald.
+
+CHARLES the Sixth	King of France. (KING OF FRANCE:) (FRENCH KING:)
+
+LEWIS	the Dauphin. (DAUPHIN:)
+
+DUKE OF BURGUNDY	(BURGUNDY:)
+
+DUKE OF ORLEANS	(ORLEANS:)
+
+DUKE OF BOURBON	(BOURBON:)
+
+	The Constable of France. (Constable:)
+
+
+RAMBURES	|
+	|  French Lords.
+GRANDPRE	|
+
+
+GOVERNOR	of Harfleur.
+
+MONTJOY	a French Herald.
+
+	Ambassadors to the King of England.
+
+ISABEL	Queen of France. (QUEEN ISABEL:)
+
+KATHARINE	daughter to Charles and Isabel.
+
+ALICE	a lady attending on her.
+
+	Hostess of a tavern in Eastcheap formerly
+	Mistress Quickly, and now married to Pistol.
+	Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Citizens,
+	Messengers, and Attendants. Chorus.
+	(Hostess:)
+	(First Ambassador:)
+	(Messenger:)
+	(French Soldier:)
+
+SCENE	England; afterwards France.
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+	PROLOGUE
+
+
+	[Enter Chorus]
+
+Chorus	O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
+	The brightest heaven of invention,
+	A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
+	And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
+	Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
+	Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels,
+	Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire
+	Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all,
+	The flat unraised spirits that have dared
+	On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
+	So great an object: can this cockpit hold
+	The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
+	Within this wooden O the very casques
+	That did affright the air at Agincourt?
+	O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
+	Attest in little place a million;
+	And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
+	On your imaginary forces work.
+	Suppose within the girdle of these walls
+	Are now confined two mighty monarchies,
+	Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
+	The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder:
+	Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
+	Into a thousand parts divide on man,
+	And make imaginary puissance;
+	Think when we talk of horses, that you see them
+	Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth;
+	For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
+	Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times,
+	Turning the accomplishment of many years
+	Into an hour-glass: for the which supply,
+	Admit me Chorus to this history;
+	Who prologue-like your humble patience pray,
+	Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. An ante-chamber in the KING'S palace.
+
+
+	[Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP OF ELY]
+
+CANTERBURY	My lord, I'll tell you; that self bill is urged,
+	Which in the eleventh year of the last king's reign
+	Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd,
+	But that the scambling and unquiet time
+	Did push it out of farther question.
+
+ELY	But how, my lord, shall we resist it now?
+
+CANTERBURY	It must be thought on. If it pass against us,
+	We lose the better half of our possession:
+	For all the temporal lands which men devout
+	By testament have given to the church
+	Would they strip from us; being valued thus:
+	As much as would maintain, to the king's honour,
+	Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights,
+	Six thousand and two hundred good esquires;
+	And, to relief of lazars and weak age,
+	Of indigent faint souls past corporal toil.
+	A hundred almshouses right well supplied;
+	And to the coffers of the king beside,
+	A thousand pounds by the year: thus runs the bill.
+
+ELY	This would drink deep.
+
+CANTERBURY	'Twould drink the cup and all.
+
+ELY	But what prevention?
+
+CANTERBURY	The king is full of grace and fair regard.
+
+ELY	And a true lover of the holy church.
+
+CANTERBURY	The courses of his youth promised it not.
+	The breath no sooner left his father's body,
+	But that his wildness, mortified in him,
+	Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment
+	Consideration, like an angel, came
+	And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him,
+	Leaving his body as a paradise,
+	To envelop and contain celestial spirits.
+	Never was such a sudden scholar made;
+	Never came reformation in a flood,
+	With such a heady currance, scouring faults
+	Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulness
+	So soon did lose his seat and all at once
+	As in this king.
+
+ELY	                  We are blessed in the change.
+
+CANTERBURY	Hear him but reason in divinity,
+	And all-admiring with an inward wish
+	You would desire the king were made a prelate:
+	Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs,
+	You would say it hath been all in all his study:
+	List his discourse of war, and you shall hear
+	A fearful battle render'd you in music:
+	Turn him to any cause of policy,
+	The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,
+	Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks,
+	The air, a charter'd libertine, is still,
+	And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears,
+	To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences;
+	So that the art and practic part of life
+	Must be the mistress to this theoric:
+	Which is a wonder how his grace should glean it,
+	Since his addiction was to courses vain,
+	His companies unletter'd, rude and shallow,
+	His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports,
+	And never noted in him any study,
+	Any retirement, any sequestration
+	From open haunts and popularity.
+
+ELY	The strawberry grows underneath the nettle
+	And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best
+	Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality:
+	And so the prince obscured his contemplation
+	Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt,
+	Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night,
+	Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.
+
+CANTERBURY	It must be so; for miracles are ceased;
+	And therefore we must needs admit the means
+	How things are perfected.
+
+ELY	But, my good lord,
+	How now for mitigation of this bill
+	Urged by the commons? Doth his majesty
+	Incline to it, or no?
+
+CANTERBURY	He seems indifferent,
+	Or rather swaying more upon our part
+	Than cherishing the exhibiters against us;
+	For I have made an offer to his majesty,
+	Upon our spiritual convocation
+	And in regard of causes now in hand,
+	Which I have open'd to his grace at large,
+	As touching France, to give a greater sum
+	Than ever at one time the clergy yet
+	Did to his predecessors part withal.
+
+ELY	How did this offer seem received, my lord?
+
+CANTERBURY	With good acceptance of his majesty;
+	Save that there was not time enough to hear,
+	As I perceived his grace would fain have done,
+	The severals and unhidden passages
+	Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms
+	And generally to the crown and seat of France
+	Derived from Edward, his great-grandfather.
+
+ELY	What was the impediment that broke this off?
+
+CANTERBURY	The French ambassador upon that instant
+	Craved audience; and the hour, I think, is come
+	To give him hearing: is it four o'clock?
+
+ELY	It is.
+
+CANTERBURY	Then go we in, to know his embassy;
+	Which I could with a ready guess declare,
+	Before the Frenchman speak a word of it.
+
+ELY	I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. The Presence chamber.
+
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY V, GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER,
+	WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and Attendants]
+
+KING HENRY V	Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury?
+
+EXETER	Not here in presence.
+
+KING HENRY V	Send for him, good uncle.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Shall we call in the ambassador, my liege?
+
+KING HENRY V	Not yet, my cousin: we would be resolved,
+	Before we hear him, of some things of weight
+	That task our thoughts, concerning us and France.
+
+	[Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP of ELY]
+
+CANTERBURY	God and his angels guard your sacred throne
+	And make you long become it!
+
+KING HENRY V	Sure, we thank you.
+	My learned lord, we pray you to proceed
+	And justly and religiously unfold
+	Why the law Salique that they have in France
+	Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim:
+	And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord,
+	That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading,
+	Or nicely charge your understanding soul
+	With opening titles miscreate, whose right
+	Suits not in native colours with the truth;
+	For God doth know how many now in health
+	Shall drop their blood in approbation
+	Of what your reverence shall incite us to.
+	Therefore take heed how you impawn our person,
+	How you awake our sleeping sword of war:
+	We charge you, in the name of God, take heed;
+	For never two such kingdoms did contend
+	Without much fall of blood; whose guiltless drops
+	Are every one a woe, a sore complaint
+	'Gainst him whose wrong gives edge unto the swords
+	That make such waste in brief mortality.
+	Under this conjuration, speak, my lord;
+	For we will hear, note and believe in heart
+	That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd
+	As pure as sin with baptism.
+
+CANTERBURY	Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers,
+	That owe yourselves, your lives and services
+	To this imperial throne. There is no bar
+	To make against your highness' claim to France
+	But this, which they produce from Pharamond,
+	'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant:'
+	'No woman shall succeed in Salique land:'
+	Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze
+	To be the realm of France, and Pharamond
+	The founder of this law and female bar.
+	Yet their own authors faithfully affirm
+	That the land Salique is in Germany,
+	Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe;
+	Where Charles the Great, having subdued the Saxons,
+	There left behind and settled certain French;
+	Who, holding in disdain the German women
+	For some dishonest manners of their life,
+	Establish'd then this law; to wit, no female
+	Should be inheritrix in Salique land:
+	Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala,
+	Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen.
+	Then doth it well appear that Salique law
+	Was not devised for the realm of France:
+	Nor did the French possess the Salique land
+	Until four hundred one and twenty years
+	After defunction of King Pharamond,
+	Idly supposed the founder of this law;
+	Who died within the year of our redemption
+	Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great
+	Subdued the Saxons, and did seat the French
+	Beyond the river Sala, in the year
+	Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say,
+	King Pepin, which deposed Childeric,
+	Did, as heir general, being descended
+	Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair,
+	Make claim and title to the crown of France.
+	Hugh Capet also, who usurped the crown
+	Of Charles the duke of Lorraine, sole heir male
+	Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great,
+	To find his title with some shows of truth,
+	'Through, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught,
+	Convey'd himself as heir to the Lady Lingare,
+	Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son
+	To Lewis the emperor, and Lewis the son
+	Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth,
+	Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet,
+	Could not keep quiet in his conscience,
+	Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied
+	That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother,
+	Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare,
+	Daughter to Charles the foresaid duke of Lorraine:
+	By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great
+	Was re-united to the crown of France.
+	So that, as clear as is the summer's sun.
+	King Pepin's title and Hugh Capet's claim,
+	King Lewis his satisfaction, all appear
+	To hold in right and title of the female:
+	So do the kings of France unto this day;
+	Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law
+	To bar your highness claiming from the female,
+	And rather choose to hide them in a net
+	Than amply to imbar their crooked titles
+	Usurp'd from you and your progenitors.
+
+KING HENRY V	May I with right and conscience make this claim?
+
+CANTERBURY	The sin upon my head, dread sovereign!
+	For in the book of Numbers is it writ,
+	When the man dies, let the inheritance
+	Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord,
+	Stand for your own; unwind your bloody flag;
+	Look back into your mighty ancestors:
+	Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's tomb,
+	From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit,
+	And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince,
+	Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy,
+	Making defeat on the full power of France,
+	Whiles his most mighty father on a hill
+	Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp
+	Forage in blood of French nobility.
+	O noble English. that could entertain
+	With half their forces the full Pride of France
+	And let another half stand laughing by,
+	All out of work and cold for action!
+
+ELY	Awake remembrance of these valiant dead
+	And with your puissant arm renew their feats:
+	You are their heir; you sit upon their throne;
+	The blood and courage that renowned them
+	Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege
+	Is in the very May-morn of his youth,
+	Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises.
+
+EXETER	Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth
+	Do all expect that you should rouse yourself,
+	As did the former lions of your blood.
+
+WESTMORELAND	They know your grace hath cause and means and might;
+	So hath your highness; never king of England
+	Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects,
+	Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England
+	And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France.
+
+CANTERBURY	O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege,
+	With blood and sword and fire to win your right;
+	In aid whereof we of the spiritualty
+	Will raise your highness such a mighty sum
+	As never did the clergy at one time
+	Bring in to any of your ancestors.
+
+KING HENRY V	We must not only arm to invade the French,
+	But lay down our proportions to defend
+	Against the Scot, who will make road upon us
+	With all advantages.
+
+CANTERBURY	They of those marches, gracious sovereign,
+	Shall be a wall sufficient to defend
+	Our inland from the pilfering borderers.
+
+KING HENRY V	We do not mean the coursing snatchers only,
+	But fear the main intendment of the Scot,
+	Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to us;
+	For you shall read that my great-grandfather
+	Never went with his forces into France
+	But that the Scot on his unfurnish'd kingdom
+	Came pouring, like the tide into a breach,
+	With ample and brim fulness of his force,
+	Galling the gleaned land with hot assays,
+	Girding with grievous siege castles and towns;
+	That England, being empty of defence,
+	Hath shook and trembled at the ill neighbourhood.
+
+CANTERBURY	She hath been then more fear'd than harm'd, my liege;
+	For hear her but exampled by herself:
+	When all her chivalry hath been in France
+	And she a mourning widow of her nobles,
+	She hath herself not only well defended
+	But taken and impounded as a stray
+	The King of Scots; whom she did send to France,
+	To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings
+	And make her chronicle as rich with praise
+	As is the ooze and bottom of the sea
+	With sunken wreck and sunless treasuries.
+
+WESTMORELAND	But there's a saying very old and true,
+	'If that you will France win,
+	Then with Scotland first begin:'
+	For once the eagle England being in prey,
+	To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot
+	Comes sneaking and so sucks her princely eggs,
+	Playing the mouse in absence of the cat,
+	To tear and havoc more than she can eat.
+
+EXETER	It follows then the cat must stay at home:
+	Yet that is but a crush'd necessity,
+	Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries,
+	And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves.
+	While that the armed hand doth fight abroad,
+	The advised head defends itself at home;
+	For government, though high and low and lower,
+	Put into parts, doth keep in one consent,
+	Congreeing in a full and natural close,
+	Like music.
+
+CANTERBURY	          Therefore doth heaven divide
+	The state of man in divers functions,
+	Setting endeavour in continual motion;
+	To which is fixed, as an aim or butt,
+	Obedience: for so work the honey-bees,
+	Creatures that by a rule in nature teach
+	The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
+	They have a king and officers of sorts;
+	Where some, like magistrates, correct at home,
+	Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad,
+	Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings,
+	Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds,
+	Which pillage they with merry march bring home
+	To the tent-royal of their emperor;
+	Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
+	The singing masons building roofs of gold,
+	The civil citizens kneading up the honey,
+	The poor mechanic porters crowding in
+	Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate,
+	The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,
+	Delivering o'er to executors pale
+	The lazy yawning drone. I this infer,
+	That many things, having full reference
+	To one consent, may work contrariously:
+	As many arrows, loosed several ways,
+	Come to one mark; as many ways meet in one town;
+	As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea;
+	As many lines close in the dial's centre;
+	So may a thousand actions, once afoot.
+	End in one purpose, and be all well borne
+	Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege.
+	Divide your happy England into four;
+	Whereof take you one quarter into France,
+	And you withal shall make all Gallia shake.
+	If we, with thrice such powers left at home,
+	Cannot defend our own doors from the dog,
+	Let us be worried and our nation lose
+	The name of hardiness and policy.
+
+KING HENRY V	Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin.
+
+	[Exeunt some Attendants]
+
+	Now are we well resolved; and, by God's help,
+	And yours, the noble sinews of our power,
+	France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe,
+	Or break it all to pieces: or there we'll sit,
+	Ruling in large and ample empery
+	O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms,
+	Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn,
+	Tombless, with no remembrance over them:
+	Either our history shall with full mouth
+	Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave,
+	Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth,
+	Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph.
+
+	[Enter Ambassadors of France]
+
+	Now are we well prepared to know the pleasure
+	Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear
+	Your greeting is from him, not from the king.
+
+First Ambassador	May't please your majesty to give us leave
+	Freely to render what we have in charge;
+	Or shall we sparingly show you far off
+	The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy?
+
+KING HENRY V	We are no tyrant, but a Christian king;
+	Unto whose grace our passion is as subject
+	As are our wretches fetter'd in our prisons:
+	Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness
+	Tell us the Dauphin's mind.
+
+First Ambassador	Thus, then, in few.
+	Your highness, lately sending into France,
+	Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right
+	Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third.
+	In answer of which claim, the prince our master
+	Says that you savour too much of your youth,
+	And bids you be advised there's nought in France
+	That can be with a nimble galliard won;
+	You cannot revel into dukedoms there.
+	He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit,
+	This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this,
+	Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim
+	Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks.
+
+KING HENRY V	What treasure, uncle?
+
+EXETER	Tennis-balls, my liege.
+
+KING HENRY V	We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us;
+	His present and your pains we thank you for:
+	When we have march'd our rackets to these balls,
+	We will, in France, by God's grace, play a set
+	Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard.
+	Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler
+	That all the courts of France will be disturb'd
+	With chaces. And we understand him well,
+	How he comes o'er us with our wilder days,
+	Not measuring what use we made of them.
+	We never valued this poor seat of England;
+	And therefore, living hence, did give ourself
+	To barbarous licence; as 'tis ever common
+	That men are merriest when they are from home.
+	But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state,
+	Be like a king and show my sail of greatness
+	When I do rouse me in my throne of France:
+	For that I have laid by my majesty
+	And plodded like a man for working-days,
+	But I will rise there with so full a glory
+	That I will dazzle all the eyes of France,
+	Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us.
+	And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his
+	Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones; and his soul
+	Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance
+	That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows
+	Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands;
+	Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down;
+	And some are yet ungotten and unborn
+	That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's scorn.
+	But this lies all within the will of God,
+	To whom I do appeal; and in whose name
+	Tell you the Dauphin I am coming on,
+	To venge me as I may and to put forth
+	My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause.
+	So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin
+	His jest will savour but of shallow wit,
+	When thousands weep more than did laugh at it.
+	Convey them with safe conduct. Fare you well.
+
+	[Exeunt Ambassadors]
+
+EXETER	This was a merry message.
+
+KING HENRY V	We hope to make the sender blush at it.
+	Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour
+	That may give furtherance to our expedition;
+	For we have now no thought in us but France,
+	Save those to God, that run before our business.
+	Therefore let our proportions for these wars
+	Be soon collected and all things thought upon
+	That may with reasonable swiftness add
+	More feathers to our wings; for, God before,
+	We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door.
+	Therefore let every man now task his thought,
+	That this fair action may on foot be brought.
+
+	[Exeunt. Flourish]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+	PROLOGUE
+
+
+	[Enter Chorus]
+
+Chorus	Now all the youth of England are on fire,
+	And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies:
+	Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought
+	Reigns solely in the breast of every man:
+	They sell the pasture now to buy the horse,
+	Following the mirror of all Christian kings,
+	With winged heels, as English Mercuries.
+	For now sits Expectation in the air,
+	And hides a sword from hilts unto the point
+	With crowns imperial, crowns and coronets,
+	Promised to Harry and his followers.
+	The French, advised by good intelligence
+	Of this most dreadful preparation,
+	Shake in their fear and with pale policy
+	Seek to divert the English purposes.
+	O England! model to thy inward greatness,
+	Like little body with a mighty heart,
+	What mightst thou do, that honour would thee do,
+	Were all thy children kind and natural!
+	But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out
+	A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills
+	With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men,
+	One, Richard Earl of Cambridge, and the second,
+	Henry Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third,
+	Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland,
+	Have, for the gilt of France,--O guilt indeed!
+	Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France;
+	And by their hands this grace of kings must die,
+	If hell and treason hold their promises,
+	Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton.
+	Linger your patience on; and we'll digest
+	The abuse of distance; force a play:
+	The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed;
+	The king is set from London; and the scene
+	Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton;
+	There is the playhouse now, there must you sit:
+	And thence to France shall we convey you safe,
+	And bring you back, charming the narrow seas
+	To give you gentle pass; for, if we may,
+	We'll not offend one stomach with our play.
+	But, till the king come forth, and not till then,
+	Unto Southampton do we shift our scene.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter Corporal NYM and Lieutenant BARDOLPH]
+
+BARDOLPH	Well met, Corporal Nym.
+
+NYM	Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.
+
+BARDOLPH	What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?
+
+NYM	For my part, I care not: I say little; but when
+	time shall serve, there shall be smiles; but that
+	shall be as it may. I dare not fight; but I will
+	wink and hold out mine iron: it is a simple one; but
+	what though? it will toast cheese, and it will
+	endure cold as another man's sword will: and
+	there's an end.
+
+BARDOLPH	I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and
+	we'll be all three sworn brothers to France: let it
+	be so, good Corporal Nym.
+
+NYM	Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the
+	certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I
+	will do as I may: that is my rest, that is the
+	rendezvous of it.
+
+BARDOLPH	It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell
+	Quickly: and certainly she did you wrong; for you
+	were troth-plight to her.
+
+NYM	I cannot tell: things must be as they may: men may
+	sleep, and they may have their throats about them at
+	that time; and some say knives have edges. It must
+	be as it may: though patience be a tired mare, yet
+	she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I
+	cannot tell.
+
+	[Enter PISTOL and Hostess]
+
+BARDOLPH	Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good
+	corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol!
+
+PISTOL	Base tike, call'st thou me host? Now, by this hand,
+	I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.
+
+Hostess	No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and
+	board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live
+	honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will
+	be thought we keep a bawdy house straight.
+
+	[NYM and PISTOL draw]
+
+	O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! we
+	shall see wilful adultery and murder committed.
+
+BARDOLPH	Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here.
+
+NYM	Pish!
+
+PISTOL	Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland!
+
+Hostess	Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword.
+
+NYM	Will you shog off? I would have you solus.
+
+PISTOL	'Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile!
+	The 'solus' in thy most mervailous face;
+	The 'solus' in thy teeth, and in thy throat,
+	And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy,
+	And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth!
+	I do retort the 'solus' in thy bowels;
+	For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up,
+	And flashing fire will follow.
+
+NYM	I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an
+	humour to knock you indifferently well. If you grow
+	foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my
+	rapier, as I may, in fair terms: if you would walk
+	off, I would prick your guts a little, in good
+	terms, as I may: and that's the humour of it.
+
+PISTOL	O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
+	The grave doth gape, and doting death is near;
+	Therefore exhale.
+
+BARDOLPH	Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes the
+	first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier.
+
+	[Draws]
+
+PISTOL	An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.
+	Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give:
+	Thy spirits are most tall.
+
+NYM	I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair
+	terms: that is the humour of it.
+
+PISTOL	'Couple a gorge!'
+	That is the word. I thee defy again.
+	O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get?
+	No; to the spital go,
+	And from the powdering tub of infamy
+	Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind,
+	Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse:
+	I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly
+	For the only she; and--pauca, there's enough. Go to.
+
+	[Enter the Boy]
+
+Boy	Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, and
+	you, hostess: he is very sick, and would to bed.
+	Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets, and
+	do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he's very ill.
+
+BARDOLPH	Away, you rogue!
+
+Hostess	By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of
+	these days. The king has killed his heart. Good
+	husband, come home presently.
+
+	[Exeunt Hostess and Boy]
+
+BARDOLPH	Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to
+	France together: why the devil should we keep
+	knives to cut one another's throats?
+
+PISTOL	Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on!
+
+NYM	You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting?
+
+PISTOL	Base is the slave that pays.
+
+NYM	That now I will have: that's the humour of it.
+
+PISTOL	As manhood shall compound: push home.
+
+	[They draw]
+
+BARDOLPH	By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll
+	kill him; by this sword, I will.
+
+PISTOL	Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.
+
+BARDOLPH	Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends:
+	an thou wilt not, why, then, be enemies with me too.
+	Prithee, put up.
+
+NYM	I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting?
+
+PISTOL	A noble shalt thou have, and present pay;
+	And liquor likewise will I give to thee,
+	And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood:
+	I'll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me;
+	Is not this just? for I shall sutler be
+	Unto the camp, and profits will accrue.
+	Give me thy hand.
+
+NYM	I shall have my noble?
+
+PISTOL	In cash most justly paid.
+
+NYM	Well, then, that's the humour of't.
+
+	[Re-enter Hostess]
+
+Hostess	As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir
+	John. Ah, poor heart! he is so shaked of a burning
+	quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to
+	behold. Sweet men, come to him.
+
+NYM	The king hath run bad humours on the knight; that's
+	the even of it.
+
+PISTOL	Nym, thou hast spoke the right;
+	His heart is fracted and corroborate.
+
+NYM	The king is a good king: but it must be as it may;
+	he passes some humours and careers.
+
+PISTOL	Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins we will live.
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Southampton. A council-chamber.
+
+
+	[Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND]
+
+BEDFORD	'Fore God, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors.
+
+EXETER	They shall be apprehended by and by.
+
+WESTMORELAND	How smooth and even they do bear themselves!
+	As if allegiance in their bosoms sat,
+	Crowned with faith and constant loyalty.
+
+BEDFORD	The king hath note of all that they intend,
+	By interception which they dream not of.
+
+EXETER	Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,
+	Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours,
+	That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell
+	His sovereign's life to death and treachery.
+
+	[Trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY V, SCROOP,
+	CAMBRIDGE, GREY, and Attendants]
+
+KING HENRY V	Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.
+	My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord of Masham,
+	And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts:
+	Think you not that the powers we bear with us
+	Will cut their passage through the force of France,
+	Doing the execution and the act
+	For which we have in head assembled them?
+
+SCROOP	No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best.
+
+KING HENRY V	I doubt not that; since we are well persuaded
+	We carry not a heart with us from hence
+	That grows not in a fair consent with ours,
+	Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish
+	Success and conquest to attend on us.
+
+CAMBRIDGE	Never was monarch better fear'd and loved
+	Than is your majesty: there's not, I think, a subject
+	That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness
+	Under the sweet shade of your government.
+
+GREY	True: those that were your father's enemies
+	Have steep'd their galls in honey and do serve you
+	With hearts create of duty and of zeal.
+
+KING HENRY V	We therefore have great cause of thankfulness;
+	And shall forget the office of our hand,
+	Sooner than quittance of desert and merit
+	According to the weight and worthiness.
+
+SCROOP	So service shall with steeled sinews toil,
+	And labour shall refresh itself with hope,
+	To do your grace incessant services.
+
+KING HENRY V	We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter,
+	Enlarge the man committed yesterday,
+	That rail'd against our person: we consider
+	it was excess of wine that set him on;
+	And on his more advice we pardon him.
+
+SCROOP	That's mercy, but too much security:
+	Let him be punish'd, sovereign, lest example
+	Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind.
+
+KING HENRY V	O, let us yet be merciful.
+
+CAMBRIDGE	So may your highness, and yet punish too.
+
+GREY	Sir,
+	You show great mercy, if you give him life,
+	After the taste of much correction.
+
+KING HENRY V	Alas, your too much love and care of me
+	Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch!
+	If little faults, proceeding on distemper,
+	Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye
+	When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd and digested,
+	Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man,
+	Though Cambridge, Scroop and Grey, in their dear care
+	And tender preservation of our person,
+	Would have him punished. And now to our French causes:
+	Who are the late commissioners?
+
+CAMBRIDGE	I one, my lord:
+	Your highness bade me ask for it to-day.
+
+SCROOP	So did you me, my liege.
+
+GREY	And I, my royal sovereign.
+
+KING HENRY V	Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is yours;
+	There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham; and, sir knight,
+	Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours:
+	Read them; and know, I know your worthiness.
+	My Lord of Westmoreland, and uncle Exeter,
+	We will aboard to night. Why, how now, gentlemen!
+	What see you in those papers that you lose
+	So much complexion? Look ye, how they change!
+	Their cheeks are paper. Why, what read you there
+	That hath so cowarded and chased your blood
+	Out of appearance?
+
+CAMBRIDGE	                  I do confess my fault;
+	And do submit me to your highness' mercy.
+
+
+GREY	|
+	|  To which we all appeal.
+SCROOP	|
+
+
+KING HENRY V	The mercy that was quick in us but late,
+	By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd:
+	You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy;
+	For your own reasons turn into your bosoms,
+	As dogs upon their masters, worrying you.
+	See you, my princes, and my noble peers,
+	These English monsters! My Lord of Cambridge here,
+	You know how apt our love was to accord
+	To furnish him with all appertinents
+	Belonging to his honour; and this man
+	Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspired,
+	And sworn unto the practises of France,
+	To kill us here in Hampton: to the which
+	This knight, no less for bounty bound to us
+	Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But, O,
+	What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop? thou cruel,
+	Ingrateful, savage and inhuman creature!
+	Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels,
+	That knew'st the very bottom of my soul,
+	That almost mightst have coin'd me into gold,
+	Wouldst thou have practised on me for thy use,
+	May it be possible, that foreign hire
+	Could out of thee extract one spark of evil
+	That might annoy my finger? 'tis so strange,
+	That, though the truth of it stands off as gross
+	As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it.
+	Treason and murder ever kept together,
+	As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
+	Working so grossly in a natural cause,
+	That admiration did not whoop at them:
+	But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in
+	Wonder to wait on treason and on murder:
+	And whatsoever cunning fiend it was
+	That wrought upon thee so preposterously
+	Hath got the voice in hell for excellence:
+	All other devils that suggest by treasons
+	Do botch and bungle up damnation
+	With patches, colours, and with forms being fetch'd
+	From glistering semblances of piety;
+	But he that temper'd thee bade thee stand up,
+	Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason,
+	Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor.
+	If that same demon that hath gull'd thee thus
+	Should with his lion gait walk the whole world,
+	He might return to vasty Tartar back,
+	And tell the legions 'I can never win
+	A soul so easy as that Englishman's.'
+	O, how hast thou with 'jealousy infected
+	The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful?
+	Why, so didst thou: seem they grave and learned?
+	Why, so didst thou: come they of noble family?
+	Why, so didst thou: seem they religious?
+	Why, so didst thou: or are they spare in diet,
+	Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger,
+	Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood,
+	Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement,
+	Not working with the eye without the ear,
+	And but in purged judgment trusting neither?
+	Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem:
+	And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot,
+	To mark the full-fraught man and best indued
+	With some suspicion. I will weep for thee;
+	For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like
+	Another fall of man. Their faults are open:
+	Arrest them to the answer of the law;
+	And God acquit them of their practises!
+
+EXETER	   I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of
+	Richard Earl of Cambridge.
+	I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of
+	Henry Lord Scroop of Masham.
+	I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of
+	Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland.
+
+SCROOP	Our purposes God justly hath discover'd;
+	And I repent my fault more than my death;
+	Which I beseech your highness to forgive,
+	Although my body pay the price of it.
+
+CAMBRIDGE	For me, the gold of France did not seduce;
+	Although I did admit it as a motive
+	The sooner to effect what I intended:
+	But God be thanked for prevention;
+	Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice,
+	Beseeching God and you to pardon me.
+
+GREY	Never did faithful subject more rejoice
+	At the discovery of most dangerous treason
+	Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself.
+	Prevented from a damned enterprise:
+	My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign.
+
+KING HENRY V	God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence.
+	You have conspired against our royal person,
+	Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd and from his coffers
+	Received the golden earnest of our death;
+	Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter,
+	His princes and his peers to servitude,
+	His subjects to oppression and contempt
+	And his whole kingdom into desolation.
+	Touching our person seek we no revenge;
+	But we our kingdom's safety must so tender,
+	Whose ruin you have sought, that to her laws
+	We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence,
+	Poor miserable wretches, to your death:
+	The taste whereof, God of his mercy give
+	You patience to endure, and true repentance
+	Of all your dear offences! Bear them hence.
+
+	[Exeunt CAMBRIDGE, SCROOP and GREY, guarded]
+
+	Now, lords, for France; the enterprise whereof
+	Shall be to you, as us, like glorious.
+	We doubt not of a fair and lucky war,
+	Since God so graciously hath brought to light
+	This dangerous treason lurking in our way
+	To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now
+	But every rub is smoothed on our way.
+	Then forth, dear countrymen: let us deliver
+	Our puissance into the hand of God,
+	Putting it straight in expedition.
+	Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance:
+	No king of England, if not king of France.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	London. Before a tavern.
+
+
+	[Enter PISTOL, Hostess, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy]
+
+Hostess	Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.
+
+PISTOL	No; for my manly heart doth yearn.
+	Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins:
+	Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead,
+	And we must yearn therefore.
+
+BARDOLPH	Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in
+	heaven or in hell!
+
+Hostess	Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's
+	bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A' made
+	a finer end and went away an it had been any
+	christom child; a' parted even just between twelve
+	and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after
+	I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with
+	flowers and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew
+	there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as
+	a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. 'How now,
+	sir John!' quoth I	'what, man! be o' good
+	cheer.' So a' cried out 'God, God, God!' three or
+	four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him a'
+	should not think of God; I hoped there was no need
+	to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So
+	a' bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my
+	hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as
+	cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and
+	they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and
+	upward, and all was as cold as any stone.
+
+NYM	They say he cried out of sack.
+
+Hostess	Ay, that a' did.
+
+BARDOLPH	And of women.
+
+Hostess	Nay, that a' did not.
+
+Boy	Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils
+	incarnate.
+
+Hostess	A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he
+	never liked.
+
+Boy	A' said once, the devil would have him about women.
+
+Hostess	A' did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then
+	he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon.
+
+Boy	Do you not remember, a' saw a flea stick upon
+	Bardolph's nose, and a' said it was a black soul
+	burning in hell-fire?
+
+BARDOLPH	Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire:
+	that's all the riches I got in his service.
+
+NYM	Shall we shog? the king will be gone from
+	Southampton.
+
+PISTOL	Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips.
+	Look to my chattels and my movables:
+	Let senses rule; the word is 'Pitch and Pay:'
+	Trust none;
+	For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes,
+	And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck:
+	Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor.
+	Go, clear thy crystals. Yoke-fellows in arms,
+	Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys,
+	To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck!
+
+Boy	And that's but unwholesome food they say.
+
+PISTOL	Touch her soft mouth, and march.
+
+BARDOLPH	Farewell, hostess.
+
+	[Kissing her]
+
+NYM	I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu.
+
+PISTOL	Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command.
+
+Hostess	Farewell; adieu.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	France. The KING'S palace.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter the FRENCH KING, the DAUPHIN, the
+	DUKES of BERRI and BRETAGNE, the Constable, and others]
+
+KING OF FRANCE	Thus comes the English with full power upon us;
+	And more than carefully it us concerns
+	To answer royally in our defences.
+	Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Bretagne,
+	Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth,
+	And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch,
+	To line and new repair our towns of war
+	With men of courage and with means defendant;
+	For England his approaches makes as fierce
+	As waters to the sucking of a gulf.
+	It fits us then to be as provident
+	As fear may teach us out of late examples
+	Left by the fatal and neglected English
+	Upon our fields.
+
+DAUPHIN	                  My most redoubted father,
+	It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe;
+	For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom,
+	Though war nor no known quarrel were in question,
+	But that defences, musters, preparations,
+	Should be maintain'd, assembled and collected,
+	As were a war in expectation.
+	Therefore, I say 'tis meet we all go forth
+	To view the sick and feeble parts of France:
+	And let us do it with no show of fear;
+	No, with no more than if we heard that England
+	Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance:
+	For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd,
+	Her sceptre so fantastically borne
+	By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth,
+	That fear attends her not.
+
+Constable	O peace, Prince Dauphin!
+	You are too much mistaken in this king:
+	Question your grace the late ambassadors,
+	With what great state he heard their embassy,
+	How well supplied with noble counsellors,
+	How modest in exception, and withal
+	How terrible in constant resolution,
+	And you shall find his vanities forespent
+	Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus,
+	Covering discretion with a coat of folly;
+	As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots
+	That shall first spring and be most delicate.
+
+DAUPHIN	Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable;
+	But though we think it so, it is no matter:
+	In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh
+	The enemy more mighty than he seems:
+	So the proportions of defence are fill'd;
+	Which of a weak or niggardly projection
+	Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting
+	A little cloth.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	                  Think we King Harry strong;
+	And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him.
+	The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us;
+	And he is bred out of that bloody strain
+	That haunted us in our familiar paths:
+	Witness our too much memorable shame
+	When Cressy battle fatally was struck,
+	And all our princes captiv'd by the hand
+	Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales;
+	Whiles that his mountain sire, on mountain standing,
+	Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun,
+	Saw his heroical seed, and smiled to see him,
+	Mangle the work of nature and deface
+	The patterns that by God and by French fathers
+	Had twenty years been made. This is a stem
+	Of that victorious stock; and let us fear
+	The native mightiness and fate of him.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	Ambassadors from Harry King of England
+	Do crave admittance to your majesty.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them.
+
+	[Exeunt Messenger and certain Lords]
+
+	You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends.
+
+DAUPHIN	Turn head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs
+	Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten
+	Runs far before them. Good my sovereign,
+	Take up the English short, and let them know
+	Of what a monarchy you are the head:
+	Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin
+	As self-neglecting.
+
+	[Re-enter Lords, with EXETER and train]
+
+KING OF FRANCE	From our brother England?
+
+EXETER	From him; and thus he greets your majesty.
+	He wills you, in the name of God Almighty,
+	That you divest yourself, and lay apart
+	The borrow'd glories that by gift of heaven,
+	By law of nature and of nations, 'long
+	To him and to his heirs; namely, the crown
+	And all wide-stretched honours that pertain
+	By custom and the ordinance of times
+	Unto the crown of France. That you may know
+	'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim,
+	Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days,
+	Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked,
+	He sends you this most memorable line,
+	In every branch truly demonstrative;
+	Willing to overlook this pedigree:
+	And when you find him evenly derived
+	From his most famed of famous ancestors,
+	Edward the Third, he bids you then resign
+	Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held
+	From him the native and true challenger.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	Or else what follows?
+
+EXETER	Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown
+	Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it:
+	Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming,
+	In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove,
+	That, if requiring fail, he will compel;
+	And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord,
+	Deliver up the crown, and to take mercy
+	On the poor souls for whom this hungry war
+	Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head
+	Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries
+	The dead men's blood, the pining maidens groans,
+	For husbands, fathers and betrothed lovers,
+	That shall be swallow'd in this controversy.
+	This is his claim, his threatening and my message;
+	Unless the Dauphin be in presence here,
+	To whom expressly I bring greeting too.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	For us, we will consider of this further:
+	To-morrow shall you bear our full intent
+	Back to our brother England.
+
+DAUPHIN	For the Dauphin,
+	I stand here for him: what to him from England?
+
+EXETER	Scorn and defiance; slight regard, contempt,
+	And any thing that may not misbecome
+	The mighty sender, doth he prize you at.
+	Thus says my king; an' if your father's highness
+	Do not, in grant of all demands at large,
+	Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty,
+	He'll call you to so hot an answer of it,
+	That caves and womby vaultages of France
+	Shall chide your trespass and return your mock
+	In second accent of his ordnance.
+
+DAUPHIN	Say, if my father render fair return,
+	It is against my will; for I desire
+	Nothing but odds with England: to that end,
+	As matching to his youth and vanity,
+	I did present him with the Paris balls.
+
+EXETER	He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it,
+	Were it the mistress-court of mighty Europe:
+	And, be assured, you'll find a difference,
+	As we his subjects have in wonder found,
+	Between the promise of his greener days
+	And these he masters now: now he weighs time
+	Even to the utmost grain: that you shall read
+	In your own losses, if he stay in France.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	To-morrow shall you know our mind at full.
+
+EXETER	Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king
+	Come here himself to question our delay;
+	For he is footed in this land already.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	You shall be soon dispatch's with fair conditions:
+	A night is but small breath and little pause
+	To answer matters of this consequence.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+	PROLOGUE.
+
+
+	[Enter Chorus]
+
+Chorus	Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies
+	In motion of no less celerity
+	Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen
+	The well-appointed king at Hampton pier
+	Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet
+	With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning:
+	Play with your fancies, and in them behold
+	Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing;
+	Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give
+	To sounds confused; behold the threaden sails,
+	Borne with the invisible and creeping wind,
+	Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea,
+	Breasting the lofty surge: O, do but think
+	You stand upon the ravage and behold
+	A city on the inconstant billows dancing;
+	For so appears this fleet majestical,
+	Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow:
+	Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy,
+	And leave your England, as dead midnight still,
+	Guarded with grandsires, babies and old women,
+	Either past or not arrived to pith and puissance;
+	For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd
+	With one appearing hair, that will not follow
+	These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France?
+	Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege;
+	Behold the ordnance on their carriages,
+	With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.
+	Suppose the ambassador from the French comes back;
+	Tells Harry that the king doth offer him
+	Katharine his daughter, and with her, to dowry,
+	Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms.
+	The offer likes not: and the nimble gunner
+	With linstock now the devilish cannon touches,
+
+	[Alarum, and chambers go off]
+
+	And down goes all before them. Still be kind,
+	And eke out our performance with your mind.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	France. Before Harfleur.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD,
+	GLOUCESTER, and Soldiers, with scaling-ladders]
+
+KING HENRY V	Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
+	Or close the wall up with our English dead.
+	In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
+	As modest stillness and humility:
+	But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
+	Then imitate the action of the tiger;
+	Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
+	Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
+	Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
+	Let pry through the portage of the head
+	Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
+	As fearfully as doth a galled rock
+	O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
+	Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
+	Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
+	Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
+	To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
+	Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
+	Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
+	Have in these parts from morn till even fought
+	And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
+	Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
+	That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
+	Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
+	And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
+	Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
+	The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
+	That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
+	For there is none of you so mean and base,
+	That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
+	I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
+	Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
+	Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
+	Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'
+
+	[Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and Boy]
+
+BARDOLPH	On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!
+
+NYM	Pray thee, corporal, stay: the knocks are too hot;
+	and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives:
+	the humour of it is too hot, that is the very
+	plain-song of it.
+
+PISTOL	The plain-song is most just: for humours do abound:
+	Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die;
+	And sword and shield,
+	In bloody field,
+	Doth win immortal fame.
+
+Boy	Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would give
+	all my fame for a pot of ale and safety.
+
+PISTOL	And I:
+	If wishes would prevail with me,
+	My purpose should not fail with me,
+	But thither would I hie.
+
+Boy	          As duly, but not as truly,
+	As bird doth sing on bough.
+
+	[Enter FLUELLEN]
+
+FLUELLEN	Up to the breach, you dogs! avaunt, you cullions!
+
+	[Driving them forward]
+
+PISTOL	Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould.
+	Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage,
+	Abate thy rage, great duke!
+	Good bawcock, bate thy rage; use lenity, sweet chuck!
+
+NYM	These be good humours! your honour wins bad humours.
+
+	[Exeunt all but Boy]
+
+Boy	As young as I am, I have observed these three
+	swashers. I am boy to them all three: but all they
+	three, though they would serve me, could not be man
+	to me; for indeed three such antics do not amount to
+	a man. For Bardolph, he is white-livered and
+	red-faced; by the means whereof a' faces it out, but
+	fights not. For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue
+	and a quiet sword; by the means whereof a' breaks
+	words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym, he hath
+	heard that men of few words are the best men; and
+	therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest a'
+	should be thought a coward: but his few bad words
+	are matched with as few good deeds; for a' never
+	broke any man's head but his own, and that was
+	against a post when he was drunk. They will steal
+	any thing, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a
+	lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for
+	three half pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn
+	brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a
+	fire-shovel: I knew by that piece of service the
+	men would carry coals. They would have me as
+	familiar with men's pockets as their gloves or their
+	handkerchers: which makes much against my manhood,
+	if I should take from another's pocket to put into
+	mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I
+	must leave them, and seek some better service:
+	their villany goes against my weak stomach, and
+	therefore I must cast it up.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following]
+
+GOWER	Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the
+	mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak with you.
+
+FLUELLEN	To the mines! tell you the duke, it is not so good
+	to come to the mines; for, look you, the mines is
+	not according to the disciplines of the war: the
+	concavities of it is not sufficient; for, look you,
+	the athversary, you may discuss unto the duke, look
+	you, is digt himself four yard under the
+	countermines: by Cheshu, I think a' will plough up
+	all, if there is not better directions.
+
+GOWER	The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the
+	siege is given, is altogether directed by an
+	Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i' faith.
+
+FLUELLEN	It is Captain Macmorris, is it not?
+
+GOWER	I think it be.
+
+FLUELLEN	By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world: I will
+	verify as much in his beard: be has no more
+	directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look
+	you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog.
+
+	[Enter MACMORRIS and Captain JAMY]
+
+GOWER	Here a' comes; and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with him.
+
+FLUELLEN	Captain Jamy is a marvellous falourous gentleman,
+	that is certain; and of great expedition and
+	knowledge in th' aunchient wars, upon my particular
+	knowledge of his directions: by Cheshu, he will
+	maintain his argument as well as any military man in
+	the world, in the disciplines of the pristine wars
+	of the Romans.
+
+JAMY	I say gud-day, Captain Fluellen.
+
+FLUELLEN	God-den to your worship, good Captain James.
+
+GOWER	How now, Captain Macmorris! have you quit the
+	mines? have the pioneers given o'er?
+
+MACMORRIS	By Chrish, la! tish ill done: the work ish give
+	over, the trompet sound the retreat. By my hand, I
+	swear, and my father's soul, the work ish ill done;
+	it ish give over: I would have blowed up the town, so
+	Chrish save me, la! in an hour: O, tish ill done,
+	tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done!
+
+FLUELLEN	Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you
+	voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you,
+	as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of
+	the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument,
+	look you, and friendly communication; partly to
+	satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction,
+	look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of
+	the military discipline; that is the point.
+
+JAMY	It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath:
+	and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick
+	occasion; that sall I, marry.
+
+MACMORRIS	It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me: the
+	day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the
+	king, and the dukes: it is no time to discourse. The
+	town is beseeched, and the trumpet call us to the
+	breach; and we talk, and, be Chrish, do nothing:
+	'tis shame for us all: so God sa' me, 'tis shame to
+	stand still; it is shame, by my hand: and there is
+	throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there
+	ish nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la!
+
+JAMY	By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves
+	to slomber, ay'll de gud service, or ay'll lig i'
+	the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and ay'll pay
+	't as valourously as I may, that sall I suerly do,
+	that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad full
+	fain hear some question 'tween you tway.
+
+FLUELLEN	Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your
+	correction, there is not many of your nation--
+
+MACMORRIS	Of my nation! What ish my nation? Ish a villain,
+	and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal. What ish
+	my nation? Who talks of my nation?
+
+FLUELLEN	Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is
+	meant, Captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall think
+	you do not use me with that affability as in
+	discretion you ought to use me, look you: being as
+	good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of
+	war, and in the derivation of my birth, and in
+	other particularities.
+
+MACMORRIS	I do not know you so good a man as myself: so
+	Chrish save me, I will cut off your head.
+
+GOWER	Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.
+
+JAMY	A! that's a foul fault.
+
+	[A parley sounded]
+
+GOWER	The town sounds a parley.
+
+FLUELLEN	Captain Macmorris, when there is more better
+	opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so
+	bold as to tell you I know the disciplines of war;
+	and there is an end.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. Before the gates.
+
+
+	[The Governor and some Citizens on the walls; the
+	English forces below. Enter KING HENRY and his train]
+
+KING HENRY V	How yet resolves the governor of the town?
+	This is the latest parle we will admit;
+	Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves;
+	Or like to men proud of destruction
+	Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier,
+	A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,
+	If I begin the battery once again,
+	I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
+	Till in her ashes she lie buried.
+	The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,
+	And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart,
+	In liberty of bloody hand shall range
+	With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass
+	Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants.
+	What is it then to me, if impious war,
+	Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends,
+	Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats
+	Enlink'd to waste and desolation?
+	What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause,
+	If your pure maidens fall into the hand
+	Of hot and forcing violation?
+	What rein can hold licentious wickedness
+	When down the hill he holds his fierce career?
+	We may as bootless spend our vain command
+	Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil
+	As send precepts to the leviathan
+	To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
+	Take pity of your town and of your people,
+	Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command;
+	Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
+	O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
+	Of heady murder, spoil and villany.
+	If not, why, in a moment look to see
+	The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
+	Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters;
+	Your fathers taken by the silver beards,
+	And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls,
+	Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,
+	Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused
+	Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
+	At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.
+	What say you? will you yield, and this avoid,
+	Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?
+
+GOVERNOR	Our expectation hath this day an end:
+	The Dauphin, whom of succors we entreated,
+	Returns us that his powers are yet not ready
+	To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great king,
+	We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy.
+	Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours;
+	For we no longer are defensible.
+
+KING HENRY V	Open your gates. Come, uncle Exeter,
+	Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain,
+	And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French:
+	Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle,
+	The winter coming on and sickness growing
+	Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais.
+	To-night in Harfleur we will be your guest;
+	To-morrow for the march are we addrest.
+
+	[Flourish. The King and his train enter the town]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The FRENCH KING's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter KATHARINE and ALICE]
+
+KATHARINE	Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le langage.
+
+ALICE	Un peu, madame.
+
+KATHARINE	Je te prie, m'enseignez: il faut que j'apprenne a
+	parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglois?
+
+ALICE	La main? elle est appelee de hand.
+
+KATHARINE	De hand. Et les doigts?
+
+ALICE	Les doigts? ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me
+	souviendrai. Les doigts? je pense qu'ils sont
+	appeles de fingres; oui, de fingres.
+
+KATHARINE	La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense
+	que je suis le bon ecolier; j'ai gagne deux mots
+	d'Anglois vitement. Comment appelez-vous les ongles?
+
+ALICE	Les ongles? nous les appelons de nails.
+
+KATHARINE	De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi, si je parle bien: de
+	hand, de fingres, et de nails.
+
+ALICE	C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglois.
+
+KATHARINE	Dites-moi l'Anglois pour le bras.
+
+ALICE	De arm, madame.
+
+KATHARINE	Et le coude?
+
+ALICE	De elbow.
+
+KATHARINE	De elbow. Je m'en fais la repetition de tous les
+	mots que vous m'avez appris des a present.
+
+ALICE	Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense.
+
+KATHARINE	Excusez-moi, Alice; ecoutez: de hand, de fingres,
+	de nails, de arma, de bilbow.
+
+ALICE	De elbow, madame.
+
+KATHARINE	O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! de elbow. Comment
+	appelez-vous le col?
+
+ALICE	De neck, madame.
+
+KATHARINE	De nick. Et le menton?
+
+ALICE	De chin.
+
+KATHARINE	De sin. Le col, de nick; de menton, de sin.
+
+ALICE	Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en verite, vous prononcez
+	les mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre.
+
+KATHARINE	Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grace de Dieu,
+	et en peu de temps.
+
+ALICE	N'avez vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai enseigne?
+
+KATHARINE	Non, je reciterai a vous promptement: de hand, de
+	fingres, de mails--
+
+ALICE	De nails, madame.
+
+KATHARINE	De nails, de arm, de ilbow.
+
+ALICE	Sauf votre honneur, de elbow.
+
+KATHARINE	Ainsi dis-je; de elbow, de nick, et de sin. Comment
+	appelez-vous le pied et la robe?
+
+ALICE	De foot, madame; et de coun.
+
+KATHARINE	De foot et de coun! O Seigneur Dieu! ce sont mots
+	de son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et
+	non pour les dames d'honneur d'user: je ne voudrais
+	prononcer ces mots devant les seigneurs de France
+	pour tout le monde. Foh! le foot et le coun!
+	Neanmoins, je reciterai une autre fois ma lecon
+	ensemble: de hand, de fingres, de nails, de arm, de
+	elbow, de nick, de sin, de foot, de coun.
+
+ALICE	Excellent, madame!
+
+KATHARINE	C'est assez pour une fois: allons-nous a diner.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter the KING OF FRANCE, the DAUPHIN, the DUKE oF
+	BOURBON, the Constable Of France, and others]
+
+KING OF FRANCE	'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme.
+
+Constable	And if he be not fought withal, my lord,
+	Let us not live in France; let us quit all
+	And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.
+
+DAUPHIN	O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us,
+	The emptying of our fathers' luxury,
+	Our scions, put in wild and savage stock,
+	Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds,
+	And overlook their grafters?
+
+BOURBON	Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards!
+	Mort de ma vie! if they march along
+	Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom,
+	To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm
+	In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.
+
+Constable	Dieu de batailles! where have they this mettle?
+	Is not their climate foggy, raw and dull,
+	On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale,
+	Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water,
+	A drench for sur-rein'd jades, their barley-broth,
+	Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
+	And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,
+	Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land,
+	Let us not hang like roping icicles
+	Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people
+	Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields!
+	Poor we may call them in their native lords.
+
+DAUPHIN	By faith and honour,
+	Our madams mock at us, and plainly say
+	Our mettle is bred out and they will give
+	Their bodies to the lust of English youth
+	To new-store France with bastard warriors.
+
+BOURBON	They bid us to the English dancing-schools,
+	And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos;
+	Saying our grace is only in our heels,
+	And that we are most lofty runaways.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	Where is Montjoy the herald? speed him hence:
+	Let him greet England with our sharp defiance.
+	Up, princes! and, with spirit of honour edged
+	More sharper than your swords, hie to the field:
+	Charles Delabreth, high constable of France;
+	You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri,
+	Alencon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy;
+	Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont,
+	Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconberg,
+	Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois;
+	High dukes, great princes, barons, lords and knights,
+	For your great seats now quit you of great shames.
+	Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land
+	With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur:
+	Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow
+	Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat
+	The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon:
+	Go down upon him, you have power enough,
+	And in a captive chariot into Rouen
+	Bring him our prisoner.
+
+Constable	This becomes the great.
+	Sorry am I his numbers are so few,
+	His soldiers sick and famish'd in their march,
+	For I am sure, when he shall see our army,
+	He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear
+	And for achievement offer us his ransom.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy.
+	And let him say to England that we send
+	To know what willing ransom he will give.
+	Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen.
+
+DAUPHIN	Not so, I do beseech your majesty.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	Be patient, for you shall remain with us.
+	Now forth, lord constable and princes all,
+	And quickly bring us word of England's fall.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	The English camp in Picardy.
+
+
+	[Enter GOWER and FLUELLEN, meeting]
+
+GOWER	How now, Captain Fluellen! come you from the bridge?
+
+FLUELLEN	I assure you, there is very excellent services
+	committed at the bridge.
+
+GOWER	Is the Duke of Exeter safe?
+
+FLUELLEN	The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon;
+	and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my
+	heart, and my duty, and my life, and my living, and
+	my uttermost power: he is not-God be praised and
+	blessed!--any hurt in the world; but keeps the
+	bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline.
+	There is an aunchient lieutenant there at the
+	pridge, I think in my very conscience he is as
+	valiant a man as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no
+	estimation in the world; but did see him do as
+	gallant service.
+
+GOWER	What do you call him?
+
+FLUELLEN	He is called Aunchient Pistol.
+
+GOWER	I know him not.
+
+	[Enter PISTOL]
+
+FLUELLEN	Here is the man.
+
+PISTOL	Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours:
+	The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.
+
+FLUELLEN	Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at
+	his hands.
+
+PISTOL	Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart,
+	And of buxom valour, hath, by cruel fate,
+	And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel,
+	That goddess blind,
+	That stands upon the rolling restless stone--
+
+FLUELLEN	By your patience, Aunchient Pistol. Fortune is
+	painted blind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to
+	signify to you that Fortune is blind; and she is
+	painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which
+	is the moral of it, that she is turning, and
+	inconstant, and mutability, and variation: and her
+	foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone,
+	which rolls, and rolls, and rolls: in good truth,
+	the poet makes a most excellent description of it:
+	Fortune is an excellent moral.
+
+PISTOL	Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him;
+	For he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must a' be:
+	A damned death!
+	Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free
+	And let not hemp his wind-pipe suffocate:
+	But Exeter hath given the doom of death
+	For pax of little price.
+	Therefore, go speak: the duke will hear thy voice:
+	And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut
+	With edge of penny cord and vile reproach:
+	Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite.
+
+FLUELLEN	Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning.
+
+PISTOL	Why then, rejoice therefore.
+
+FLUELLEN	Certainly, aunchient, it is not a thing to rejoice
+	at: for if, look you, he were my brother, I would
+	desire the duke to use his good pleasure, and put
+	him to execution; for discipline ought to be used.
+
+PISTOL	Die and be damn'd! and figo for thy friendship!
+
+FLUELLEN	It is well.
+
+PISTOL	The fig of Spain!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FLUELLEN	Very good.
+
+GOWER	Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal; I
+	remember him now; a bawd, a cutpurse.
+
+FLUELLEN	I'll assure you, a' uttered as brave words at the
+	bridge as you shall see in a summer's day. But it
+	is very well; what he has spoke to me, that is well,
+	I warrant you, when time is serve.
+
+GOWER	Why, 'tis a gull, a fool, a rogue, that now and then
+	goes to the wars, to grace himself at his return
+	into London under the form of a soldier. And such
+	fellows are perfect in the great commanders' names:
+	and they will learn you by rote where services were
+	done; at such and such a sconce, at such a breach,
+	at such a convoy; who came off bravely, who was
+	shot, who disgraced, what terms the enemy stood on;
+	and this they con perfectly in the phrase of war,
+	which they trick up with new-tuned oaths: and what
+	a beard of the general's cut and a horrid suit of
+	the camp will do among foaming bottles and
+	ale-washed wits, is wonderful to be thought on. But
+	you must learn to know such slanders of the age, or
+	else you may be marvellously mistook.
+
+FLUELLEN	I tell you what, Captain Gower; I do perceive he is
+	not the man that he would gladly make show to the
+	world he is: if I find a hole in his coat, I will
+	tell him my mind.
+
+	[Drum heard]
+
+	Hark you, the king is coming, and I must speak with
+	him from the pridge.
+
+	[Drum and colours. Enter KING HENRY, GLOUCESTER, and Soldiers]
+
+	God pless your majesty!
+
+KING HENRY V	How now, Fluellen! camest thou from the bridge?
+
+FLUELLEN	Ay, so please your majesty. The Duke of Exeter has
+	very gallantly maintained the pridge: the French is
+	gone off, look you; and there is gallant and most
+	prave passages; marry, th' athversary was have
+	possession of the pridge; but he is enforced to
+	retire, and the Duke of Exeter is master of the
+	pridge: I can tell your majesty, the duke is a
+	prave man.
+
+KING HENRY V	What men have you lost, Fluellen?
+
+FLUELLEN	The perdition of th' athversary hath been very
+	great, reasonable great: marry, for my part, I
+	think the duke hath lost never a man, but one that
+	is like to be executed for robbing a church, one
+	Bardolph, if your majesty know the man: his face is
+	all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames o'
+	fire: and his lips blows at his nose, and it is like
+	a coal of fire, sometimes plue and sometimes red;
+	but his nose is executed and his fire's out.
+
+KING HENRY V	We would have all such offenders so cut off: and we
+	give express charge, that in our marches through the
+	country, there be nothing compelled from the
+	villages, nothing taken but paid for, none of the
+	French upbraided or abused in disdainful language;
+	for when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the
+	gentler gamester is the soonest winner.
+
+	[Tucket. Enter MONTJOY]
+
+MONTJOY	You know me by my habit.
+
+KING HENRY V	Well then I know thee: what shall I know of thee?
+
+MONTJOY	My master's mind.
+
+KING HENRY V	Unfold it.
+
+MONTJOY	Thus says my king: Say thou to Harry of England:
+	Though we seemed dead, we did but sleep: advantage
+	is a better soldier than rashness. Tell him we
+	could have rebuked him at Harfleur, but that we
+	thought not good to bruise an injury till it were
+	full ripe: now we speak upon our cue, and our voice
+	is imperial: England shall repent his folly, see
+	his weakness, and admire our sufferance. Bid him
+	therefore consider of his ransom; which must
+	proportion the losses we have borne, the subjects we
+	have lost, the disgrace we have digested; which in
+	weight to re-answer, his pettiness would bow under.
+	For our losses, his exchequer is too poor; for the
+	effusion of our blood, the muster of his kingdom too
+	faint a number; and for our disgrace, his own
+	person, kneeling at our feet, but a weak and
+	worthless satisfaction. To this add defiance: and
+	tell him, for conclusion, he hath betrayed his
+	followers, whose condemnation is pronounced. So far
+	my king and master; so much my office.
+
+KING HENRY V	What is thy name? I know thy quality.
+
+MONTJOY	Montjoy.
+
+KING HENRY V	Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back.
+	And tell thy king I do not seek him now;
+	But could be willing to march on to Calais
+	Without impeachment: for, to say the sooth,
+	Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much
+	Unto an enemy of craft and vantage,
+	My people are with sickness much enfeebled,
+	My numbers lessened, and those few I have
+	Almost no better than so many French;
+	Who when they were in health, I tell thee, herald,
+	I thought upon one pair of English legs
+	Did march three Frenchmen. Yet, forgive me, God,
+	That I do brag thus! This your air of France
+	Hath blown that vice in me: I must repent.
+	Go therefore, tell thy master here I am;
+	My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk,
+	My army but a weak and sickly guard;
+	Yet, God before, tell him we will come on,
+	Though France himself and such another neighbour
+	Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Montjoy.
+	Go bid thy master well advise himself:
+	If we may pass, we will; if we be hinder'd,
+	We shall your tawny ground with your red blood
+	Discolour: and so Montjoy, fare you well.
+	The sum of all our answer is but this:
+	We would not seek a battle, as we are;
+	Nor, as we are, we say we will not shun it:
+	So tell your master.
+
+MONTJOY	I shall deliver so. Thanks to your highness.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+GLOUCESTER	I hope they will not come upon us now.
+
+KING HENRY V	We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs.
+	March to the bridge; it now draws toward night:
+	Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves,
+	And on to-morrow, bid them march away.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	The French camp, near Agincourt:
+
+
+	[Enter the Constable of France, the LORD RAMBURES,
+	ORLEANS, DAUPHIN, with others]
+
+Constable	Tut! I have the best armour of the world. Would it were day!
+
+ORLEANS	You have an excellent armour; but let my horse have his due.
+
+Constable	It is the best horse of Europe.
+
+ORLEANS	Will it never be morning?
+
+DAUPHIN	My lord of Orleans, and my lord high constable, you
+	talk of horse and armour?
+
+ORLEANS	You are as well provided of both as any prince in the world.
+
+DAUPHIN	What a long night is this! I will not change my
+	horse with any that treads but on four pasterns.
+	Ca, ha! he bounds from the earth, as if his
+	entrails were hairs; le cheval volant, the Pegasus,
+	chez les narines de feu! When I bestride him, I
+	soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth
+	sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his
+	hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.
+
+ORLEANS	He's of the colour of the nutmeg.
+
+DAUPHIN	And of the heat of the ginger. It is a beast for
+	Perseus: he is pure air and fire; and the dull
+	elements of earth and water never appear in him, but
+	only in Patient stillness while his rider mounts
+	him: he is indeed a horse; and all other jades you
+	may call beasts.
+
+Constable	Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and excellent horse.
+
+DAUPHIN	It is the prince of palfreys; his neigh is like the
+	bidding of a monarch and his countenance enforces homage.
+
+ORLEANS	No more, cousin.
+
+DAUPHIN	Nay, the man hath no wit that cannot, from the
+	rising of the lark to the lodging of the lamb, vary
+	deserved praise on my palfrey: it is a theme as
+	fluent as the sea: turn the sands into eloquent
+	tongues, and my horse is argument for them all:
+	'tis a subject for a sovereign to reason on, and for
+	a sovereign's sovereign to ride on; and for the
+	world, familiar to us and unknown to lay apart
+	their particular functions and wonder at him. I
+	once writ a sonnet in his praise and began thus:
+	'Wonder of nature,'--
+
+ORLEANS	I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress.
+
+DAUPHIN	Then did they imitate that which I composed to my
+	courser, for my horse is my mistress.
+
+ORLEANS	Your mistress bears well.
+
+DAUPHIN	Me well; which is the prescript praise and
+	perfection of a good and particular mistress.
+
+Constable	Nay, for methought yesterday your mistress shrewdly
+	shook your back.
+
+DAUPHIN	So perhaps did yours.
+
+Constable	Mine was not bridled.
+
+DAUPHIN	O then belike she was old and gentle; and you rode,
+	like a kern of Ireland, your French hose off, and in
+	your straight strossers.
+
+Constable	You have good judgment in horsemanship.
+
+DAUPHIN	Be warned by me, then: they that ride so and ride
+	not warily, fall into foul bogs. I had rather have
+	my horse to my mistress.
+
+Constable	I had as lief have my mistress a jade.
+
+DAUPHIN	I tell thee, constable, my mistress wears his own hair.
+
+Constable	I could make as true a boast as that, if I had a sow
+	to my mistress.
+
+DAUPHIN	'Le chien est retourne a son propre vomissement, et
+	la truie lavee au bourbier;' thou makest use of any thing.
+
+Constable	Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress, or any
+	such proverb so little kin to the purpose.
+
+RAMBURES	My lord constable, the armour that I saw in your tent
+	to-night, are those stars or suns upon it?
+
+Constable	Stars, my lord.
+
+DAUPHIN	Some of them will fall to-morrow, I hope.
+
+Constable	And yet my sky shall not want.
+
+DAUPHIN	That may be, for you bear a many superfluously, and
+	'twere more honour some were away.
+
+Constable	Even as your horse bears your praises; who would
+	trot as well, were some of your brags dismounted.
+
+DAUPHIN	Would I were able to load him with his desert! Will
+	it never be day? I will trot to-morrow a mile, and
+	my way shall be paved with English faces.
+
+Constable	I will not say so, for fear I should be faced out of
+	my way: but I would it were morning; for I would
+	fain be about the ears of the English.
+
+RAMBURES	Who will go to hazard with me for twenty prisoners?
+
+Constable	You must first go yourself to hazard, ere you have them.
+
+DAUPHIN	'Tis midnight; I'll go arm myself.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ORLEANS	The Dauphin longs for morning.
+
+RAMBURES	He longs to eat the English.
+
+Constable	I think he will eat all he kills.
+
+ORLEANS	By the white hand of my lady, he's a gallant prince.
+
+Constable	Swear by her foot, that she may tread out the oath.
+
+ORLEANS	He is simply the most active gentleman of France.
+
+Constable	Doing is activity; and he will still be doing.
+
+ORLEANS	He never did harm, that I heard of.
+
+Constable	Nor will do none to-morrow: he will keep that good name still.
+
+ORLEANS	I know him to be valiant.
+
+Constable	I was told that by one that knows him better than
+	you.
+
+ORLEANS	What's he?
+
+Constable	Marry, he told me so himself; and he said he cared
+	not who knew it
+
+ORLEANS	He needs not; it is no hidden virtue in him.
+
+Constable	By my faith, sir, but it is; never any body saw it
+	but his lackey: 'tis a hooded valour; and when it
+	appears, it will bate.
+
+ORLEANS	Ill will never said well.
+
+Constable	I will cap that proverb with 'There is flattery in friendship.'
+
+ORLEANS	And I will take up that with 'Give the devil his due.'
+
+Constable	Well placed: there stands your friend for the
+	devil: have at the very eye of that proverb with 'A
+	pox of the devil.'
+
+ORLEANS	You are the better at proverbs, by how much 'A
+	fool's bolt is soon shot.'
+
+Constable	You have shot over.
+
+ORLEANS	'Tis not the first time you were overshot.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	My lord high constable, the English lie within
+	fifteen hundred paces of your tents.
+
+Constable	Who hath measured the ground?
+
+Messenger	The Lord Grandpre.
+
+Constable	A valiant and most expert gentleman. Would it were
+	day! Alas, poor Harry of England! he longs not for
+	the dawning as we do.
+
+ORLEANS	What a wretched and peevish fellow is this king of
+	England, to mope with his fat-brained followers so
+	far out of his knowledge!
+
+Constable	If the English had any apprehension, they would run away.
+
+ORLEANS	That they lack; for if their heads had any
+	intellectual armour, they could never wear such heavy
+	head-pieces.
+
+RAMBURES	That island of England breeds very valiant
+	creatures; their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage.
+
+ORLEANS	Foolish curs, that run winking into the mouth of a
+	Russian bear and have their heads crushed like
+	rotten apples! You may as well say, that's a
+	valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.
+
+Constable	Just, just; and the men do sympathize with the
+	mastiffs in robustious and rough coming on, leaving
+	their wits with their wives: and then give them
+	great meals of beef and iron and steel, they will
+	eat like wolves and fight like devils.
+
+ORLEANS	Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of beef.
+
+Constable	Then shall we find to-morrow they have only stomachs
+	to eat and none to fight. Now is it time to arm:
+	come, shall we about it?
+
+ORLEANS	It is now two o'clock: but, let me see, by ten
+	We shall have each a hundred Englishmen.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+	PROLOGUE.
+
+
+	[Enter Chorus]
+
+Chorus	Now entertain conjecture of a time
+	When creeping murmur and the poring dark
+	Fills the wide vessel of the universe.
+	From camp to camp through the foul womb of night
+	The hum of either army stilly sounds,
+	That the fixed sentinels almost receive
+	The secret whispers of each other's watch:
+	Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames
+	Each battle sees the other's umber'd face;
+	Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs
+	Piercing the night's dull ear, and from the tents
+	The armourers, accomplishing the knights,
+	With busy hammers closing rivets up,
+	Give dreadful note of preparation:
+	The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll,
+	And the third hour of drowsy morning name.
+	Proud of their numbers and secure in soul,
+	The confident and over-lusty French
+	Do the low-rated English play at dice;
+	And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night
+	Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp
+	So tediously away. The poor condemned English,
+	Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
+	Sit patiently and inly ruminate
+	The morning's danger, and their gesture sad
+	Investing lank-lean; cheeks and war-worn coats
+	Presenteth them unto the gazing moon
+	So many horrid ghosts. O now, who will behold
+	The royal captain of this ruin'd band
+	Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,
+	Let him cry 'Praise and glory on his head!'
+	For forth he goes and visits all his host.
+	Bids them good morrow with a modest smile
+	And calls them brothers, friends and countrymen.
+	Upon his royal face there is no note
+	How dread an army hath enrounded him;
+	Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour
+	Unto the weary and all-watched night,
+	But freshly looks and over-bears attaint
+	With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty;
+	That every wretch, pining and pale before,
+	Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks:
+	A largess universal like the sun
+	His liberal eye doth give to every one,
+	Thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all,
+	Behold, as may unworthiness define,
+	A little touch of Harry in the night.
+	And so our scene must to the battle fly;
+	Where--O for pity!--we shall much disgrace
+	With four or five most vile and ragged foils,
+	Right ill-disposed in brawl ridiculous,
+	The name of Agincourt. Yet sit and see,
+	Minding true things by what their mockeries be.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The English camp at Agincourt.
+
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY, BEDFORD, and GLOUCESTER]
+
+KING HENRY V	Gloucester, 'tis true that we are in great danger;
+	The greater therefore should our courage be.
+	Good morrow, brother Bedford. God Almighty!
+	There is some soul of goodness in things evil,
+	Would men observingly distil it out.
+	For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers,
+	Which is both healthful and good husbandry:
+	Besides, they are our outward consciences,
+	And preachers to us all, admonishing
+	That we should dress us fairly for our end.
+	Thus may we gather honey from the weed,
+	And make a moral of the devil himself.
+
+	[Enter ERPINGHAM]
+
+	Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham:
+	A good soft pillow for that good white head
+	Were better than a churlish turf of France.
+
+ERPINGHAM	Not so, my liege: this lodging likes me better,
+	Since I may say 'Now lie I like a king.'
+
+KING HENRY V	'Tis good for men to love their present pains
+	Upon example; so the spirit is eased:
+	And when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt,
+	The organs, though defunct and dead before,
+	Break up their drowsy grave and newly move,
+	With casted slough and fresh legerity.
+	Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas. Brothers both,
+	Commend me to the princes in our camp;
+	Do my good morrow to them, and anon
+	Desire them an to my pavilion.
+
+GLOUCESTER	We shall, my liege.
+
+ERPINGHAM	Shall I attend your grace?
+
+KING HENRY V	No, my good knight;
+	Go with my brothers to my lords of England:
+	I and my bosom must debate awhile,
+	And then I would no other company.
+
+ERPINGHAM	The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry!
+
+	[Exeunt all but KING HENRY]
+
+KING HENRY V	God-a-mercy, old heart! thou speak'st cheerfully.
+
+	[Enter PISTOL]
+
+PISTOL	Qui va la?
+
+KING HENRY V	A friend.
+
+PISTOL	Discuss unto me; art thou officer?
+	Or art thou base, common and popular?
+
+KING HENRY V	I am a gentleman of a company.
+
+PISTOL	Trail'st thou the puissant pike?
+
+KING HENRY V	Even so. What are you?
+
+PISTOL	As good a gentleman as the emperor.
+
+KING HENRY V	Then you are a better than the king.
+
+PISTOL	The king's a bawcock, and a heart of gold,
+	A lad of life, an imp of fame;
+	Of parents good, of fist most valiant.
+	I kiss his dirty shoe, and from heart-string
+	I love the lovely bully. What is thy name?
+
+KING HENRY V	Harry le Roy.
+
+PISTOL	Le Roy! a Cornish name: art thou of Cornish crew?
+
+KING HENRY V	No, I am a Welshman.
+
+PISTOL	Know'st thou Fluellen?
+
+KING HENRY V	Yes.
+
+PISTOL	Tell him, I'll knock his leek about his pate
+	Upon Saint Davy's day.
+
+KING HENRY V	Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that day,
+	lest he knock that about yours.
+
+PISTOL	Art thou his friend?
+
+KING HENRY V	And his kinsman too.
+
+PISTOL	The figo for thee, then!
+
+KING HENRY V	I thank you: God be with you!
+
+PISTOL	My name is Pistol call'd.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING HENRY V	It sorts well with your fierceness.
+
+	[Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER]
+
+GOWER	Captain Fluellen!
+
+FLUELLEN	So! in the name of Jesu Christ, speak lower. It is
+	the greatest admiration of the universal world, when
+	the true and aunchient prerogatifes and laws of the
+	wars is not kept: if you would take the pains but to
+	examine the wars of Pompey the Great, you shall
+	find, I warrant you, that there is no tiddle toddle
+	nor pibble pabble in Pompey's camp; I warrant you,
+	you shall find the ceremonies of the wars, and the
+	cares of it, and the forms of it, and the sobriety
+	of it, and the modesty of it, to be otherwise.
+
+GOWER	Why, the enemy is loud; you hear him all night.
+
+FLUELLEN	If the enemy is an ass and a fool and a prating
+	coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we should also,
+	look you, be an ass and a fool and a prating
+	coxcomb? in your own conscience, now?
+
+GOWER	I will speak lower.
+
+FLUELLEN	I pray you and beseech you that you will.
+
+	[Exeunt GOWER and FLUELLEN]
+
+KING HENRY V	Though it appear a little out of fashion,
+	There is much care and valour in this Welshman.
+
+	[Enter three soldiers, JOHN BATES, ALEXANDER COURT,
+	and MICHAEL WILLIAMS]
+
+COURT	Brother John Bates, is not that the morning which
+	breaks yonder?
+
+BATES	I think it be: but we have no great cause to desire
+	the approach of day.
+
+WILLIAMS	We see yonder the beginning of the day, but I think
+	we shall never see the end of it. Who goes there?
+
+KING HENRY V	A friend.
+
+WILLIAMS	Under what captain serve you?
+
+KING HENRY V	Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.
+
+WILLIAMS	A good old commander and a most kind gentleman: I
+	pray you, what thinks he of our estate?
+
+KING HENRY V	Even as men wrecked upon a sand, that look to be
+	washed off the next tide.
+
+BATES	He hath not told his thought to the king?
+
+KING HENRY V	No; nor it is not meet he should. For, though I
+	speak it to you, I think the king is but a man, as I
+	am: the violet smells to him as it doth to me: the
+	element shows to him as it doth to me; all his
+	senses have but human conditions: his ceremonies
+	laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man; and
+	though his affections are higher mounted than ours,
+	yet, when they stoop, they stoop with the like
+	wing. Therefore when he sees reason of fears, as we
+	do, his fears, out of doubt, be of the same relish
+	as ours are: yet, in reason, no man should possess
+	him with any appearance of fear, lest he, by showing
+	it, should dishearten his army.
+
+BATES	He may show what outward courage he will; but I
+	believe, as cold a night as 'tis, he could wish
+	himself in Thames up to the neck; and so I would he
+	were, and I by him, at all adventures, so we were quit here.
+
+KING HENRY V	By my troth, I will speak my conscience of the king:
+	I think he would not wish himself any where but
+	where he is.
+
+BATES	Then I would he were here alone; so should he be
+	sure to be ransomed, and a many poor men's lives saved.
+
+KING HENRY V	I dare say you love him not so ill, to wish him here
+	alone, howsoever you speak this to feel other men's
+	minds: methinks I could not die any where so
+	contented as in the king's company; his cause being
+	just and his quarrel honourable.
+
+WILLIAMS	That's more than we know.
+
+BATES	Ay, or more than we should seek after; for we know
+	enough, if we know we are the kings subjects: if
+	his cause be wrong, our obedience to the king wipes
+	the crime of it out of us.
+
+WILLIAMS	But if the cause be not good, the king himself hath
+	a heavy reckoning to make, when all those legs and
+	arms and heads, chopped off in battle, shall join
+	together at the latter day and cry all 'We died at
+	such a place;' some swearing, some crying for a
+	surgeon, some upon their wives left poor behind
+	them, some upon the debts they owe, some upon their
+	children rawly left. I am afeard there are few die
+	well that die in a battle; for how can they
+	charitably dispose of any thing, when blood is their
+	argument? Now, if these men do not die well, it
+	will be a black matter for the king that led them to
+	it; whom to disobey were against all proportion of
+	subjection.
+
+KING HENRY V	So, if a son that is by his father sent about
+	merchandise do sinfully miscarry upon the sea, the
+	imputation of his wickedness by your rule, should be
+	imposed upon his father that sent him: or if a
+	servant, under his master's command transporting a
+	sum of money, be assailed by robbers and die in
+	many irreconciled iniquities, you may call the
+	business of the master the author of the servant's
+	damnation: but this is not so: the king is not
+	bound to answer the particular endings of his
+	soldiers, the father of his son, nor the master of
+	his servant; for they purpose not their death, when
+	they purpose their services. Besides, there is no
+	king, be his cause never so spotless, if it come to
+	the arbitrement of swords, can try it out with all
+	unspotted soldiers: some peradventure have on them
+	the guilt of premeditated and contrived murder;
+	some, of beguiling virgins with the broken seals of
+	perjury; some, making the wars their bulwark, that
+	have before gored the gentle bosom of peace with
+	pillage and robbery. Now, if these men have
+	defeated the law and outrun native punishment,
+	though they can outstrip men, they have no wings to
+	fly from God: war is his beadle, war is vengeance;
+	so that here men are punished for before-breach of
+	the king's laws in now the king's quarrel: where
+	they feared the death, they have borne life away;
+	and where they would be safe, they perish: then if
+	they die unprovided, no more is the king guilty of
+	their damnation than he was before guilty of those
+	impieties for the which they are now visited. Every
+	subject's duty is the king's; but every subject's
+	soul is his own. Therefore should every soldier in
+	the wars do as every sick man in his bed, wash every
+	mote out of his conscience: and dying so, death
+	is to him advantage; or not dying, the time was
+	blessedly lost wherein such preparation was gained:
+	and in him that escapes, it were not sin to think
+	that, making God so free an offer, He let him
+	outlive that day to see His greatness and to teach
+	others how they should prepare.
+
+WILLIAMS	'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill upon
+	his own head, the king is not to answer it.
+
+BATES	But I do not desire he should answer for me; and
+	yet I determine to fight lustily for him.
+
+KING HENRY V	I myself heard the king say he would not be ransomed.
+
+WILLIAMS	Ay, he said so, to make us fight cheerfully: but
+	when our throats are cut, he may be ransomed, and we
+	ne'er the wiser.
+
+KING HENRY V	If I live to see it, I will never trust his word after.
+
+WILLIAMS	You pay him then. That's a perilous shot out of an
+	elder-gun, that a poor and private displeasure can
+	do against a monarch! you may as well go about to
+	turn the sun to ice with fanning in his face with a
+	peacock's feather. You'll never trust his word
+	after! come, 'tis a foolish saying.
+
+KING HENRY V	Your reproof is something too round: I should be
+	angry with you, if the time were convenient.
+
+WILLIAMS	Let it be a quarrel between us, if you live.
+
+KING HENRY V	I embrace it.
+
+WILLIAMS	How shall I know thee again?
+
+KING HENRY V	Give me any gage of thine, and I will wear it in my
+	bonnet: then, if ever thou darest acknowledge it, I
+	will make it my quarrel.
+
+WILLIAMS	Here's my glove: give me another of thine.
+
+KING HENRY V	There.
+
+WILLIAMS	This will I also wear in my cap: if ever thou come
+	to me and say, after to-morrow, 'This is my glove,'
+	by this hand, I will take thee a box on the ear.
+
+KING HENRY V	If ever I live to see it, I will challenge it.
+
+WILLIAMS	Thou darest as well be hanged.
+
+KING HENRY V	Well. I will do it, though I take thee in the
+	king's company.
+
+WILLIAMS	Keep thy word: fare thee well.
+
+BATES	Be friends, you English fools, be friends: we have
+	French quarrels enow, if you could tell how to reckon.
+
+KING HENRY V	Indeed, the French may lay twenty French crowns to
+	one, they will beat us; for they bear them on their
+	shoulders: but it is no English treason to cut
+	French crowns, and to-morrow the king himself will
+	be a clipper.
+
+	[Exeunt soldiers]
+
+	Upon the king! let us our lives, our souls,
+	Our debts, our careful wives,
+	Our children and our sins lay on the king!
+	We must bear all. O hard condition,
+	Twin-born with greatness, subject to the breath
+	Of every fool, whose sense no more can feel
+	But his own wringing! What infinite heart's-ease
+	Must kings neglect, that private men enjoy!
+	And what have kings, that privates have not too,
+	Save ceremony, save general ceremony?
+	And what art thou, thou idle ceremony?
+	What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more
+	Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?
+	What are thy rents? what are thy comings in?
+	O ceremony, show me but thy worth!
+	What is thy soul of adoration?
+	Art thou aught else but place, degree and form,
+	Creating awe and fear in other men?
+	Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd
+	Than they in fearing.
+	What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet,
+	But poison'd flattery? O, be sick, great greatness,
+	And bid thy ceremony give thee cure!
+	Think'st thou the fiery fever will go out
+	With titles blown from adulation?
+	Will it give place to flexure and low bending?
+	Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,
+	Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream,
+	That play'st so subtly with a king's repose;
+	I am a king that find thee, and I know
+	'Tis not the balm, the sceptre and the ball,
+	The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
+	The intertissued robe of gold and pearl,
+	The farced title running 'fore the king,
+	The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp
+	That beats upon the high shore of this world,
+	No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony,
+	Not all these, laid in bed majestical,
+	Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave,
+	Who with a body fill'd and vacant mind
+	Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread;
+	Never sees horrid night, the child of hell,
+	But, like a lackey, from the rise to set
+	Sweats in the eye of Phoebus and all night
+	Sleeps in Elysium; next day after dawn,
+	Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse,
+	And follows so the ever-running year,
+	With profitable labour, to his grave:
+	And, but for ceremony, such a wretch,
+	Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep,
+	Had the fore-hand and vantage of a king.
+	The slave, a member of the country's peace,
+	Enjoys it; but in gross brain little wots
+	What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace,
+	Whose hours the peasant best advantages.
+
+	[Enter ERPINGHAM]
+
+ERPINGHAM	My lord, your nobles, jealous of your absence,
+	Seek through your camp to find you.
+
+KING HENRY V	Good old knight,
+	Collect them all together at my tent:
+	I'll be before thee.
+
+ERPINGHAM	I shall do't, my lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING HENRY V	O God of battles! steel my soldiers' hearts;
+	Possess them not with fear; take from them now
+	The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers
+	Pluck their hearts from them. Not to-day, O Lord,
+	O, not to-day, think not upon the fault
+	My father made in compassing the crown!
+	I Richard's body have interred anew;
+	And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears
+	Than from it issued forced drops of blood:
+	Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay,
+	Who twice a-day their wither'd hands hold up
+	Toward heaven, to pardon blood; and I have built
+	Two chantries, where the sad and solemn priests
+	Sing still for Richard's soul. More will I do;
+	Though all that I can do is nothing worth,
+	Since that my penitence comes after all,
+	Imploring pardon.
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER]
+
+GLOUCESTER	My liege!
+
+KING HENRY V	My brother Gloucester's voice? Ay;
+	I know thy errand, I will go with thee:
+	The day, my friends and all things stay for me.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The French camp.
+
+
+	[Enter the DAUPHIN, ORLEANS, RAMBURES, and others]
+
+ORLEANS	The sun doth gild our armour; up, my lords!
+
+DAUPHIN	Montez A cheval! My horse! varlet! laquais! ha!
+
+ORLEANS	O brave spirit!
+
+DAUPHIN	Via! les eaux et la terre.
+
+ORLEANS	Rien puis? L'air et la feu.
+
+DAUPHIN	Ciel, cousin Orleans.
+
+	[Enter Constable]
+
+	Now, my lord constable!
+
+Constable	Hark, how our steeds for present service neigh!
+
+DAUPHIN	Mount them, and make incision in their hides,
+	That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,
+	And dout them with superfluous courage, ha!
+
+RAMBURES	What, will you have them weep our horses' blood?
+	How shall we, then, behold their natural tears?
+
+	[Enter Messenger]
+
+Messenger	The English are embattled, you French peers.
+
+Constable	To horse, you gallant princes! straight to horse!
+	Do but behold yon poor and starved band,
+	And your fair show shall suck away their souls,
+	Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.
+	There is not work enough for all our hands;
+	Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins
+	To give each naked curtle-axe a stain,
+	That our French gallants shall to-day draw out,
+	And sheathe for lack of sport: let us but blow on them,
+	The vapour of our valour will o'erturn them.
+	'Tis positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords,
+	That our superfluous lackeys and our peasants,
+	Who in unnecessary action swarm
+	About our squares of battle, were enow
+	To purge this field of such a hilding foe,
+	Though we upon this mountain's basis by
+	Took stand for idle speculation:
+	But that our honours must not. What's to say?
+	A very little little let us do.
+	And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound
+	The tucket sonance and the note to mount;
+	For our approach shall so much dare the field
+	That England shall couch down in fear and yield.
+
+	[Enter GRANDPRE]
+
+GRANDPRE	Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?
+	Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones,
+	Ill-favouredly become the morning field:
+	Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,
+	And our air shakes them passing scornfully:
+	Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host
+	And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps:
+	The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks,
+	With torch-staves in their hand; and their poor jades
+	Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips,
+	The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes
+	And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal bit
+	Lies foul with chew'd grass, still and motionless;
+	And their executors, the knavish crows,
+	Fly o'er them, all impatient for their hour.
+	Description cannot suit itself in words
+	To demonstrate the life of such a battle
+	In life so lifeless as it shows itself.
+
+Constable	They have said their prayers, and they stay for death.
+
+DAUPHIN	Shall we go send them dinners and fresh suits
+	And give their fasting horses provender,
+	And after fight with them?
+
+Constable	I stay but for my guidon: to the field!
+	I will the banner from a trumpet take,
+	And use it for my haste. Come, come, away!
+	The sun is high, and we outwear the day.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The English camp.
+
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, ERPINGHAM, with
+	all his host: SALISBURY and WESTMORELAND]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Where is the king?
+
+BEDFORD	The king himself is rode to view their battle.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Of fighting men they have full three score thousand.
+
+EXETER	There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh.
+
+SALISBURY	God's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful odds.
+	God be wi' you, princes all; I'll to my charge:
+	If we no more meet till we meet in heaven,
+	Then, joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford,
+	My dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter,
+	And my kind kinsman, warriors all, adieu!
+
+BEDFORD	Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck go with thee!
+
+EXETER	Farewell, kind lord; fight valiantly to-day:
+	And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,
+	For thou art framed of the firm truth of valour.
+
+	[Exit SALISBURY]
+
+BEDFORD	He is full of valour as of kindness;
+	Princely in both.
+
+	[Enter the KING]
+
+WESTMORELAND	                  O that we now had here
+	But one ten thousand of those men in England
+	That do no work to-day!
+
+KING HENRY V	What's he that wishes so?
+	My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin:
+	If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
+	To do our country loss; and if to live,
+	The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
+	God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
+	By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
+	Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
+	It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
+	Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
+	But if it be a sin to covet honour,
+	I am the most offending soul alive.
+	No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
+	God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
+	As one man more, methinks, would share from me
+	For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
+	Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
+	That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
+	Let him depart; his passport shall be made
+	And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
+	We would not die in that man's company
+	That fears his fellowship to die with us.
+	This day is called the feast of Crispian:
+	He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
+	Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
+	And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
+	He that shall live this day, and see old age,
+	Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
+	And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
+	Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
+	And say 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'
+	Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
+	But he'll remember with advantages
+	What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
+	Familiar in his mouth as household words
+	Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
+	Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
+	Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
+	This story shall the good man teach his son;
+	And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
+	From this day to the ending of the world,
+	But we in it shall be remember'd;
+	We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
+	For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
+	Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
+	This day shall gentle his condition:
+	And gentlemen in England now a-bed
+	Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
+	And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
+	That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
+
+	[Re-enter SALISBURY]
+
+SALISBURY	My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed:
+	The French are bravely in their battles set,
+	And will with all expedience charge on us.
+
+KING HENRY V	All things are ready, if our minds be so.
+
+WESTMORELAND	Perish the man whose mind is backward now!
+
+KING HENRY V	Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz?
+
+WESTMORELAND	God's will! my liege, would you and I alone,
+	Without more help, could fight this royal battle!
+
+KING HENRY V	Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thousand men;
+	Which likes me better than to wish us one.
+	You know your places: God be with you all!
+
+	[Tucket. Enter MONTJOY]
+
+MONTJOY	Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,
+	If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
+	Before thy most assured overthrow:
+	For certainly thou art so near the gulf,
+	Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy,
+	The constable desires thee thou wilt mind
+	Thy followers of repentance; that their souls
+	May make a peaceful and a sweet retire
+	From off these fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies
+	Must lie and fester.
+
+KING HENRY V	Who hath sent thee now?
+
+MONTJOY	The Constable of France.
+
+KING HENRY V	I pray thee, bear my former answer back:
+	Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones.
+	Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus?
+	The man that once did sell the lion's skin
+	While the beast lived, was killed with hunting him.
+	A many of our bodies shall no doubt
+	Find native graves; upon the which, I trust,
+	Shall witness live in brass of this day's work:
+	And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
+	Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills,
+	They shall be famed; for there the sun shall greet them,
+	And draw their honours reeking up to heaven;
+	Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
+	The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
+	Mark then abounding valour in our English,
+	That being dead, like to the bullet's grazing,
+	Break out into a second course of mischief,
+	Killing in relapse of mortality.
+	Let me speak proudly: tell the constable
+	We are but warriors for the working-day;
+	Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd
+	With rainy marching in the painful field;
+	There's not a piece of feather in our host--
+	Good argument, I hope, we will not fly--
+	And time hath worn us into slovenry:
+	But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim;
+	And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night
+	They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck
+	The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads
+	And turn them out of service. If they do this,--
+	As, if God please, they shall,--my ransom then
+	Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour;
+	Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald:
+	They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints;
+	Which if they have as I will leave 'em them,
+	Shall yield them little, tell the constable.
+
+MONTJOY	I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:
+	Thou never shalt hear herald any more.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING HENRY V	I fear thou'lt once more come again for ransom.
+
+	[Enter YORK]
+
+YORK	My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg
+	The leading of the vaward.
+
+KING HENRY V	Take it, brave York. Now, soldiers, march away:
+	And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The field of battle.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Excursions. Enter PISTOL, French Soldier, and Boy]
+
+PISTOL	Yield, cur!
+
+French Soldier	Je pense que vous etes gentilhomme de bonne qualite.
+
+PISTOL	Qualtitie calmie custure me! Art thou a gentleman?
+	what is thy name? discuss.
+
+French Soldier	O Seigneur Dieu!
+
+PISTOL	O, Signieur Dew should be a gentleman:
+	Perpend my words, O Signieur Dew, and mark;
+	O Signieur Dew, thou diest on point of fox,
+	Except, O signieur, thou do give to me
+	Egregious ransom.
+
+French Soldier	O, prenez misericorde! ayez pitie de moi!
+
+PISTOL	Moy shall not serve; I will have forty moys;
+	Or I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat
+	In drops of crimson blood.
+
+French Soldier	Est-il impossible d'echapper la force de ton bras?
+
+PISTOL	Brass, cur!
+	Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat,
+	Offer'st me brass?
+
+French Soldier	O pardonnez moi!
+
+PISTOL	Say'st thou me so? is that a ton of moys?
+	Come hither, boy: ask me this slave in French
+	What is his name.
+
+Boy	Ecoutez: comment etes-vous appele?
+
+French Soldier	Monsieur le Fer.
+
+Boy	He says his name is Master Fer.
+
+PISTOL	Master Fer! I'll fer him, and firk him, and ferret
+	him: discuss the same in French unto him.
+
+Boy	I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firk.
+
+PISTOL	Bid him prepare; for I will cut his throat.
+
+French Soldier	Que dit-il, monsieur?
+
+Boy	Il me commande de vous dire que vous faites vous
+	pret; car ce soldat ici est dispose tout a cette
+	heure de couper votre gorge.
+
+PISTOL	Owy, cuppele gorge, permafoy,
+	Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns;
+	Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.
+
+French Soldier	O, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de Dieu, me
+	pardonner! Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison:
+	gardez ma vie, et je vous donnerai deux cents ecus.
+
+PISTOL	What are his words?
+
+Boy	He prays you to save his life: he is a gentleman of
+	a good house; and for his ransom he will give you
+	two hundred crowns.
+
+PISTOL	Tell him my fury shall abate, and I the crowns will take.
+
+French Soldier	Petit monsieur, que dit-il?
+
+Boy	Encore qu'il est contre son jurement de pardonner
+	aucun prisonnier, neanmoins, pour les ecus que vous
+	l'avez promis, il est content de vous donner la
+	liberte, le franchisement.
+
+French Soldier	Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remercimens; et
+	je m'estime heureux que je suis tombe entre les
+	mains d'un chevalier, je pense, le plus brave,
+	vaillant, et tres distingue seigneur d'Angleterre.
+
+PISTOL	Expound unto me, boy.
+
+Boy	He gives you, upon his knees, a thousand thanks; and
+	he esteems himself happy that he hath fallen into
+	the hands of one, as he thinks, the most brave,
+	valorous, and thrice-worthy signieur of England.
+
+PISTOL	As I suck blood, I will some mercy show.
+	Follow me!
+
+Boy	Suivez-vous le grand capitaine.
+
+	[Exeunt PISTOL, and French Soldier]
+
+	I did never know so full a voice issue from so
+	empty a heart: but the saying is true 'The empty
+	vessel makes the greatest sound.' Bardolph and Nym
+	had ten times more valour than this roaring devil i'
+	the old play, that every one may pare his nails with
+	a wooden dagger; and they are both hanged; and so
+	would this be, if he durst steal any thing
+	adventurously. I must stay with the lackeys, with
+	the luggage of our camp: the French might have a
+	good prey of us, if he knew of it; for there is
+	none to guard it but boys.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Enter Constable, ORLEANS, BOURBON, DAUPHIN, and RAMBURES]
+
+Constable	O diable!
+
+ORLEANS	O seigneur! le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!
+
+DAUPHIN	Mort de ma vie! all is confounded, all!
+	Reproach and everlasting shame
+	Sits mocking in our plumes. O merchante fortune!
+	Do not run away.
+
+	[A short alarum]
+
+Constable	                  Why, all our ranks are broke.
+
+DAUPHIN	O perdurable shame! let's stab ourselves.
+	Be these the wretches that we play'd at dice for?
+
+ORLEANS	Is this the king we sent to for his ransom?
+
+BOURBON	Shame and eternal shame, nothing but shame!
+	Let us die in honour: once more back again;
+	And he that will not follow Bourbon now,
+	Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand,
+	Like a base pander, hold the chamber-door
+	Whilst by a slave, no gentler than my dog,
+	His fairest daughter is contaminated.
+
+Constable	Disorder, that hath spoil'd us, friend us now!
+	Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.
+
+ORLEANS	We are enow yet living in the field
+	To smother up the English in our throngs,
+	If any order might be thought upon.
+
+BOURBON	The devil take order now! I'll to the throng:
+	Let life be short; else shame will be too long.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Alarums. Enter KING HENRY and forces, EXETER, and others]
+
+KING HENRY V	Well have we done, thrice valiant countrymen:
+	But all's not done; yet keep the French the field.
+
+EXETER	The Duke of York commends him to your majesty.
+
+KING HENRY V	Lives he, good uncle? thrice within this hour
+	I saw him down; thrice up again and fighting;
+	From helmet to the spur all blood he was.
+
+EXETER	In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie,
+	Larding the plain; and by his bloody side,
+	Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds,
+	The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.
+	Suffolk first died: and York, all haggled over,
+	Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteep'd,
+	And takes him by the beard; kisses the gashes
+	That bloodily did spawn upon his face;
+	And cries aloud 'Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk!
+	My soul shall thine keep company to heaven;
+	Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast,
+	As in this glorious and well-foughten field
+	We kept together in our chivalry!'
+	Upon these words I came and cheer'd him up:
+	He smiled me in the face, raught me his hand,
+	And, with a feeble gripe, says 'Dear my lord,
+	Commend my service to me sovereign.'
+	So did he turn and over Suffolk's neck
+	He threw his wounded arm and kiss'd his lips;
+	And so espoused to death, with blood he seal'd
+	A testament of noble-ending love.
+	The pretty and sweet manner of it forced
+	Those waters from me which I would have stopp'd;
+	But I had not so much of man in me,
+	And all my mother came into mine eyes
+	And gave me up to tears.
+
+KING HENRY V	I blame you not;
+	For, hearing this, I must perforce compound
+	With mistful eyes, or they will issue too.
+
+	[Alarum]
+
+	But, hark! what new alarum is this same?
+	The French have reinforced their scatter'd men:
+	Then every soldier kill his prisoners:
+	Give the word through.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER]
+
+FLUELLEN	Kill the poys and the luggage! 'tis expressly
+	against the law of arms: 'tis as arrant a piece of
+	knavery, mark you now, as can be offer't; in your
+	conscience, now, is it not?
+
+GOWER	'Tis certain there's not a boy left alive; and the
+	cowardly rascals that ran from the battle ha' done
+	this slaughter: besides, they have burned and
+	carried away all that was in the king's tent;
+	wherefore the king, most worthily, hath caused every
+	soldier to cut his prisoner's throat. O, 'tis a
+	gallant king!
+
+FLUELLEN	Ay, he was porn at Monmouth, Captain Gower. What
+	call you the town's name where Alexander the Pig was born!
+
+GOWER	Alexander the Great.
+
+FLUELLEN	Why, I pray you, is not pig great? the pig, or the
+	great, or the mighty, or the huge, or the
+	magnanimous, are all one reckonings, save the phrase
+	is a little variations.
+
+GOWER	I think Alexander the Great was born in Macedon; his
+	father was called Philip of Macedon, as I take it.
+
+FLUELLEN	I think it is in Macedon where Alexander is porn. I
+	tell you, captain, if you look in the maps of the
+	'orld, I warrant you sall find, in the comparisons
+	between Macedon and Monmouth, that the situations,
+	look you, is both alike. There is a river in
+	Macedon; and there is also moreover a river at
+	Monmouth: it is called Wye at Monmouth; but it is
+	out of my prains what is the name of the other
+	river; but 'tis all one, 'tis alike as my fingers is
+	to my fingers, and there is salmons in both. If you
+	mark Alexander's life well, Harry of Monmouth's life
+	is come after it indifferent well; for there is
+	figures in all things. Alexander, God knows, and
+	you know, in his rages, and his furies, and his
+	wraths, and his cholers, and his moods, and his
+	displeasures, and his indignations, and also being a
+	little intoxicates in his prains, did, in his ales and
+	his angers, look you, kill his best friend, Cleitus.
+
+GOWER	Our king is not like him in that: he never killed
+	any of his friends.
+
+FLUELLEN	It is not well done, mark you now take the tales out
+	of my mouth, ere it is made and finished. I speak
+	but in the figures and comparisons of it: as
+	Alexander killed his friend Cleitus, being in his
+	ales and his cups; so also Harry Monmouth, being in
+	his right wits and his good judgments, turned away
+	the fat knight with the great belly-doublet: he
+	was full of jests, and gipes, and knaveries, and
+	mocks; I have forgot his name.
+
+GOWER	Sir John Falstaff.
+
+FLUELLEN	That is he: I'll tell you there is good men porn at Monmouth.
+
+GOWER	Here comes his majesty.
+
+	[Alarum. Enter KING HENRY, and forces; WARWICK,
+	GLOUCESTER, EXETER, and others]
+
+KING HENRY V	I was not angry since I came to France
+	Until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald;
+	Ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill:
+	If they will fight with us, bid them come down,
+	Or void the field; they do offend our sight:
+	If they'll do neither, we will come to them,
+	And make them skirr away, as swift as stones
+	Enforced from the old Assyrian slings:
+	Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have,
+	And not a man of them that we shall take
+	Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.
+
+	[Enter MONTJOY]
+
+EXETER	Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.
+
+GLOUCESTER	His eyes are humbler than they used to be.
+
+KING HENRY V	How now! what means this, herald? know'st thou not
+	That I have fined these bones of mine for ransom?
+	Comest thou again for ransom?
+
+MONTJOY	No, great king:
+	I come to thee for charitable licence,
+	That we may wander o'er this bloody field
+	To look our dead, and then to bury them;
+	To sort our nobles from our common men.
+	For many of our princes--woe the while!--
+	Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood;
+	So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs
+	In blood of princes; and their wounded steeds
+	Fret fetlock deep in gore and with wild rage
+	Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters,
+	Killing them twice. O, give us leave, great king,
+	To view the field in safety and dispose
+	Of their dead bodies!
+
+KING HENRY V	I tell thee truly, herald,
+	I know not if the day be ours or no;
+	For yet a many of your horsemen peer
+	And gallop o'er the field.
+
+MONTJOY	The day is yours.
+
+KING HENRY V	Praised be God, and not our strength, for it!
+	What is this castle call'd that stands hard by?
+
+MONTJOY	They call it Agincourt.
+
+KING HENRY V	Then call we this the field of Agincourt,
+	Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus.
+
+FLUELLEN	Your grandfather of famous memory, an't please your
+	majesty, and your great-uncle Edward the Plack
+	Prince of Wales, as I have read in the chronicles,
+	fought a most prave pattle here in France.
+
+KING HENRY V	They did, Fluellen.
+
+FLUELLEN	Your majesty says very true: if your majesties is
+	remembered of it, the Welshmen did good service in a
+	garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their
+	Monmouth caps; which, your majesty know, to this
+	hour is an honourable badge of the service; and I do
+	believe your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek
+	upon Saint Tavy's day.
+
+KING HENRY V	I wear it for a memorable honour;
+	For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.
+
+FLUELLEN	All the water in Wye cannot wash your majesty's
+	Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that:
+	God pless it and preserve it, as long as it pleases
+	his grace, and his majesty too!
+
+KING HENRY V	Thanks, good my countryman.
+
+FLUELLEN	By Jeshu, I am your majesty's countryman, I care not
+	who know it; I will confess it to all the 'orld: I
+	need not to be ashamed of your majesty, praised be
+	God, so long as your majesty is an honest man.
+
+KING HENRY V	God keep me so! Our heralds go with him:
+	Bring me just notice of the numbers dead
+	On both our parts. Call yonder fellow hither.
+
+	[Points to WILLIAMS. Exeunt Heralds with Montjoy]
+
+EXETER	Soldier, you must come to the king.
+
+KING HENRY V	Soldier, why wearest thou that glove in thy cap?
+
+WILLIAMS	An't please your majesty, 'tis the gage of one that
+	I should fight withal, if he be alive.
+
+KING HENRY V	An Englishman?
+
+WILLIAMS	An't please your majesty, a rascal that swaggered
+	with me last night; who, if alive and ever dare to
+	challenge this glove, I have sworn to take him a box
+	o' th' ear: or if I can see my glove in his cap,
+	which he swore, as he was a soldier, he would wear
+	if alive, I will strike it out soundly.
+
+KING HENRY V	What think you, Captain Fluellen? is it fit this
+	soldier keep his oath?
+
+FLUELLEN	He is a craven and a villain else, an't please your
+	majesty, in my conscience.
+
+KING HENRY V	It may be his enemy is a gentleman of great sort,
+	quite from the answer of his degree.
+
+FLUELLEN	Though he be as good a gentleman as the devil is, as
+	Lucifer and Belzebub himself, it is necessary, look
+	your grace, that he keep his vow and his oath: if
+	he be perjured, see you now, his reputation is as
+	arrant a villain and a Jacksauce, as ever his black
+	shoe trod upon God's ground and his earth, in my
+	conscience, la!
+
+KING HENRY V	Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meetest the fellow.
+
+WILLIAMS	So I will, my liege, as I live.
+
+KING HENRY V	Who servest thou under?
+
+WILLIAMS	Under Captain Gower, my liege.
+
+FLUELLEN	Gower is a good captain, and is good knowledge and
+	literatured in the wars.
+
+KING HENRY V	Call him hither to me, soldier.
+
+WILLIAMS	I will, my liege.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING HENRY V	Here, Fluellen; wear thou this favour for me and
+	stick it in thy cap: when Alencon and myself were
+	down together, I plucked this glove from his helm:
+	if any man challenge this, he is a friend to
+	Alencon, and an enemy to our person; if thou
+	encounter any such, apprehend him, an thou dost me love.
+
+FLUELLEN	Your grace doo's me as great honours as can be
+	desired in the hearts of his subjects: I would fain
+	see the man, that has but two legs, that shall find
+	himself aggrieved at this glove; that is all; but I
+	would fain see it once, an please God of his grace
+	that I might see.
+
+KING HENRY V	Knowest thou Gower?
+
+FLUELLEN	He is my dear friend, an please you.
+
+KING HENRY V	Pray thee, go seek him, and bring him to my tent.
+
+FLUELLEN	I will fetch him.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING HENRY V	My Lord of Warwick, and my brother Gloucester,
+	Follow Fluellen closely at the heels:
+	The glove which I have given him for a favour
+	May haply purchase him a box o' th' ear;
+	It is the soldier's; I by bargain should
+	Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick:
+	If that the soldier strike him, as I judge
+	By his blunt bearing he will keep his word,
+	Some sudden mischief may arise of it;
+	For I do know Fluellen valiant
+	And, touched with choler, hot as gunpowder,
+	And quickly will return an injury:
+	Follow and see there be no harm between them.
+	Go you with me, uncle of Exeter.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII	Before KING HENRY'S pavilion.
+
+
+	[Enter GOWER and WILLIAMS]
+
+WILLIAMS	I warrant it is to knight you, captain.
+
+	[Enter FLUELLEN]
+
+FLUELLEN	God's will and his pleasure, captain, I beseech you
+	now, come apace to the king: there is more good
+	toward you peradventure than is in your knowledge to dream of.
+
+WILLIAMS	Sir, know you this glove?
+
+FLUELLEN	Know the glove! I know the glove is glove.
+
+WILLIAMS	I know this; and thus I challenge it.
+
+	[Strikes him]
+
+FLUELLEN	'Sblood! an arrant traitor as any is in the
+	universal world, or in France, or in England!
+
+GOWER	How now, sir! you villain!
+
+WILLIAMS	Do you think I'll be forsworn?
+
+FLUELLEN	Stand away, Captain Gower; I will give treason his
+	payment into ploughs, I warrant you.
+
+WILLIAMS	I am no traitor.
+
+FLUELLEN	That's a lie in thy throat. I charge you in his
+	majesty's name, apprehend him: he's a friend of the
+	Duke Alencon's.
+
+	[Enter WARWICK and GLOUCESTER]
+
+WARWICK	How now, how now! what's the matter?
+
+FLUELLEN	My Lord of Warwick, here is--praised be God for it!
+	--a most contagious treason come to light, look
+	you, as you shall desire in a summer's day. Here is
+	his majesty.
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY and EXETER]
+
+KING HENRY V	How now! what's the matter?
+
+FLUELLEN	My liege, here is a villain and a traitor, that,
+	look your grace, has struck the glove which your
+	majesty is take out of the helmet of Alencon.
+
+WILLIAMS	My liege, this was my glove; here is the fellow of
+	it; and he that I gave it to in change promised to
+	wear it in his cap: I promised to strike him, if he
+	did: I met this man with my glove in his cap, and I
+	have been as good as my word.
+
+FLUELLEN	Your majesty hear now, saving your majesty's
+	manhood, what an arrant, rascally, beggarly, lousy
+	knave it is: I hope your majesty is pear me
+	testimony and witness, and will avouchment, that
+	this is the glove of Alencon, that your majesty is
+	give me; in your conscience, now?
+
+KING HENRY V	Give me thy glove, soldier: look, here is the
+	fellow of it.
+	'Twas I, indeed, thou promised'st to strike;
+	And thou hast given me most bitter terms.
+
+FLUELLEN	An please your majesty, let his neck answer for it,
+	if there is any martial law in the world.
+
+KING HENRY V	How canst thou make me satisfaction?
+
+WILLIAMS	All offences, my lord, come from the heart: never
+	came any from mine that might offend your majesty.
+
+KING HENRY V	It was ourself thou didst abuse.
+
+WILLIAMS	Your majesty came not like yourself: you appeared to
+	me but as a common man; witness the night, your
+	garments, your lowliness; and what your highness
+	suffered under that shape, I beseech you take it for
+	your own fault and not mine: for had you been as I
+	took you for, I made no offence; therefore, I
+	beseech your highness, pardon me.
+
+KING HENRY V	Here, uncle Exeter, fill this glove with crowns,
+	And give it to this fellow. Keep it, fellow;
+	And wear it for an honour in thy cap
+	Till I do challenge it. Give him the crowns:
+	And, captain, you must needs be friends with him.
+
+FLUELLEN	By this day and this light, the fellow has mettle
+	enough in his belly. Hold, there is twelve pence
+	for you; and I pray you to serve Got, and keep you
+	out of prawls, and prabbles' and quarrels, and
+	dissensions, and, I warrant you, it is the better for you.
+
+WILLIAMS	I will none of your money.
+
+FLUELLEN	It is with a good will; I can tell you, it will
+	serve you to mend your shoes: come, wherefore should
+	you be so pashful? your shoes is not so good: 'tis
+	a good silling, I warrant you, or I will change it.
+
+	[Enter an English Herald]
+
+KING HENRY V	Now, herald, are the dead number'd?
+
+Herald	Here is the number of the slaughter'd French.
+
+KING HENRY V	What prisoners of good sort are taken, uncle?
+
+EXETER	Charles Duke of Orleans, nephew to the king;
+	John Duke of Bourbon, and Lord Bouciqualt:
+	Of other lords and barons, knights and squires,
+	Full fifteen hundred, besides common men.
+
+KING HENRY V	This note doth tell me of ten thousand French
+	That in the field lie slain: of princes, in this number,
+	And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead
+	One hundred twenty six: added to these,
+	Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen,
+	Eight thousand and four hundred; of the which,
+	Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd knights:
+	So that, in these ten thousand they have lost,
+	There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries;
+	The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, squires,
+	And gentlemen of blood and quality.
+	The names of those their nobles that lie dead:
+	Charles Delabreth, high constable of France;
+	Jaques of Chatillon, admiral of France;
+	The master of the cross-bows, Lord Rambures;
+	Great Master of France, the brave Sir Guichard Dolphin,
+	John Duke of Alencon, Anthony Duke of Brabant,
+	The brother of the Duke of Burgundy,
+	And Edward Duke of Bar: of lusty earls,
+	Grandpre and Roussi, Fauconberg and Foix,
+	Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Lestrale.
+	Here was a royal fellowship of death!
+	Where is the number of our English dead?
+
+	[Herald shews him another paper]
+
+	Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk,
+	Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam, esquire:
+	None else of name; and of all other men
+	But five and twenty. O God, thy arm was here;
+	And not to us, but to thy arm alone,
+	Ascribe we all! When, without stratagem,
+	But in plain shock and even play of battle,
+	Was ever known so great and little loss
+	On one part and on the other? Take it, God,
+	For it is none but thine!
+
+EXETER	'Tis wonderful!
+
+KING HENRY V	Come, go we in procession to the village.
+	And be it death proclaimed through our host
+	To boast of this or take the praise from God
+	Which is his only.
+
+FLUELLEN	Is it not lawful, an please your majesty, to tell
+	how many is killed?
+
+KING HENRY V	Yes, captain; but with this acknowledgement,
+	That God fought for us.
+
+FLUELLEN	Yes, my conscience, he did us great good.
+
+KING HENRY V	Do we all holy rites;
+	Let there be sung 'Non nobis' and 'Te Deum;'
+	The dead with charity enclosed in clay:
+	And then to Calais; and to England then:
+	Where ne'er from France arrived more happy men.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+	PROLOGUE.
+
+
+	[Enter Chorus]
+
+Chorus	Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story,
+	That I may prompt them: and of such as have,
+	I humbly pray them to admit the excuse
+	Of time, of numbers and due course of things,
+	Which cannot in their huge and proper life
+	Be here presented. Now we bear the king
+	Toward Calais: grant him there; there seen,
+	Heave him away upon your winged thoughts
+	Athwart the sea. Behold, the English beach
+	Pales in the flood with men, with wives and boys,
+	Whose shouts and claps out-voice the deep mouth'd sea,
+	Which like a mighty whiffler 'fore the king
+	Seems to prepare his way: so let him land,
+	And solemnly see him set on to London.
+	So swift a pace hath thought that even now
+	You may imagine him upon Blackheath;
+	Where that his lords desire him to have borne
+	His bruised helmet and his bended sword
+	Before him through the city: he forbids it,
+	Being free from vainness and self-glorious pride;
+	Giving full trophy, signal and ostent
+	Quite from himself to God. But now behold,
+	In the quick forge and working-house of thought,
+	How London doth pour out her citizens!
+	The mayor and all his brethren in best sort,
+	Like to the senators of the antique Rome,
+	With the plebeians swarming at their heels,
+	Go forth and fetch their conquering Caesar in:
+	As, by a lower but loving likelihood,
+	Were now the general of our gracious empress,
+	As in good time he may, from Ireland coming,
+	Bringing rebellion broached on his sword,
+	How many would the peaceful city quit,
+	To welcome him! much more, and much more cause,
+	Did they this Harry. Now in London place him;
+	As yet the lamentation of the French
+	Invites the King of England's stay at home;
+	The emperor's coming in behalf of France,
+	To order peace between them; and omit
+	All the occurrences, whatever chanced,
+	Till Harry's back-return again to France:
+	There must we bring him; and myself have play'd
+	The interim, by remembering you 'tis past.
+	Then brook abridgment, and your eyes advance,
+	After your thoughts, straight back again to France.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	France. The English camp.
+
+
+	[Enter FLUELLEN and GOWER]
+
+GOWER	Nay, that's right; but why wear you your leek today?
+	Saint Davy's day is past.
+
+FLUELLEN	There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in
+	all things: I will tell you, asse my friend,
+	Captain Gower: the rascally, scald, beggarly,
+	lousy, pragging knave, Pistol, which you and
+	yourself and all the world know to be no petter
+	than a fellow, look you now, of no merits, he is
+	come to me and prings me pread and salt yesterday,
+	look you, and bid me eat my leek: it was in place
+	where I could not breed no contention with him; but
+	I will be so bold as to wear it in my cap till I see
+	him once again, and then I will tell him a little
+	piece of my desires.
+
+	[Enter PISTOL]
+
+GOWER	Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock.
+
+FLUELLEN	'Tis no matter for his swellings nor his
+	turkey-cocks. God pless you, Aunchient Pistol! you
+	scurvy, lousy knave, God pless you!
+
+PISTOL	Ha! art thou bedlam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan,
+	To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?
+	Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.
+
+FLUELLEN	I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave, at my
+	desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat,
+	look you, this leek: because, look you, you do not
+	love it, nor your affections and your appetites and
+	your digestions doo's not agree with it, I would
+	desire you to eat it.
+
+PISTOL	Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.
+
+FLUELLEN	There is one goat for you.
+
+	[Strikes him]
+
+	Will you be so good, scauld knave, as eat it?
+
+PISTOL	Base Trojan, thou shalt die.
+
+FLUELLEN	You say very true, scauld knave, when God's will is:
+	I will desire you to live in the mean time, and eat
+	your victuals: come, there is sauce for it.
+
+	[Strikes him]
+
+	You called me yesterday mountain-squire; but I will
+	make you to-day a squire of low degree. I pray you,
+	fall to: if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.
+
+GOWER	Enough, captain: you have astonished him.
+
+FLUELLEN	I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or
+	I will peat his pate four days. Bite, I pray you; it
+	is good for your green wound and your ploody coxcomb.
+
+PISTOL	Must I bite?
+
+FLUELLEN	Yes, certainly, and out of doubt and out of question
+	too, and ambiguities.
+
+PISTOL	By this leek, I will most horribly revenge: I eat
+	and eat, I swear--
+
+FLUELLEN	Eat, I pray you: will you have some more sauce to
+	your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by.
+
+PISTOL	Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see I eat.
+
+FLUELLEN	Much good do you, scauld knave, heartily. Nay, pray
+	you, throw none away; the skin is good for your
+	broken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks
+	hereafter, I pray you, mock at 'em; that is all.
+
+PISTOL	Good.
+
+FLUELLEN	Ay, leeks is good: hold you, there is a groat to
+	heal your pate.
+
+PISTOL	Me a groat!
+
+FLUELLEN	Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it; or I
+	have another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat.
+
+PISTOL	I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.
+
+FLUELLEN	If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels:
+	you shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but
+	cudgels. God b' wi' you, and keep you, and heal your pate.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PISTOL	All hell shall stir for this.
+
+GOWER	Go, go; you are a counterfeit cowardly knave. Will
+	you mock at an ancient tradition, begun upon an
+	honourable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy of
+	predeceased valour and dare not avouch in your deeds
+	any of your words? I have seen you gleeking and
+	galling at this gentleman twice or thrice. You
+	thought, because he could not speak English in the
+	native garb, he could not therefore handle an
+	English cudgel: you find it otherwise; and
+	henceforth let a Welsh correction teach you a good
+	English condition. Fare ye well.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PISTOL	Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now?
+	News have I, that my Nell is dead i' the spital
+	Of malady of France;
+	And there my rendezvous is quite cut off.
+	Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs
+	Honour is cudgelled. Well, bawd I'll turn,
+	And something lean to cutpurse of quick hand.
+	To England will I steal, and there I'll steal:
+	And patches will I get unto these cudgell'd scars,
+	And swear I got them in the Gallia wars.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	France. A royal palace.
+
+
+	[Enter, at one door KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD,
+	GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and other Lords;
+	at another, the FRENCH KING, QUEEN ISABEL, the
+	PRINCESS KATHARINE, ALICE and other Ladies; the
+	DUKE of BURGUNDY, and his train]
+
+KING HENRY V	Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met!
+	Unto our brother France, and to our sister,
+	Health and fair time of day; joy and good wishes
+	To our most fair and princely cousin Katharine;
+	And, as a branch and member of this royalty,
+	By whom this great assembly is contrived,
+	We do salute you, Duke of Burgundy;
+	And, princes French, and peers, health to you all!
+
+KING OF FRANCE	Right joyous are we to behold your face,
+	Most worthy brother England; fairly met:
+	So are you, princes English, every one.
+
+QUEEN ISABEL	So happy be the issue, brother England,
+	Of this good day and of this gracious meeting,
+	As we are now glad to behold your eyes;
+	Your eyes, which hitherto have borne in them
+	Against the French, that met them in their bent,
+	The fatal balls of murdering basilisks:
+	The venom of such looks, we fairly hope,
+	Have lost their quality, and that this day
+	Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love.
+
+KING HENRY V	To cry amen to that, thus we appear.
+
+QUEEN ISABEL	You English princes all, I do salute you.
+
+BURGUNDY	My duty to you both, on equal love,
+	Great Kings of France and England! That I have labour'd,
+	With all my wits, my pains and strong endeavours,
+	To bring your most imperial majesties
+	Unto this bar and royal interview,
+	Your mightiness on both parts best can witness.
+	Since then my office hath so far prevail'd
+	That, face to face and royal eye to eye,
+	You have congreeted, let it not disgrace me,
+	If I demand, before this royal view,
+	What rub or what impediment there is,
+	Why that the naked, poor and mangled Peace,
+	Dear nurse of arts and joyful births,
+	Should not in this best garden of the world
+	Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage?
+	Alas, she hath from France too long been chased,
+	And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps,
+	Corrupting in its own fertility.
+	Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart,
+	Unpruned dies; her hedges even-pleach'd,
+	Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair,
+	Put forth disorder'd twigs; her fallow leas
+	The darnel, hemlock and rank fumitory
+	Doth root upon, while that the coulter rusts
+	That should deracinate such savagery;
+	The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth
+	The freckled cowslip, burnet and green clover,
+	Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank,
+	Conceives by idleness and nothing teems
+	But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs,
+	Losing both beauty and utility.
+	And as our vineyards, fallows, meads and hedges,
+	Defective in their natures, grow to wildness,
+	Even so our houses and ourselves and children
+	Have lost, or do not learn for want of time,
+	The sciences that should become our country;
+	But grow like savages,--as soldiers will
+	That nothing do but meditate on blood,--
+	To swearing and stern looks, diffused attire
+	And every thing that seems unnatural.
+	Which to reduce into our former favour
+	You are assembled: and my speech entreats
+	That I may know the let, why gentle Peace
+	Should not expel these inconveniences
+	And bless us with her former qualities.
+
+KING HENRY V	If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace,
+	Whose want gives growth to the imperfections
+	Which you have cited, you must buy that peace
+	With full accord to all our just demands;
+	Whose tenors and particular effects
+	You have enscheduled briefly in your hands.
+
+BURGUNDY	The king hath heard them; to the which as yet
+	There is no answer made.
+
+KING HENRY V	Well then the peace,
+	Which you before so urged, lies in his answer.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	I have but with a cursorary eye
+	O'erglanced the articles: pleaseth your grace
+	To appoint some of your council presently
+	To sit with us once more, with better heed
+	To re-survey them, we will suddenly
+	Pass our accept and peremptory answer.
+
+KING HENRY V	Brother, we shall. Go, uncle Exeter,
+	And brother Clarence, and you, brother Gloucester,
+	Warwick and Huntingdon, go with the king;
+	And take with you free power to ratify,
+	Augment, or alter, as your wisdoms best
+	Shall see advantageable for our dignity,
+	Any thing in or out of our demands,
+	And we'll consign thereto. Will you, fair sister,
+	Go with the princes, or stay here with us?
+
+QUEEN ISABEL	Our gracious brother, I will go with them:
+	Haply a woman's voice may do some good,
+	When articles too nicely urged be stood on.
+
+KING HENRY V	Yet leave our cousin Katharine here with us:
+	She is our capital demand, comprised
+	Within the fore-rank of our articles.
+
+QUEEN ISABEL	She hath good leave.
+
+	[Exeunt all except HENRY, KATHARINE, and ALICE]
+
+KING HENRY V	Fair Katharine, and most fair,
+	Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms
+	Such as will enter at a lady's ear
+	And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?
+
+KATHARINE	Your majesty shall mock at me; I cannot speak your England.
+
+KING HENRY V	O fair Katharine, if you will love me soundly with
+	your French heart, I will be glad to hear you
+	confess it brokenly with your English tongue. Do
+	you like me, Kate?
+
+KATHARINE	Pardonnez-moi, I cannot tell vat is 'like me.'
+
+KING HENRY V	An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel.
+
+KATHARINE	Que dit-il? que je suis semblable a les anges?
+
+ALICE	Oui, vraiment, sauf votre grace, ainsi dit-il.
+
+KING HENRY V	I said so, dear Katharine; and I must not blush to
+	affirm it.
+
+KATHARINE	O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines de
+	tromperies.
+
+KING HENRY V	What says she, fair one? that the tongues of men
+	are full of deceits?
+
+ALICE	Oui, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of
+	deceits: dat is de princess.
+
+KING HENRY V	The princess is the better Englishwoman. I' faith,
+	Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding: I am
+	glad thou canst speak no better English; for, if
+	thou couldst, thou wouldst find me such a plain king
+	that thou wouldst think I had sold my farm to buy my
+	crown. I know no ways to mince it in love, but
+	directly to say 'I love you:' then if you urge me
+	farther than to say 'do you in faith?' I wear out
+	my suit. Give me your answer; i' faith, do: and so
+	clap hands and a bargain: how say you, lady?
+
+KATHARINE	Sauf votre honneur, me understand vell.
+
+KING HENRY V	Marry, if you would put me to verses or to dance for
+	your sake, Kate, why you undid me: for the one, I
+	have neither words nor measure, and for the other, I
+	have no strength in measure, yet a reasonable
+	measure in strength. If I could win a lady at
+	leap-frog, or by vaulting into my saddle with my
+	armour on my back, under the correction of bragging
+	be it spoken. I should quickly leap into a wife.
+	Or if I might buffet for my love, or bound my horse
+	for her favours, I could lay on like a butcher and
+	sit like a jack-an-apes, never off. But, before God,
+	Kate, I cannot look greenly nor gasp out my
+	eloquence, nor I have no cunning in protestation;
+	only downright oaths, which I never use till urged,
+	nor never break for urging. If thou canst love a
+	fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth
+	sun-burning, that never looks in his glass for love
+	of any thing he sees there, let thine eye be thy
+	cook. I speak to thee plain soldier: If thou canst
+	love me for this, take me: if not, to say to thee
+	that I shall die, is true; but for thy love, by the
+	Lord, no; yet I love thee too. And while thou
+	livest, dear Kate, take a fellow of plain and
+	uncoined constancy; for he perforce must do thee
+	right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other
+	places: for these fellows of infinite tongue, that
+	can rhyme themselves into ladies' favours, they do
+	always reason themselves out again. What! a
+	speaker is but a prater; a rhyme is but a ballad. A
+	good leg will fall; a straight back will stoop; a
+	black beard will turn white; a curled pate will grow
+	bald; a fair face will wither; a full eye will wax
+	hollow: but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the
+	moon; or, rather, the sun, and not the moon; for it
+	shines bright and never changes, but keeps his
+	course truly. If thou would have such a one, take
+	me; and take me, take a soldier; take a soldier,
+	take a king. And what sayest thou then to my love?
+	speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.
+
+KATHARINE	Is it possible dat I sould love de enemy of France?
+
+KING HENRY V	No; it is not possible you should love the enemy of
+	France, Kate: but, in loving me, you should love
+	the friend of France; for I love France so well that
+	I will not part with a village of it; I will have it
+	all mine: and, Kate, when France is mine and I am
+	yours, then yours is France and you are mine.
+
+KATHARINE	I cannot tell vat is dat.
+
+KING HENRY V	No, Kate? I will tell thee in French; which I am
+	sure will hang upon my tongue like a new-married
+	wife about her husband's neck, hardly to be shook
+	off. Je quand sur le possession de France, et quand
+	vous avez le possession de moi,--let me see, what
+	then? Saint Denis be my speed!--donc votre est
+	France et vous etes mienne. It is as easy for me,
+	Kate, to conquer the kingdom as to speak so much
+	more French: I shall never move thee in French,
+	unless it be to laugh at me.
+
+KATHARINE	Sauf votre honneur, le Francois que vous parlez, il
+	est meilleur que l'Anglois lequel je parle.
+
+KING HENRY V	No, faith, is't not, Kate: but thy speaking of my
+	tongue, and I thine, most truly-falsely, must needs
+	be granted to be much at one. But, Kate, dost thou
+	understand thus much English, canst thou love me?
+
+KATHARINE	I cannot tell.
+
+KING HENRY V	Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate? I'll ask
+	them. Come, I know thou lovest me: and at night,
+	when you come into your closet, you'll question this
+	gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to
+	her dispraise those parts in me that you love with
+	your heart: but, good Kate, mock me mercifully; the
+	rather, gentle princess, because I love thee
+	cruelly. If ever thou beest mine, Kate, as I have a
+	saving faith within me tells me thou shalt, I get
+	thee with scambling, and thou must therefore needs
+	prove a good soldier-breeder: shall not thou and I,
+	between Saint Denis and Saint George, compound a
+	boy, half French, half English, that shall go to
+	Constantinople and take the Turk by the beard?
+	shall we not? what sayest thou, my fair
+	flower-de-luce?
+
+KATHARINE	I do not know dat
+
+KING HENRY V	No; 'tis hereafter to know, but now to promise: do
+	but now promise, Kate, you will endeavour for your
+	French part of such a boy; and for my English moiety
+	take the word of a king and a bachelor. How answer
+	you, la plus belle Katharine du monde, mon tres cher
+	et devin deesse?
+
+KATHARINE	Your majestee ave fausse French enough to deceive de
+	most sage demoiselle dat is en France.
+
+KING HENRY V	Now, fie upon my false French! By mine honour, in
+	true English, I love thee, Kate: by which honour I
+	dare not swear thou lovest me; yet my blood begins to
+	flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the poor
+	and untempering effect of my visage. Now, beshrew
+	my father's ambition! he was thinking of civil wars
+	when he got me: therefore was I created with a
+	stubborn outside, with an aspect of iron, that, when
+	I come to woo ladies, I fright them. But, in faith,
+	Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appear:
+	my comfort is, that old age, that ill layer up of
+	beauty, can do no more, spoil upon my face: thou
+	hast me, if thou hast me, at the worst; and thou
+	shalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and better:
+	and therefore tell me, most fair Katharine, will you
+	have me? Put off your maiden blushes; avouch the
+	thoughts of your heart with the looks of an empress;
+	take me by the hand, and say 'Harry of England I am
+	thine:' which word thou shalt no sooner bless mine
+	ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud 'England is
+	thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Harry
+	Plantagenet is thine;' who though I speak it before
+	his face, if he be not fellow with the best king,
+	thou shalt find the best king of good fellows.
+	Come, your answer in broken music; for thy voice is
+	music and thy English broken; therefore, queen of
+	all, Katharine, break thy mind to me in broken
+	English; wilt thou have me?
+
+KATHARINE	Dat is as it sall please de roi mon pere.
+
+KING HENRY V	Nay, it will please him well, Kate it shall please
+	him, Kate.
+
+KATHARINE	Den it sall also content me.
+
+KING HENRY V	Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call you my queen.
+
+KATHARINE	Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez: ma foi, je
+	ne veux point que vous abaissiez votre grandeur en
+	baisant la main d'une de votre seigeurie indigne
+	serviteur; excusez-moi, je vous supplie, mon
+	tres-puissant seigneur.
+
+KING HENRY V	Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.
+
+KATHARINE	Les dames et demoiselles pour etre baisees devant
+	leur noces, il n'est pas la coutume de France.
+
+KING HENRY V	Madam my interpreter, what says she?
+
+ALICE	Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of
+	France,--I cannot tell vat is baiser en Anglish.
+
+KING HENRY V	To kiss.
+
+ALICE	Your majesty entendre bettre que moi.
+
+KING HENRY V	It is not a fashion for the maids in France to kiss
+	before they are married, would she say?
+
+ALICE	Oui, vraiment.
+
+KING HENRY V	O Kate, nice customs curtsy to great kings. Dear
+	Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the weak
+	list of a country's fashion: we are the makers of
+	manners, Kate; and the liberty that follows our
+	places stops the mouth of all find-faults; as I will
+	do yours, for upholding the nice fashion of your
+	country in denying me a kiss: therefore, patiently
+	and yielding.
+
+	[Kissing her]
+
+	You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate: there is
+	more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the
+	tongues of the French council; and they should
+	sooner persuade Harry of England than a general
+	petition of monarchs. Here comes your father.
+
+	[Re-enter the FRENCH KING and his QUEEN, BURGUNDY,
+	and other Lords]
+
+BURGUNDY	God save your majesty! my royal cousin, teach you
+	our princess English?
+
+KING HENRY V	I would have her learn, my fair cousin, how
+	perfectly I love her; and that is good English.
+
+BURGUNDY	Is she not apt?
+
+KING HENRY V	Our tongue is rough, coz, and my condition is not
+	smooth; so that, having neither the voice nor the
+	heart of flattery about me, I cannot so conjure up
+	the spirit of love in her, that he will appear in
+	his true likeness.
+
+BURGUNDY	Pardon the frankness of my mirth, if I answer you
+	for that. If you would conjure in her, you must
+	make a circle; if conjure up love in her in his true
+	likeness, he must appear naked and blind. Can you
+	blame her then, being a maid yet rosed over with the
+	virgin crimson of modesty, if she deny the
+	appearance of a naked blind boy in her naked seeing
+	self? It were, my lord, a hard condition for a maid
+	to consign to.
+
+KING HENRY V	Yet they do wink and yield, as love is blind and enforces.
+
+BURGUNDY	They are then excused, my lord, when they see not
+	what they do.
+
+KING HENRY V	Then, good my lord, teach your cousin to consent winking.
+
+BURGUNDY	I will wink on her to consent, my lord, if you will
+	teach her to know my meaning: for maids, well
+	summered and warm kept, are like flies at
+	Bartholomew-tide, blind, though they have their
+	eyes; and then they will endure handling, which
+	before would not abide looking on.
+
+KING HENRY V	This moral ties me over to time and a hot summer;
+	and so I shall catch the fly, your cousin, in the
+	latter end and she must be blind too.
+
+BURGUNDY	As love is, my lord, before it loves.
+
+KING HENRY V	It is so: and you may, some of you, thank love for
+	my blindness, who cannot see many a fair French city
+	for one fair French maid that stands in my way.
+
+FRENCH KING	Yes, my lord, you see them perspectively, the cities
+	turned into a maid; for they are all girdled with
+	maiden walls that war hath never entered.
+
+KING HENRY V	Shall Kate be my wife?
+
+FRENCH KING	So please you.
+
+KING HENRY V	I am content; so the maiden cities you talk of may
+	wait on her: so the maid that stood in the way for
+	my wish shall show me the way to my will.
+
+FRENCH KING	We have consented to all terms of reason.
+
+KING HENRY V	Is't so, my lords of England?
+
+WESTMORELAND	The king hath granted every article:
+	His daughter first, and then in sequel all,
+	According to their firm proposed natures.
+
+EXETER	Only he hath not yet subscribed this:
+	Where your majesty demands, that the King of France,
+	having any occasion to write for matter of grant,
+	shall name your highness in this form and with this
+	addition in French, Notre trescher fils Henri, Roi
+	d'Angleterre, Heritier de France; and thus in
+	Latin, Praeclarissimus filius noster Henricus, Rex
+	Angliae, et Haeres Franciae.
+
+FRENCH KING	Nor this I have not, brother, so denied,
+	But your request shall make me let it pass.
+
+KING HENRY V	I pray you then, in love and dear alliance,
+	Let that one article rank with the rest;
+	And thereupon give me your daughter.
+
+FRENCH KING	Take her, fair son, and from her blood raise up
+	Issue to me; that the contending kingdoms
+	Of France and England, whose very shores look pale
+	With envy of each other's happiness,
+	May cease their hatred, and this dear conjunction
+	Plant neighbourhood and Christian-like accord
+	In their sweet bosoms, that never war advance
+	His bleeding sword 'twixt England and fair France.
+
+ALL	Amen!
+
+KING HENRY V	Now, welcome, Kate: and bear me witness all,
+	That here I kiss her as my sovereign queen.
+
+	[Flourish]
+
+QUEEN ISABEL	God, the best maker of all marriages,
+	Combine your hearts in one, your realms in one!
+	As man and wife, being two, are one in love,
+	So be there 'twixt your kingdoms such a spousal,
+	That never may ill office, or fell jealousy,
+	Which troubles oft the bed of blessed marriage,
+	Thrust in between the paction of these kingdoms,
+	To make divorce of their incorporate league;
+	That English may as French, French Englishmen,
+	Receive each other. God speak this Amen!
+
+ALL	Amen!
+
+KING HENRY V	Prepare we for our marriage--on which day,
+	My Lord of Burgundy, we'll take your oath,
+	And all the peers', for surety of our leagues.
+	Then shall I swear to Kate, and you to me;
+	And may our oaths well kept and prosperous be!
+
+	[Sennet. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY V
+
+	EPILOGUE
+
+
+	[Enter Chorus]
+
+Chorus	Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen,
+	Our bending author hath pursued the story,
+	In little room confining mighty men,
+	Mangling by starts the full course of their glory.
+	Small time, but in that small most greatly lived
+	This star of England: Fortune made his sword;
+	By which the world's best garden be achieved,
+	And of it left his son imperial lord.
+	Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown'd King
+	Of France and England, did this king succeed;
+	Whose state so many had the managing,
+	That they lost France and made his England bleed:
+	Which oft our stage hath shown; and, for their sake,
+	In your fair minds let this acceptance take.
+
+	[Exit]
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+KING HENRY
+the Eighth	(KING HENRY VIII:)
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY:
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS:
+
+CAPUCIUS	Ambassador from the Emperor Charles V
+
+CRANMER	Archbishop of Canterbury.
+
+DUKE OF NORFOLK	(NORFOLK:)
+
+DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM	(BUCKINGHAM:)
+
+DUKE OF SUFFOLK	(SUFFOLK:)
+
+EARL OF SURREY	(SURREY:)
+
+Lord Chamberlain	(Chamberlain:)
+
+Lord Chancellor	(Chancellor:)
+
+GARDINER	Bishop of Winchester.
+
+	Bishop of Lincoln. (LINCOLN:)
+
+LORD ABERGAVENNY	(ABERGAVENNY:)
+
+LORD SANDS	(SANDS:)
+
+SIR HENRY
+GUILDFORD	(GUILDFORD:)
+
+SIR THOMAS LOVELL	(LOVELL:)
+
+SIR ANTHONY DENNY	(DENNY:)
+
+SIR NICHOLAS VAUX	(VAUX:)
+
+	Secretaries to Wolsey.
+	(First Secretary:)
+	(Second Secretary:)
+
+CROMWELL	Servant to Wolsey.
+
+GRIFFITH	Gentleman-usher to Queen Katharine.
+
+	Three Gentlemen.
+	(First Gentleman:)
+	(Second Gentleman:)
+	(Third Gentleman:)
+
+DOCTOR BUTTS	Physician to the King.
+
+	Garter King-at-Arms. (Garter:)
+
+	Surveyor to the Duke of Buckingham. (Surveyor:)
+
+BRANDON:
+
+	A Sergeant-at-Arms. (Sergeant:)
+
+	Door-keeper of the Council-chamber. Porter, (Porter:)
+	and his Man. (Man:)
+
+	Page to Gardiner. (Boy:)
+	A Crier. (Crier:)
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	(QUEEN KATHARINE:)  Wife to King Henry, afterwards
+	divorced. (KATHARINE:)
+
+ANNE BULLEN	(ANNE:) her Maid of Honour, afterwards Queen. (QUEEN ANNE:)
+
+	An old Lady, friend to Anne Bullen. (Old Lady:)
+
+PATIENCE	woman to Queen Katharine.
+
+	Several Lords and Ladies in the Dumb Shows; Women
+	attending upon the Queen; Scribes, Officers, Guards,
+	and other Attendants.
+	Spirits.
+
+	(Scribe:)
+	(Keeper:)
+	(Servant:)
+	(Messenger:)
+
+
+SCENE	London; Westminster; Kimbolton
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+	THE PROLOGUE
+
+
+	I come no more to make you laugh: things now,
+	That bear a weighty and a serious brow,
+	Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,
+	Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,
+	We now present. Those that can pity, here
+	May, if they think it well, let fall a tear;
+	The subject will deserve it. Such as give
+	Their money out of hope they may believe,
+	May here find truth too. Those that come to see
+	Only a show or two, and so agree
+	The play may pass, if they be still and willing,
+	I'll undertake may see away their shilling
+	Richly in two short hours. Only they
+	That come to hear a merry bawdy play,
+	A noise of targets, or to see a fellow
+	In a long motley coat guarded with yellow,
+	Will be deceived; for, gentle hearers, know,
+	To rank our chosen truth with such a show
+	As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting
+	Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring,
+	To make that only true we now intend,
+	Will leave us never an understanding friend.
+	Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known
+	The first and happiest hearers of the town,
+	Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see
+	The very persons of our noble story
+	As they were living; think you see them great,
+	And follow'd with the general throng and sweat
+	Of thousand friends; then in a moment, see
+	How soon this mightiness meets misery:
+	And, if you can be merry then, I'll say
+	A man may weep upon his wedding-day.
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. An ante-chamber in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter NORFOLK at one door; at the other, BUCKINGHAM
+	and ABERGAVENNY]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done
+	Since last we saw in France?
+
+NORFOLK	I thank your grace,
+	Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer
+	Of what I saw there.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	An untimely ague
+	Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when
+	Those suns of glory, those two lights of men,
+	Met in the vale of Andren.
+
+NORFOLK	'Twixt Guynes and Arde:
+	I was then present, saw them salute on horseback;
+	Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung
+	In their embracement, as they grew together;
+	Which had they, what four throned ones could have weigh'd
+	Such a compounded one?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	All the whole time
+	I was my chamber's prisoner.
+
+NORFOLK	Then you lost
+	The view of earthly glory: men might say,
+	Till this time pomp was single, but now married
+	To one above itself. Each following day
+	Became the next day's master, till the last
+	Made former wonders its. To-day the French,
+	All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods,
+	Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they
+	Made Britain India: every man that stood
+	Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
+	As cherubins, all guilt: the madams too,
+	Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear
+	The pride upon them, that their very labour
+	Was to them as a painting: now this masque
+	Was cried incomparable; and the ensuing night
+	Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings,
+	Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst,
+	As presence did present them; him in eye,
+	Still him in praise: and, being present both
+	'Twas said they saw but one; and no discerner
+	Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns--
+	For so they phrase 'em--by their heralds challenged
+	The noble spirits to arms, they did perform
+	Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous story,
+	Being now seen possible enough, got credit,
+	That Bevis was believed.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	O, you go far.
+
+NORFOLK	As I belong to worship and affect
+	In honour honesty, the tract of every thing
+	Would by a good discourser lose some life,
+	Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal;
+	To the disposing of it nought rebell'd.
+	Order gave each thing view; the office did
+	Distinctly his full function.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Who did guide,
+	I mean, who set the body and the limbs
+	Of this great sport together, as you guess?
+
+NORFOLK	One, certes, that promises no element
+	In such a business.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	I pray you, who, my lord?
+
+NORFOLK	All this was order'd by the good discretion
+	Of the right reverend Cardinal of York.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed
+	From his ambitious finger. What had he
+	To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder
+	That such a keech can with his very bulk
+	Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun
+	And keep it from the earth.
+
+NORFOLK	Surely, sir,
+	There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends;
+	For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace
+	Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon
+	For high feats done to the crown; neither allied
+	For eminent assistants; but, spider-like,
+	Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note,
+	The force of his own merit makes his way
+	A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys
+	A place next to the king.
+
+ABERGAVENNY	I cannot tell
+	What heaven hath given him,--let some graver eye
+	Pierce into that; but I can see his pride
+	Peep through each part of him: whence has he that,
+	If not from hell? the devil is a niggard,
+	Or has given all before, and he begins
+	A new hell in himself.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Why the devil,
+	Upon this French going out, took he upon him,
+	Without the privity o' the king, to appoint
+	Who should attend on him? He makes up the file
+	Of all the gentry; for the most part such
+	To whom as great a charge as little honour
+	He meant to lay upon: and his own letter,
+	The honourable board of council out,
+	Must fetch him in the papers.
+
+ABERGAVENNY	I do know
+	Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have
+	By this so sickened their estates, that never
+	They shall abound as formerly.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	O, many
+	Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em
+	For this great journey. What did this vanity
+	But minister communication of
+	A most poor issue?
+
+NORFOLK	                  Grievingly I think,
+	The peace between the French and us not values
+	The cost that did conclude it.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Every man,
+	After the hideous storm that follow'd, was
+	A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke
+	Into a general prophecy; That this tempest,
+	Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded
+	The sudden breach on't.
+
+NORFOLK	Which is budded out;
+	For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd
+	Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux.
+
+ABERGAVENNY	Is it therefore
+	The ambassador is silenced?
+
+NORFOLK	Marry, is't.
+
+ABERGAVENNY	A proper title of a peace; and purchased
+	At a superfluous rate!
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Why, all this business
+	Our reverend cardinal carried.
+
+NORFOLK	Like it your grace,
+	The state takes notice of the private difference
+	Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you--
+	And take it from a heart that wishes towards you
+	Honour and plenteous safety--that you read
+	The cardinal's malice and his potency
+	Together; to consider further that
+	What his high hatred would effect wants not
+	A minister in his power. You know his nature,
+	That he's revengeful, and I know his sword
+	Hath a sharp edge: it's long and, 't may be said,
+	It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend,
+	Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel,
+	You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock
+	That I advise your shunning.
+
+	[Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, the purse borne before him,
+	certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with
+	papers. CARDINAL WOLSEY in his passage fixeth his
+	eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full
+	of disdain]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha?
+	Where's his examination?
+
+First Secretary	Here, so please you.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Is he in person ready?
+
+First Secretary	Ay, please your grace.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham
+	Shall lessen this big look.
+
+	[Exeunt CARDINAL WOLSEY and his Train]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I
+	Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best
+	Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book
+	Outworths a noble's blood.
+
+NORFOLK	What, are you chafed?
+	Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only
+	Which your disease requires.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	I read in's looks
+	Matter against me; and his eye reviled
+	Me, as his abject object: at this instant
+	He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king;
+	I'll follow and outstare him.
+
+NORFOLK	Stay, my lord,
+	And let your reason with your choler question
+	What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills
+	Requires slow pace at first: anger is like
+	A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way,
+	Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England
+	Can advise me like you: be to yourself
+	As you would to your friend.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	I'll to the king;
+	And from a mouth of honour quite cry down
+	This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim
+	There's difference in no persons.
+
+NORFOLK	Be advised;
+	Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
+	That it do singe yourself: we may outrun,
+	By violent swiftness, that which we run at,
+	And lose by over-running. Know you not,
+	The fire that mounts the liquor til run o'er,
+	In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised:
+	I say again, there is no English soul
+	More stronger to direct you than yourself,
+	If with the sap of reason you would quench,
+	Or but allay, the fire of passion.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Sir,
+	I am thankful to you; and I'll go along
+	By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow,
+	Whom from the flow of gall I name not but
+	From sincere motions, by intelligence,
+	And proofs as clear as founts in July when
+	We see each grain of gravel, I do know
+	To be corrupt and treasonous.
+
+NORFOLK	Say not 'treasonous.'
+
+BUCKINGHAM	To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch as strong
+	As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox,
+	Or wolf, or both,--for he is equal ravenous
+	As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief
+	As able to perform't; his mind and place
+	Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally--
+	Only to show his pomp as well in France
+	As here at home, suggests the king our master
+	To this last costly treaty, the interview,
+	That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass
+	Did break i' the rinsing.
+
+NORFOLK	Faith, and so it did.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal
+	The articles o' the combination drew
+	As himself pleased; and they were ratified
+	As he cried 'Thus let be': to as much end
+	As give a crutch to the dead: but our count-cardinal
+	Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey,
+	Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows,--
+	Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy
+	To the old dam, treason,--Charles the emperor,
+	Under pretence to see the queen his aunt--
+	For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came
+	To whisper Wolsey,--here makes visitation:
+	His fears were, that the interview betwixt
+	England and France might, through their amity,
+	Breed him some prejudice; for from this league
+	Peep'd harms that menaced him: he privily
+	Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,--
+	Which I do well; for I am sure the emperor
+	Paid ere he promised; whereby his suit was granted
+	Ere it was ask'd; but when the way was made,
+	And paved with gold, the emperor thus desired,
+	That he would please to alter the king's course,
+	And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know,
+	As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal
+	Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases,
+	And for his own advantage.
+
+NORFOLK	I am sorry
+	To hear this of him; and could wish he were
+	Something mistaken in't.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	No, not a syllable:
+	I  do pronounce him in that very shape
+	He shall appear in proof.
+
+	[Enter BRANDON, a Sergeant-at-arms before him, and
+	two or three of the Guard]
+
+BRANDON	Your office, sergeant; execute it.
+
+Sergeant	Sir,
+	My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl
+	Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I
+	Arrest thee of high treason, in the name
+	Of our most sovereign king.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Lo, you, my lord,
+	The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish
+	Under device and practise.
+
+BRANDON	I am sorry
+	To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on
+	The business present: 'tis his highness' pleasure
+	You shall to the Tower.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	It will help me nothing
+	To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me
+	Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven
+	Be done in this and all things! I obey.
+	O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well!
+
+BRANDON	Nay, he must bear you company. The king
+
+	[To ABERGAVENNY]
+
+	Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know
+	How he determines further.
+
+ABERGAVENNY	As the duke said,
+	The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure
+	By me obey'd!
+
+BRANDON	                  Here is a warrant from
+	The king to attach Lord Montacute; and the bodies
+	Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car,
+	One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor--
+
+BUCKINGHAM	So, so;
+	These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope.
+
+BRANDON	A monk o' the Chartreux.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	O, Nicholas Hopkins?
+
+BRANDON	He.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal
+	Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already:
+	I am the shadow of poor Buckingham,
+	Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on,
+	By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. The council-chamber.
+
+
+	[Cornets. Enter KING HENRY VIII, leaning on
+	CARDINAL WOLSEY's shoulder, the Nobles, and LOVELL;
+	CARDINAL WOLSEY places himself under KING HENRY
+	VIII's feet on his right side]
+
+KING HENRY VIII	My life itself, and the best heart of it,
+	Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level
+	Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks
+	To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us
+	That gentleman of Buckingham's; in person
+	I'll hear him his confessions justify;
+	And point by point the treasons of his master
+	He shall again relate.
+
+	[A noise within, crying 'Room for the Queen!' Enter
+	QUEEN KATHARINE, ushered by NORFOLK, and SUFFOLK:
+	she kneels. KING HENRY VIII riseth from his state,
+	takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him]
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Arise, and take place by us: half your suit
+	Never name to us; you have half our power:
+	The other moiety, ere you ask, is given;
+	Repeat your will and take it.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Thank your majesty.
+	That you would love yourself, and in that love
+	Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor
+	The dignity of your office, is the point
+	Of my petition.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	                  Lady mine, proceed.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	I am solicited, not by a few,
+	And those of true condition, that your subjects
+	Are in great grievance: there have been commissions
+	Sent down among 'em, which hath flaw'd the heart
+	Of all their loyalties: wherein, although,
+	My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches
+	Most bitterly on you, as putter on
+	Of these exactions, yet the king our master--
+	Whose honour heaven shield from soil!--even he
+	escapes not
+	Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks
+	The sides of loyalty, and almost appears
+	In loud rebellion.
+
+NORFOLK	                  Not almost appears,
+	It doth appear; for, upon these taxations,
+	The clothiers all, not able to maintain
+	The many to them longing, have put off
+	The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who,
+	Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger
+	And lack of other means, in desperate manner
+	Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar,
+	And danger serves among then!
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Taxation!
+	Wherein? and what taxation? My lord cardinal,
+	You that are blamed for it alike with us,
+	Know you of this taxation?
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Please you, sir,
+	I know but of a single part, in aught
+	Pertains to the state; and front but in that file
+	Where others tell steps with me.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	No, my lord,
+	You know no more than others; but you frame
+	Things that are known alike; which are not wholesome
+	To those which would not know them, and yet must
+	Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions,
+	Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are
+	Most pestilent to the bearing; and, to bear 'em,
+	The back is sacrifice to the load. They say
+	They are devised by you; or else you suffer
+	Too hard an exclamation.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Still exaction!
+	The nature of it? in what kind, let's know,
+	Is this exaction?
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	                  I am much too venturous
+	In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd
+	Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief
+	Comes through commissions, which compel from each
+	The sixth part of his substance, to be levied
+	Without delay; and the pretence for this
+	Is named, your wars in France: this makes bold mouths:
+	Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze
+	Allegiance in them; their curses now
+	Live where their prayers did: and it's come to pass,
+	This tractable obedience is a slave
+	To each incensed will. I would your highness
+	Would give it quick consideration, for
+	There is no primer business.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	By my life,
+	This is against our pleasure.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	And for me,
+	I have no further gone in this than by
+	A single voice; and that not pass'd me but
+	By learned approbation of the judges. If I am
+	Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither know
+	My faculties nor person, yet will be
+	The chronicles of my doing, let me say
+	'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake
+	That virtue must go through. We must not stint
+	Our necessary actions, in the fear
+	To cope malicious censurers; which ever,
+	As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow
+	That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further
+	Than vainly longing. What we oft do best,
+	By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is
+	Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft,
+	Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up
+	For our best act. If we shall stand still,
+	In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at,
+	We should take root here where we sit, or sit
+	State-statues only.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Things done well,
+	And with a care, exempt themselves from fear;
+	Things done without example, in their issue
+	Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent
+	Of this commission? I believe, not any.
+	We must not rend our subjects from our laws,
+	And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each?
+	A trembling contribution! Why, we take
+	From every tree lop, bark, and part o' the timber;
+	And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd,
+	The air will drink the sap. To every county
+	Where this is question'd send our letters, with
+	Free pardon to each man that has denied
+	The force of this commission: pray, look to't;
+	I put it to your care.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	A word with you.
+
+	[To the Secretary]
+
+	Let there be letters writ to every shire,
+	Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved commons
+	Hardly conceive of me; let it be noised
+	That through our intercession this revokement
+	And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you
+	Further in the proceeding.
+
+	[Exit Secretary]
+
+	[Enter Surveyor]
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham
+	Is run in your displeasure.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	It grieves many:
+	The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare speaker;
+	To nature none more bound; his training such,
+	That he may furnish and instruct great teachers,
+	And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see,
+	When these so noble benefits shall prove
+	Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt,
+	They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly
+	Than ever they were fair. This man so complete,
+	Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we,
+	Almost with ravish'd listening, could not find
+	His hour of speech a minute; he, my lady,
+	Hath into monstrous habits put the graces
+	That once were his, and is become as black
+	As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear--
+	This was his gentleman in trust--of him
+	Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount
+	The fore-recited practises; whereof
+	We cannot feel too little, hear too much.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you,
+	Most like a careful subject, have collected
+	Out of the Duke of Buckingham.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Speak freely.
+
+Surveyor	First, it was usual with him, every day
+	It would infect his speech, that if the king
+	Should without issue die, he'll carry it so
+	To make the sceptre his: these very words
+	I've heard him utter to his son-in-law,
+	Lord Abergavenny; to whom by oath he menaced
+	Revenge upon the cardinal.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Please your highness, note
+	This dangerous conception in this point.
+	Not friended by by his wish, to your high person
+	His will is most malignant; and it stretches
+	Beyond you, to your friends.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	My learn'd lord cardinal,
+	Deliver all with charity.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Speak on:
+	How grounded he his title to the crown,
+	Upon our fail? to this point hast thou heard him
+	At any time speak aught?
+
+Surveyor	He was brought to this
+	By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	What was that Hopkins?
+
+Surveyor	Sir, a Chartreux friar,
+	His confessor, who fed him every minute
+	With words of sovereignty.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	How know'st thou this?
+
+Surveyor	Not long before your highness sped to France,
+	The duke being at the Rose, within the parish
+	Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand
+	What was the speech among the Londoners
+	Concerning the French journey: I replied,
+	Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious,
+	To the king's danger. Presently the duke
+	Said, 'twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted
+	'Twould prove the verity of certain words
+	Spoke by a holy monk; 'that oft,' says he,
+	'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
+	John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour
+	To hear from him a matter of some moment:
+	Whom after under the confession's seal
+	He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke
+	My chaplain to no creature living, but
+	To me, should utter, with demure confidence
+	This pausingly ensued: neither the king nor's heirs,
+	Tell you the duke, shall prosper: bid him strive
+	To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke
+	Shall govern England.'
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	If I know you well,
+	You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office
+	On the complaint o' the tenants: take good heed
+	You charge not in your spleen a noble person
+	And spoil your nobler soul: I say, take heed;
+	Yes, heartily beseech you.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Let him on.
+	Go forward.
+
+Surveyor	     On my soul, I'll speak but truth.
+	I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions
+	The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas dangerous for him
+	To ruminate on this so far, until
+	It forged him some design, which, being believed,
+	It was much like to do: he answer'd, 'Tush,
+	It can do me no damage;' adding further,
+	That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd,
+	The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads
+	Should have gone off.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha!
+	There's mischief in this man: canst thou say further?
+
+Surveyor	I can, my liege.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	                  Proceed.
+
+Surveyor	Being at Greenwich,
+	After your highness had reproved the duke
+	About Sir William Blomer,--
+
+KING HENRY VIII	I remember
+	Of such a time: being my sworn servant,
+	The duke retain'd him his. But on; what hence?
+
+Surveyor	'If,' quoth he, 'I for this had been committed,
+	As, to the Tower, I thought, I would have play'd
+	The part my father meant to act upon
+	The usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury,
+	Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted,
+	As he made semblance of his duty, would
+	Have put his knife to him.'
+
+KING HENRY VIII	A giant traitor!
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom,
+	and this man out of prison?
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	God mend all!
+
+KING HENRY VIII	There's something more would out of thee; what say'st?
+
+Surveyor	After 'the duke his father,' with 'the knife,'
+	He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger,
+	Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes
+	He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenor
+	Was,--were he evil used, he would outgo
+	His father by as much as a performance
+	Does an irresolute purpose.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	There's his period,
+	To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach'd;
+	Call him to present trial: if he may
+	Find mercy in the law, 'tis his: if none,
+	Let him not seek 't of us: by day and night,
+	He's traitor to the height.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	An ante-chamber in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter Chamberlain and SANDS]
+
+Chamberlain	Is't possible the spells of France should juggle
+	Men into such strange mysteries?
+
+SANDS	New customs,
+	Though they be never so ridiculous,
+	Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd.
+
+Chamberlain	As far as I see, all the good our English
+	Have got by the late voyage is but merely
+	A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd ones;
+	For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly
+	Their very noses had been counsellors
+	To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so.
+
+SANDS	They have all new legs, and lame ones: one would take it,
+	That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin
+	Or springhalt reign'd among 'em.
+
+Chamberlain	Death! my lord,
+	Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too,
+	That, sure, they've worn out Christendom.
+
+	[Enter LOVELL]
+
+		                  How now!
+	What news, Sir Thomas Lovell?
+
+LOVELL	Faith, my lord,
+	I hear of none, but the new proclamation
+	That's clapp'd upon the court-gate.
+
+Chamberlain	What is't for?
+
+LOVELL	The reformation of our travell'd gallants,
+	That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors.
+
+Chamberlain	I'm glad 'tis there: now I would pray our monsieurs
+	To think an English courtier may be wise,
+	And never see the Louvre.
+
+LOVELL	They must either,
+	For so run the conditions, leave those remnants
+	Of fool and feather that they got in France,
+	With all their honourable point of ignorance
+	Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks,
+	Abusing better men than they can be,
+	Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean
+	The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings,
+	Short blister'd breeches, and those types of travel,
+	And understand again like honest men;
+	Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it,
+	They may, 'cum privilegio,' wear away
+	The lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at.
+
+SANDS	'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases
+	Are grown so catching.
+
+Chamberlain	What a loss our ladies
+	Will have of these trim vanities!
+
+LOVELL	Ay, marry,
+	There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whoresons
+	Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies;
+	A French song and a fiddle has no fellow.
+
+SANDS	The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going,
+	For, sure, there's no converting of 'em: now
+	An honest country lord, as I am, beaten
+	A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong
+	And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r lady,
+	Held current music too.
+
+Chamberlain	Well said, Lord Sands;
+	Your colt's tooth is not cast yet.
+
+SANDS	No, my lord;
+	Nor shall not, while I have a stump.
+
+Chamberlain	Sir Thomas,
+	Whither were you a-going?
+
+LOVELL	To the cardinal's:
+	Your lordship is a guest too.
+
+Chamberlain	O, 'tis true:
+	This night he makes a supper, and a great one,
+	To many lords and ladies; there will be
+	The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you.
+
+LOVELL	That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed,
+	A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us;
+	His dews fall every where.
+
+Chamberlain	No doubt he's noble;
+	He had a black mouth that said other of him.
+
+SANDS	He may, my lord; has wherewithal: in him
+	Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine:
+	Men of his way should be most liberal;
+	They are set here for examples.
+
+Chamberlain	True, they are so:
+	But few now give so great ones. My barge stays;
+	Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas,
+	We shall be late else; which I would not be,
+	For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford
+	This night to be comptrollers.
+
+SANDS	I am your lordship's.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A Hall in York Place.
+
+
+	[Hautboys. A small table under a state for CARDINAL
+	WOLSEY, a longer table for the guests. Then enter
+	ANNE and divers other Ladies and Gentlemen as
+	guests, at one door; at another door, enter
+	GUILDFORD]
+
+GUILDFORD	Ladies, a general welcome from his grace
+	Salutes ye all; this night he dedicates
+	To fair content and you: none here, he hopes,
+	In all this noble bevy, has brought with her
+	One care abroad; he would have all as merry
+	As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome,
+	Can make good people. O, my lord, you're tardy:
+
+	[Enter Chamberlain, SANDS, and LOVELL]
+
+	The very thought of this fair company
+	Clapp'd wings to me.
+
+Chamberlain	You are young, Sir Harry Guildford.
+
+SANDS	Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal
+	But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these
+	Should find a running banquet ere they rested,
+	I think would better please 'em: by my life,
+	They are a sweet society of fair ones.
+
+LOVELL	O, that your lordship were but now confessor
+	To one or two of these!
+
+SANDS	I would I were;
+	They should find easy penance.
+
+LOVELL	Faith, how easy?
+
+SANDS	As easy as a down-bed would afford it.
+
+Chamberlain	Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry,
+	Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this:
+	His grace is entering. Nay, you must not freeze;
+	Two women placed together makes cold weather:
+	My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking;
+	Pray, sit between these ladies.
+
+SANDS	By my faith,
+	And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies:
+	If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me;
+	I had it from my father.
+
+ANNE	Was he mad, sir?
+
+SANDS	O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too:
+	But he would bite none; just as I do now,
+	He would kiss you twenty with a breath.
+
+	[Kisses her]
+
+Chamberlain	Well said, my lord.
+	So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen,
+	The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies
+	Pass away frowning.
+
+SANDS	For my little cure,
+	Let me alone.
+
+	[Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, and takes his state]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	You're welcome, my fair guests: that noble lady,
+	Or gentleman, that is not freely merry,
+	Is not my friend: this, to confirm my welcome;
+	And to you all, good health.
+
+	[Drinks]
+
+SANDS	Your grace is noble:
+	Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks,
+	And save me so much talking.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	My Lord Sands,
+	I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours.
+	Ladies, you are not merry: gentlemen,
+	Whose fault is this?
+
+SANDS	The red wine first must rise
+	In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em
+	Talk us to silence.
+
+ANNE	You are a merry gamester,
+	My Lord Sands.
+
+SANDS	                  Yes, if I make my play.
+	Here's to your ladyship: and pledge it, madam,
+	For 'tis to such a thing,--
+
+ANNE	You cannot show me.
+
+SANDS	I told your grace they would talk anon.
+
+	[Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	What's that?
+
+Chamberlain	Look out there, some of ye.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	What warlike voice,
+	And to what end is this? Nay, ladies, fear not;
+	By all the laws of war you're privileged.
+
+	[Re-enter Servant]
+
+Chamberlain	How now! what is't?
+
+Servant	A noble troop of strangers;
+	For so they seem: they've left their barge and landed;
+	And hither make, as great ambassadors
+	From foreign princes.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Good lord chamberlain,
+	Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue;
+	And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em
+	Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty
+	Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him.
+
+	[Exit Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed]
+
+	You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it.
+	A good digestion to you all: and once more
+	I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all.
+
+	[Hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VIII and others, as
+	masquers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the
+	Chamberlain. They pass directly before CARDINAL
+	WOLSEY, and gracefully salute him]
+
+	A noble company! what are their pleasures?
+
+Chamberlain	Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd
+	To tell your grace, that, having heard by fame
+	Of this so noble and so fair assembly
+	This night to meet here, they could do no less
+	Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,
+	But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct,
+	Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat
+	An hour of revels with 'em.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Say, lord chamberlain,
+	They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em
+	A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures.
+
+	[They choose Ladies for the dance. KING HENRY VIII
+	chooses ANNE]
+
+KING HENRY VIII	The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty,
+	Till now I never knew thee!
+
+	[Music. Dance]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	My lord!
+
+Chamberlain	Your grace?
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Pray, tell 'em thus much from me:
+	There should be one amongst 'em, by his person,
+	More worthy this place than myself; to whom,
+	If I but knew him, with my love and duty
+	I would surrender it.
+
+Chamberlain	I will, my lord.
+
+	[Whispers the Masquers]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	What say they?
+
+Chamberlain	                  Such a one, they all confess,
+	There is indeed; which they would have your grace
+	Find out, and he will take it.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Let me see, then.
+	By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I'll make
+	My royal choice.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	                  Ye have found him, cardinal:
+
+	[Unmasking]
+
+	You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord:
+	You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal,
+	I should judge now unhappily.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	I am glad
+	Your grace is grown so pleasant.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	My lord chamberlain,
+	Prithee, come hither: what fair lady's that?
+
+Chamberlain	An't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter--
+	The Viscount Rochford,--one of her highness' women.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart,
+	I were unmannerly, to take you out,
+	And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen!
+	Let it go round.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready
+	I' the privy chamber?
+
+LOVELL	Yes, my lord.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Your grace,
+	I fear, with dancing is a little heated.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	I fear, too much.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	                  There's fresher air, my lord,
+	In the next chamber.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Lead in your ladies, every one: sweet partner,
+	I must not yet forsake you: let's be merry:
+	Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths
+	To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure
+	To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream
+	Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it.
+
+	[Exeunt with trumpets]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Westminster. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter two Gentlemen, meeting]
+
+First Gentleman	Whither away so fast?
+
+Second Gentleman	O, God save ye!
+	Even to the hall, to hear what shall become
+	Of the great Duke of Buckingham.
+
+First Gentleman	I'll save you
+	That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony
+	Of bringing back the prisoner.
+
+Second Gentleman	Were you there?
+
+First Gentleman	Yes, indeed, was I.
+
+Second Gentleman	Pray, speak what has happen'd.
+
+First Gentleman	You may guess quickly what.
+
+Second Gentleman	Is he found guilty?
+
+First Gentleman	Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't.
+
+Second Gentleman	I am sorry for't.
+
+First Gentleman	                  So are a number more.
+
+Second Gentleman	But, pray, how pass'd it?
+
+First Gentleman	I'll tell you in a little. The great duke
+	Came to the bar; where to his accusations
+	He pleaded still not guilty and alleged
+	Many sharp reasons to defeat the law.
+	The king's attorney on the contrary
+	Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions
+	Of divers witnesses; which the duke desired
+	To have brought viva voce to his face:
+	At which appear'd against him his surveyor;
+	Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car,
+	Confessor to him; with that devil-monk,
+	Hopkins, that made this mischief.
+
+Second Gentleman	That was he
+	That fed him with his prophecies?
+
+First Gentleman	The same.
+	All these accused him strongly; which he fain
+	Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could not:
+	And so his peers, upon this evidence,
+	Have found him guilty of high treason. Much
+	He spoke, and learnedly, for life; but all
+	Was either pitied in him or forgotten.
+
+Second Gentleman	After all this, how did he bear himself?
+
+First Gentleman	When he was brought again to the bar, to hear
+	His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'd
+	With such an agony, he sweat extremely,
+	And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty:
+	But he fell to himself again, and sweetly
+	In all the rest show'd a most noble patience.
+
+Second Gentleman	I do not think he fears death.
+
+First Gentleman	Sure, he does not:
+	He never was so womanish; the cause
+	He may a little grieve at.
+
+Second Gentleman	Certainly
+	The cardinal is the end of this.
+
+First Gentleman	'Tis likely,
+	By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder,
+	Then deputy of Ireland; who removed,
+	Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too,
+	Lest he should help his father.
+
+Second Gentleman	That trick of state
+	Was a deep envious one.
+
+First Gentleman	At his return
+	No doubt he will requite it. This is noted,
+	And generally, whoever the king favours,
+	The cardinal instantly will find employment,
+	And far enough from court too.
+
+Second Gentleman	All the commons
+	Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience,
+	Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much
+	They love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham,
+	The mirror of all courtesy;--
+
+First Gentleman	Stay there, sir,
+	And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of.
+
+	[Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment; tip-staves
+	before him; the axe with the edge towards him;
+	halberds on each side: accompanied with LOVELL,
+	VAUX, SANDS, and common people]
+
+Second Gentleman	Let's stand close, and behold him.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	All good people,
+	You that thus far have come to pity me,
+	Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me.
+	I have this day received a traitor's judgment,
+	And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness,
+	And if I have a conscience, let it sink me,
+	Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful!
+	The law I bear no malice for my death;
+	'T has done, upon the premises, but justice:
+	But those that sought it I could wish more Christians:
+	Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em:
+	Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief,
+	Nor build their evils on the graves of great men;
+	For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'em.
+	For further life in this world I ne'er hope,
+	Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies
+	More than I dare make faults. You few that loved me,
+	And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham,
+	His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave
+	Is only bitter to him, only dying,
+	Go with me, like good angels, to my end;
+	And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me,
+	Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice,
+	And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's name.
+
+LOVELL	I do beseech your grace, for charity,
+	If ever any malice in your heart
+	Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you
+	As I would be forgiven: I forgive all;
+	There cannot be those numberless offences
+	'Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with:
+	no black envy
+	Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his grace;
+	And if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him
+	You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers
+	Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake,
+	Shall cry for blessings on him: may he live
+	Longer than I have time to tell his years!
+	Ever beloved and loving may his rule be!
+	And when old time shall lead him to his end,
+	Goodness and he fill up one monument!
+
+LOVELL	To the water side I must conduct your grace;
+	Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux,
+	Who undertakes you to your end.
+
+VAUX	Prepare there,
+	The duke is coming: see the barge be ready;
+	And fit it with such furniture as suits
+	The greatness of his person.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Nay, Sir Nicholas,
+	Let it alone; my state now will but mock me.
+	When I came hither, I was lord high constable
+	And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun:
+	Yet I am richer than my base accusers,
+	That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it;
+	And with that blood will make 'em one day groan for't.
+	My noble father, Henry of Buckingham,
+	Who first raised head against usurping Richard,
+	Flying for succor to his servant Banister,
+	Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd,
+	And without trial fell; God's peace be with him!
+	Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying
+	My father's loss, like a most royal prince,
+	Restored me to my honours, and, out of ruins,
+	Made my name once more noble. Now his son,
+	Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name and all
+	That made me happy at one stroke has taken
+	For ever from the world. I had my trial,
+	And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me,
+	A little happier than my wretched father:
+	Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both
+	Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most;
+	A most unnatural and faithless service!
+	Heaven has an end in all: yet, you that hear me,
+	This from a dying man receive as certain:
+	Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels
+	Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends
+	And give your hearts to, when they once perceive
+	The least rub in your fortunes, fall away
+	Like water from ye, never found again
+	But where they mean to sink ye. All good people,
+	Pray for me! I must now forsake ye: the last hour
+	Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell:
+	And when you would say something that is sad,
+	Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me!
+
+	[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Train]
+
+First Gentleman	O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls,
+	I fear, too many curses on their beads
+	That were the authors.
+
+Second Gentleman	If the duke be guiltless,
+	'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling
+	Of an ensuing evil, if it fall,
+	Greater than this.
+
+First Gentleman	                  Good angels keep it from us!
+	What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir?
+
+Second Gentleman	This secret is so weighty, 'twill require
+	A strong faith to conceal it.
+
+First Gentleman	Let me have it;
+	I do not talk much.
+
+Second Gentleman	I am confident,
+	You shall, sir: did you not of late days hear
+	A buzzing of a separation
+	Between the king and Katharine?
+
+First Gentleman	Yes, but it held not:
+	For when the king once heard it, out of anger
+	He sent command to the lord mayor straight
+	To stop the rumor, and allay those tongues
+	That durst disperse it.
+
+Second Gentleman	But that slander, sir,
+	Is found a truth now: for it grows again
+	Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain
+	The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal,
+	Or some about him near, have, out of malice
+	To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple
+	That will undo her: to confirm this too,
+	Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately;
+	As all think, for this business.
+
+First Gentleman	'Tis the cardinal;
+	And merely to revenge him on the emperor
+	For not bestowing on him, at his asking,
+	The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purposed.
+
+Second Gentleman	I think you have hit the mark: but is't not cruel
+	That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal
+	Will have his will, and she must fall.
+
+First Gentleman	'Tis woful.
+	We are too open here to argue this;
+	Let's think in private more.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	An ante-chamber in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter Chamberlain, reading a letter]
+
+Chamberlain	'My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with
+	all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and
+	furnished. They were young and handsome, and of the
+	best breed in the north. When they were ready to
+	set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by
+	commission and main power, took 'em from me; with
+	this reason: His master would be served before a
+	subject, if not before the king; which stopped our
+	mouths, sir.'
+	I fear he will indeed: well, let him have them:
+	He will have all, I think.
+
+	[Enter, to Chamberlain, NORFOLK and SUFFOLK]
+
+NORFOLK	Well met, my lord chamberlain.
+
+Chamberlain	Good day to both your graces.
+
+SUFFOLK	How is the king employ'd?
+
+Chamberlain	I left him private,
+	Full of sad thoughts and troubles.
+
+NORFOLK	What's the cause?
+
+Chamberlain	It seems the marriage with his brother's wife
+	Has crept too near his conscience.
+
+SUFFOLK	No, his conscience
+	Has crept too near another lady.
+
+NORFOLK	'Tis so:
+	This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal:
+	That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune,
+	Turns what he list. The king will know him one day.
+
+SUFFOLK	Pray God he do! he'll never know himself else.
+
+NORFOLK	How holily he works in all his business!
+	And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd the league
+	Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew,
+	He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters
+	Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
+	Fears, and despairs; and all these for his marriage:
+	And out of all these to restore the king,
+	He counsels a divorce; a loss of her
+	That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
+	About his neck, yet never lost her lustre;
+	Of her that loves him with that excellence
+	That angels love good men with; even of her
+	That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
+	Will bless the king: and is not this course pious?
+
+Chamberlain	Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true
+	These news are every where; every tongue speaks 'em,
+	And every true heart weeps for't: all that dare
+	Look into these affairs see this main end,
+	The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open
+	The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon
+	This bold bad man.
+
+SUFFOLK	                  And free us from his slavery.
+
+NORFOLK	We had need pray,
+	And heartily, for our deliverance;
+	Or this imperious man will work us all
+	From princes into pages: all men's honours
+	Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd
+	Into what pitch he please.
+
+SUFFOLK	For me, my lords,
+	I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed:
+	As I am made without him, so I'll stand,
+	If the king please; his curses and his blessings
+	Touch me alike, they're breath I not believe in.
+	I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him
+	To him that made him proud, the pope.
+
+NORFOLK	Let's in;
+	And with some other business put the king
+	From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him:
+	My lord, you'll bear us company?
+
+Chamberlain	Excuse me;
+	The king has sent me otherwhere: besides,
+	You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him:
+	Health to your lordships.
+
+NORFOLK	Thanks, my good lord chamberlain.
+
+	[Exit Chamberlain; and KING HENRY VIII draws the
+	curtain, and sits reading pensively]
+
+SUFFOLK	How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Who's there, ha?
+
+NORFOLK	                  Pray God he be not angry.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves
+	Into my private meditations?
+	Who am I? ha?
+
+NORFOLK	A gracious king that pardons all offences
+	Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty this way
+	Is business of estate; in which we come
+	To know your royal pleasure.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Ye are too bold:
+	Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business:
+	Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha?
+
+	[Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS, with
+	a commission]
+
+	Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey,
+	The quiet of my wounded conscience;
+	Thou art a cure fit for a king.
+
+	[To CARDINAL CAMPEIUS]
+
+		          You're welcome,
+	Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom:
+	Use us and it.
+
+	[To CARDINAL WOLSEY]
+
+	My good lord, have great care
+	I be not found a talker.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Sir, you cannot.
+	I would your grace would give us but an hour
+	Of private conference.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	[To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK]
+		 We are busy; go.
+
+NORFOLK	[Aside to SUFFOLK]
+	This priest has no pride in him?
+
+SUFFOLK	[Aside to NORFOLK]             Not to speak of:
+	I would not be so sick though for his place:
+	But this cannot continue.
+
+NORFOLK	[Aside to SUFFOLK]      If it do,
+	I'll venture one have-at-him.
+
+SUFFOLK	[Aside to NORFOLK]          I another.
+
+	[Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom
+	Above all princes, in committing freely
+	Your scruple to the voice of Christendom:
+	Who can be angry now? what envy reach you?
+	The Spaniard, tied blood and favour to her,
+	Must now confess, if they have any goodness,
+	The trial just and noble. All the clerks,
+	I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms
+	Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judgment,
+	Invited by your noble self, hath sent
+	One general tongue unto us, this good man,
+	This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius;
+	Whom once more I present unto your highness.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome,
+	And thank the holy conclave for their loves:
+	They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for.
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves,
+	You are so noble. To your highness' hand
+	I tender my commission; by whose virtue,
+	The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord
+	Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant
+	In the unpartial judging of this business.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted
+	Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner?
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	I know your majesty has always loved her
+	So dear in heart, not to deny her that
+	A woman of less place might ask by law:
+	Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Ay, and the best she shall have; and my favour
+	To him that does best: God forbid else. Cardinal,
+	Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary:
+	I find him a fit fellow.
+
+	[Exit CARDINAL WOLSEY]
+
+	[Re-enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, with GARDINER]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	[Aside to GARDINER]  Give me your hand much joy and
+	favour to you;
+	You are the king's now.
+
+GARDINER	[Aside to CARDINAL WOLSEY]
+		  But to be commanded
+	For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Come hither, Gardiner.
+
+	[Walks and whispers]
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace
+	In this man's place before him?
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Yes, he was.
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	Was he not held a learned man?
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Yes, surely.
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then
+	Even of yourself, lord cardinal.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	How! of me?
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	They will not stick to say you envied him,
+	And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous,
+	Kept him a foreign man still; which so grieved him,
+	That he ran mad and died.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Heaven's peace be with him!
+	That's Christian care enough: for living murmurers
+	There's places of rebuke. He was a fool;
+	For he would needs be virtuous: that good fellow,
+	If I command him, follows my appointment:
+	I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother,
+	We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Deliver this with modesty to the queen.
+
+	[Exit GARDINER]
+
+	The most convenient place that I can think of
+	For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars;
+	There ye shall meet about this weighty business.
+	My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord,
+	Would it not grieve an able man to leave
+	So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience!
+	O, 'tis a tender place; and I must leave her.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	An ante-chamber of the QUEEN'S apartments.
+
+
+	[Enter ANNE and an Old Lady]
+
+ANNE	Not for that neither: here's the pang that pinches:
+	His highness having lived so long with her, and she
+	So good a lady that no tongue could ever
+	Pronounce dishonour of her; by my life,
+	She never knew harm-doing: O, now, after
+	So many courses of the sun enthroned,
+	Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which
+	To leave a thousand-fold more bitter than
+	'Tis sweet at first to acquire,--after this process,
+	To give her the avaunt! it is a pity
+	Would move a monster.
+
+Old Lady	Hearts of most hard temper
+	Melt and lament for her.
+
+ANNE	O, God's will! much better
+	She ne'er had known pomp: though't be temporal,
+	Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce
+	It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging
+	As soul and body's severing.
+
+Old Lady	Alas, poor lady!
+	She's a stranger now again.
+
+ANNE	So much the more
+	Must pity drop upon her. Verily,
+	I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
+	And range with humble livers in content,
+	Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief,
+	And wear a golden sorrow.
+
+Old Lady	Our content
+	Is our best having.
+
+ANNE	By my troth and maidenhead,
+	I would not be a queen.
+
+Old Lady	Beshrew me, I would,
+	And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you,
+	For all this spice of your hypocrisy:
+	You, that have so fair parts of woman on you,
+	Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet
+	Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;
+	Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts,
+	Saving your mincing, the capacity
+	Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive,
+	If you might please to stretch it.
+
+ANNE	Nay, good troth.
+
+Old Lady	Yes, troth, and troth; you would not be a queen?
+
+ANNE	No, not for all the riches under heaven.
+
+Old Lady:	'Tis strange: a three-pence bow'd would hire me,
+	Old as I am, to queen it: but, I pray you,
+	What think you of a duchess? have you limbs
+	To bear that load of title?
+
+ANNE	No, in truth.
+
+Old Lady	Then you are weakly made: pluck off a little;
+	I would not be a young count in your way,
+	For more than blushing comes to: if your back
+	Cannot vouchsafe this burthen,'tis too weak
+	Ever to get a boy.
+
+ANNE	                  How you do talk!
+	I swear again, I would not be a queen
+	For all the world.
+
+Old Lady	                  In faith, for little England
+	You'ld venture an emballing: I myself
+	Would for Carnarvonshire, although there long'd
+	No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes here?
+
+	[Enter Chamberlain]
+
+Chamberlain	Good morrow, ladies. What were't worth to know
+	The secret of your conference?
+
+ANNE	My good lord,
+	Not your demand; it values not your asking:
+	Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying.
+
+Chamberlain	It was a gentle business, and becoming
+	The action of good women: there is hope
+	All will be well.
+
+ANNE	                  Now, I pray God, amen!
+
+Chamberlain	You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings
+	Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
+	Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's
+	Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty
+	Commends his good opinion of you, and
+	Does purpose honour to you no less flowing
+	Than Marchioness of Pembroke: to which title
+	A thousand pound a year, annual support,
+	Out of his grace he adds.
+
+ANNE	I do not know
+	What kind of my obedience I should tender;
+	More than my all is nothing: nor my prayers
+	Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes
+	More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers and wishes
+	Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship,
+	Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience,
+	As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness;
+	Whose health and royalty I pray for.
+
+Chamberlain	Lady,
+	I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit
+	The king hath of you.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+		I have perused her well;
+	Beauty and honour in her are so mingled
+	That they have caught the king: and who knows yet
+	But from this lady may proceed a gem
+	To lighten all this isle? I'll to the king,
+	And say I spoke with you.
+
+	[Exit Chamberlain]
+
+ANNE	My honour'd lord.
+
+Old Lady	Why, this it is; see, see!
+	I have been begging sixteen years in court,
+	Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could
+	Come pat betwixt too early and too late
+	For any suit of pounds; and you, O fate!
+	A very fresh-fish here--fie, fie, fie upon
+	This compell'd fortune!--have your mouth fill'd up
+	Before you open it.
+
+ANNE	This is strange to me.
+
+Old Lady	How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no.
+	There was a lady once, 'tis an old story,
+	That would not be a queen, that would she not,
+	For all the mud in Egypt: have you heard it?
+
+ANNE	Come, you are pleasant.
+
+Old Lady	With your theme, I could
+	O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke!
+	A thousand pounds a year for pure respect!
+	No other obligation! By my life,
+	That promises moe thousands: honour's train
+	Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time
+	I know your back will bear a duchess: say,
+	Are you not stronger than you were?
+
+ANNE	Good lady,
+	Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy,
+	And leave me out on't. Would I had no being,
+	If this salute my blood a jot: it faints me,
+	To think what follows.
+	The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful
+	In our long absence: pray, do not deliver
+	What here you've heard to her.
+
+Old Lady	What do you think me?
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A hall in Black-Friars.
+
+
+	[Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers,
+	with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in
+	the habit of doctors; after them, CANTERBURY alone;
+	after him, LINCOLN, Ely, Rochester, and Saint
+	Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows
+	a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal,
+	and a cardinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing
+	each a silver cross; then a Gentleman-usher
+	bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant-at-arms
+	bearing a silver mace; then two Gentlemen bearing
+	two great silver pillars; after them, side by side,
+	CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS; two Noblemen
+	with the sword and mace. KING HENRY VIII takes
+	place under the cloth of state; CARDINAL WOLSEY and
+	CARDINAL CAMPEIUS sit under him as judges. QUEEN
+	KATHARINE takes place some distance from KING
+	HENRY VIII. The Bishops place themselves on each
+	side the court, in manner of a consistory; below
+	them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops.
+	The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient
+	order about the stage]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Whilst our commission from Rome is read,
+	Let silence be commanded.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	What's the need?
+	It hath already publicly been read,
+	And on all sides the authority allow'd;
+	You may, then, spare that time.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Be't so. Proceed.
+
+Scribe	Say, Henry King of England, come into the court.
+
+Crier	Henry King of England, &c.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Here.
+
+Scribe	Say, Katharine Queen of England, come into the court.
+
+Crier	Katharine Queen of England, &c.
+
+	[QUEEN KATHARINE makes no answer, rises out of her
+	chair, goes about the court, comes to KING HENRY
+	VIII, and kneels at his feet; then speaks]
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Sir, I desire you do me right and justice;
+	And to bestow your pity on me: for
+	I am a most poor woman, and a stranger,
+	Born out of your dominions; having here
+	No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance
+	Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir,
+	In what have I offended you? what cause
+	Hath my behavior given to your displeasure,
+	That thus you should proceed to put me off,
+	And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness,
+	I have been to you a true and humble wife,
+	At all times to your will conformable;
+	Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,
+	Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry
+	As I saw it inclined: when was the hour
+	I ever contradicted your desire,
+	Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends
+	Have I not strove to love, although I knew
+	He were mine enemy? what friend of mine
+	That had to him derived your anger, did I
+	Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice
+	He was from thence discharged. Sir, call to mind
+	That I have been your wife, in this obedience,
+	Upward of twenty years, and have been blest
+	With many children by you: if, in the course
+	And process of this time, you can report,
+	And prove it too, against mine honour aught,
+	My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty,
+	Against your sacred person, in God's name,
+	Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt
+	Shut door upon me, and so give me up
+	To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you sir,
+	The king, your father, was reputed for
+	A prince most prudent, of an excellent
+	And unmatch'd wit and judgment: Ferdinand,
+	My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one
+	The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many
+	A year before: it is not to be question'd
+	That they had gather'd a wise council to them
+	Of every realm, that did debate this business,
+	Who deem'd our marriage lawful: wherefore I humbly
+	Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may
+	Be by my friends in Spain advised; whose counsel
+	I will implore: if not, i' the name of God,
+	Your pleasure be fulfill'd!
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	You have here, lady,
+	And of your choice, these reverend fathers; men
+	Of singular integrity and learning,
+	Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled
+	To plead your cause: it shall be therefore bootless
+	That longer you desire the court; as well
+	For your own quiet, as to rectify
+	What is unsettled in the king.
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	His grace
+	Hath spoken well and justly: therefore, madam,
+	It's fit this royal session do proceed;
+	And that, without delay, their arguments
+	Be now produced and heard.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Lord cardinal,
+	To you I speak.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	                  Your pleasure, madam?
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Sir,
+	I am about to weep; but, thinking that
+	We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain
+	The daughter of a king, my drops of tears
+	I'll turn to sparks of fire.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Be patient yet.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	I will, when you are humble; nay, before,
+	Or God will punish me. I do believe,
+	Induced by potent circumstances, that
+	You are mine enemy, and make my challenge
+	You shall not be my judge: for it is you
+	Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me;
+	Which God's dew quench! Therefore I say again,
+	I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul
+	Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more,
+	I hold my most malicious foe, and think not
+	At all a friend to truth.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	I do profess
+	You speak not like yourself; who ever yet
+	Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects
+	Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom
+	O'ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do me wrong:
+	I have no spleen against you; nor injustice
+	For you or any: how far I have proceeded,
+	Or how far further shall, is warranted
+	By a commission from the consistory,
+	Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me
+	That I have blown this coal: I do deny it:
+	The king is present: if it be known to him
+	That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound,
+	And worthily, my falsehood! yea, as much
+	As you have done my truth. If he know
+	That I am free of your report, he knows
+	I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him
+	It lies to cure me: and the cure is, to
+	Remove these thoughts from you: the which before
+	His highness shall speak in, I do beseech
+	You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking
+	And to say so no more.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	My lord, my lord,
+	I am a simple woman, much too weak
+	To oppose your cunning. You're meek and
+	humble-mouth'd;
+	You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,
+	With meekness and humility; but your heart
+	Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride.
+	You have, by fortune and his highness' favours,
+	Gone slightly o'er low steps and now are mounted
+	Where powers are your retainers, and your words,
+	Domestics to you, serve your will as't please
+	Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you,
+	You tender more your person's honour than
+	Your high profession spiritual: that again
+	I do refuse you for my judge; and here,
+	Before you all, appeal unto the pope,
+	To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness,
+	And to be judged by him.
+
+	[She curtsies to KING HENRY VIII, and offers to depart]
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	The queen is obstinate,
+	Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and
+	Disdainful to be tried by't: 'tis not well.
+	She's going away.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Call her again.
+
+Crier	Katharine Queen of England, come into the court.
+
+GRIFFITH	Madam, you are call'd back.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	What need you note it? pray you, keep your way:
+	When you are call'd, return. Now, the Lord help,
+	They vex me past my patience! Pray you, pass on:
+	I will not tarry; no, nor ever more
+	Upon this business my appearance make
+	In any of their courts.
+
+	[Exeunt QUEEN KATHARINE and her Attendants]
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Go thy ways, Kate:
+	That man i' the world who shall report he has
+	A better wife, let him in nought be trusted,
+	For speaking false in that: thou art, alone,
+	If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
+	Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government,
+	Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
+	Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out,
+	The queen of earthly queens: she's noble born;
+	And, like her true nobility, she has
+	Carried herself towards me.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Most gracious sir,
+	In humblest manner I require your highness,
+	That it shall please you to declare, in hearing
+	Of all these ears,--for where I am robb'd and bound,
+	There must I be unloosed, although not there
+	At once and fully satisfied,--whether ever I
+	Did broach this business to your highness; or
+	Laid any scruple in your way, which might
+	Induce you to the question on't? or ever
+	Have to you, but with thanks to God for such
+	A royal lady, spake one the least word that might
+	Be to the prejudice of her present state,
+	Or touch of her good person?
+
+KING HENRY VIII	My lord cardinal,
+	I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour,
+	I free you from't. You are not to be taught
+	That you have many enemies, that know not
+	Why they are so, but, like to village-curs,
+	Bark when their fellows do: by some of these
+	The queen is put in anger. You're excused:
+	But will you be more justified? You ever
+	Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desired
+	It to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd, oft,
+	The passages made toward it: on my honour,
+	I speak my good lord cardinal to this point,
+	And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me to't,
+	I will be bold with time and your attention:
+	Then mark the inducement. Thus it came; give heed to't:
+	My conscience first received a tenderness,
+	Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd
+	By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador;
+	Who had been hither sent on the debating
+	A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and
+	Our daughter Mary: i' the progress of this business,
+	Ere a determinate resolution, he,
+	I mean the bishop, did require a respite;
+	Wherein he might the king his lord advertise
+	Whether our daughter were legitimate,
+	Respecting this our marriage with the dowager,
+	Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook
+	The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me,
+	Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble
+	The region of my breast; which forced such way,
+	That many mazed considerings did throng
+	And press'd in with this caution. First, methought
+	I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had
+	Commanded nature, that my lady's womb,
+	If it conceived a male child by me, should
+	Do no more offices of life to't than
+	The grave does to the dead; for her male issue
+	Or died where they were made, or shortly after
+	This world had air'd them: hence I took a thought,
+	This was a judgment on me; that my kingdom,
+	Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should not
+	Be gladded in't by me: then follows, that
+	I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in
+	By this my issue's fail; and that gave to me
+	Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in
+	The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer
+	Toward this remedy, whereupon we are
+	Now present here together: that's to say,
+	I meant to rectify my conscience,--which
+	I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,--
+	By all the reverend fathers of the land
+	And doctors learn'd: first I began in private
+	With you, my Lord of Lincoln; you remember
+	How under my oppression I did reek,
+	When I first moved you.
+
+LINCOLN	Very well, my liege.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	I have spoke long: be pleased yourself to say
+	How far you satisfied me.
+
+LINCOLN	So please your highness,
+	The question did at first so stagger me,
+	Bearing a state of mighty moment in't
+	And consequence of dread, that I committed
+	The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt;
+	And did entreat your highness to this course
+	Which you are running here.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	I then moved you,
+	My Lord of Canterbury; and got your leave
+	To make this present summons: unsolicited
+	I left no reverend person in this court;
+	But by particular consent proceeded
+	Under your hands and seals: therefore, go on:
+	For no dislike i' the world against the person
+	Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points
+	Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward:
+	Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life
+	And kingly dignity, we are contented
+	To wear our mortal state to come with her,
+	Katharine our queen, before the primest creature
+	That's paragon'd o' the world.
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	So please your highness,
+	The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness
+	That we adjourn this court till further day:
+	Meanwhile must be an earnest motion
+	Made to the queen, to call back her appeal
+	She intends unto his holiness.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	[Aside]	I may perceive
+	These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor
+	This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.
+	My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer,
+	Prithee, return: with thy approach, I know,
+	My comfort comes along. Break up the court:
+	I say, set on.
+
+	[Exeunt in manner as they entered]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. QUEEN KATHARINE's apartments.
+
+
+	[Enter QUEEN KATHARINE and her Women, as at work]
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles;
+	Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst: leave working.
+	[SONG]
+
+	Orpheus with his lute made trees,
+	And the mountain tops that freeze,
+	Bow themselves when he did sing:
+	To his music plants and flowers
+	Ever sprung; as sun and showers
+	There had made a lasting spring.
+
+	Every thing that heard him play,
+	Even the billows of the sea,
+	Hung their heads, and then lay by.
+	In sweet music is such art,
+	Killing care and grief of heart
+	Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
+
+	[Enter a Gentleman]
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	How now!
+
+Gentleman	An't please your grace, the two great cardinals
+	Wait in the presence.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Would they speak with me?
+
+Gentleman	They will'd me say so, madam.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Pray their graces
+	To come near.
+
+	[Exit Gentleman]
+
+	What can be their business
+	With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from favour?
+	I do not like their coming. Now I think on't,
+	They should be good men; their affairs as righteous:
+	But all hoods make not monks.
+
+	[Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Peace to your highness!
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Your graces find me here part of a housewife,
+	I would be all, against the worst may happen.
+	What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords?
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	May it please you noble madam, to withdraw
+	Into your private chamber, we shall give you
+	The full cause of our coming.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Speak it here:
+	There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience,
+	Deserves a corner: would all other women
+	Could speak this with as free a soul as I do!
+	My lords, I care not, so much I am happy
+	Above a number, if my actions
+	Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em,
+	Envy and base opinion set against 'em,
+	I know my life so even. If your business
+	Seek me out, and that way I am wife in,
+	Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina
+	serenissima,--
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	O, good my lord, no Latin;
+	I am not such a truant since my coming,
+	As not to know the language I have lived in:
+	A strange tongue makes my cause more strange,
+	suspicious;
+	Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank you,
+	If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake;
+	Believe me, she has had much wrong: lord cardinal,
+	The willing'st sin I ever yet committed
+	May be absolved in English.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Noble lady,
+	I am sorry my integrity should breed,
+	And service to his majesty and you,
+	So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant.
+	We come not by the way of accusation,
+	To taint that honour every good tongue blesses,
+	Nor to betray you any way to sorrow,
+	You have too much, good lady; but to know
+	How you stand minded in the weighty difference
+	Between the king and you; and to deliver,
+	Like free and honest men, our just opinions
+	And comforts to your cause.
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	Most honour'd madam,
+	My Lord of York, out of his noble nature,
+	Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace,
+	Forgetting, like a good man your late censure
+	Both of his truth and him, which was too far,
+	Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace,
+	His service and his counsel.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	[Aside]	To betray me.--
+	My lords, I thank you both for your good wills;
+	Ye speak like honest men; pray God, ye prove so!
+	But how to make ye suddenly an answer,
+	In such a point of weight, so near mine honour,--
+	More near my life, I fear,--with my weak wit,
+	And to such men of gravity and learning,
+	In truth, I know not. I was set at work
+	Among my maids: full little, God knows, looking
+	Either for such men or such business.
+	For her sake that I have been,--for I feel
+	The last fit of my greatness,--good your graces,
+	Let me have time and counsel for my cause:
+	Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless!
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Madam, you wrong the king's love with these fears:
+	Your hopes and friends are infinite.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	In England
+	But little for my profit: can you think, lords,
+	That any Englishman dare give me counsel?
+	Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' pleasure,
+	Though he be grown so desperate to be honest,
+	And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends,
+	They that must weigh out my afflictions,
+	They that my trust must grow to, live not here:
+	They are, as all my other comforts, far hence
+	In mine own country, lords.
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	I would your grace
+	Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	How, sir?
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	Put your main cause into the king's protection;
+	He's loving and most gracious: 'twill be much
+	Both for your honour better and your cause;
+	For if the trial of the law o'ertake ye,
+	You'll part away disgraced.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	He tells you rightly.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Ye tell me what ye wish for both,--my ruin:
+	Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye!
+	Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge
+	That no king can corrupt.
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	Your rage mistakes us.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	The more shame for ye: holy men I thought ye,
+	Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues;
+	But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye:
+	Mend 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort?
+	The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady,
+	A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd?
+	I will not wish ye half my miseries;
+	I have more charity: but say, I warn'd ye;
+	Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once
+	The burthen of my sorrows fall upon ye.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Madam, this is a mere distraction;
+	You turn the good we offer into envy.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Ye turn me into nothing: woe upon ye
+	And all such false professors! would you have me--
+	If you have any justice, any pity;
+	If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits--
+	Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me?
+	Alas, has banish'd me his bed already,
+	His love, too long ago! I am old, my lords,
+	And all the fellowship I hold now with him
+	Is only my obedience. What can happen
+	To me above this wretchedness? all your studies
+	Make me a curse like this.
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	Your fears are worse.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Have I lived thus long--let me speak myself,
+	Since virtue finds no friends--a wife, a true one?
+	A woman, I dare say without vain-glory,
+	Never yet branded with suspicion?
+	Have I with all my full affections
+	Still met the king? loved him next heaven?
+	obey'd him?
+	Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him?
+	Almost forgot my prayers to content him?
+	And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords.
+	Bring me a constant woman to her husband,
+	One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure;
+	And to that woman, when she has done most,
+	Yet will I add an honour, a great patience.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Madam, you wander from the good we aim at.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty,
+	To give up willingly that noble title
+	Your master wed me to: nothing but death
+	Shall e'er divorce my dignities.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Pray, hear me.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Would I had never trod this English earth,
+	Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!
+	Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts.
+	What will become of me now, wretched lady!
+	I am the most unhappy woman living.
+	Alas, poor wenches, where are now your fortunes!
+	Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity,
+	No friend, no hope; no kindred weep for me;
+	Almost no grave allow'd me: like the lily,
+	That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd,
+	I'll hang my head and perish.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	If your grace
+	Could but be brought to know our ends are honest,
+	You'ld feel more comfort: why should we, good lady,
+	Upon what cause, wrong you? alas, our places,
+	The way of our profession is against it:
+	We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow 'em.
+	For goodness' sake, consider what you do;
+	How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly
+	Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage.
+	The hearts of princes kiss obedience,
+	So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits
+	They swell, and grow as terrible as storms.
+	I know you have a gentle, noble temper,
+	A soul as even as a calm: pray, think us
+	Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants.
+
+CARDINAL CAMPEIUS	Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtues
+	With these weak women's fears: a noble spirit,
+	As yours was put into you, ever casts
+	Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you;
+	Beware you lose it not: for us, if you please
+	To trust us in your business, we are ready
+	To use our utmost studies in your service.
+
+QUEEN KATHARINE	Do what ye will, my lords: and, pray, forgive me,
+	If I have used myself unmannerly;
+	You know I am a woman, lacking wit
+	To make a seemly answer to such persons.
+	Pray, do my service to his majesty:
+	He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers
+	While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers,
+	Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs,
+	That little thought, when she set footing here,
+	She should have bought her dignities so dear.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Ante-chamber to KING HENRY VIII's apartment.
+
+
+	[Enter NORFOLK, SUFFOLK, SURREY, and Chamberlain]
+
+NORFOLK	If you will now unite in your complaints,
+	And force them with a constancy, the cardinal
+	Cannot stand under them: if you omit
+	The offer of this time, I cannot promise
+	But that you shall sustain moe new disgraces,
+	With these you bear already.
+
+SURREY	I am joyful
+	To meet the least occasion that may give me
+	Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke,
+	To be revenged on him.
+
+SUFFOLK	Which of the peers
+	Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least
+	Strangely neglected? when did he regard
+	The stamp of nobleness in any person
+	Out of himself?
+
+Chamberlain	                  My lords, you speak your pleasures:
+	What he deserves of you and me I know;
+	What we can do to him, though now the time
+	Gives way to us, I much fear. If you cannot
+	Bar his access to the king, never attempt
+	Any thing on him; for he hath a witchcraft
+	Over the king in's tongue.
+
+NORFOLK	O, fear him not;
+	His spell in that is out: the king hath found
+	Matter against him that for ever mars
+	The honey of his language. No, he's settled,
+	Not to come off, in his displeasure.
+
+SURREY	Sir,
+	I should be glad to hear such news as this
+	Once every hour.
+
+NORFOLK	                  Believe it, this is true:
+	In the divorce his contrary proceedings
+	Are all unfolded wherein he appears
+	As I would wish mine enemy.
+
+SURREY	How came
+	His practises to light?
+
+SUFFOLK	Most strangely.
+
+SURREY	O, how, how?
+
+SUFFOLK	The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried,
+	And came to the eye o' the king: wherein was read,
+	How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness
+	To stay the judgment o' the divorce; for if
+	It did take place, 'I do,' quoth he, 'perceive
+	My king is tangled in affection to
+	A creature of the queen's, Lady Anne Bullen.'
+
+SURREY	Has the king this?
+
+SUFFOLK	                  Believe it.
+
+SURREY	Will this work?
+
+Chamberlain	The king in this perceives him, how he coasts
+	And hedges his own way. But in this point
+	All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic
+	After his patient's death: the king already
+	Hath married the fair lady.
+
+SURREY	Would he had!
+
+SUFFOLK	May you be happy in your wish, my lord
+	For, I profess, you have it.
+
+SURREY	Now, all my joy
+	Trace the conjunction!
+
+SUFFOLK	My amen to't!
+
+NORFOLK	All men's!
+
+SUFFOLK	There's order given for her coronation:
+	Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left
+	To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords,
+	She is a gallant creature, and complete
+	In mind and feature: I persuade me, from her
+	Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall
+	In it be memorised.
+
+SURREY	But, will the king
+	Digest this letter of the cardinal's?
+	The Lord forbid!
+
+NORFOLK	                  Marry, amen!
+
+SUFFOLK	No, no;
+	There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose
+	Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius
+	Is stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave;
+	Has left the cause o' the king unhandled; and
+	Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal,
+	To second all his plot. I do assure you
+	The king cried Ha! at this.
+
+Chamberlain	Now, God incense him,
+	And let him cry Ha! louder!
+
+NORFOLK	But, my lord,
+	When returns Cranmer?
+
+SUFFOLK	He is return'd in his opinions; which
+	Have satisfied the king for his divorce,
+	Together with all famous colleges
+	Almost in Christendom: shortly, I believe,
+	His second marriage shall be publish'd, and
+	Her coronation. Katharine no more
+	Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager
+	And widow to Prince Arthur.
+
+NORFOLK	This same Cranmer's
+	A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain
+	In the king's business.
+
+SUFFOLK	He has; and we shall see him
+	For it an archbishop.
+
+NORFOLK	So I hear.
+
+SUFFOLK	'Tis so.
+	The cardinal!
+
+	[Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CROMWELL]
+
+NORFOLK	                  Observe, observe, he's moody.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	The packet, Cromwell.
+	Gave't you the king?
+
+CROMWELL	To his own hand, in's bedchamber.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Look'd he o' the inside of the paper?
+
+CROMWELL	Presently
+	He did unseal them: and the first he view'd,
+	He did it with a serious mind; a heed
+	Was in his countenance. You he bade
+	Attend him here this morning.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Is he ready
+	To come abroad?
+
+CROMWELL	                  I think, by this he is.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Leave me awhile.
+
+	[Exit CROMWELL]
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon,
+	The French king's sister: he shall marry her.
+	Anne Bullen! No; I'll no Anne Bullens for him:
+	There's more in't than fair visage. Bullen!
+	No, we'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish
+	To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke!
+
+NORFOLK	He's discontented.
+
+SUFFOLK	                  May be, he hears the king
+	Does whet his anger to him.
+
+SURREY	Sharp enough,
+	Lord, for thy justice!
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	[Aside]  The late queen's gentlewoman,
+	a knight's daughter,
+	To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen!
+	This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it;
+	Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous
+	And well deserving? yet I know her for
+	A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to
+	Our cause, that she should lie i' the bosom of
+	Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung up
+	An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one
+	Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king,
+	And is his oracle.
+
+NORFOLK	                  He is vex'd at something.
+
+SURREY	I would 'twere something that would fret the string,
+	The master-cord on's heart!
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY VIII, reading of a schedule, and LOVELL]
+
+SUFFOLK	The king, the king!
+
+KING HENRY VIII	What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
+	To his own portion! and what expense by the hour
+	Seems to flow from him! How, i' the name of thrift,
+	Does he rake this together! Now, my lords,
+	Saw you the cardinal?
+
+NORFOLK	My lord, we have
+	Stood here observing him: some strange commotion
+	Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts;
+	Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,
+	Then lays his finger on his temple, straight
+	Springs out into fast gait; then stops again,
+	Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts
+	His eye against the moon: in most strange postures
+	We have seen him set himself.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	It may well be;
+	There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning
+	Papers of state he sent me to peruse,
+	As I required: and wot you what I found
+	There,--on my conscience, put unwittingly?
+	Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing;
+	The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,
+	Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which
+	I find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks
+	Possession of a subject.
+
+NORFOLK	It's heaven's will:
+	Some spirit put this paper in the packet,
+	To bless your eye withal.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	If we did think
+	His contemplation were above the earth,
+	And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still
+	Dwell in his musings: but I am afraid
+	His thinkings are below the moon, not worth
+	His serious considering.
+
+	[King HENRY VIII takes his seat; whispers LOVELL,
+	who goes to CARDINAL WOLSEY]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Heaven forgive me!
+	Ever God bless your highness!
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Good my lord,
+	You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory
+	Of your best graces in your mind; the which
+	You were now running o'er: you have scarce time
+	To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span
+	To keep your earthly audit: sure, in that
+	I deem you an ill husband, and am glad
+	To have you therein my companion.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Sir,
+	For holy offices I have a time; a time
+	To think upon the part of business which
+	I bear i' the state; and nature does require
+	Her times of preservation, which perforce
+	I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
+	Must give my tendence to.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	You have said well.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	And ever may your highness yoke together,
+	As I will lend you cause, my doing well
+	With my well saying!
+
+KING HENRY VIII	'Tis well said again;
+	And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well:
+	And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you:
+	His said he did; and with his deed did crown
+	His word upon you. Since I had my office,
+	I have kept you next my heart; have not alone
+	Employ'd you where high profits might come home,
+	But pared my present havings, to bestow
+	My bounties upon you.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	[Aside]             What should this mean?
+
+SURREY	[Aside]  The Lord increase this business!
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Have I not made you,
+	The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me,
+	If what I now pronounce you have found true:
+	And, if you may confess it, say withal,
+	If you are bound to us or no. What say you?
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	My sovereign, I confess your royal graces,
+	Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could
+	My studied purposes requite; which went
+	Beyond all man's endeavours: my endeavours
+	Have ever come too short of my desires,
+	Yet filed with my abilities: mine own ends
+	Have been mine so that evermore they pointed
+	To the good of your most sacred person and
+	The profit of the state. For your great graces
+	Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I
+	Can nothing render but allegiant thanks,
+	My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty,
+	Which ever has and ever shall be growing,
+	Till death, that winter, kill it.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Fairly answer'd;
+	A loyal and obedient subject is
+	Therein illustrated: the honour of it
+	Does pay the act of it; as, i' the contrary,
+	The foulness is the punishment. I presume
+	That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you,
+	My heart dropp'd love, my power rain'd honour, more
+	On you than any; so your hand and heart,
+	Your brain, and every function of your power,
+	Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
+	As 'twere in love's particular, be more
+	To me, your friend, than any.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	I do profess
+	That for your highness' good I ever labour'd
+	More than mine own; that am, have, and will be--
+	Though all the world should crack their duty to you,
+	And throw it from their soul; though perils did
+	Abound, as thick as thought could make 'em, and
+	Appear in forms more horrid,--yet my duty,
+	As doth a rock against the chiding flood,
+	Should the approach of this wild river break,
+	And stand unshaken yours.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	'Tis nobly spoken:
+	Take notice, lords, he has a loyal breast,
+	For you have seen him open't. Read o'er this;
+
+	[Giving him papers]
+
+	And after, this: and then to breakfast with
+	What appetite you have.
+
+	[Exit KING HENRY VIII, frowning upon CARDINAL WOLSEY:
+	the Nobles throng after him, smiling and whispering]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	What should this mean?
+	What sudden anger's this? how have I reap'd it?
+	He parted frowning from me, as if ruin
+	Leap'd from his eyes: so looks the chafed lion
+	Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him;
+	Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper;
+	I fear, the story of his anger. 'Tis so;
+	This paper has undone me: 'tis the account
+	Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together
+	For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom,
+	And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence!
+	Fit for a fool to fall by: what cross devil
+	Made me put this main secret in the packet
+	I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this?
+	No new device to beat this from his brains?
+	I know 'twill stir him strongly; yet I know
+	A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune
+	Will bring me off again. What's this? 'To the Pope!'
+	The letter, as I live, with all the business
+	I writ to's holiness. Nay then, farewell!
+	I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness;
+	And, from that full meridian of my glory,
+	I haste now to my setting: I shall fall
+	Like a bright exhalation m the evening,
+	And no man see me more.
+
+	[Re-enter to CARDINAL WOLSEY, NORFOLK and SUFFOLK, SURREY,
+	and the Chamberlain]
+
+NORFOLK	Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal: who commands you
+	To render up the great seal presently
+	Into our hands; and to confine yourself
+	To Asher House, my Lord of Winchester's,
+	Till you hear further from his highness.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Stay:
+	Where's your commission, lords? words cannot carry
+	Authority so weighty.
+
+SUFFOLK	Who dare cross 'em,
+	Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly?
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Till I find more than will or words to do it,
+	I mean your malice, know, officious lords,
+	I dare and must deny it. Now I feel
+	Of what coarse metal ye are moulded, envy:
+	How eagerly ye follow my disgraces,
+	As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wanton
+	Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin!
+	Follow your envious courses, men of malice;
+	You have Christian warrant for 'em, and, no doubt,
+	In time will find their fit rewards. That seal,
+	You ask with such a violence, the king,
+	Mine and your master, with his own hand gave me;
+	Bade me enjoy it, with the place and honours,
+	During my life; and, to confirm his goodness,
+	Tied it by letters-patents: now, who'll take it?
+
+SURREY	The king, that gave it.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	It must be himself, then.
+
+SURREY	Thou art a proud traitor, priest.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Proud lord, thou liest:
+	Within these forty hours Surrey durst better
+	Have burnt that tongue than said so.
+
+SURREY	Thy ambition,
+	Thou scarlet sin, robb'd this bewailing land
+	Of noble Buckingham, my father-in-law:
+	The heads of all thy brother cardinals,
+	With thee and all thy best parts bound together,
+	Weigh'd not a hair of his. Plague of your policy!
+	You sent me deputy for Ireland;
+	Far from his succor, from the king, from all
+	That might have mercy on the fault thou gavest him;
+	Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,
+	Absolved him with an axe.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	This, and all else
+	This talking lord can lay upon my credit,
+	I answer is most false. The duke by law
+	Found his deserts: how innocent I was
+	From any private malice in his end,
+	His noble jury and foul cause can witness.
+	If I loved many words, lord, I should tell you
+	You have as little honesty as honour,
+	That in the way of loyalty and truth
+	Toward the king, my ever royal master,
+	Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be,
+	And all that love his follies.
+
+SURREY	By my soul,
+	Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou
+	shouldst feel
+	My sword i' the life-blood of thee else. My lords,
+	Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?
+	And from this fellow? if we live thus tamely,
+	To be thus jaded by a piece of scarlet,
+	Farewell nobility; let his grace go forward,
+	And dare us with his cap like larks.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	All goodness
+	Is poison to thy stomach.
+
+SURREY	Yes, that goodness
+	Of gleaning all the land's wealth into one,
+	Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion;
+	The goodness of your intercepted packets
+	You writ to the pope against the king: your goodness,
+	Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious.
+	My Lord of Norfolk, as you are truly noble,
+	As you respect the common good, the state
+	Of our despised nobility, our issues,
+	Who, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen,
+	Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles
+	Collected from his life. I'll startle you
+	Worse than the scaring bell, when the brown wench
+	Lay kissing in your arms, lord cardinal.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	How much, methinks, I could despise this man,
+	But that I am bound in charity against it!
+
+NORFOLK	Those articles, my lord, are in the king's hand:
+	But, thus much, they are foul ones.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	So much fairer
+	And spotless shall mine innocence arise,
+	When the king knows my truth.
+
+SURREY	This cannot save you:
+	I thank my memory, I yet remember
+	Some of these articles; and out they shall.
+	Now, if you can blush and cry 'guilty,' cardinal,
+	You'll show a little honesty.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Speak on, sir;
+	I dare your worst objections: if I blush,
+	It is to see a nobleman want manners.
+
+SURREY	I had rather want those than my head. Have at you!
+	First, that, without the king's assent or knowledge,
+	You wrought to be a legate; by which power
+	You maim'd the jurisdiction of all bishops.
+
+NORFOLK	Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or else
+	To foreign princes, 'Ego et Rex meus'
+	Was still inscribed; in which you brought the king
+	To be your servant.
+
+SUFFOLK	Then that, without the knowledge
+	Either of king or council, when you went
+	Ambassador to the emperor, you made bold
+	To carry into Flanders the great seal.
+
+SURREY	Item, you sent a large commission
+	To Gregory de Cassado, to conclude,
+	Without the king's will or the state's allowance,
+	A league between his highness and Ferrara.
+
+SUFFOLK	That, out of mere ambition, you have caused
+	Your holy hat to be stamp'd on the king's coin.
+
+SURREY	Then that you have sent innumerable substance--
+	By what means got, I leave to your own conscience--
+	To furnish Rome, and to prepare the ways
+	You have for dignities; to the mere undoing
+	Of all the kingdom. Many more there are;
+	Which, since they are of you, and odious,
+	I will not taint my mouth with.
+
+Chamberlain	O my lord,
+	Press not a falling man too far! 'tis virtue:
+	His faults lie open to the laws; let them,
+	Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him
+	So little of his great self.
+
+SURREY	I forgive him.
+
+SUFFOLK	Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is,
+	Because all those things you have done of late,
+	By your power legatine, within this kingdom,
+	Fall into the compass of a praemunire,
+	That therefore such a writ be sued against you;
+	To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
+	Chattels, and whatsoever, and to be
+	Out of the king's protection. This is my charge.
+
+NORFOLK	And so we'll leave you to your meditations
+	How to live better. For your stubborn answer
+	About the giving back the great seal to us,
+	The king shall know it, and, no doubt, shall thank you.
+	So fare you well, my little good lord cardinal.
+
+	[Exeunt all but CARDINAL WOLSEY]
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	So farewell to the little good you bear me.
+	Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness!
+	This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth
+	The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms,
+	And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;
+	The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
+	And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
+	His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,
+	And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
+	Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
+	This many summers in a sea of glory,
+	But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride
+	At length broke under me and now has left me,
+	Weary and old with service, to the mercy
+	Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
+	Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye:
+	I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched
+	Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!
+	There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
+	That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
+	More pangs and fears than wars or women have:
+	And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
+	Never to hope again.
+
+	[Enter CROMWELL, and stands amazed]
+
+		Why, how now, Cromwell!
+
+CROMWELL	I have no power to speak, sir.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	What, amazed
+	At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder
+	A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep,
+	I am fall'n indeed.
+
+CROMWELL	How does your grace?
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Why, well;
+	Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
+	I know myself now; and I feel within me
+	A peace above all earthly dignities,
+	A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me,
+	I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders,
+	These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken
+	A load would sink a navy, too much honour:
+	O, 'tis a burthen, Cromwell, 'tis a burthen
+	Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven!
+
+CROMWELL	I am glad your grace has made that right use of it.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	I hope I have: I am able now, methinks,
+	Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,
+	To endure more miseries and greater far
+	Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
+	What news abroad?
+
+CROMWELL	                  The heaviest and the worst
+	Is your displeasure with the king.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	God bless him!
+
+CROMWELL	The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen
+	Lord chancellor in your place.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	That's somewhat sudden:
+	But he's a learned man. May he continue
+	Long in his highness' favour, and do justice
+	For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones,
+	When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings,
+	May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on em! What more?
+
+CROMWELL	That Cranmer is return'd with welcome,
+	Install'd lord archbishop of Canterbury.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	That's news indeed.
+
+CROMWELL	Last, that the Lady Anne,
+	Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,
+	This day was view'd in open as his queen,
+	Going to chapel; and the voice is now
+	Only about her coronation.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	There was the weight that pull'd me down. O Cromwell,
+	The king has gone beyond me: all my glories
+	In that one woman I have lost for ever:
+	No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours,
+	Or gild again the noble troops that waited
+	Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell;
+	I am a poor fall'n man, unworthy now
+	To be thy lord and master: seek the king;
+	That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him
+	What and how true thou art: he will advance thee;
+	Some little memory of me will stir him--
+	I know his noble nature--not to let
+	Thy hopeful service perish too: good Cromwell,
+	Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
+	For thine own future safety.
+
+CROMWELL	O my lord,
+	Must I, then, leave you? must I needs forego
+	So good, so noble and so true a master?
+	Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
+	With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
+	The king shall have my service: but my prayers
+	For ever and for ever shall be yours.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
+	In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me,
+	Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
+	Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell;
+	And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
+	And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
+	Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee,
+	Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
+	And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,
+	Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in;
+	A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
+	Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me.
+	Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition:
+	By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then,
+	The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?
+	Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee;
+	Corruption wins not more than honesty.
+	Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
+	To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not:
+	Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,
+	Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st,
+	O Cromwell,
+	Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! Serve the king;
+	And,--prithee, lead me in:
+	There take an inventory of all I have,
+	To the last penny; 'tis the king's: my robe,
+	And my integrity to heaven, is all
+	I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell!
+	Had I but served my God with half the zeal
+	I served my king, he would not in mine age
+	Have left me naked to mine enemies.
+
+CROMWELL	Good sir, have patience.
+
+CARDINAL WOLSEY	So I have. Farewell
+	The hopes of court! my hopes in heaven do dwell.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A street in Westminster.
+
+
+	[Enter two Gentlemen, meeting one another]
+
+First Gentleman	You're well met once again.
+
+Second Gentleman	So are you.
+
+First Gentleman	You come to take your stand here, and behold
+	The Lady Anne pass from her coronation?
+
+Second Gentleman	'Tis all my business. At our last encounter,
+	The Duke of Buckingham came from his trial.
+
+First Gentleman	'Tis very true: but that time offer'd sorrow;
+	This, general joy.
+
+Second Gentleman	'Tis well: the citizens,
+	I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds--
+	As, let 'em have their rights, they are ever forward--
+	In celebration of this day with shows,
+	Pageants and sights of honour.
+
+First Gentleman	Never greater,
+	Nor, I'll assure you, better taken, sir.
+
+Second Gentleman	May I be bold to ask at what that contains,
+	That paper in your hand?
+
+First Gentleman	Yes; 'tis the list
+	Of those that claim their offices this day
+	By custom of the coronation.
+	The Duke of Suffolk is the first, and claims
+	To be high-steward; next, the Duke of Norfolk,
+	He to be earl marshal: you may read the rest.
+
+Second Gentleman	I thank you, sir: had I not known those customs,
+	I should have been beholding to your paper.
+	But, I beseech you, what's become of Katharine,
+	The princess dowager? how goes her business?
+
+First Gentleman	That I can tell you too. The Archbishop
+	Of Canterbury, accompanied with other
+	Learned and reverend fathers of his order,
+	Held a late court at Dunstable, six miles off
+	From Ampthill where the princess lay; to which
+	She was often cited by them, but appear'd not:
+	And, to be short, for not appearance and
+	The king's late scruple, by the main assent
+	Of all these learned men she was divorced,
+	And the late marriage made of none effect
+	Since which she was removed to Kimbolton,
+	Where she remains now sick.
+
+Second Gentleman	Alas, good lady!
+
+	[Trumpets]
+
+	The trumpets sound: stand close, the queen is coming.
+
+	[Hautboys]
+
+	[THE ORDER OF THE CORONATION]
+
+	1. A lively flourish of Trumpets.
+
+	2. Then, two Judges.
+
+	3. Lord Chancellor, with the purse and mace
+	before him.
+
+	4. Choristers, singing.
+
+	[Music]
+
+	5. Mayor of London, bearing the mace. Then
+	Garter, in his coat of arms, and on his
+	head a gilt copper crown.
+
+	6. Marquess Dorset, bearing a sceptre of gold,
+	on his head a demi-coronal of gold. With
+	him, SURREY, bearing the rod of silver with
+	the dove, crowned with an earl's coronet.
+	Collars of SS.
+
+	7. SUFFOLK, in his robe of estate, his coronet
+	on his head, bearing a long white wand, as
+	high-steward. With him, NORFOLK, with the
+	rod of marshalship, a coronet on his head.
+	Collars of SS.
+
+	8. A canopy borne by four of the Cinque-ports;
+	under it, QUEEN ANNE in her robe; in her hair
+	richly adorned with pearl, crowned. On each
+	side her, the Bishops of London and
+	Winchester.
+
+	9. The old Duchess of Norfolk, in a coronal of
+	gold, wrought with flowers, bearing QUEEN
+	ANNE's train.
+
+	10. Certain Ladies or Countesses, with plain
+	circlets of gold without flowers.
+
+	[They pass over the stage in order and state]
+
+Second Gentleman	A royal train, believe me. These I know:
+	Who's that that bears the sceptre?
+
+First Gentleman	Marquess Dorset:
+	And that the Earl of Surrey, with the rod.
+
+Second Gentleman	A bold brave gentleman. That should be
+	The Duke of Suffolk?
+
+First Gentleman	'Tis the same: high-steward.
+
+Second Gentleman	And that my Lord of Norfolk?
+
+First Gentleman	Yes;
+
+Second Gentleman	Heaven bless thee!
+
+	[Looking on QUEEN ANNE]
+
+	Thou hast the sweetest face I ever look'd on.
+	Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel;
+	Our king has all the Indies in his arms,
+	And more and richer, when he strains that lady:
+	I cannot blame his conscience.
+
+First Gentleman	They that bear
+	The cloth of honour over her, are four barons
+	Of the Cinque-ports.
+
+Second Gentleman	Those men are happy; and so are all are near her.
+	I take it, she that carries up the train
+	Is that old noble lady, Duchess of Norfolk.
+
+First Gentleman	It is; and all the rest are countesses.
+
+Second Gentleman	Their coronets say so. These are stars indeed;
+	And sometimes falling ones.
+
+First Gentleman	No more of that.
+
+	[Exit procession, and then a great flourish of trumpets]
+
+	[Enter a third Gentleman]
+
+First Gentleman	God save you, sir! where have you been broiling?
+
+Third Gentleman	Among the crowd i' the Abbey; where a finger
+	Could not be wedged in more: I am stifled
+	With the mere rankness of their joy.
+
+Second Gentleman	You saw
+	The ceremony?
+
+Third Gentleman	                  That I did.
+
+First Gentleman	How was it?
+
+Third Gentleman	Well worth the seeing.
+
+Second Gentleman	Good sir, speak it to us.
+
+Third Gentleman	As well as I am able. The rich stream
+	Of lords and ladies, having brought the queen
+	To a prepared place in the choir, fell off
+	A distance from her; while her grace sat down
+	To rest awhile, some half an hour or so,
+	In a rich chair of state, opposing freely
+	The beauty of her person to the people.
+	Believe me, sir, she is the goodliest woman
+	That ever lay by man: which when the people
+	Had the full view of, such a noise arose
+	As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest,
+	As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks--
+	Doublets, I think,--flew up; and had their faces
+	Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy
+	I never saw before. Great-bellied women,
+	That had not half a week to go, like rams
+	In the old time of war, would shake the press,
+	And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living
+	Could say 'This is my wife' there; all were woven
+	So strangely in one piece.
+
+Second Gentleman	But, what follow'd?
+
+Third Gentleman	At length her grace rose, and with modest paces
+	Came to the altar; where she kneel'd, and saint-like
+	Cast her fair eyes to heaven and pray'd devoutly.
+	Then rose again and bow'd her to the people:
+	When by the Archbishop of Canterbury
+	She had all the royal makings of a queen;
+	As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown,
+	The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems
+	Laid nobly on her: which perform'd, the choir,
+	With all the choicest music of the kingdom,
+	Together sung 'Te Deum.' So she parted,
+	And with the same full state paced back again
+	To York-place, where the feast is held.
+
+First Gentleman	Sir,
+	You must no more call it York-place, that's past;
+	For, since the cardinal fell, that title's lost:
+	'Tis now the king's, and call'd Whitehall.
+
+Third Gentleman	I know it;
+	But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name
+	Is fresh about me.
+
+Second Gentleman	                  What two reverend bishops
+	Were those that went on each side of the queen?
+
+Third Gentleman	Stokesly and Gardiner; the one of Winchester,
+	Newly preferr'd from the king's secretary,
+	The other, London.
+
+Second Gentleman	                  He of Winchester
+	Is held no great good lover of the archbishop's,
+	The virtuous Cranmer.
+
+Third Gentleman	All the land knows that:
+	However, yet there is no great breach; when it comes,
+	Cranmer will find a friend will not shrink from him.
+
+Second Gentleman	Who may that be, I pray you?
+
+Third Gentleman	Thomas Cromwell;
+	A man in much esteem with the king, and truly
+	A worthy friend. The king has made him master
+	O' the jewel house,
+	And one, already, of the privy council.
+
+Second Gentleman	He will deserve more.
+
+Third Gentleman	Yes, without all doubt.
+	Come, gentlemen, ye shall go my way, which
+	Is to the court, and there ye shall be my guests:
+	Something I can command. As I walk thither,
+	I'll tell ye more.
+
+Both	                  You may command us, sir.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Kimbolton.
+
+
+	[Enter KATHARINE, Dowager, sick; led between
+	GRIFFITH, her gentleman usher, and PATIENCE, her woman]
+
+GRIFFITH	How does your grace?
+
+KATHARINE	O Griffith, sick to death!
+	My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth,
+	Willing to leave their burthen. Reach a chair:
+	So; now, methinks, I feel a little ease.
+	Didst thou not tell me, Griffith, as thou led'st me,
+	That the great child of honour, Cardinal Wolsey, Was dead?
+
+GRIFFITH	        Yes, madam; but I think your grace,
+	Out of the pain you suffer'd, gave no ear to't.
+
+KATHARINE	Prithee, good Griffith, tell me how he died:
+	If well, he stepp'd before me, happily
+	For my example.
+
+GRIFFITH	                  Well, the voice goes, madam:
+	For after the stout Earl Northumberland
+	Arrested him at York, and brought him forward,
+	As a man sorely tainted, to his answer,
+	He fell sick suddenly, and grew so ill
+	He could not sit his mule.
+
+KATHARINE	Alas, poor man!
+
+GRIFFITH	At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,
+	Lodged in the abbey; where the reverend abbot,
+	With all his covent, honourably received him;
+	To whom he gave these words, 'O, father abbot,
+	An old man, broken with the storms of state,
+	Is come to lay his weary bones among ye;
+	Give him a little earth for charity!'
+	So went to bed; where eagerly his sickness
+	Pursued him still: and, three nights after this,
+	About the hour of eight, which he himself
+	Foretold should be his last, full of repentance,
+	Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,
+	He gave his honours to the world again,
+	His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
+
+KATHARINE	So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him!
+	Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him,
+	And yet with charity. He was a man
+	Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking
+	Himself with princes; one that, by suggestion,
+	Tied all the kingdom: simony was fair-play;
+	His own opinion was his law: i' the presence
+	He would say untruths; and be ever double
+	Both in his words and meaning: he was never,
+	But where he meant to ruin, pitiful:
+	His promises were, as he then was, mighty;
+	But his performance, as he is now, nothing:
+	Of his own body he was ill, and gave
+	The clergy in example.
+
+GRIFFITH	Noble madam,
+	Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues
+	We write in water. May it please your highness
+	To hear me speak his good now?
+
+KATHARINE	Yes, good Griffith;
+	I were malicious else.
+
+GRIFFITH	This cardinal,
+	Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly
+	Was fashion'd to much honour from his cradle.
+	He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one;
+	Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading:
+	Lofty and sour to them that loved him not;
+	But to those men that sought him sweet as summer.
+	And though he were unsatisfied in getting,
+	Which was a sin, yet in bestowing, madam,
+	He was most princely: ever witness for him
+	Those twins Of learning that he raised in you,
+	Ipswich and Oxford! one of which fell with him,
+	Unwilling to outlive the good that did it;
+	The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous,
+	So excellent in art, and still so rising,
+	That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
+	His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
+	For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
+	And found the blessedness of being little:
+	And, to add greater honours to his age
+	Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
+
+KATHARINE	After my death I wish no other herald,
+	No other speaker of my living actions,
+	To keep mine honour from corruption,
+	But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
+	Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me,
+	With thy religious truth and modesty,
+	Now in his ashes honour: peace be with him!
+	Patience, be near me still; and set me lower:
+	I have not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith,
+	Cause the musicians play me that sad note
+	I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating
+	On that celestial harmony I go to.
+
+	[Sad and solemn music]
+
+GRIFFITH	She is asleep: good wench, let's sit down quiet,
+	For fear we wake her: softly, gentle Patience.
+
+	[The vision. Enter, solemnly tripping one after
+	another, six personages, clad in white robes,
+	wearing on their heads garlands of bays, and golden
+	vizards on their faces; branches of bays or palm in
+	their hands. They first congee unto her, then
+	dance; and, at certain changes, the first two hold
+	a spare garland over her head; at which the other
+	four make reverent curtsies; then the two that held
+	the garland deliver the same to the other next two,
+	who observe the same order in their changes, and
+	holding the garland over her head: which done,
+	they deliver the same garland to the last two, who
+	likewise observe the same order: at which, as it
+	were by inspiration, she makes in her sleep signs
+	of rejoicing, and holdeth up her hands to heaven:
+	and so in their dancing vanish, carrying the
+	garland with them. The music continues]
+
+KATHARINE	Spirits of peace, where are ye? are ye all gone,
+	And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?
+
+GRIFFITH	Madam, we are here.
+
+KATHARINE	It is not you I call for:
+	Saw ye none enter since I slept?
+
+GRIFFITH	None, madam.
+
+KATHARINE	No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop
+	Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces
+	Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun?
+	They promised me eternal happiness;
+	And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel
+	I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall, assuredly.
+
+GRIFFITH	I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams
+	Possess your fancy.
+
+KATHARINE	Bid the music leave,
+	They are harsh and heavy to me.
+
+	[Music ceases]
+
+PATIENCE	Do you note
+	How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden?
+	How long her face is drawn? how pale she looks,
+	And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes!
+
+GRIFFITH	She is going, wench: pray, pray.
+
+PATIENCE	Heaven comfort her!
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	An't like your grace,--
+
+KATHARINE	You are a saucy fellow:
+	Deserve we no more reverence?
+
+GRIFFITH	You are to blame,
+	Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness,
+	To use so rude behavior; go to, kneel.
+
+Messenger	I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon;
+	My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying
+	A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you.
+
+KATHARINE	Admit him entrance, Griffith: but this fellow
+	Let me ne'er see again.
+
+	[Exeunt GRIFFITH and Messenger]
+
+	[Re-enter GRIFFITH, with CAPUCIUS]
+
+		 If my sight fail not,
+	You should be lord ambassador from the emperor,
+	My royal nephew, and your name Capucius.
+
+CAPUCIUS	Madam, the same; your servant.
+
+KATHARINE	O, my lord,
+	The times and titles now are alter'd strangely
+	With me since first you knew me. But, I pray you,
+	What is your pleasure with me?
+
+CAPUCIUS	Noble lady,
+	First mine own service to your grace; the next,
+	The king's request that I would visit you;
+	Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me
+	Sends you his princely commendations,
+	And heartily entreats you take good comfort.
+
+KATHARINE	O my good lord, that comfort comes too late;
+	'Tis like a pardon after execution:
+	That gentle physic, given in time, had cured me;
+	But now I am past an comforts here, but prayers.
+	How does his highness?
+
+CAPUCIUS	Madam, in good health.
+
+KATHARINE	So may he ever do! and ever flourish,
+	When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name
+	Banish'd the kingdom! Patience, is that letter,
+	I caused you write, yet sent away?
+
+PATIENCE	No, madam.
+
+	[Giving it to KATHARINE]
+
+KATHARINE	Sir, I most humbly pray you to deliver
+	This to my lord the king.
+
+CAPUCIUS	Most willing, madam.
+
+KATHARINE	In which I have commended to his goodness
+	The model of our chaste loves, his young daughter;
+	The dews of heaven fall thick in blessings on her!
+	Beseeching him to give her virtuous breeding--
+	She is young, and of a noble modest nature,
+	I hope she will deserve well,--and a little
+	To love her for her mother's sake, that loved him,
+	Heaven knows how dearly. My next poor petition
+	Is, that his noble grace would have some pity
+	Upon my wretched women, that so long
+	Have follow'd both my fortunes faithfully:
+	Of which there is not one, I dare avow,
+	And now I should not lie, but will deserve
+	For virtue and true beauty of the soul,
+	For honesty and decent carriage,
+	A right good husband, let him be a noble
+	And, sure, those men are happy that shall have 'em.
+	The last is, for my men; they are the poorest,
+	But poverty could never draw 'em from me;
+	That they may have their wages duly paid 'em,
+	And something over to remember me by:
+	If heaven had pleased to have given me longer life
+	And able means, we had not parted thus.
+	These are the whole contents: and, good my lord,
+	By that you love the dearest in this world,
+	As you wish Christian peace to souls departed,
+	Stand these poor people's friend, and urge the king
+	To do me this last right.
+
+CAPUCIUS	By heaven, I will,
+	Or let me lose the fashion of a man!
+
+KATHARINE	I thank you, honest lord. Remember me
+	In all humility unto his highness:
+	Say his long trouble now is passing
+	Out of this world; tell him, in death I bless'd him,
+	For so I will. Mine eyes grow dim. Farewell,
+	My lord. Griffith, farewell. Nay, Patience,
+	You must not leave me yet: I must to bed;
+	Call in more women. When I am dead, good wench,
+	Let me be used with honour: strew me over
+	With maiden flowers, that all the world may know
+	I was a chaste wife to my grave: embalm me,
+	Then lay me forth: although unqueen'd, yet like
+	A queen, and daughter to a king, inter me.
+	I can no more.
+
+	[Exeunt, leading KATHARINE]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. A gallery in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester, a Page with a
+	torch before him, met by LOVELL]
+
+GARDINER	It's one o'clock, boy, is't not?
+
+Boy	It hath struck.
+
+GARDINER	These should be hours for necessities,
+	Not for delights; times to repair our nature
+	With comforting repose, and not for us
+	To waste these times. Good hour of night, Sir Thomas!
+	Whither so late?
+
+LOVELL	                  Came you from the king, my lord
+
+GARDINER	I did, Sir Thomas: and left him at primero
+	With the Duke of Suffolk.
+
+LOVELL	I must to him too,
+	Before he go to bed. I'll take my leave.
+
+GARDINER	Not yet, Sir Thomas Lovell. What's the matter?
+	It seems you are in haste: an if there be
+	No great offence belongs to't, give your friend
+	Some touch of your late business: affairs, that walk,
+	As they say spirits do, at midnight, have
+	In them a wilder nature than the business
+	That seeks dispatch by day.
+
+LOVELL	My lord, I love you;
+	And durst commend a secret to your ear
+	Much weightier than this work. The queen's in labour,
+	They say, in great extremity; and fear'd
+	She'll with the labour end.
+
+GARDINER	The fruit she goes with
+	I pray for heartily, that it may find
+	Good time, and live: but for the stock, Sir Thomas,
+	I wish it grubb'd up now.
+
+LOVELL	Methinks I could
+	Cry the amen; and yet my conscience says
+	She's a good creature, and, sweet lady, does
+	Deserve our better wishes.
+
+GARDINER	But, sir, sir,
+	Hear me, Sir Thomas: you're a gentleman
+	Of mine own way; I know you wise, religious;
+	And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well,
+	'Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovell, take't of me,
+	Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she,
+	Sleep in their graves.
+
+LOVELL	Now, sir, you speak of two
+	The most remark'd i' the kingdom. As for Cromwell,
+	Beside that of the jewel house, is made master
+	O' the rolls, and the king's secretary; further, sir,
+	Stands in the gap and trade of moe preferments,
+	With which the time will load him. The archbishop
+	Is the king's hand and tongue; and who dare speak
+	One syllable against him?
+
+GARDINER	Yes, yes, Sir Thomas,
+	There are that dare; and I myself have ventured
+	To speak my mind of him: and indeed this day,
+	Sir, I may tell it you, I think I have
+	Incensed the lords o' the council, that he is,
+	For so I know he is, they know he is,
+	A most arch heretic, a pestilence
+	That does infect the land: with which they moved
+	Have broken with the king; who hath so far
+	Given ear to our complaint, of his great grace
+	And princely care foreseeing those fell mischiefs
+	Our reasons laid before him, hath commanded
+	To-morrow morning to the council-board
+	He be convented. He's a rank weed, Sir Thomas,
+	And we must root him out. From your affairs
+	I hinder you too long: good night, Sir Thomas.
+
+LOVELL	Many good nights, my lord: I rest your servant.
+
+	[Exeunt GARDINER and Page]
+
+	[Enter KING HENRY VIII and SUFFOLK]
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Charles, I will play no more tonight;
+	My mind's not on't; you are too hard for me.
+
+SUFFOLK	Sir, I did never win of you before.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	But little, Charles;
+	Nor shall not, when my fancy's on my play.
+	Now, Lovell, from the queen what is the news?
+
+LOVELL	I could not personally deliver to her
+	What you commanded me, but by her woman
+	I sent your message; who return'd her thanks
+	In the great'st humbleness, and desired your highness
+	Most heartily to pray for her.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	What say'st thou, ha?
+	To pray for her? what, is she crying out?
+
+LOVELL	So said her woman; and that her sufferance made
+	Almost each pang a death.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Alas, good lady!
+
+SUFFOLK	God safely quit her of her burthen, and
+	With gentle travail, to the gladding of
+	Your highness with an heir!
+
+KING HENRY VIII	'Tis midnight, Charles;
+	Prithee, to bed; and in thy prayers remember
+	The estate of my poor queen. Leave me alone;
+	For I must think of that which company
+	Would not be friendly to.
+
+SUFFOLK	I wish your highness
+	A quiet night; and my good mistress will
+	Remember in my prayers.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Charles, good night.
+
+	[Exit SUFFOLK]
+
+	[Enter DENNY]
+
+	Well, sir, what follows?
+
+DENNY	Sir, I have brought my lord the archbishop,
+	As you commanded me.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Ha! Canterbury?
+
+DENNY	Ay, my good lord.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	'Tis true: where is he, Denny?
+
+DENNY	He attends your highness' pleasure.
+
+	[Exit DENNY]
+
+LOVELL	[Aside]  This is about that which the bishop spake:
+	I am happily come hither.
+
+	[Re-enter DENNY, with CRANMER]
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Avoid the gallery.
+
+	[LOVELL seems to stay]
+
+	Ha! I have said. Be gone. What!
+
+	[Exeunt LOVELL and DENNY]
+
+CRANMER	[Aside]
+	I am fearful: wherefore frowns he thus?
+	'Tis his aspect of terror. All's not well.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	How now, my lord! you desire to know
+	Wherefore I sent for you.
+
+CRANMER	[Kneeling]              It is my duty
+	To attend your highness' pleasure.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Pray you, arise,
+	My good and gracious Lord of Canterbury.
+	Come, you and I must walk a turn together;
+	I have news to tell you: come, come, give me your hand.
+	Ah, my good lord, I grieve at what I speak,
+	And am right sorry to repeat what follows
+	I have, and most unwillingly, of late
+	Heard many grievous, I do say, my lord,
+	Grievous complaints of you; which, being consider'd,
+	Have moved us and our council, that you shall
+	This morning come before us; where, I know,
+	You cannot with such freedom purge yourself,
+	But that, till further trial in those charges
+	Which will require your answer, you must take
+	Your patience to you, and be well contented
+	To make your house our Tower: you a brother of us,
+	It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness
+	Would come against you.
+
+CRANMER	[Kneeling]
+
+		  I humbly thank your highness;
+	And am right glad to catch this good occasion
+	Most throughly to be winnow'd, where my chaff
+	And corn shall fly asunder: for, I know,
+	There's none stands under more calumnious tongues
+	Than I myself, poor man.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Stand up, good Canterbury:
+	Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted
+	In us, thy friend: give me thy hand, stand up:
+	Prithee, let's walk. Now, by my holidame.
+	What manner of man are you? My lord, I look'd
+	You would have given me your petition, that
+	I should have ta'en some pains to bring together
+	Yourself and your accusers; and to have heard you,
+	Without indurance, further.
+
+CRANMER	Most dread liege,
+	The good I stand on is my truth and honesty:
+	If they shall fail, I, with mine enemies,
+	Will triumph o'er my person; which I weigh not,
+	Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing
+	What can be said against me.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Know you not
+	How your state stands i' the world, with the whole world?
+	Your enemies are many, and not small; their practises
+	Must bear the same proportion; and not ever
+	The justice and the truth o' the question carries
+	The due o' the verdict with it: at what ease
+	Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt
+	To swear against you? such things have been done.
+	You are potently opposed; and with a malice
+	Of as great size. Ween you of better luck,
+	I mean, in perjured witness, than your master,
+	Whose minister you are, whiles here he lived
+	Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to;
+	You take a precipice for no leap of danger,
+	And woo your own destruction.
+
+CRANMER	God and your majesty
+	Protect mine innocence, or I fall into
+	The trap is laid for me!
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Be of good cheer;
+	They shall no more prevail than we give way to.
+	Keep comfort to you; and this morning see
+	You do appear before them: if they shall chance,
+	In charging you with matters, to commit you,
+	The best persuasions to the contrary
+	Fail not to use, and with what vehemency
+	The occasion shall instruct you: if entreaties
+	Will render you no remedy, this ring
+	Deliver them, and your appeal to us
+	There make before them. Look, the good man weeps!
+	He's honest, on mine honour. God's blest mother!
+	I swear he is true--hearted; and a soul
+	None better in my kingdom. Get you gone,
+	And do as I have bid you.
+
+	[Exit CRANMER]
+
+		    He has strangled
+	His language in his tears.
+
+	[Enter Old Lady, LOVELL following]
+
+Gentleman	[Within]                 Come back: what mean you?
+
+Old Lady	I'll not come back; the tidings that I bring
+	Will make my boldness manners. Now, good angels
+	Fly o'er thy royal head, and shade thy person
+	Under their blessed wings!
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Now, by thy looks
+	I guess thy message. Is the queen deliver'd?
+	Say, ay; and of a boy.
+
+Old Lady	Ay, ay, my liege;
+	And of a lovely boy: the God of heaven
+	Both now and ever bless her! 'tis a girl,
+	Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your queen
+	Desires your visitation, and to be
+	Acquainted with this stranger 'tis as like you
+	As cherry is to cherry.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Lovell!
+
+LOVELL	Sir?
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Give her an hundred marks. I'll to the queen.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Old Lady	An hundred marks! By this light, I'll ha' more.
+	An ordinary groom is for such payment.
+	I will have more, or scold it out of him.
+	Said I for this, the girl was like to him?
+	I will have more, or else unsay't; and now,
+	While it is hot, I'll put it to the issue.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Before the council-chamber. Pursuivants, Pages, &c.
+	attending.
+
+
+	[Enter CRANMER]
+
+CRANMER	I hope I am not too late; and yet the gentleman,
+	That was sent to me from the council, pray'd me
+	To make great haste. All fast? what means this? Ho!
+	Who waits there? Sure, you know me?
+
+	[Enter Keeper]
+
+Keeper	Yes, my lord;
+	But yet I cannot help you.
+
+CRANMER	Why?
+
+	[Enter DOCTOR BUTTS]
+
+Keeper	Your grace must wait till you be call'd for.
+
+CRANMER	So.
+
+DOCTOR BUTTS	[Aside]  This is a piece of malice. I am glad
+	I came this way so happily: the king
+	Shall understand it presently.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CRANMER	[Aside]	'Tis Butts,
+	The king's physician: as he pass'd along,
+	How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me!
+	Pray heaven, he sound not my disgrace! For certain,
+	This is of purpose laid by some that hate me--
+	God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice--
+	To quench mine honour: they would shame to make me
+	Wait else at door, a fellow-counsellor,
+	'Mong boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their pleasures
+	Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience.
+
+	[Enter the KING HENRY VIII and DOCTOR BUTTS at a window above]
+
+DOCTOR BUTTS	I'll show your grace the strangest sight--
+
+KING HENRY VIII	What's that, Butts?
+
+DOCTOR BUTTS	I think your highness saw this many a day.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Body o' me, where is it?
+
+DOCTOR BUTTS	There, my lord:
+	The high promotion of his grace of Canterbury;
+	Who holds his state at door, 'mongst pursuivants,
+	Pages, and footboys.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Ha! 'tis he, indeed:
+	Is this the honour they do one another?
+	'Tis well there's one above 'em yet. I had thought
+	They had parted so much honesty among 'em
+	At least, good manners, as not thus to suffer
+	A man of his place, and so near our favour,
+	To dance attendance on their lordships' pleasures,
+	And at the door too, like a post with packets.
+	By holy Mary, Butts, there's knavery:
+	Let 'em alone, and draw the curtain close:
+	We shall hear more anon.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The Council-Chamber.
+
+
+	[Enter Chancellor; places himself at the upper end
+	of the table on the left hand; a seat being left
+	void above him, as for CRANMER's seat. SUFFOLK,
+	NORFOLK, SURREY, Chamberlain, GARDINER, seat
+	themselves in order on each side. CROMWELL at
+	lower end, as secretary. Keeper at the door]
+
+Chancellor	Speak to the business, master-secretary:
+	Why are we met in council?
+
+CROMWELL	Please your honours,
+	The chief cause concerns his grace of Canterbury.
+
+GARDINER	Has he had knowledge of it?
+
+CROMWELL	Yes.
+
+NORFOLK	Who waits there?
+
+Keeper	Without, my noble lords?
+
+GARDINER	Yes.
+
+Keeper	My lord archbishop;
+	And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures.
+
+Chancellor	Let him come in.
+
+Keeper	                  Your grace may enter now.
+
+	[CRANMER enters and approaches the council-table]
+
+Chancellor	My good lord archbishop, I'm very sorry
+	To sit here at this present, and behold
+	That chair stand empty: but we all are men,
+	In our own natures frail, and capable
+	Of our flesh; few are angels: out of which frailty
+	And want of wisdom, you, that best should teach us,
+	Have misdemean'd yourself, and not a little,
+	Toward the king first, then his laws, in filling
+	The whole realm, by your teaching and your chaplains,
+	For so we are inform'd, with new opinions,
+	Divers and dangerous; which are heresies,
+	And, not reform'd, may prove pernicious.
+
+GARDINER	Which reformation must be sudden too,
+	My noble lords; for those that tame wild horses
+	Pace 'em not in their hands to make 'em gentle,
+	But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spur 'em,
+	Till they obey the manage. If we suffer,
+	Out of our easiness and childish pity
+	To one man's honour, this contagious sickness,
+	Farewell all physic: and what follows then?
+	Commotions, uproars, with a general taint
+	Of the whole state: as, of late days, our neighbours,
+	The upper Germany, can dearly witness,
+	Yet freshly pitied in our memories.
+
+CRANMER	My good lords, hitherto, in all the progress
+	Both of my life and office, I have labour'd,
+	And with no little study, that my teaching
+	And the strong course of my authority
+	Might go one way, and safely; and the end
+	Was ever, to do well: nor is there living,
+	I speak it with a single heart, my lords,
+	A man that more detests, more stirs against,
+	Both in his private conscience and his place,
+	Defacers of a public peace, than I do.
+	Pray heaven, the king may never find a heart
+	With less allegiance in it! Men that make
+	Envy and crooked malice nourishment
+	Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships,
+	That, in this case of justice, my accusers,
+	Be what they will, may stand forth face to face,
+	And freely urge against me.
+
+SUFFOLK	Nay, my lord,
+	That cannot be: you are a counsellor,
+	And, by that virtue, no man dare accuse you.
+
+GARDINER	My lord, because we have business of more moment,
+	We will be short with you. 'Tis his highness' pleasure,
+	And our consent, for better trial of you,
+	From hence you be committed to the Tower;
+	Where, being but a private man again,
+	You shall know many dare accuse you boldly,
+	More than, I fear, you are provided for.
+
+CRANMER	Ah, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you;
+	You are always my good friend; if your will pass,
+	I shall both find your lordship judge and juror,
+	You are so merciful: I see your end;
+	'Tis my undoing: love and meekness, lord,
+	Become a churchman better than ambition:
+	Win straying souls with modesty again,
+	Cast none away. That I shall clear myself,
+	Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience,
+	I make as little doubt, as you do conscience
+	In doing daily wrongs. I could say more,
+	But reverence to your calling makes me modest.
+
+GARDINER	My lord, my lord, you are a sectary,
+	That's the plain truth: your painted gloss discovers,
+	To men that understand you, words and weakness.
+
+CROMWELL	My Lord of Winchester, you are a little,
+	By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble,
+	However faulty, yet should find respect
+	For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty
+	To load a falling man.
+
+GARDINER	Good master secretary,
+	I cry your honour mercy; you may, worst
+	Of all this table, say so.
+
+CROMWELL	Why, my lord?
+
+GARDINER	Do not I know you for a favourer
+	Of this new sect? ye are not sound.
+
+CROMWELL	Not sound?
+
+GARDINER	Not sound, I say.
+
+CROMWELL	                  Would you were half so honest!
+	Men's prayers then would seek you, not their fears.
+
+GARDINER	I shall remember this bold language.
+
+CROMWELL	Do.
+	Remember your bold life too.
+
+Chancellor	This is too much;
+	Forbear, for shame, my lords.
+
+GARDINER	I have done.
+
+CROMWELL	And I.
+
+Chancellor	Then thus for you, my lord: it stands agreed,
+	I take it, by all voices, that forthwith
+	You be convey'd to the Tower a prisoner;
+	There to remain till the king's further pleasure
+	Be known unto us: are you all agreed, lords?
+
+All	We are.
+
+CRANMER	      Is there no other way of mercy,
+	But I must needs to the Tower, my lords?
+
+GARDINER	What other
+	Would you expect? you are strangely troublesome.
+	Let some o' the guard be ready there.
+
+	[Enter Guard]
+
+CRANMER	For me?
+	Must I go like a traitor thither?
+
+GARDINER	Receive him,
+	And see him safe i' the Tower.
+
+CRANMER	Stay, good my lords,
+	I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords;
+	By virtue of that ring, I take my cause
+	Out of the gripes of cruel men, and give it
+	To a most noble judge, the king my master.
+
+Chamberlain	This is the king's ring.
+
+SURREY	'Tis no counterfeit.
+
+SUFFOLK	'Tis the right ring, by heaven: I told ye all,
+	When ye first put this dangerous stone a-rolling,
+	'Twould fall upon ourselves.
+
+NORFOLK	Do you think, my lords,
+	The king will suffer but the little finger
+	Of this man to be vex'd?
+
+Chancellor	'Tis now too certain:
+	How much more is his life in value with him?
+	Would I were fairly out on't!
+
+CROMWELL	My mind gave me,
+	In seeking tales and informations
+	Against this man, whose honesty the devil
+	And his disciples only envy at,
+	Ye blew the fire that burns ye: now have at ye!
+
+	[Enter KING, frowning on them; takes his seat]
+
+GARDINER	Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven
+	In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince;
+	Not only good and wise, but most religious:
+	One that, in all obedience, makes the church
+	The chief aim of his honour; and, to strengthen
+	That holy duty, out of dear respect,
+	His royal self in judgment comes to hear
+	The cause betwixt her and this great offender.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	You were ever good at sudden commendations,
+	Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not
+	To hear such flattery now, and in my presence;
+	They are too thin and bare to hide offences.
+	To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel,
+	And think with wagging of your tongue to win me;
+	But, whatsoe'er thou takest me for, I'm sure
+	Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody.
+
+	[To CRANMER]
+
+	Good man, sit down. Now let me see the proudest
+	He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee:
+	By all that's holy, he had better starve
+	Than but once think this place becomes thee not.
+
+SURREY	May it please your grace,--
+
+KING HENRY VIII	No, sir, it does not please me.
+	I had thought I had had men of some understanding
+	And wisdom of my council; but I find none.
+	Was it discretion, lords, to let this man,
+	This good man,--few of you deserve that title,--
+	This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy
+	At chamber--door? and one as great as you are?
+	Why, what a shame was this! Did my commission
+	Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye
+	Power as he was a counsellor to try him,
+	Not as a groom: there's some of ye, I see,
+	More out of malice than integrity,
+	Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean;
+	Which ye shall never have while I live.
+
+Chancellor	Thus far,
+	My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace
+	To let my tongue excuse all. What was purposed
+	Concerning his imprisonment, was rather,
+	If there be faith in men, meant for his trial,
+	And fair purgation to the world, than malice,
+	I'm sure, in me.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Well, well, my lords, respect him;
+	Take him, and use him well, he's worthy of it.
+	I will say thus much for him, if a prince
+	May be beholding to a subject, I
+	Am, for his love and service, so to him.
+	Make me no more ado, but all embrace him:
+	Be friends, for shame, my lords! My Lord of
+	Canterbury,
+	I have a suit which you must not deny me;
+	That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism,
+	You must be godfather, and answer for her.
+
+CRANMER	The greatest monarch now alive may glory
+	In such an honour: how may I deserve it
+	That am a poor and humble subject to you?
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Come, come, my lord, you'ld spare your spoons: you
+	shall have two noble partners with you; the old
+	Duchess of Norfolk, and Lady Marquess Dorset: will
+	these please you?
+	Once more, my Lord of Winchester, I charge you,
+	Embrace and love this man.
+
+GARDINER	With a true heart
+	And brother-love I do it.
+
+CRANMER	And let heaven
+	Witness, how dear I hold this confirmation.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Good man, those joyful tears show thy true heart:
+	The common voice, I see, is verified
+	Of thee, which says thus, 'Do my Lord of Canterbury
+	A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever.'
+	Come, lords, we trifle time away; I long
+	To have this young one made a Christian.
+	As I have made ye one, lords, one remain;
+	So I grow stronger, you more honour gain.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The palace yard.
+
+
+	[Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man]
+
+Porter	You'll leave your noise anon, ye rascals: do you
+	take the court for Paris-garden? ye rude slaves,
+	leave your gaping.
+
+	[Within]
+
+	Good master porter, I belong to the larder.
+
+Porter	Belong to the gallows, and be hanged, ye rogue! is
+	this a place to roar in? Fetch me a dozen crab-tree
+	staves, and strong ones: these are but switches to
+	'em. I'll scratch your heads: you must be seeing
+	christenings? do you look for ale and cakes here,
+	you rude rascals?
+
+Man	Pray, sir, be patient: 'tis as much impossible--
+	Unless we sweep 'em from the door with cannons--
+	To scatter 'em, as 'tis to make 'em sleep
+	On May-day morning; which will never be:
+	We may as well push against Powle's, as stir em.
+
+Porter	How got they in, and be hang'd?
+
+Man	Alas, I know not; how gets the tide in?
+	As much as one sound cudgel of four foot--
+	You see the poor remainder--could distribute,
+	I made no spare, sir.
+
+Porter	You did nothing, sir.
+
+Man	I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand,
+	To mow 'em down before me: but if I spared any
+	That had a head to hit, either young or old,
+	He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker,
+	Let me ne'er hope to see a chine again
+	And that I would not for a cow, God save her!
+
+	[Within]
+
+	Do you hear, master porter?
+
+Porter	I shall be with you presently, good master puppy.
+	Keep the door close, sirrah.
+
+Man	What would you have me do?
+
+Porter	What should you do, but knock 'em down by the
+	dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? or have
+	we some strange Indian with the great tool come to
+	court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a
+	fry of fornication is at door! On my Christian
+	conscience, this one christening will beget a
+	thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all together.
+
+Man	The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is a
+	fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a
+	brazier by his face, for, o' my conscience, twenty
+	of the dog-days now reign in's nose; all that stand
+	about him are under the line, they need no other
+	penance: that fire-drake did I hit three times on
+	the head, and three times was his nose discharged
+	against me; he stands there, like a mortar-piece, to
+	blow us. There was a haberdasher's wife of small
+	wit near him, that railed upon me till her pinked
+	porringer fell off her head, for kindling such a
+	combustion in the state. I missed the meteor once,
+	and hit that woman; who cried out 'Clubs!' when I
+	might see from far some forty truncheoners draw to
+	her succor, which were the hope o' the Strand, where
+	she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my
+	place: at length they came to the broom-staff to
+	me; I defied 'em still: when suddenly a file of
+	boys behind 'em, loose shot, delivered such a shower
+	of pebbles, that I was fain to draw mine honour in,
+	and let 'em win the work: the devil was amongst
+	'em, I think, surely.
+
+Porter	These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse,
+	and fight for bitten apples; that no audience, but
+	the tribulation of Tower-hill, or the limbs of
+	Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure.
+	I have some of 'em in Limbo Patrum, and there they
+	are like to dance these three days; besides the
+	running banquet of two beadles that is to come.
+
+	[Enter Chamberlain]
+
+Chamberlain	Mercy o' me, what a multitude are here!
+	They grow still too; from all parts they are coming,
+	As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters,
+	These lazy knaves? Ye have made a fine hand, fellows:
+	There's a trim rabble let in: are all these
+	Your faithful friends o' the suburbs? We shall have
+	Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies,
+	When they pass back from the christening.
+
+Porter	An't please
+	your honour,
+	We are but men; and what so many may do,
+	Not being torn a-pieces, we have done:
+	An army cannot rule 'em.
+
+Chamberlain	As I live,
+	If the king blame me for't, I'll lay ye all
+	By the heels, and suddenly; and on your heads
+	Clap round fines for neglect: ye are lazy knaves;
+	And here ye lie baiting of bombards, when
+	Ye should do service. Hark! the trumpets sound;
+	They're come already from the christening:
+	Go, break among the press, and find a way out
+	To let the troop pass fairly; or I'll find
+	A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two months.
+
+Porter	Make way there for the princess.
+
+Man	You great fellow,
+	Stand close up, or I'll make your head ache.
+
+Porter	You i' the camlet, get up o' the rail;
+	I'll peck you o'er the pales else.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, Lord
+	Mayor, Garter, CRANMER, NORFOLK with his marshal's
+	staff, SUFFOLK, two Noblemen bearing great
+	standing-bowls for the christening-gifts; then
+	four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the
+	Duchess of Norfolk, godmother, bearing the child
+	richly habited in a mantle, &c., train borne by a
+	Lady; then follows the Marchioness Dorset, the
+	other godmother, and Ladies. The troop pass once
+	about the stage, and Garter speaks]
+
+Garter	Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous
+	life, long, and ever happy, to the high and mighty
+	princess of England, Elizabeth!
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VIII and Guard]
+
+CRANMER	[Kneeling] And to your royal grace, and the good queen,
+	My noble partners, and myself, thus pray:
+	All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady,
+	Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy,
+	May hourly fall upon ye!
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Thank you, good lord archbishop:
+	What is her name?
+
+CRANMER	                  Elizabeth.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Stand up, lord.
+
+	[KING HENRY VIII kisses the child]
+
+	With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee!
+	Into whose hand I give thy life.
+
+CRANMER	Amen.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	My noble gossips, ye have been too prodigal:
+	I thank ye heartily; so shall this lady,
+	When she has so much English.
+
+CRANMER	Let me speak, sir,
+	For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter
+	Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth.
+	This royal infant--heaven still move about her!--
+	Though in her cradle, yet now promises
+	Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings,
+	Which time shall bring to ripeness: she shall be--
+	But few now living can behold that goodness--
+	A pattern to all princes living with her,
+	And all that shall succeed: Saba was never
+	More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue
+	Than this pure soul shall be: all princely graces,
+	That mould up such a mighty piece as this is,
+	With all the virtues that attend the good,
+	Shall still be doubled on her: truth shall nurse her,
+	Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her:
+	She shall be loved and fear'd: her own shall bless her;
+	Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn,
+	And hang their heads with sorrow: good grows with her:
+	In her days every man shall eat in safety,
+	Under his own vine, what he plants; and sing
+	The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours:
+	God shall be truly known; and those about her
+	From her shall read the perfect ways of honour,
+	And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.
+	Nor shall this peace sleep with her: but as when
+	The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix,
+	Her ashes new create another heir,
+	As great in admiration as herself;
+	So shall she leave her blessedness to one,
+	When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness,
+	Who from the sacred ashes of her honour
+	Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was,
+	And so stand fix'd: peace, plenty, love, truth, terror,
+	That were the servants to this chosen infant,
+	Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him:
+	Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,
+	His honour and the greatness of his name
+	Shall be, and make new nations: he shall flourish,
+	And, like a mountain cedar, reach his branches
+	To all the plains about him: our children's children
+	Shall see this, and bless heaven.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	Thou speakest wonders.
+
+CRANMER	She shall be, to the happiness of England,
+	An aged princess; many days shall see her,
+	And yet no day without a deed to crown it.
+	Would I had known no more! but she must die,
+	She must, the saints must have her; yet a virgin,
+	A most unspotted lily shall she pass
+	To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her.
+
+KING HENRY VIII	O lord archbishop,
+	Thou hast made me now a man! never, before
+	This happy child, did I get any thing:
+	This oracle of comfort has so pleased me,
+	That when I am in heaven I shall desire
+	To see what this child does, and praise my Maker.
+	I thank ye all. To you, my good lord mayor,
+	And your good brethren, I am much beholding;
+	I have received much honour by your presence,
+	And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords:
+	Ye must all see the queen, and she must thank ye,
+	She will be sick else. This day, no man think
+	Has business at his house; for all shall stay:
+	This little one shall make it holiday.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING HENRY VIII
+
+	EPILOGUE
+
+
+	'Tis ten to one this play can never please
+	All that are here: some come to take their ease,
+	And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear,
+	We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis clear,
+	They'll say 'tis naught: others, to hear the city
+	Abused extremely, and to cry 'That's witty!'
+	Which we have not done neither: that, I fear,
+	All the expected good we're like to hear
+	For this play at this time, is only in
+	The merciful construction of good women;
+	For such a one we show'd 'em: if they smile,
+	And say 'twill do, I know, within a while
+	All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap,
+	If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap.
+	KING JOHN
+	
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+KING JOHN:
+
+PRINCE HENRY	son to the king.
+
+ARTHUR	Duke of Bretagne, nephew to the king.
+
+The Earl of
+PEMBROKE	(PEMBROKE:)
+
+The Earl of ESSEX	(ESSEX:)
+
+The Earl of
+SALISBURY	(SALISBURY:)
+
+The Lord BIGOT	(BIGOT:)
+
+HUBERT DE BURGH	(HUBERT:)
+
+ROBERT
+FAULCONBRIDGE	Son to Sir Robert Faulconbridge. (ROBERT:)
+
+PHILIP the BASTARD	his half-brother. (BASTARD:)
+
+JAMES GURNEY	servant to Lady Faulconbridge. (GURNEY:)
+
+PETER Of Pomfret	a prophet. (PETER:)
+
+PHILIP	King of France. (KING PHILIP:)
+
+LEWIS	the Dauphin.
+
+LYMOGES	Duke of AUSTRIA. (AUSTRIA:)
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	the Pope's legate.
+
+MELUN	a French Lord.
+
+CHATILLON	ambassador from France to King John.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	mother to King John.
+
+CONSTANCE	mother to Arthur.
+
+BLANCH of Spain	niece to King John. (BLANCH:)
+
+LADY FAULCONBRIDGE:
+
+	Lords, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff, Heralds,
+	Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.
+	(First Citizen:)
+	(French Herald:)
+	(English Herald:)
+	(First Executioner:)
+	(Messenger:)
+
+
+SCENE	Partly in England, and partly in France.
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	KING JOHN'S palace.
+
+
+	[Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, PEMBROKE, ESSEX,
+	SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON]
+
+KING JOHN	Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with us?
+
+CHATILLON	Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France
+	In my behavior to the majesty,
+	The borrow'd majesty, of England here.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	A strange beginning: 'borrow'd majesty!'
+
+KING JOHN	Silence, good mother; hear the embassy.
+
+CHATILLON	Philip of France, in right and true behalf
+	Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son,
+	Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim
+	To this fair island and the territories,
+	To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine,
+	Desiring thee to lay aside the sword
+	Which sways usurpingly these several titles,
+	And put these same into young Arthur's hand,
+	Thy nephew and right royal sovereign.
+
+KING JOHN	What follows if we disallow of this?
+
+CHATILLON	The proud control of fierce and bloody war,
+	To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld.
+
+KING JOHN	Here have we war for war and blood for blood,
+	Controlment for controlment: so answer France.
+
+CHATILLON	Then take my king's defiance from my mouth,
+	The farthest limit of my embassy.
+
+KING JOHN	Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace:
+	Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France;
+	For ere thou canst report I will be there,
+	The thunder of my cannon shall be heard:
+	So hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath
+	And sullen presage of your own decay.
+	An honourable conduct let him have:
+	Pembroke, look to 't. Farewell, Chatillon.
+
+	[Exeunt CHATILLON and PEMBROKE]
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	What now, my son! have I not ever said
+	How that ambitious Constance would not cease
+	Till she had kindled France and all the world,
+	Upon the right and party of her son?
+	This might have been prevented and made whole
+	With very easy arguments of love,
+	Which now the manage of two kingdoms must
+	With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.
+
+KING JOHN	Our strong possession and our right for us.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	Your strong possession much more than your right,
+	Or else it must go wrong with you and me:
+	So much my conscience whispers in your ear,
+	Which none but heaven and you and I shall hear.
+
+	[Enter a Sheriff]
+
+ESSEX	My liege, here is the strangest controversy
+	Come from country to be judged by you,
+	That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men?
+
+KING JOHN	Let them approach.
+	Our abbeys and our priories shall pay
+	This expedition's charge.
+
+	[Enter ROBERT and the BASTARD]
+
+		    What men are you?
+
+BASTARD	Your faithful subject I, a gentleman
+	Born in Northamptonshire and eldest son,
+	As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge,
+	A soldier, by the honour-giving hand
+	Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field.
+
+KING JOHN	What art thou?
+
+ROBERT	The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge.
+
+KING JOHN	Is that the elder, and art thou the heir?
+	You came not of one mother then, it seems.
+
+BASTARD	Most certain of one mother, mighty king;
+	That is well known; and, as I think, one father:
+	But for the certain knowledge of that truth
+	I put you o'er to heaven and to my mother:
+	Of that I doubt, as all men's children may.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy mother
+	And wound her honour with this diffidence.
+
+BASTARD	I, madam? no, I have no reason for it;
+	That is my brother's plea and none of mine;
+	The which if he can prove, a' pops me out
+	At least from fair five hundred pound a year:
+	Heaven guard my mother's honour and my land!
+
+KING JOHN	A good blunt fellow. Why, being younger born,
+	Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance?
+
+BASTARD	I know not why, except to get the land.
+	But once he slander'd me with bastardy:
+	But whether I be as true begot or no,
+	That still I lay upon my mother's head,
+	But that I am as well begot, my liege,--
+	Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!--
+	Compare our faces and be judge yourself.
+	If old sir Robert did beget us both
+	And were our father and this son like him,
+	O old sir Robert, father, on my knee
+	I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee!
+
+KING JOHN	Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here!
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion's face;
+	The accent of his tongue affecteth him.
+	Do you not read some tokens of my son
+	In the large composition of this man?
+
+KING JOHN	Mine eye hath well examined his parts
+	And finds them perfect Richard. Sirrah, speak,
+	What doth move you to claim your brother's land?
+
+BASTARD	Because he hath a half-face, like my father.
+	With half that face would he have all my land:
+	A half-faced groat five hundred pound a year!
+
+ROBERT	My gracious liege, when that my father lived,
+	Your brother did employ my father much,--
+
+BASTARD	Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land:
+	Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother.
+
+ROBERT	And once dispatch'd him in an embassy
+	To Germany, there with the emperor
+	To treat of high affairs touching that time.
+	The advantage of his absence took the king
+	And in the mean time sojourn'd at my father's;
+	Where how he did prevail I shame to speak,
+	But truth is truth: large lengths of seas and shores
+	Between my father and my mother lay,
+	As I have heard my father speak himself,
+	When this same lusty gentleman was got.
+	Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd
+	His lands to me, and took it on his death
+	That this my mother's son was none of his;
+	And if he were, he came into the world
+	Full fourteen weeks before the course of time.
+	Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine,
+	My father's land, as was my father's will.
+
+KING JOHN	Sirrah, your brother is legitimate;
+	Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him,
+	And if she did play false, the fault was hers;
+	Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands
+	That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother,
+	Who, as you say, took pains to get this son,
+	Had of your father claim'd this son for his?
+	In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept
+	This calf bred from his cow from all the world;
+	In sooth he might; then, if he were my brother's,
+	My brother might not claim him; nor your father,
+	Being none of his, refuse him: this concludes;
+	My mother's son did get your father's heir;
+	Your father's heir must have your father's land.
+
+ROBERT	Shall then my father's will be of no force
+	To dispossess that child which is not his?
+
+BASTARD	Of no more force to dispossess me, sir,
+	Than was his will to get me, as I think.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge
+	And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land,
+	Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion,
+	Lord of thy presence and no land beside?
+
+BASTARD	Madam, an if my brother had my shape,
+	And I had his, sir Robert's his, like him;
+	And if my legs were two such riding-rods,
+	My arms such eel-skins stuff'd, my face so thin
+	That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose
+	Lest men should say 'Look, where three-farthings goes!'
+	And, to his shape, were heir to all this land,
+	Would I might never stir from off this place,
+	I would give it every foot to have this face;
+	I would not be sir Nob in any case.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	I like thee well: wilt thou forsake thy fortune,
+	Bequeath thy land to him and follow me?
+	I am a soldier and now bound to France.
+
+BASTARD	Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance.
+	Your face hath got five hundred pound a year,
+	Yet sell your face for five pence and 'tis dear.
+	Madam, I'll follow you unto the death.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	Nay, I would have you go before me thither.
+
+BASTARD	Our country manners give our betters way.
+
+KING JOHN	What is thy name?
+
+BASTARD	Philip, my liege, so is my name begun,
+	Philip, good old sir Robert's wife's eldest son.
+
+KING JOHN	From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear'st:
+	Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great,
+	Arise sir Richard and Plantagenet.
+
+BASTARD	Brother by the mother's side, give me your hand:
+	My father gave me honour, yours gave land.
+	Now blessed by the hour, by night or day,
+	When I was got, sir Robert was away!
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	The very spirit of Plantagenet!
+	I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so.
+
+BASTARD	Madam, by chance but not by truth; what though?
+	Something about, a little from the right,
+	In at the window, or else o'er the hatch:
+	Who dares not stir by day must walk by night,
+	And have is have, however men do catch:
+	Near or far off, well won is still well shot,
+	And I am I, howe'er I was begot.
+
+KING JOHN	Go, Faulconbridge: now hast thou thy desire;
+	A landless knight makes thee a landed squire.
+	Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must speed
+	For France, for France, for it is more than need.
+
+BASTARD	Brother, adieu: good fortune come to thee!
+	For thou wast got i' the way of honesty.
+
+	[Exeunt all but BASTARD]
+
+	A foot of honour better than I was;
+	But many a many foot of land the worse.
+	Well, now can I make any Joan a lady.
+	'Good den, sir Richard!'--'God-a-mercy, fellow!'--
+	And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter;
+	For new-made honour doth forget men's names;
+	'Tis too respective and too sociable
+	For your conversion. Now your traveller,
+	He and his toothpick at my worship's mess,
+	And when my knightly stomach is sufficed,
+	Why then I suck my teeth and catechise
+	My picked man of countries: 'My dear sir,'
+	Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin,
+	'I shall beseech you'--that is question now;
+	And then comes answer like an Absey book:
+	'O sir,' says answer, 'at your best command;
+	At your employment; at your service, sir;'
+	'No, sir,' says question, 'I, sweet sir, at yours:'
+	And so, ere answer knows what question would,
+	Saving in dialogue of compliment,
+	And talking of the Alps and Apennines,
+	The Pyrenean and the river Po,
+	It draws toward supper in conclusion so.
+	But this is worshipful society
+	And fits the mounting spirit like myself,
+	For he is but a bastard to the time
+	That doth not smack of observation;
+	And so am I, whether I smack or no;
+	And not alone in habit and device,
+	Exterior form, outward accoutrement,
+	But from the inward motion to deliver
+	Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth:
+	Which, though I will not practise to deceive,
+	Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn;
+	For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising.
+	But who comes in such haste in riding-robes?
+	What woman-post is this? hath she no husband
+	That will take pains to blow a horn before her?
+
+	[Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE and GURNEY]
+
+	O me! it is my mother. How now, good lady!
+	What brings you here to court so hastily?
+
+LADY FAULCONBRIDGE	Where is that slave, thy brother? where is he,
+	That holds in chase mine honour up and down?
+
+BASTARD	My brother Robert? old sir Robert's son?
+	Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man?
+	Is it sir Robert's son that you seek so?
+
+LADY FAULCONBRIDGE	Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy,
+	Sir Robert's son: why scorn'st thou at sir Robert?
+	He is sir Robert's son, and so art thou.
+
+BASTARD	James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile?
+
+GURNEY	Good leave, good Philip.
+
+BASTARD	Philip! sparrow: James,
+	There's toys abroad: anon I'll tell thee more.
+
+	[Exit GURNEY]
+
+	Madam, I was not old sir Robert's son:
+	Sir Robert might have eat his part in me
+	Upon Good-Friday and ne'er broke his fast:
+	Sir Robert could do well: marry, to confess,
+	Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it:
+	We know his handiwork: therefore, good mother,
+	To whom am I beholding for these limbs?
+	Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.
+
+LADY FAULCONBRIDGE	Hast thou conspired with thy brother too,
+	That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour?
+	What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?
+
+BASTARD	Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like.
+	What! I am dubb'd! I have it on my shoulder.
+	But, mother, I am not sir Robert's son;
+	I have disclaim'd sir Robert and my land;
+	Legitimation, name and all is gone:
+	Then, good my mother, let me know my father;
+	Some proper man, I hope: who was it, mother?
+
+LADY FAULCONBRIDGE	Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge?
+
+BASTARD	As faithfully as I deny the devil.
+
+LADY FAULCONBRIDGE	King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father:
+	By long and vehement suit I was seduced
+	To make room for him in my husband's bed:
+	Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge!
+	Thou art the issue of my dear offence,
+	Which was so strongly urged past my defence.
+
+BASTARD	Now, by this light, were I to get again,
+	Madam, I would not wish a better father.
+	Some sins do bear their privilege on earth,
+	And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly:
+	Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose,
+	Subjected tribute to commanding love,
+	Against whose fury and unmatched force
+	The aweless lion could not wage the fight,
+	Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand.
+	He that perforce robs lions of their hearts
+	May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother,
+	With all my heart I thank thee for my father!
+	Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well
+	When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell.
+	Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin;
+	And they shall say, when Richard me begot,
+	If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin:
+	Who says it was, he lies; I say 'twas not.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	France. Before Angiers.
+
+
+	[Enter AUSTRIA and forces, drums, etc. on one side:
+	on the other KING PHILIP and his power; LEWIS,
+	ARTHUR, CONSTANCE and attendants]
+
+LEWIS	Before Angiers well met, brave Austria.
+	Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood,
+	Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart
+	And fought the holy wars in Palestine,
+	By this brave duke came early to his grave:
+	And for amends to his posterity,
+	At our importance hither is he come,
+	To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf,
+	And to rebuke the usurpation
+	Of thy unnatural uncle, English John:
+	Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.
+
+ARTHUR	God shall forgive you Coeur-de-lion's death
+	The rather that you give his offspring life,
+	Shadowing their right under your wings of war:
+	I give you welcome with a powerless hand,
+	But with a heart full of unstained love:
+	Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke.
+
+LEWIS	A noble boy! Who would not do thee right?
+
+AUSTRIA	Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss,
+	As seal to this indenture of my love,
+	That to my home I will no more return,
+	Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France,
+	Together with that pale, that white-faced shore,
+	Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides
+	And coops from other lands her islanders,
+	Even till that England, hedged in with the main,
+	That water-walled bulwark, still secure
+	And confident from foreign purposes,
+	Even till that utmost corner of the west
+	Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy,
+	Will I not think of home, but follow arms.
+
+CONSTANCE	O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks,
+	Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength
+	To make a more requital to your love!
+
+AUSTRIA	The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords
+	In such a just and charitable war.
+
+KING PHILIP	Well then, to work: our cannon shall be bent
+	Against the brows of this resisting town.
+	Call for our chiefest men of discipline,
+	To cull the plots of best advantages:
+	We'll lay before this town our royal bones,
+	Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood,
+	But we will make it subject to this boy.
+
+CONSTANCE	Stay for an answer to your embassy,
+	Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood:
+	My Lord Chatillon may from England bring,
+	That right in peace which here we urge in war,
+	And then we shall repent each drop of blood
+	That hot rash haste so indirectly shed.
+
+	[Enter CHATILLON]
+
+KING PHILIP	A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish,
+	Our messenger Chatillon is arrived!
+	What England says, say briefly, gentle lord;
+	We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak.
+
+CHATILLON	Then turn your forces from this paltry siege
+	And stir them up against a mightier task.
+	England, impatient of your just demands,
+	Hath put himself in arms: the adverse winds,
+	Whose leisure I have stay'd, have given him time
+	To land his legions all as soon as I;
+	His marches are expedient to this town,
+	His forces strong, his soldiers confident.
+	With him along is come the mother-queen,
+	An Ate, stirring him to blood and strife;
+	With her her niece, the Lady Blanch of Spain;
+	With them a bastard of the king's deceased,
+	And all the unsettled humours of the land,
+	Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries,
+	With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens,
+	Have sold their fortunes at their native homes,
+	Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs,
+	To make hazard of new fortunes here:
+	In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits
+	Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er
+	Did nearer float upon the swelling tide,
+	To do offence and scath in Christendom.
+
+	[Drum beats]
+
+	The interruption of their churlish drums
+	Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand,
+	To parley or to fight; therefore prepare.
+
+KING PHILIP	How much unlook'd for is this expedition!
+
+AUSTRIA	By how much unexpected, by so much
+	We must awake endavour for defence;
+	For courage mounteth with occasion:
+	Let them be welcome then: we are prepared.
+
+	[Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, BLANCH, the BASTARD,
+	Lords, and forces]
+
+KING JOHN	Peace be to France, if France in peace permit
+	Our just and lineal entrance to our own;
+	If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven,
+	Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct
+	Their proud contempt that beats His peace to heaven.
+
+KING PHILIP	Peace be to England, if that war return
+	From France to England, there to live in peace.
+	England we love; and for that England's sake
+	With burden of our armour here we sweat.
+	This toil of ours should be a work of thine;
+	But thou from loving England art so far,
+	That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king
+	Cut off the sequence of posterity,
+	Out-faced infant state and done a rape
+	Upon the maiden virtue of the crown.
+	Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face;
+	These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his:
+	This little abstract doth contain that large
+	Which died in Geffrey, and the hand of time
+	Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume.
+	That Geffrey was thy elder brother born,
+	And this his son; England was Geffrey's right
+	And this is Geffrey's: in the name of God
+	How comes it then that thou art call'd a king,
+	When living blood doth in these temples beat,
+	Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest?
+
+KING JOHN	From whom hast thou this great commission, France,
+	To draw my answer from thy articles?
+
+KING PHILIP	From that supernal judge, that stirs good thoughts
+	In any breast of strong authority,
+	To look into the blots and stains of right:
+	That judge hath made me guardian to this boy:
+	Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong
+	And by whose help I mean to chastise it.
+
+KING JOHN	Alack, thou dost usurp authority.
+
+KING PHILIP	Excuse; it is to beat usurping down.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	Who is it thou dost call usurper, France?
+
+CONSTANCE	Let me make answer; thy usurping son.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be king,
+	That thou mayst be a queen, and cheque the world!
+
+CONSTANCE	My bed was ever to thy son as true
+	As thine was to thy husband; and this boy
+	Liker in feature to his father Geffrey
+	Than thou and John in manners; being as like
+	As rain to water, or devil to his dam.
+	My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think
+	His father never was so true begot:
+	It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father.
+
+CONSTANCE	There's a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee.
+
+AUSTRIA	Peace!
+
+BASTARD	     Hear the crier.
+
+AUSTRIA	What the devil art thou?
+
+BASTARD	One that will play the devil, sir, with you,
+	An a' may catch your hide and you alone:
+	You are the hare of whom the proverb goes,
+	Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard;
+	I'll smoke your skin-coat, an I catch you right;
+	Sirrah, look to't; i' faith, I will, i' faith.
+
+BLANCH	O, well did he become that lion's robe
+	That did disrobe the lion of that robe!
+
+BASTARD	It lies as sightly on the back of him
+	As great Alcides' shows upon an ass:
+	But, ass, I'll take that burthen from your back,
+	Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack.
+
+AUSTRIA	What craker is this same that deafs our ears
+	With this abundance of superfluous breath?
+
+KING PHILIP	Lewis, determine what we shall do straight.
+
+LEWIS	Women and fools, break off your conference.
+	King John, this is the very sum of all;
+	England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine,
+	In right of Arthur do I claim of thee:
+	Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms?
+
+KING JOHN	My life as soon: I do defy thee, France.
+	Arthur of Bretagne, yield thee to my hand;
+	And out of my dear love I'll give thee more
+	Than e'er the coward hand of France can win:
+	Submit thee, boy.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	                  Come to thy grandam, child.
+
+CONSTANCE	Do, child, go to it grandam, child:
+	Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will
+	Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig:
+	There's a good grandam.
+
+ARTHUR	Good my mother, peace!
+	I would that I were low laid in my grave:
+	I am not worth this coil that's made for me.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps.
+
+CONSTANCE	Now shame upon you, whether she does or no!
+	His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames,
+	Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes,
+	Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee;
+	Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be bribed
+	To do him justice and revenge on you.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth!
+
+CONSTANCE	Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth!
+	Call not me slanderer; thou and thine usurp
+	The dominations, royalties and rights
+	Of this oppressed boy: this is thy eld'st son's son,
+	Infortunate in nothing but in thee:
+	Thy sins are visited in this poor child;
+	The canon of the law is laid on him,
+	Being but the second generation
+	Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb.
+
+KING JOHN	Bedlam, have done.
+
+CONSTANCE	                  I have but this to say,
+	That he is not only plagued for her sin,
+	But God hath made her sin and her the plague
+	On this removed issue, plague for her
+	And with her plague; her sin his injury,
+	Her injury the beadle to her sin,
+	All punish'd in the person of this child,
+	And all for her; a plague upon her!
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	Thou unadvised scold, I can produce
+	A will that bars the title of thy son.
+
+CONSTANCE	Ay, who doubts that? a will! a wicked will:
+	A woman's will; a canker'd grandam's will!
+
+KING PHILIP	Peace, lady! pause, or be more temperate:
+	It ill beseems this presence to cry aim
+	To these ill-tuned repetitions.
+	Some trumpet summon hither to the walls
+	These men of Angiers: let us hear them speak
+	Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's.
+
+	[Trumpet sounds. Enter certain Citizens upon the walls]
+
+First Citizen	Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls?
+
+KING PHILIP	'Tis France, for England.
+
+KING JOHN	England, for itself.
+	You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects--
+
+KING PHILIP	You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects,
+	Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle--
+
+KING JOHN	For our advantage; therefore hear us first.
+	These flags of France, that are advanced here
+	Before the eye and prospect of your town,
+	Have hither march'd to your endamagement:
+	The cannons have their bowels full of wrath,
+	And ready mounted are they to spit forth
+	Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls:
+	All preparation for a bloody siege
+	All merciless proceeding by these French
+	Confronts your city's eyes, your winking gates;
+	And but for our approach those sleeping stones,
+	That as a waist doth girdle you about,
+	By the compulsion of their ordinance
+	By this time from their fixed beds of lime
+	Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made
+	For bloody power to rush upon your peace.
+	But on the sight of us your lawful king,
+	Who painfully with much expedient march
+	Have brought a countercheque before your gates,
+	To save unscratch'd your city's threatened cheeks,
+	Behold, the French amazed vouchsafe a parle;
+	And now, instead of bullets wrapp'd in fire,
+	To make a shaking fever in your walls,
+	They shoot but calm words folded up in smoke,
+	To make a faithless error in your ears:
+	Which trust accordingly, kind citizens,
+	And let us in, your king, whose labour'd spirits,
+	Forwearied in this action of swift speed,
+	Crave harbourage within your city walls.
+
+KING PHILIP	When I have said, make answer to us both.
+	Lo, in this right hand, whose protection
+	Is most divinely vow'd upon the right
+	Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet,
+	Son to the elder brother of this man,
+	And king o'er him and all that he enjoys:
+	For this down-trodden equity, we tread
+	In warlike march these greens before your town,
+	Being no further enemy to you
+	Than the constraint of hospitable zeal
+	In the relief of this oppressed child
+	Religiously provokes. Be pleased then
+	To pay that duty which you truly owe
+	To that owes it, namely this young prince:
+	And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear,
+	Save in aspect, hath all offence seal'd up;
+	Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent
+	Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven;
+	And with a blessed and unvex'd retire,
+	With unhack'd swords and helmets all unbruised,
+	We will bear home that lusty blood again
+	Which here we came to spout against your town,
+	And leave your children, wives and you in peace.
+	But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer,
+	'Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls
+	Can hide you from our messengers of war,
+	Though all these English and their discipline
+	Were harbour'd in their rude circumference.
+	Then tell us, shall your city call us lord,
+	In that behalf which we have challenged it?
+	Or shall we give the signal to our rage
+	And stalk in blood to our possession?
+
+First Citizen	In brief, we are the king of England's subjects:
+	For him, and in his right, we hold this town.
+
+KING JOHN	Acknowledge then the king, and let me in.
+
+First Citizen	That can we not; but he that proves the king,
+	To him will we prove loyal: till that time
+	Have we ramm'd up our gates against the world.
+
+KING JOHN	Doth not the crown of England prove the king?
+	And if not that, I bring you witnesses,
+	Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's breed,--
+
+BASTARD	Bastards, and else.
+
+KING JOHN	To verify our title with their lives.
+
+KING PHILIP	As many and as well-born bloods as those,--
+
+BASTARD	Some bastards too.
+
+KING PHILIP	Stand in his face to contradict his claim.
+
+First Citizen	Till you compound whose right is worthiest,
+	We for the worthiest hold the right from both.
+
+KING JOHN	Then God forgive the sin of all those souls
+	That to their everlasting residence,
+	Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet,
+	In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king!
+
+KING PHILIP	Amen, amen! Mount, chevaliers! to arms!
+
+BASTARD	Saint George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er since
+	Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door,
+	Teach us some fence!
+
+	[To AUSTRIA]
+
+		Sirrah, were I at home,
+	At your den, sirrah, with your lioness
+	I would set an ox-head to your lion's hide,
+	And make a monster of you.
+
+AUSTRIA	Peace! no more.
+
+BASTARD	O tremble, for you hear the lion roar.
+
+KING JOHN	Up higher to the plain; where we'll set forth
+	In best appointment all our regiments.
+
+BASTARD	Speed then, to take advantage of the field.
+
+KING PHILIP	It shall be so; and at the other hill
+	Command the rest to stand. God and our right!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Here after excursions, enter the Herald of France,
+	with trumpets, to the gates]
+
+French Herald	You men of Angiers, open wide your gates,
+	And let young Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, in,
+	Who by the hand of France this day hath made
+	Much work for tears in many an English mother,
+	Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground;
+	Many a widow's husband grovelling lies,
+	Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth;
+	And victory, with little loss, doth play
+	Upon the dancing banners of the French,
+	Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd,
+	To enter conquerors and to proclaim
+	Arthur of Bretagne England's king and yours.
+
+	[Enter English Herald, with trumpet]
+
+English Herald	Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells:
+	King John, your king and England's doth approach,
+	Commander of this hot malicious day:
+	Their armours, that march'd hence so silver-bright,
+	Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood;
+	There stuck no plume in any English crest
+	That is removed by a staff of France;
+	Our colours do return in those same hands
+	That did display them when we first march'd forth;
+	And, like a troop of jolly huntsmen, come
+	Our lusty English, all with purpled hands,
+	Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes:
+	Open your gates and gives the victors way.
+
+First Citizen	Heralds, from off our towers we might behold,
+	From first to last, the onset and retire
+	Of both your armies; whose equality
+	By our best eyes cannot be censured:
+	Blood hath bought blood and blows have answered blows;
+	Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power:
+	Both are alike; and both alike we like.
+	One must prove greatest: while they weigh so even,
+	We hold our town for neither, yet for both.
+
+	[Re-enter KING JOHN and KING PHILIP, with their
+	powers, severally]
+
+KING JOHN	France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away?
+	Say, shall the current of our right run on?
+	Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment,
+	Shall leave his native channel and o'erswell
+	With course disturb'd even thy confining shores,
+	Unless thou let his silver water keep
+	A peaceful progress to the ocean.
+
+KING PHILIP	England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood,
+	In this hot trial, more than we of France;
+	Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear,
+	That sways the earth this climate overlooks,
+	Before we will lay down our just-borne arms,
+	We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear,
+	Or add a royal number to the dead,
+	Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss
+	With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.
+
+BASTARD	Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers,
+	When the rich blood of kings is set on fire!
+	O, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel;
+	The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs;
+	And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men,
+	In undetermined differences of kings.
+	Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus?
+	Cry, 'havoc!' kings; back to the stained field,
+	You equal potents, fiery kindled spirits!
+	Then let confusion of one part confirm
+	The other's peace: till then, blows, blood and death!
+
+KING JOHN	Whose party do the townsmen yet admit?
+
+KING PHILIP	Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king?
+
+First Citizen	The king of England; when we know the king.
+
+KING PHILIP	Know him in us, that here hold up his right.
+
+KING JOHN	In us, that are our own great deputy
+	And bear possession of our person here,
+	Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you.
+
+First Citizen	A greater power then we denies all this;
+	And till it be undoubted, we do lock
+	Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates;
+	King'd of our fears, until our fears, resolved,
+	Be by some certain king purged and deposed.
+
+BASTARD	By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout you, kings,
+	And stand securely on their battlements,
+	As in a theatre, whence they gape and point
+	At your industrious scenes and acts of death.
+	Your royal presences be ruled by me:
+	Do like the mutines of Jerusalem,
+	Be friends awhile and both conjointly bend
+	Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town:
+	By east and west let France and England mount
+	Their battering cannon charged to the mouths,
+	Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down
+	The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city:
+	I'ld play incessantly upon these jades,
+	Even till unfenced desolation
+	Leave them as naked as the vulgar air.
+	That done, dissever your united strengths,
+	And part your mingled colours once again;
+	Turn face to face and bloody point to point;
+	Then, in a moment, Fortune shall cull forth
+	Out of one side her happy minion,
+	To whom in favour she shall give the day,
+	And kiss him with a glorious victory.
+	How like you this wild counsel, mighty states?
+	Smacks it not something of the policy?
+
+KING JOHN	Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads,
+	I like it well. France, shall we knit our powers
+	And lay this Angiers even to the ground;
+	Then after fight who shall be king of it?
+
+BASTARD	An if thou hast the mettle of a king,
+	Being wronged as we are by this peevish town,
+	Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery,
+	As we will ours, against these saucy walls;
+	And when that we have dash'd them to the ground,
+	Why then defy each other and pell-mell
+	Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell.
+
+KING PHILIP	Let it be so. Say, where will you assault?
+
+KING JOHN	We from the west will send destruction
+	Into this city's bosom.
+
+AUSTRIA	I from the north.
+
+KING PHILIP	                  Our thunder from the south
+	Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.
+
+BASTARD	O prudent discipline! From north to south:
+	Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth:
+	I'll stir them to it. Come, away, away!
+
+First Citizen	Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe awhile to stay,
+	And I shall show you peace and fair-faced league;
+	Win you this city without stroke or wound;
+	Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds,
+	That here come sacrifices for the field:
+	Persever not, but hear me, mighty kings.
+
+KING JOHN	Speak on with favour; we are bent to hear.
+
+First Citizen	That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch,
+	Is niece to England: look upon the years
+	Of Lewis the Dauphin and that lovely maid:
+	If lusty love should go in quest of beauty,
+	Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch?
+	If zealous love should go in search of virtue,
+	Where should he find it purer than in Blanch?
+	If love ambitious sought a match of birth,
+	Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanch?
+	Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth,
+	Is the young Dauphin every way complete:
+	If not complete of, say he is not she;
+	And she again wants nothing, to name want,
+	If want it be not that she is not he:
+	He is the half part of a blessed man,
+	Left to be finished by such as she;
+	And she a fair divided excellence,
+	Whose fulness of perfection lies in him.
+	O, two such silver currents, when they join,
+	Do glorify the banks that bound them in;
+	And two such shores to two such streams made one,
+	Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings,
+	To these two princes, if you marry them.
+	This union shall do more than battery can
+	To our fast-closed gates; for at this match,
+	With swifter spleen than powder can enforce,
+	The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope,
+	And give you entrance: but without this match,
+	The sea enraged is not half so deaf,
+	Lions more confident, mountains and rocks
+	More free from motion, no, not Death himself
+	In moral fury half so peremptory,
+	As we to keep this city.
+
+BASTARD	Here's a stay
+	That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death
+	Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth, indeed,
+	That spits forth death and mountains, rocks and seas,
+	Talks as familiarly of roaring lions
+	As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs!
+	What cannoneer begot this lusty blood?
+	He speaks plain cannon fire, and smoke and bounce;
+	He gives the bastinado with his tongue:
+	Our ears are cudgell'd; not a word of his
+	But buffets better than a fist of France:
+	Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words
+	Since I first call'd my brother's father dad.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	Son, list to this conjunction, make this match;
+	Give with our niece a dowry large enough:
+	For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie
+	Thy now unsured assurance to the crown,
+	That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe
+	The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit.
+	I see a yielding in the looks of France;
+	Mark, how they whisper: urge them while their souls
+	Are capable of this ambition,
+	Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath
+	Of soft petitions, pity and remorse,
+	Cool and congeal again to what it was.
+
+First Citizen	Why answer not the double majesties
+	This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town?
+
+KING PHILIP	Speak England first, that hath been forward first
+	To speak unto this city: what say you?
+
+KING JOHN	If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son,
+	Can in this book of beauty read 'I love,'
+	Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen:
+	For Anjou and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers,
+	And all that we upon this side the sea,
+	Except this city now by us besieged,
+	Find liable to our crown and dignity,
+	Shall gild her bridal bed and make her rich
+	In titles, honours and promotions,
+	As she in beauty, education, blood,
+	Holds hand with any princess of the world.
+
+KING PHILIP	What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's face.
+
+LEWIS	I do, my lord; and in her eye I find
+	A wonder, or a wondrous miracle,
+	The shadow of myself form'd in her eye:
+	Which being but the shadow of your son,
+	Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow:
+	I do protest I never loved myself
+	Till now infixed I beheld myself
+	Drawn in the flattering table of her eye.
+
+	[Whispers with BLANCH]
+
+BASTARD	Drawn in the flattering table of her eye!
+	Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow!
+	And quarter'd in her heart! he doth espy
+	Himself love's traitor: this is pity now,
+	That hang'd and drawn and quartered, there should be
+	In such a love so vile a lout as he.
+
+BLANCH	My uncle's will in this respect is mine:
+	If he see aught in you that makes him like,
+	That any thing he sees, which moves his liking,
+	I can with ease translate it to my will;
+	Or if you will, to speak more properly,
+	I will enforce it easily to my love.
+	Further I will not flatter you, my lord,
+	That all I see in you is worthy love,
+	Than this; that nothing do I see in you,
+	Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your judge,
+	That I can find should merit any hate.
+
+KING JOHN	What say these young ones? What say you my niece?
+
+BLANCH	That she is bound in honour still to do
+	What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to say.
+
+KING JOHN	Speak then, prince Dauphin; can you love this lady?
+
+LEWIS	Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love;
+	For I do love her most unfeignedly.
+
+KING JOHN	Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine,
+	Poictiers and Anjou, these five provinces,
+	With her to thee; and this addition more,
+	Full thirty thousand marks of English coin.
+	Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal,
+	Command thy son and daughter to join hands.
+
+KING PHILIP	It likes us well; young princes, close your hands.
+
+AUSTRIA	And your lips too; for I am well assured
+	That I did so when I was first assured.
+
+KING PHILIP	Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,
+	Let in that amity which you have made;
+	For at Saint Mary's chapel presently
+	The rites of marriage shall be solemnized.
+	Is not the Lady Constance in this troop?
+	I know she is not, for this match made up
+	Her presence would have interrupted much:
+	Where is she and her son? tell me, who knows.
+
+LEWIS	She is sad and passionate at your highness' tent.
+
+KING PHILIP	And, by my faith, this league that we have made
+	Will give her sadness very little cure.
+	Brother of England, how may we content
+	This widow lady? In her right we came;
+	Which we, God knows, have turn'd another way,
+	To our own vantage.
+
+KING JOHN	We will heal up all;
+	For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Bretagne
+	And Earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town
+	We make him lord of. Call the Lady Constance;
+	Some speedy messenger bid her repair
+	To our solemnity: I trust we shall,
+	If not fill up the measure of her will,
+	Yet in some measure satisfy her so
+	That we shall stop her exclamation.
+	Go we, as well as haste will suffer us,
+	To this unlook'd for, unprepared pomp.
+
+	[Exeunt all but the BASTARD]
+
+BASTARD	Mad world! mad kings! mad composition!
+	John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole,
+	Hath willingly departed with a part,
+	And France, whose armour conscience buckled on,
+	Whom zeal and charity brought to the field
+	As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear
+	With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil,
+	That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith,
+	That daily break-vow, he that wins of all,
+	Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,
+	Who, having no external thing to lose
+	But the word 'maid,' cheats the poor maid of that,
+	That smooth-faced gentleman, tickling Commodity,
+	Commodity, the bias of the world,
+	The world, who of itself is peised well,
+	Made to run even upon even ground,
+	Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias,
+	This sway of motion, this Commodity,
+	Makes it take head from all indifferency,
+	From all direction, purpose, course, intent:
+	And this same bias, this Commodity,
+	This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word,
+	Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France,
+	Hath drawn him from his own determined aid,
+	From a resolved and honourable war,
+	To a most base and vile-concluded peace.
+	And why rail I on this Commodity?
+	But for because he hath not woo'd me yet:
+	Not that I have the power to clutch my hand,
+	When his fair angels would salute my palm;
+	But for my hand, as unattempted yet,
+	Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich.
+	Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail
+	And say there is no sin but to be rich;
+	And being rich, my virtue then shall be
+	To say there is no vice but beggary.
+	Since kings break faith upon commodity,
+	Gain, be my lord, for I will worship thee.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The French King's pavilion.
+
+
+	[Enter CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and SALISBURY]
+
+CONSTANCE	Gone to be married! gone to swear a peace!
+	False blood to false blood join'd! gone to be friends!
+	Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those provinces?
+	It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard:
+	Be well advised, tell o'er thy tale again:
+	It cannot be; thou dost but say 'tis so:
+	I trust I may not trust thee; for thy word
+	Is but the vain breath of a common man:
+	Believe me, I do not believe thee, man;
+	I have a king's oath to the contrary.
+	Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me,
+	For I am sick and capable of fears,
+	Oppress'd with wrongs and therefore full of fears,
+	A widow, husbandless, subject to fears,
+	A woman, naturally born to fears;
+	And though thou now confess thou didst but jest,
+	With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce,
+	But they will quake and tremble all this day.
+	What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?
+	Why dost thou look so sadly on my son?
+	What means that hand upon that breast of thine?
+	Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
+	Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds?
+	Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words?
+	Then speak again; not all thy former tale,
+	But this one word, whether thy tale be true.
+
+SALISBURY	As true as I believe you think them false
+	That give you cause to prove my saying true.
+
+CONSTANCE	O, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow,
+	Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die,
+	And let belief and life encounter so
+	As doth the fury of two desperate men
+	Which in the very meeting fall and die.
+	Lewis marry Blanch! O boy, then where art thou?
+	France friend with England, what becomes of me?
+	Fellow, be gone: I cannot brook thy sight:
+	This news hath made thee a most ugly man.
+
+SALISBURY	What other harm have I, good lady, done,
+	But spoke the harm that is by others done?
+
+CONSTANCE	Which harm within itself so heinous is
+	As it makes harmful all that speak of it.
+
+ARTHUR	I do beseech you, madam, be content.
+
+CONSTANCE	If thou, that bid'st me be content, wert grim,
+	Ugly and slanderous to thy mother's womb,
+	Full of unpleasing blots and sightless stains,
+	Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious,
+	Patch'd with foul moles and eye-offending marks,
+	I would not care, I then would be content,
+	For then I should not love thee, no, nor thou
+	Become thy great birth nor deserve a crown.
+	But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy,
+	Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great:
+	Of Nature's gifts thou mayst with lilies boast,
+	And with the half-blown rose. But Fortune, O,
+	She is corrupted, changed and won from thee;
+	She adulterates hourly with thine uncle John,
+	And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on France
+	To tread down fair respect of sovereignty,
+	And made his majesty the bawd to theirs.
+	France is a bawd to Fortune and King John,
+	That strumpet Fortune, that usurping John!
+	Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn?
+	Envenom him with words, or get thee gone
+	And leave those woes alone which I alone
+	Am bound to under-bear.
+
+SALISBURY	Pardon me, madam,
+	I may not go without you to the kings.
+
+CONSTANCE	Thou mayst, thou shalt; I will not go with thee:
+	I will instruct my sorrows to be proud;
+	For grief is proud and makes his owner stoop.
+	To me and to the state of my great grief
+	Let kings assemble; for my grief's so great
+	That no supporter but the huge firm earth
+	Can hold it up: here I and sorrows sit;
+	Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.
+
+	[Seats herself on the ground]
+
+	[Enter KING JOHN, KING PHILLIP, LEWIS, BLANCH,
+	QUEEN ELINOR, the BASTARD, AUSTRIA, and Attendants]
+
+KING PHILIP	'Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed day
+	Ever in France shall be kept festival:
+	To solemnize this day the glorious sun
+	Stays in his course and plays the alchemist,
+	Turning with splendor of his precious eye
+	The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold:
+	The yearly course that brings this day about
+	Shall never see it but a holiday.
+
+CONSTANCE	A wicked day, and not a holy day!
+
+	[Rising]
+
+	What hath this day deserved? what hath it done,
+	That it in golden letters should be set
+	Among the high tides in the calendar?
+	Nay, rather turn this day out of the week,
+	This day of shame, oppression, perjury.
+	Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child
+	Pray that their burthens may not fall this day,
+	Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross'd:
+	But on this day let seamen fear no wreck;
+	No bargains break that are not this day made:
+	This day, all things begun come to ill end,
+	Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change!
+
+KING PHILIP	By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause
+	To curse the fair proceedings of this day:
+	Have I not pawn'd to you my majesty?
+
+CONSTANCE	You have beguiled me with a counterfeit
+	Resembling majesty, which, being touch'd and tried,
+	Proves valueless: you are forsworn, forsworn;
+	You came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood,
+	But now in arms you strengthen it with yours:
+	The grappling vigour and rough frown of war
+	Is cold in amity and painted peace,
+	And our oppression hath made up this league.
+	Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjured kings!
+	A widow cries; be husband to me, heavens!
+	Let not the hours of this ungodly day
+	Wear out the day in peace; but, ere sunset,
+	Set armed discord 'twixt these perjured kings!
+	Hear me, O, hear me!
+
+AUSTRIA	Lady Constance, peace!
+
+CONSTANCE	War! war! no peace! peace is to me a war
+	O Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost shame
+	That bloody spoil: thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward!
+	Thou little valiant, great in villany!
+	Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!
+	Thou Fortune's champion that dost never fight
+	But when her humorous ladyship is by
+	To teach thee safety! thou art perjured too,
+	And soothest up greatness. What a fool art thou,
+	A ramping fool, to brag and stamp and swear
+	Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave,
+	Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side,
+	Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend
+	Upon thy stars, thy fortune and thy strength,
+	And dost thou now fall over to my fores?
+	Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame,
+	And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
+
+AUSTRIA	O, that a man should speak those words to me!
+
+BASTARD	And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
+
+AUSTRIA	Thou darest not say so, villain, for thy life.
+
+BASTARD	And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
+
+KING JOHN	We like not this; thou dost forget thyself.
+
+	[Enter CARDINAL PANDULPH]
+
+KING PHILIP	Here comes the holy legate of the pope.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven!
+	To thee, King John, my holy errand is.
+	I Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal,
+	And from Pope Innocent the legate here,
+	Do in his name religiously demand
+	Why thou against the church, our holy mother,
+	So wilfully dost spurn; and force perforce
+	Keep Stephen Langton, chosen archbishop
+	Of Canterbury, from that holy see?
+	This, in our foresaid holy father's name,
+	Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.
+
+KING JOHN	What earthy name to interrogatories
+	Can task the free breath of a sacred king?
+	Thou canst not, cardinal, devise a name
+	So slight, unworthy and ridiculous,
+	To charge me to an answer, as the pope.
+	Tell him this tale; and from the mouth of England
+	Add thus much more, that no Italian priest
+	Shall tithe or toll in our dominions;
+	But as we, under heaven, are supreme head,
+	So under Him that great supremacy,
+	Where we do reign, we will alone uphold,
+	Without the assistance of a mortal hand:
+	So tell the pope, all reverence set apart
+	To him and his usurp'd authority.
+
+KING PHILIP	Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.
+
+KING JOHN	Though you and all the kings of Christendom
+	Are led so grossly by this meddling priest,
+	Dreading the curse that money may buy out;
+	And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust,
+	Purchase corrupted pardon of a man,
+	Who in that sale sells pardon from himself,
+	Though you and all the rest so grossly led
+	This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish,
+	Yet I alone, alone do me oppose
+	Against the pope and count his friends my foes.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	Then, by the lawful power that I have,
+	Thou shalt stand cursed and excommunicate.
+	And blessed shall he be that doth revolt
+	From his allegiance to an heretic;
+	And meritorious shall that hand be call'd,
+	Canonized and worshipped as a saint,
+	That takes away by any secret course
+	Thy hateful life.
+
+CONSTANCE	                  O, lawful let it be
+	That I have room with Rome to curse awhile!
+	Good father cardinal, cry thou amen
+	To my keen curses; for without my wrong
+	There is no tongue hath power to curse him right.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	There's law and warrant, lady, for my curse.
+
+CONSTANCE	And for mine too: when law can do no right,
+	Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong:
+	Law cannot give my child his kingdom here,
+	For he that holds his kingdom holds the law;
+	Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong,
+	How can the law forbid my tongue to curse?
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	Philip of France, on peril of a curse,
+	Let go the hand of that arch-heretic;
+	And raise the power of France upon his head,
+	Unless he do submit himself to Rome.
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	Look'st thou pale, France? do not let go thy hand.
+
+CONSTANCE	Look to that, devil; lest that France repent,
+	And by disjoining hands, hell lose a soul.
+
+AUSTRIA	King Philip, listen to the cardinal.
+
+BASTARD	And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs.
+
+AUSTRIA	Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs, Because--
+
+BASTARD	        Your breeches best may carry them.
+
+KING JOHN	Philip, what say'st thou to the cardinal?
+
+CONSTANCE	What should he say, but as the cardinal?
+
+LEWIS	Bethink you, father; for the difference
+	Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome,
+	Or the light loss of England for a friend:
+	Forego the easier.
+
+BLANCH	                  That's the curse of Rome.
+
+CONSTANCE	O Lewis, stand fast! the devil tempts thee here
+	In likeness of a new untrimmed bride.
+
+BLANCH	The Lady Constance speaks not from her faith,
+	But from her need.
+
+CONSTANCE	                  O, if thou grant my need,
+	Which only lives but by the death of faith,
+	That need must needs infer this principle,
+	That faith would live again by death of need.
+	O then, tread down my need, and faith mounts up;
+	Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down!
+
+KING JOHN	The king is moved, and answers not to this.
+
+CONSTANCE	O, be removed from him, and answer well!
+
+AUSTRIA	Do so, King Philip; hang no more in doubt.
+
+BASTARD	Hang nothing but a calf's-skin, most sweet lout.
+
+KING PHILIP	I am perplex'd, and know not what to say.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	What canst thou say but will perplex thee more,
+	If thou stand excommunicate and cursed?
+
+KING PHILIP	Good reverend father, make my person yours,
+	And tell me how you would bestow yourself.
+	This royal hand and mine are newly knit,
+	And the conjunction of our inward souls
+	Married in league, coupled and linked together
+	With all religious strength of sacred vows;
+	The latest breath that gave the sound of words
+	Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love
+	Between our kingdoms and our royal selves,
+	And even before this truce, but new before,
+	No longer than we well could wash our hands
+	To clap this royal bargain up of peace,
+	Heaven knows, they were besmear'd and over-stain'd
+	With slaughter's pencil, where revenge did paint
+	The fearful difference of incensed kings:
+	And shall these hands, so lately purged of blood,
+	So newly join'd in love, so strong in both,
+	Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet?
+	Play fast and loose with faith? so jest with heaven,
+	Make such unconstant children of ourselves,
+	As now again to snatch our palm from palm,
+	Unswear faith sworn, and on the marriage-bed
+	Of smiling peace to march a bloody host,
+	And make a riot on the gentle brow
+	Of true sincerity? O, holy sir,
+	My reverend father, let it not be so!
+	Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose
+	Some gentle order; and then we shall be blest
+	To do your pleasure and continue friends.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	All form is formless, order orderless,
+	Save what is opposite to England's love.
+	Therefore to arms! be champion of our church,
+	Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse,
+	A mother's curse, on her revolting son.
+	France, thou mayst hold a serpent by the tongue,
+	A chafed lion by the mortal paw,
+	A fasting tiger safer by the tooth,
+	Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold.
+
+KING PHILIP	I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	So makest thou faith an enemy to faith;
+	And like a civil war set'st oath to oath,
+	Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow
+	First made to heaven, first be to heaven perform'd,
+	That is, to be the champion of our church!
+	What since thou sworest is sworn against thyself
+	And may not be performed by thyself,
+	For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss
+	Is not amiss when it is truly done,
+	And being not done, where doing tends to ill,
+	The truth is then most done not doing it:
+	The better act of purposes mistook
+	Is to mistake again; though indirect,
+	Yet indirection thereby grows direct,
+	And falsehood falsehood cures, as fire cools fire
+	Within the scorched veins of one new-burn'd.
+	It is religion that doth make vows kept;
+	But thou hast sworn against religion,
+	By what thou swear'st against the thing thou swear'st,
+	And makest an oath the surety for thy truth
+	Against an oath: the truth thou art unsure
+	To swear, swears only not to be forsworn;
+	Else what a mockery should it be to swear!
+	But thou dost swear only to be forsworn;
+	And most forsworn, to keep what thou dost swear.
+	Therefore thy later vows against thy first
+	Is in thyself rebellion to thyself;
+	And better conquest never canst thou make
+	Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts
+	Against these giddy loose suggestions:
+	Upon which better part our prayers come in,
+	If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know
+	The peril of our curses light on thee
+	So heavy as thou shalt not shake them off,
+	But in despair die under their black weight.
+
+AUSTRIA	Rebellion, flat rebellion!
+
+BASTARD	Will't not be?
+	Will not a calfs-skin stop that mouth of thine?
+
+LEWIS	Father, to arms!
+
+BLANCH	                  Upon thy wedding-day?
+	Against the blood that thou hast married?
+	What, shall our feast be kept with slaughter'd men?
+	Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums,
+	Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp?
+	O husband, hear me! ay, alack, how new
+	Is husband in my mouth! even for that name,
+	Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce,
+	Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms
+	Against mine uncle.
+
+CONSTANCE	O, upon my knee,
+	Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
+	Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom
+	Forethought by heaven!
+
+BLANCH	Now shall I see thy love: what motive may
+	Be stronger with thee than the name of wife?
+
+CONSTANCE	That which upholdeth him that thee upholds,
+	His honour: O, thine honour, Lewis, thine honour!
+
+LEWIS	I muse your majesty doth seem so cold,
+	When such profound respects do pull you on.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	I will denounce a curse upon his head.
+
+KING PHILIP	Thou shalt not need. England, I will fall from thee.
+
+CONSTANCE	O fair return of banish'd majesty!
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	O foul revolt of French inconstancy!
+
+KING JOHN	France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour.
+
+BASTARD	Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton Time,
+	Is it as he will? well then, France shall rue.
+
+BLANCH	The sun's o'ercast with blood: fair day, adieu!
+	Which is the side that I must go withal?
+	I am with both: each army hath a hand;
+	And in their rage, I having hold of both,
+	They swirl asunder and dismember me.
+	Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win;
+	Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose;
+	Father, I may not wish the fortune thine;
+	Grandam, I will not wish thy fortunes thrive:
+	Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose
+	Assured loss before the match be play'd.
+
+LEWIS	Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies.
+
+BLANCH	There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.
+
+KING JOHN	Cousin, go draw our puissance together.
+
+	[Exit BASTARD]
+
+	France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath;
+	A rage whose heat hath this condition,
+	That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,
+	The blood, and dearest-valued blood, of France.
+
+KING PHILIP	Thy rage sham burn thee up, and thou shalt turn
+	To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire:
+	Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.
+
+KING JOHN	No more than he that threats. To arms let's hie!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. Plains near Angiers.
+
+
+	[Alarums, excursions. Enter the BASTARD, with
+	AUSTRIA'S head]
+
+BASTARD	Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot;
+	Some airy devil hovers in the sky
+	And pours down mischief. Austria's head lie there,
+	While Philip breathes.
+
+	[Enter KING JOHN, ARTHUR, and HUBERT]
+
+KING JOHN	Hubert, keep this boy. Philip, make up:
+	My mother is assailed in our tent,
+	And ta'en, I fear.
+
+BASTARD	                  My lord, I rescued her;
+	Her highness is in safety, fear you not:
+	But on, my liege; for very little pains
+	Will bring this labour to an happy end.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same.
+
+
+	[Alarums, excursions, retreat. Enter KING JOHN,
+	QUEEN ELINOR, ARTHUR, the BASTARD, HUBERT,
+	and Lords]
+
+KING JOHN	[To QUEEN ELINOR]  So shall it be; your grace shall
+	stay behind
+	So strongly guarded.
+
+	[To ARTHUR]
+
+		Cousin, look not sad:
+	Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will
+	As dear be to thee as thy father was.
+
+ARTHUR	O, this will make my mother die with grief!
+
+KING JOHN	[To the BASTARD]  Cousin, away for England!
+	haste before:
+	And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags
+	Of hoarding abbots; imprisoned angels
+	Set at liberty: the fat ribs of peace
+	Must by the hungry now be fed upon:
+	Use our commission in his utmost force.
+
+BASTARD	Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back,
+	When gold and silver becks me to come on.
+	I leave your highness. Grandam, I will pray,
+	If ever I remember to be holy,
+	For your fair safety; so, I kiss your hand.
+
+ELINOR	Farewell, gentle cousin.
+
+KING JOHN	Coz, farewell.
+
+	[Exit the BASTARD]
+
+QUEEN ELINOR	Come hither, little kinsman; hark, a word.
+
+KING JOHN	Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,
+	We owe thee much! within this wall of flesh
+	There is a soul counts thee her creditor
+	And with advantage means to pay thy love:
+	And my good friend, thy voluntary oath
+	Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
+	Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say,
+	But I will fit it with some better time.
+	By heaven, Hubert, I am almost ashamed
+	To say what good respect I have of thee.
+
+HUBERT	I am much bounden to your majesty.
+
+KING JOHN	Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet,
+	But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so slow,
+	Yet it shall come from me to do thee good.
+	I had a thing to say, but let it go:
+	The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day,
+	Attended with the pleasures of the world,
+	Is all too wanton and too full of gawds
+	To give me audience: if the midnight bell
+	Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth,
+	Sound on into the drowsy race of night;
+	If this same were a churchyard where we stand,
+	And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs,
+	Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,
+	Had baked thy blood and made it heavy-thick,
+	Which else runs tickling up and down the veins,
+	Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes
+	And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,
+	A passion hateful to my purposes,
+	Or if that thou couldst see me without eyes,
+	Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
+	Without a tongue, using conceit alone,
+	Without eyes, ears and harmful sound of words;
+	Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,
+	I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts:
+	But, ah, I will not! yet I love thee well;
+	And, by my troth, I think thou lovest me well.
+
+HUBERT	So well, that what you bid me undertake,
+	Though that my death were adjunct to my act,
+	By heaven, I would do it.
+
+KING JOHN	Do not I know thou wouldst?
+	Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye
+	On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend,
+	He is a very serpent in my way;
+	And whereso'er this foot of mine doth tread,
+	He lies before me: dost thou understand me?
+	Thou art his keeper.
+
+HUBERT	And I'll keep him so,
+	That he shall not offend your majesty.
+
+KING JOHN	Death.
+
+HUBERT	My lord?
+
+KING JOHN	       A grave.
+
+HUBERT	                  He shall not live.
+
+KING JOHN	Enough.
+	I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee;
+	Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee:
+	Remember. Madam, fare you well:
+	I'll send those powers o'er to your majesty.
+
+ELINOR	My blessing go with thee!
+
+KING JOHN	For England, cousin, go:
+	Hubert shall be your man, attend on you
+	With all true duty. On toward Calais, ho!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The same. KING PHILIP'S tent.
+
+
+	[Enter KING PHILIP, LEWIS, CARDINAL PANDULPH,
+	and Attendants]
+
+KING PHILIP	So, by a roaring tempest on the flood,
+	A whole armado of convicted sail
+	Is scatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	Courage and comfort! all shall yet go well.
+
+KING PHILIP	What can go well, when we have run so ill?
+	Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost?
+	Arthur ta'en prisoner? divers dear friends slain?
+	And bloody England into England gone,
+	O'erbearing interruption, spite of France?
+
+LEWIS	What he hath won, that hath he fortified:
+	So hot a speed with such advice disposed,
+	Such temperate order in so fierce a cause,
+	Doth want example: who hath read or heard
+	Of any kindred action like to this?
+
+KING PHILIP	Well could I bear that England had this praise,
+	So we could find some pattern of our shame.
+
+	[Enter CONSTANCE]
+
+	Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul;
+	Holding the eternal spirit against her will,
+	In the vile prison of afflicted breath.
+	I prithee, lady, go away with me.
+
+CONSTANCE	Lo, now I now see the issue of your peace.
+
+KING PHILIP	Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Constance!
+
+CONSTANCE	No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
+	But that which ends all counsel, true redress,
+	Death, death; O amiable lovely death!
+	Thou odouriferous stench! sound rottenness!
+	Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,
+	Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
+	And I will kiss thy detestable bones
+	And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows
+	And ring these fingers with thy household worms
+	And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust
+	And be a carrion monster like thyself:
+	Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smilest
+	And buss thee as thy wife. Misery's love,
+	O, come to me!
+
+KING PHILIP	                  O fair affliction, peace!
+
+CONSTANCE	No, no, I will not, having breath to cry:
+	O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth!
+	Then with a passion would I shake the world;
+	And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy
+	Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice,
+	Which scorns a modern invocation.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow.
+
+CONSTANCE	Thou art not holy to belie me so;
+	I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine;
+	My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife;
+	Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost:
+	I am not mad: I would to heaven I were!
+	For then, 'tis like I should forget myself:
+	O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
+	Preach some philosophy to make me mad,
+	And thou shalt be canonized, cardinal;
+	For being not mad but sensible of grief,
+	My reasonable part produces reason
+	How I may be deliver'd of these woes,
+	And teaches me to kill or hang myself:
+	If I were mad, I should forget my son,
+	Or madly think a babe of clouts were he:
+	I am not mad; too well, too well I feel
+	The different plague of each calamity.
+
+KING PHILIP	Bind up those tresses. O, what love I note
+	In the fair multitude of those her hairs!
+	Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen,
+	Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends
+	Do glue themselves in sociable grief,
+	Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,
+	Sticking together in calamity.
+
+CONSTANCE	To England, if you will.
+
+KING PHILIP	Bind up your hairs.
+
+CONSTANCE	Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it?
+	I tore them from their bonds and cried aloud
+	'O that these hands could so redeem my son,
+	As they have given these hairs their liberty!'
+	But now I envy at their liberty,
+	And will again commit them to their bonds,
+	Because my poor child is a prisoner.
+	And, father cardinal, I have heard you say
+	That we shall see and know our friends in heaven:
+	If that be true, I shall see my boy again;
+	For since the birth of Cain, the first male child,
+	To him that did but yesterday suspire,
+	There was not such a gracious creature born.
+	But now will canker-sorrow eat my bud
+	And chase the native beauty from his cheek
+	And he will look as hollow as a ghost,
+	As dim and meagre as an ague's fit,
+	And so he'll die; and, rising so again,
+	When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
+	I shall not know him: therefore never, never
+	Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
+
+CONSTANCE	He talks to me that never had a son.
+
+KING PHILIP	You are as fond of grief as of your child.
+
+CONSTANCE	Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
+	Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
+	Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
+	Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
+	Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
+	Then, have I reason to be fond of grief?
+	Fare you well: had you such a loss as I,
+	I could give better comfort than you do.
+	I will not keep this form upon my head,
+	When there is such disorder in my wit.
+	O Lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son!
+	My life, my joy, my food, my all the world!
+	My widow-comfort, and my sorrows' cure!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING PHILIP	I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LEWIS	There's nothing in this world can make me joy:
+	Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale
+	Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;
+	And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste
+	That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	Before the curing of a strong disease,
+	Even in the instant of repair and health,
+	The fit is strongest; evils that take leave,
+	On their departure most of all show evil:
+	What have you lost by losing of this day?
+
+LEWIS	All days of glory, joy and happiness.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	If you had won it, certainly you had.
+	No, no; when Fortune means to men most good,
+	She looks upon them with a threatening eye.
+	'Tis strange to think how much King John hath lost
+	In this which he accounts so clearly won:
+	Are not you grieved that Arthur is his prisoner?
+
+LEWIS	As heartily as he is glad he hath him.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.
+	Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit;
+	For even the breath of what I mean to speak
+	Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub,
+	Out of the path which shall directly lead
+	Thy foot to England's throne; and therefore mark.
+	John hath seized Arthur; and it cannot be
+	That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins,
+	The misplaced John should entertain an hour,
+	One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest.
+	A sceptre snatch'd with an unruly hand
+	Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd;
+	And he that stands upon a slippery place
+	Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up:
+	That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall;
+	So be it, for it cannot be but so.
+
+LEWIS	But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall?
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	You, in the right of Lady Blanch your wife,
+	May then make all the claim that Arthur did.
+
+LEWIS	And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	How green you are and fresh in this old world!
+	John lays you plots; the times conspire with you;
+	For he that steeps his safety in true blood
+	Shall find but bloody safety and untrue.
+	This act so evilly born shall cool the hearts
+	Of all his people and freeze up their zeal,
+	That none so small advantage shall step forth
+	To cheque his reign, but they will cherish it;
+	No natural exhalation in the sky,
+	No scope of nature, no distemper'd day,
+	No common wind, no customed event,
+	But they will pluck away his natural cause
+	And call them meteors, prodigies and signs,
+	Abortives, presages and tongues of heaven,
+	Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.
+
+LEWIS	May be he will not touch young Arthur's life,
+	But hold himself safe in his prisonment.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach,
+	If that young Arthur be not gone already,
+	Even at that news he dies; and then the hearts
+	Of all his people shall revolt from him
+	And kiss the lips of unacquainted change
+	And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath
+	Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John.
+	Methinks I see this hurly all on foot:
+	And, O, what better matter breeds for you
+	Than I have named! The bastard Faulconbridge
+	Is now in England, ransacking the church,
+	Offending charity: if but a dozen French
+	Were there in arms, they would be as a call
+	To train ten thousand English to their side,
+	Or as a little snow, tumbled about,
+	Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dauphin,
+	Go with me to the king: 'tis wonderful
+	What may be wrought out of their discontent,
+	Now that their souls are topful of offence.
+	For England go: I will whet on the king.
+
+LEWIS	Strong reasons make strong actions: let us go:
+	If you say ay, the king will not say no.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A room in a castle.
+
+
+	[Enter HUBERT and Executioners]
+
+HUBERT	Heat me these irons hot; and look thou stand
+	Within the arras: when I strike my foot
+	Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth,
+	And bind the boy which you shall find with me
+	Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch.
+
+First Executioner	I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.
+
+HUBERT	Uncleanly scruples! fear not you: look to't.
+
+	[Exeunt Executioners]
+
+	Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you.
+
+	[Enter ARTHUR]
+
+ARTHUR	Good morrow, Hubert.
+
+HUBERT	Good morrow, little prince.
+
+ARTHUR	As little prince, having so great a title
+	To be more prince, as may be. You are sad.
+
+HUBERT	Indeed, I have been merrier.
+
+ARTHUR	Mercy on me!
+	Methinks no body should be sad but I:
+	Yet, I remember, when I was in France,
+	Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
+	Only for wantonness. By my christendom,
+	So I were out of prison and kept sheep,
+	I should be as merry as the day is long;
+	And so I would be here, but that I doubt
+	My uncle practises more harm to me:
+	He is afraid of me and I of him:
+	Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son?
+	No, indeed, is't not; and I would to heaven
+	I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
+
+HUBERT	[Aside]  If I talk to him, with his innocent prate
+	He will awake my mercy which lies dead:
+	Therefore I will be sudden and dispatch.
+
+ARTHUR	Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day:
+	In sooth, I would you were a little sick,
+	That I might sit all night and watch with you:
+	I warrant I love you more than you do me.
+
+HUBERT	[Aside]  His words do take possession of my bosom.
+	Read here, young Arthur.
+
+	[Showing a paper]
+
+	[Aside]
+
+		   How now, foolish rheum!
+	Turning dispiteous torture out of door!
+	I must be brief, lest resolution drop
+	Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears.
+	Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ?
+
+ARTHUR	Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect:
+	Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
+
+HUBERT	Young boy, I must.
+
+ARTHUR	                  And will you?
+
+HUBERT	And I will.
+
+ARTHUR	Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
+	I knit my handercher about your brows,
+	The best I had, a princess wrought it me,
+	And I did never ask it you again;
+	And with my hand at midnight held your head,
+	And like the watchful minutes to the hour,
+	Still and anon cheer'd up the heavy time,
+	Saying, 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief?'
+	Or 'What good love may I perform for you?'
+	Many a poor man's son would have lien still
+	And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you;
+	But you at your sick service had a prince.
+	Nay, you may think my love was crafty love
+	And call it cunning: do, an if you will:
+	If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill,
+	Why then you must. Will you put out mine eyes?
+	These eyes that never did nor never shall
+	So much as frown on you.
+
+HUBERT	I have sworn to do it;
+	And with hot irons must I burn them out.
+
+ARTHUR	Ah, none but in this iron age would do it!
+	The iron of itself, though heat red-hot,
+	Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears
+	And quench his fiery indignation
+	Even in the matter of mine innocence;
+	Nay, after that, consume away in rust
+	But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
+	Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron?
+	An if an angel should have come to me
+	And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes,
+	I would not have believed him,--no tongue but Hubert's.
+
+HUBERT	Come forth.
+
+	[Stamps]
+
+	[Re-enter Executioners, with a cord, irons, &c]
+
+	Do as I bid you do.
+
+ARTHUR	O, save me, Hubert, save me! my eyes are out
+	Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.
+
+HUBERT	Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here.
+
+ARTHUR	Alas, what need you be so boisterous-rough?
+	I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still.
+	For heaven sake, Hubert, let me not be bound!
+	Nay, hear me, Hubert, drive these men away,
+	And I will sit as quiet as a lamb;
+	I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
+	Nor look upon the iron angerly:
+	Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you,
+	Whatever torment you do put me to.
+
+HUBERT	Go, stand within; let me alone with him.
+
+First Executioner	I am best pleased to be from such a deed.
+
+	[Exeunt Executioners]
+
+ARTHUR	Alas, I then have chid away my friend!
+	He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart:
+	Let him come back, that his compassion may
+	Give life to yours.
+
+HUBERT	Come, boy, prepare yourself.
+
+ARTHUR	Is there no remedy?
+
+HUBERT	None, but to lose your eyes.
+
+ARTHUR	O heaven, that there were but a mote in yours,
+	A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair,
+	Any annoyance in that precious sense!
+	Then feeling what small things are boisterous there,
+	Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.
+
+HUBERT	Is this your promise? go to, hold your tongue.
+
+ARTHUR	Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues
+	Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes:
+	Let me not hold my tongue, let me not, Hubert;
+	Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue,
+	So I may keep mine eyes: O, spare mine eyes.
+	Though to no use but still to look on you!
+	Lo, by my truth, the instrument is cold
+	And would not harm me.
+
+HUBERT	I can heat it, boy.
+
+ARTHUR	No, in good sooth: the fire is dead with grief,
+	Being create for comfort, to be used
+	In undeserved extremes: see else yourself;
+	There is no malice in this burning coal;
+	The breath of heaven has blown his spirit out
+	And strew'd repentent ashes on his head.
+
+HUBERT	But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
+
+ARTHUR	An if you do, you will but make it blush
+	And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert:
+	Nay, it perchance will sparkle in your eyes;
+	And like a dog that is compell'd to fight,
+	Snatch at his master that doth tarre him on.
+	All things that you should use to do me wrong
+	Deny their office: only you do lack
+	That mercy which fierce fire and iron extends,
+	Creatures of note for mercy-lacking uses.
+
+HUBERT	Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eye
+	For all the treasure that thine uncle owes:
+	Yet am I sworn and I did purpose, boy,
+	With this same very iron to burn them out.
+
+ARTHUR	O, now you look like Hubert! all this while
+	You were disguised.
+
+HUBERT	Peace; no more. Adieu.
+	Your uncle must not know but you are dead;
+	I'll fill these dogged spies with false reports:
+	And, pretty child, sleep doubtless and secure,
+	That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world,
+	Will not offend thee.
+
+ARTHUR	O heaven! I thank you, Hubert.
+
+HUBERT	Silence; no more: go closely in with me:
+	Much danger do I undergo for thee.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	KING JOHN'S palace.
+
+
+	[Enter KING JOHN, PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and other Lords]
+
+KING JOHN	Here once again we sit, once again crown'd,
+	And looked upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.
+
+PEMBROKE	This 'once again,' but that your highness pleased,
+	Was once superfluous: you were crown'd before,
+	And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd off,
+	The faiths of men ne'er stained with revolt;
+	Fresh expectation troubled not the land
+	With any long'd-for change or better state.
+
+SALISBURY	Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp,
+	To guard a title that was rich before,
+	To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
+	To throw a perfume on the violet,
+	To smooth the ice, or add another hue
+	Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light
+	To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
+	Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
+
+PEMBROKE	But that your royal pleasure must be done,
+	This act is as an ancient tale new told,
+	And in the last repeating troublesome,
+	Being urged at a time unseasonable.
+
+SALISBURY	In this the antique and well noted face
+	Of plain old form is much disfigured;
+	And, like a shifted wind unto a sail,
+	It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about,
+	Startles and frights consideration,
+	Makes sound opinion sick and truth suspected,
+	For putting on so new a fashion'd robe.
+
+PEMBROKE	When workmen strive to do better than well,
+	They do confound their skill in covetousness;
+	And oftentimes excusing of a fault
+	Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse,
+	As patches set upon a little breach
+	Discredit more in hiding of the fault
+	Than did the fault before it was so patch'd.
+
+SALISBURY	To this effect, before you were new crown'd,
+	We breathed our counsel: but it pleased your highness
+	To overbear it, and we are all well pleased,
+	Since all and every part of what we would
+	Doth make a stand at what your highness will.
+
+KING JOHN	Some reasons of this double coronation
+	I have possess'd you with and think them strong;
+	And more, more strong, then lesser is my fear,
+	I shall indue you with: meantime but ask
+	What you would have reform'd that is not well,
+	And well shall you perceive how willingly
+	I will both hear and grant you your requests.
+
+PEMBROKE	Then I, as one that am the tongue of these,
+	To sound the purpose of all their hearts,
+	Both for myself and them, but, chief of all,
+	Your safety, for the which myself and them
+	Bend their best studies, heartily request
+	The enfranchisement of Arthur; whose restraint
+	Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent
+	To break into this dangerous argument,--
+	If what in rest you have in right you hold,
+	Why then your fears, which, as they say, attend
+	The steps of wrong, should move you to mew up
+	Your tender kinsman and to choke his days
+	With barbarous ignorance and deny his youth
+	The rich advantage of good exercise?
+	That the time's enemies may not have this
+	To grace occasions, let it be our suit
+	That you have bid us ask his liberty;
+	Which for our goods we do no further ask
+	Than whereupon our weal, on you depending,
+	Counts it your weal he have his liberty.
+
+	[Enter HUBERT]
+
+KING JOHN	Let it be so: I do commit his youth
+	To your direction. Hubert, what news with you?
+
+	[Taking him apart]
+
+PEMBROKE	This is the man should do the bloody deed;
+	He show'd his warrant to a friend of mine:
+	The image of a wicked heinous fault
+	Lives in his eye; that close aspect of his
+	Does show the mood of a much troubled breast;
+	And I do fearfully believe 'tis done,
+	What we so fear'd he had a charge to do.
+
+SALISBURY	The colour of the king doth come and go
+	Between his purpose and his conscience,
+	Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set:
+	His passion is so ripe, it needs must break.
+
+PEMBROKE	And when it breaks, I fear will issue thence
+	The foul corruption of a sweet child's death.
+
+KING JOHN	We cannot hold mortality's strong hand:
+	Good lords, although my will to give is living,
+	The suit which you demand is gone and dead:
+	He tells us Arthur is deceased to-night.
+
+SALISBURY	Indeed we fear'd his sickness was past cure.
+
+PEMBROKE	Indeed we heard how near his death he was
+	Before the child himself felt he was sick:
+	This must be answer'd either here or hence.
+
+KING JOHN	Why do you bend such solemn brows on me?
+	Think you I bear the shears of destiny?
+	Have I commandment on the pulse of life?
+
+SALISBURY	It is apparent foul play; and 'tis shame
+	That greatness should so grossly offer it:
+	So thrive it in your game! and so, farewell.
+
+PEMBROKE	Stay yet, Lord Salisbury; I'll go with thee,
+	And find the inheritance of this poor child,
+	His little kingdom of a forced grave.
+	That blood which owed the breadth of all this isle,
+	Three foot of it doth hold: bad world the while!
+	This must not be thus borne: this will break out
+	To all our sorrows, and ere long I doubt.
+
+	[Exeunt Lords]
+
+KING JOHN	They burn in indignation. I repent:
+	There is no sure foundation set on blood,
+	No certain life achieved by others' death.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+	A fearful eye thou hast: where is that blood
+	That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks?
+	So foul a sky clears not without a storm:
+	Pour down thy weather: how goes all in France?
+
+Messenger	From France to England. Never such a power
+	For any foreign preparation
+	Was levied in the body of a land.
+	The copy of your speed is learn'd by them;
+	For when you should be told they do prepare,
+	The tidings come that they are all arrived.
+
+KING JOHN	O, where hath our intelligence been drunk?
+	Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's care,
+	That such an army could be drawn in France,
+	And she not hear of it?
+
+Messenger	My liege, her ear
+	Is stopp'd with dust; the first of April died
+	Your noble mother: and, as I hear, my lord,
+	The Lady Constance in a frenzy died
+	Three days before: but this from rumour's tongue
+	I idly heard; if true or false I know not.
+
+KING JOHN	Withhold thy speed, dreadful occasion!
+	O, make a league with me, till I have pleased
+	My discontented peers! What! mother dead!
+	How wildly then walks my estate in France!
+	Under whose conduct came those powers of France
+	That thou for truth givest out are landed here?
+
+Messenger	Under the Dauphin.
+
+KING JOHN	                  Thou hast made me giddy
+	With these ill tidings.
+
+	[Enter the BASTARD and PETER of Pomfret]
+
+		  Now, what says the world
+	To your proceedings? do not seek to stuff
+	My head with more ill news, for it is full.
+
+BASTARD	But if you be afeard to hear the worst,
+	Then let the worst unheard fall on your bead.
+
+KING JOHN	Bear with me cousin, for I was amazed
+	Under the tide: but now I breathe again
+	Aloft the flood, and can give audience
+	To any tongue, speak it of what it will.
+
+BASTARD	How I have sped among the clergymen,
+	The sums I have collected shall express.
+	But as I travell'd hither through the land,
+	I find the people strangely fantasied;
+	Possess'd with rumours, full of idle dreams,
+	Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear:
+	And here a prophet, that I brought with me
+	From forth the streets of Pomfret, whom I found
+	With many hundreds treading on his heels;
+	To whom he sung, in rude harsh-sounding rhymes,
+	That, ere the next Ascension-day at noon,
+	Your highness should deliver up your crown.
+
+KING JOHN	Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst thou so?
+
+PETER	Foreknowing that the truth will fall out so.
+
+KING JOHN	Hubert, away with him; imprison him;
+	And on that day at noon whereon he says
+	I shall yield up my crown, let him be hang'd.
+	Deliver him to safety; and return,
+	For I must use thee.
+
+	[Exeunt HUBERT with PETER]
+
+		O my gentle cousin,
+	Hear'st thou the news abroad, who are arrived?
+
+BASTARD	The French, my lord; men's mouths are full of it:
+	Besides, I met Lord Bigot and Lord Salisbury,
+	With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire,
+	And others more, going to seek the grave
+	Of Arthur, who they say is kill'd to-night
+	On your suggestion.
+
+KING JOHN	Gentle kinsman, go,
+	And thrust thyself into their companies:
+	I have a way to win their loves again;
+	Bring them before me.
+
+BASTARD	I will seek them out.
+
+KING JOHN	Nay, but make haste; the better foot before.
+	O, let me have no subject enemies,
+	When adverse foreigners affright my towns
+	With dreadful pomp of stout invasion!
+	Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels,
+	And fly like thought from them to me again.
+
+BASTARD	The spirit of the time shall teach me speed.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING JOHN	Spoke like a sprightful noble gentleman.
+	Go after him; for he perhaps shall need
+	Some messenger betwixt me and the peers;
+	And be thou he.
+
+Messenger	                  With all my heart, my liege.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING JOHN	My mother dead!
+
+	[Re-enter HUBERT]
+
+HUBERT	My lord, they say five moons were seen to-night;
+	Four fixed, and the fifth did whirl about
+	The other four in wondrous motion.
+
+KING JOHN	Five moons!
+
+HUBERT	Old men and beldams in the streets
+	Do prophesy upon it dangerously:
+	Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths:
+	And when they talk of him, they shake their heads
+	And whisper one another in the ear;
+	And he that speaks doth gripe the hearer's wrist,
+	Whilst he that hears makes fearful action,
+	With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes.
+	I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,
+	The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,
+	With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news;
+	Who, with his shears and measure in his hand,
+	Standing on slippers, which his nimble haste
+	Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet,
+	Told of a many thousand warlike French
+	That were embattailed and rank'd in Kent:
+	Another lean unwash'd artificer
+	Cuts off his tale and talks of Arthur's death.
+
+KING JOHN	Why seek'st thou to possess me with these fears?
+	Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death?
+	Thy hand hath murder'd him: I had a mighty cause
+	To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill him.
+
+HUBERT	No had, my lord! why, did you not provoke me?
+
+KING JOHN	It is the curse of kings to be attended
+	By slaves that take their humours for a warrant
+	To break within the bloody house of life,
+	And on the winking of authority
+	To understand a law, to know the meaning
+	Of dangerous majesty, when perchance it frowns
+	More upon humour than advised respect.
+
+HUBERT	Here is your hand and seal for what I did.
+
+KING JOHN	O, when the last account 'twixt heaven and earth
+	Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal
+	Witness against us to damnation!
+	How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds
+	Make deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by,
+	A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd,
+	Quoted and sign'd to do a deed of shame,
+	This murder had not come into my mind:
+	But taking note of thy abhorr'd aspect,
+	Finding thee fit for bloody villany,
+	Apt, liable to be employ'd in danger,
+	I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death;
+	And thou, to be endeared to a king,
+	Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
+
+HUBERT	My lord--
+
+KING JOHN	Hadst thou but shook thy head or made a pause
+	When I spake darkly what I purposed,
+	Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face,
+	As bid me tell my tale in express words,
+	Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off,
+	And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me:
+	But thou didst understand me by my signs
+	And didst in signs again parley with sin;
+	Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent,
+	And consequently thy rude hand to act
+	The deed, which both our tongues held vile to name.
+	Out of my sight, and never see me more!
+	My nobles leave me; and my state is braved,
+	Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers:
+	Nay, in the body of this fleshly land,
+	This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
+	Hostility and civil tumult reigns
+	Between my conscience and my cousin's death.
+
+HUBERT	Arm you against your other enemies,
+	I'll make a peace between your soul and you.
+	Young Arthur is alive: this hand of mine
+	Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand,
+	Not painted with the crimson spots of blood.
+	Within this bosom never enter'd yet
+	The dreadful motion of a murderous thought;
+	And you have slander'd nature in my form,
+	Which, howsoever rude exteriorly,
+	Is yet the cover of a fairer mind
+	Than to be butcher of an innocent child.
+
+KING JOHN	Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee to the peers,
+	Throw this report on their incensed rage,
+	And make them tame to their obedience!
+	Forgive the comment that my passion made
+	Upon thy feature; for my rage was blind,
+	And foul imaginary eyes of blood
+	Presented thee more hideous than thou art.
+	O, answer not, but to my closet bring
+	The angry lords with all expedient haste.
+	I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Before the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter ARTHUR, on the walls]
+
+ARTHUR	The wall is high, and yet will I leap down:
+	Good ground, be pitiful and hurt me not!
+	There's few or none do know me: if they did,
+	This ship-boy's semblance hath disguised me quite.
+	I am afraid; and yet I'll venture it.
+	If I get down, and do not break my limbs,
+	I'll find a thousand shifts to get away:
+	As good to die and go, as die and stay.
+
+	[Leaps down]
+
+	O me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones:
+	Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!
+
+	[Dies]
+
+	[Enter PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and BIGOT]
+
+SALISBURY	Lords, I will meet him at Saint Edmundsbury:
+	It is our safety, and we must embrace
+	This gentle offer of the perilous time.
+
+PEMBROKE	Who brought that letter from the cardinal?
+
+SALISBURY	The Count Melun, a noble lord of France,
+	Whose private with me of the Dauphin's love
+	Is much more general than these lines import.
+
+BIGOT	To-morrow morning let us meet him then.
+
+SALISBURY	Or rather then set forward; for 'twill be
+	Two long days' journey, lords, or ere we meet.
+
+	[Enter the BASTARD]
+
+BASTARD	Once more to-day well met, distemper'd lords!
+	The king by me requests your presence straight.
+
+SALISBURY	The king hath dispossess'd himself of us:
+	We will not line his thin bestained cloak
+	With our pure honours, nor attend the foot
+	That leaves the print of blood where'er it walks.
+	Return and tell him so: we know the worst.
+
+BASTARD	Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best.
+
+SALISBURY	Our griefs, and not our manners, reason now.
+
+BASTARD	But there is little reason in your grief;
+	Therefore 'twere reason you had manners now.
+
+PEMBROKE	Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege.
+
+BASTARD	'Tis true, to hurt his master, no man else.
+
+SALISBURY	This is the prison. What is he lies here?
+
+	[Seeing ARTHUR]
+
+PEMBROKE	O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty!
+	The earth had not a hole to hide this deed.
+
+SALISBURY	Murder, as hating what himself hath done,
+	Doth lay it open to urge on revenge.
+
+BIGOT	Or, when he doom'd this beauty to a grave,
+	Found it too precious-princely for a grave.
+
+SALISBURY	Sir Richard, what think you? have you beheld,
+	Or have you read or heard? or could you think?
+	Or do you almost think, although you see,
+	That you do see? could thought, without this object,
+	Form such another? This is the very top,
+	The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest,
+	Of murder's arms: this is the bloodiest shame,
+	The wildest savagery, the vilest stroke,
+	That ever wall-eyed wrath or staring rage
+	Presented to the tears of soft remorse.
+
+PEMBROKE	All murders past do stand excused in this:
+	And this, so sole and so unmatchable,
+	Shall give a holiness, a purity,
+	To the yet unbegotten sin of times;
+	And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest,
+	Exampled by this heinous spectacle.
+
+BASTARD	It is a damned and a bloody work;
+	The graceless action of a heavy hand,
+	If that it be the work of any hand.
+
+SALISBURY	If that it be the work of any hand!
+	We had a kind of light what would ensue:
+	It is the shameful work of Hubert's hand;
+	The practise and the purpose of the king:
+	From whose obedience I forbid my soul,
+	Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life,
+	And breathing to his breathless excellence
+	The incense of a vow, a holy vow,
+	Never to taste the pleasures of the world,
+	Never to be infected with delight,
+	Nor conversant with ease and idleness,
+	Till I have set a glory to this hand,
+	By giving it the worship of revenge.
+
+
+PEMBROKE	|
+	|  Our souls religiously confirm thy words.
+BIGOT	|
+
+
+	[Enter HUBERT]
+
+HUBERT	Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you:
+	Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you.
+
+SALISBURY	O, he is old and blushes not at death.
+	Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone!
+
+HUBERT	I am no villain.
+
+SALISBURY	                  Must I rob the law?
+
+	[Drawing his sword]
+
+BASTARD	Your sword is bright, sir; put it up again.
+
+SALISBURY	Not till I sheathe it in a murderer's skin.
+
+HUBERT	Stand back, Lord Salisbury, stand back, I say;
+	By heaven, I think my sword's as sharp as yours:
+	I would not have you, lord, forget yourself,
+	Nor tempt the danger of my true defence;
+	Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget
+	Your worth, your greatness and nobility.
+
+BIGOT	Out, dunghill! darest thou brave a nobleman?
+
+HUBERT	Not for my life: but yet I dare defend
+	My innocent life against an emperor.
+
+SALISBURY	Thou art a murderer.
+
+HUBERT	Do not prove me so;
+	Yet I am none: whose tongue soe'er speaks false,
+	Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies.
+
+PEMBROKE	Cut him to pieces.
+
+BASTARD	                  Keep the peace, I say.
+
+SALISBURY	Stand by, or I shall gall you, Faulconbridge.
+
+BASTARD	Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury:
+	If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot,
+	Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame,
+	I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime;
+	Or I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron,
+	That you shall think the devil is come from hell.
+
+BIGOT	What wilt thou do, renowned Faulconbridge?
+	Second a villain and a murderer?
+
+HUBERT	Lord Bigot, I am none.
+
+BIGOT	Who kill'd this prince?
+
+HUBERT	'Tis not an hour since I left him well:
+	I honour'd him, I loved him, and will weep
+	My date of life out for his sweet life's loss.
+
+SALISBURY	Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes,
+	For villany is not without such rheum;
+	And he, long traded in it, makes it seem
+	Like rivers of remorse and innocency.
+	Away with me, all you whose souls abhor
+	The uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house;
+	For I am stifled with this smell of sin.
+
+BIGOT	Away toward Bury, to the Dauphin there!
+
+PEMBROKE	There tell the king he may inquire us out.
+
+	[Exeunt Lords]
+
+BASTARD	Here's a good world! Knew you of this fair work?
+	Beyond the infinite and boundless reach
+	Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death,
+	Art thou damn'd, Hubert.
+
+HUBERT	Do but hear me, sir.
+
+BASTARD	Ha! I'll tell thee what;
+	Thou'rt damn'd as black--nay, nothing is so black;
+	Thou art more deep damn'd than Prince Lucifer:
+	There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell
+	As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child.
+
+HUBERT	Upon my soul--
+
+BASTARD	                  If thou didst but consent
+	To this most cruel act, do but despair;
+	And if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread
+	That ever spider twisted from her womb
+	Will serve to strangle thee, a rush will be a beam
+	To hang thee on; or wouldst thou drown thyself,
+	Put but a little water in a spoon,
+	And it shall be as all the ocean,
+	Enough to stifle such a villain up.
+	I do suspect thee very grievously.
+
+HUBERT	If I in act, consent, or sin of thought,
+	Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath
+	Which was embounded in this beauteous clay,
+	Let hell want pains enough to torture me.
+	I left him well.
+
+BASTARD	                  Go, bear him in thine arms.
+	I am amazed, methinks, and lose my way
+	Among the thorns and dangers of this world.
+	How easy dost thou take all England up!
+	From forth this morsel of dead royalty,
+	The life, the right and truth of all this realm
+	Is fled to heaven; and England now is left
+	To tug and scamble and to part by the teeth
+	The unowed interest of proud-swelling state.
+	Now for the bare-pick'd bone of majesty
+	Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest
+	And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace:
+	Now powers from home and discontents at home
+	Meet in one line; and vast confusion waits,
+	As doth a raven on a sick-fall'n beast,
+	The imminent decay of wrested pomp.
+	Now happy he whose cloak and cincture can
+	Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child
+	And follow me with speed: I'll to the king:
+	A thousand businesses are brief in hand,
+	And heaven itself doth frown upon the land.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	KING JOHN'S palace.
+
+
+	[Enter KING JOHN, CARDINAL PANDULPH, and Attendants]
+
+KING JOHN	Thus have I yielded up into your hand
+	The circle of my glory.
+
+	[Giving the crown]
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	Take again
+	From this my hand, as holding of the pope
+	Your sovereign greatness and authority.
+
+KING JOHN	Now keep your holy word: go meet the French,
+	And from his holiness use all your power
+	To stop their marches 'fore we are inflamed.
+	Our discontented counties do revolt;
+	Our people quarrel with obedience,
+	Swearing allegiance and the love of soul
+	To stranger blood, to foreign royalty.
+	This inundation of mistemper'd humour
+	Rests by you only to be qualified:
+	Then pause not; for the present time's so sick,
+	That present medicine must be minister'd,
+	Or overthrow incurable ensues.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	It was my breath that blew this tempest up,
+	Upon your stubborn usage of the pope;
+	But since you are a gentle convertite,
+	My tongue shall hush again this storm of war
+	And make fair weather in your blustering land.
+	On this Ascension-day, remember well,
+	Upon your oath of service to the pope,
+	Go I to make the French lay down their arms.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING JOHN	Is this Ascension-day? Did not the prophet
+	Say that before Ascension-day at noon
+	My crown I should give off? Even so I have:
+	I did suppose it should be on constraint:
+	But, heaven be thank'd, it is but voluntary.
+
+	[Enter the BASTARD]
+
+BASTARD	All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds out
+	But Dover castle: London hath received,
+	Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers:
+	Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone
+	To offer service to your enemy,
+	And wild amazement hurries up and down
+	The little number of your doubtful friends.
+
+KING JOHN	Would not my lords return to me again,
+	After they heard young Arthur was alive?
+
+BASTARD	They found him dead and cast into the streets,
+	An empty casket, where the jewel of life
+	By some damn'd hand was robb'd and ta'en away.
+
+KING JOHN	That villain Hubert told me he did live.
+
+BASTARD	So, on my soul, he did, for aught he knew.
+	But wherefore do you droop? why look you sad?
+	Be great in act, as you have been in thought;
+	Let not the world see fear and sad distrust
+	Govern the motion of a kingly eye:
+	Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire;
+	Threaten the threatener and outface the brow
+	Of bragging horror: so shall inferior eyes,
+	That borrow their behaviors from the great,
+	Grow great by your example and put on
+	The dauntless spirit of resolution.
+	Away, and glister like the god of war,
+	When he intendeth to become the field:
+	Show boldness and aspiring confidence.
+	What, shall they seek the lion in his den,
+	And fright him there? and make him tremble there?
+	O, let it not be said: forage, and run
+	To meet displeasure farther from the doors,
+	And grapple with him ere he comes so nigh.
+
+KING JOHN	The legate of the pope hath been with me,
+	And I have made a happy peace with him;
+	And he hath promised to dismiss the powers
+	Led by the Dauphin.
+
+BASTARD	O inglorious league!
+	Shall we, upon the footing of our land,
+	Send fair-play orders and make compromise,
+	Insinuation, parley and base truce
+	To arms invasive? shall a beardless boy,
+	A cocker'd silken wanton, brave our fields,
+	And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil,
+	Mocking the air with colours idly spread,
+	And find no cheque? Let us, my liege, to arms:
+	Perchance the cardinal cannot make your peace;
+	Or if he do, let it at least be said
+	They saw we had a purpose of defence.
+
+KING JOHN	Have thou the ordering of this present time.
+
+BASTARD	Away, then, with good courage! yet, I know,
+	Our party may well meet a prouder foe.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	LEWIS's camp at St. Edmundsbury.
+
+
+	[Enter, in arms, LEWIS, SALISBURY, MELUN, PEMBROKE,
+	BIGOT, and Soldiers]
+
+LEWIS	My Lord Melun, let this be copied out,
+	And keep it safe for our remembrance:
+	Return the precedent to these lords again;
+	That, having our fair order written down,
+	Both they and we, perusing o'er these notes,
+	May know wherefore we took the sacrament
+	And keep our faiths firm and inviolable.
+
+SALISBURY	Upon our sides it never shall be broken.
+	And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear
+	A voluntary zeal and an unurged faith
+	To your proceedings; yet believe me, prince,
+	I am not glad that such a sore of time
+	Should seek a plaster by contemn'd revolt,
+	And heal the inveterate canker of one wound
+	By making many. O, it grieves my soul,
+	That I must draw this metal from my side
+	To be a widow-maker! O, and there
+	Where honourable rescue and defence
+	Cries out upon the name of Salisbury!
+	But such is the infection of the time,
+	That, for the health and physic of our right,
+	We cannot deal but with the very hand
+	Of stern injustice and confused wrong.
+	And is't not pity, O my grieved friends,
+	That we, the sons and children of this isle,
+	Were born to see so sad an hour as this;
+	Wherein we step after a stranger march
+	Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up
+	Her enemies' ranks,--I must withdraw and weep
+	Upon the spot of this enforced cause,--
+	To grace the gentry of a land remote,
+	And follow unacquainted colours here?
+	What, here? O nation, that thou couldst remove!
+	That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about,
+	Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself,
+	And grapple thee unto a pagan shore;
+	Where these two Christian armies might combine
+	The blood of malice in a vein of league,
+	And not to spend it so unneighbourly!
+
+LEWIS	A noble temper dost thou show in this;
+	And great affections wrestling in thy bosom
+	Doth make an earthquake of nobility.
+	O, what a noble combat hast thou fought
+	Between compulsion and a brave respect!
+	Let me wipe off this honourable dew,
+	That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks:
+	My heart hath melted at a lady's tears,
+	Being an ordinary inundation;
+	But this effusion of such manly drops,
+	This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul,
+	Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amazed
+	Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven
+	Figured quite o'er with burning meteors.
+	Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,
+	And with a great heart heave away the storm:
+	Commend these waters to those baby eyes
+	That never saw the giant world enraged;
+	Nor met with fortune other than at feasts,
+	Full of warm blood, of mirth, of gossiping.
+	Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep
+	Into the purse of rich prosperity
+	As Lewis himself: so, nobles, shall you all,
+	That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.
+	And even there, methinks, an angel spake:
+
+	[Enter CARDINAL PANDULPH]
+
+	Look, where the holy legate comes apace,
+	To give us warrant from the hand of heaven
+	And on our actions set the name of right
+	With holy breath.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	                  Hail, noble prince of France!
+	The next is this, King John hath reconciled
+	Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in,
+	That so stood out against the holy church,
+	The great metropolis and see of Rome:
+	Therefore thy threatening colours now wind up;
+	And tame the savage spirit of wild war,
+	That like a lion foster'd up at hand,
+	It may lie gently at the foot of peace,
+	And be no further harmful than in show.
+
+LEWIS	Your grace shall pardon me, I will not back:
+	I am too high-born to be propertied,
+	To be a secondary at control,
+	Or useful serving-man and instrument,
+	To any sovereign state throughout the world.
+	Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars
+	Between this chastised kingdom and myself,
+	And brought in matter that should feed this fire;
+	And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out
+	With that same weak wind which enkindled it.
+	You taught me how to know the face of right,
+	Acquainted me with interest to this land,
+	Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart;
+	And come ye now to tell me John hath made
+	His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me?
+	I, by the honour of my marriage-bed,
+	After young Arthur, claim this land for mine;
+	And, now it is half-conquer'd, must I back
+	Because that John hath made his peace with Rome?
+	Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome borne,
+	What men provided, what munition sent,
+	To underprop this action? Is't not I
+	That undergo this charge? who else but I,
+	And such as to my claim are liable,
+	Sweat in this business and maintain this war?
+	Have I not heard these islanders shout out
+	'Vive le roi!' as I have bank'd their towns?
+	Have I not here the best cards for the game,
+	To win this easy match play'd for a crown?
+	And shall I now give o'er the yielded set?
+	No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	You look but on the outside of this work.
+
+LEWIS	Outside or inside, I will not return
+	Till my attempt so much be glorified
+	As to my ample hope was promised
+	Before I drew this gallant head of war,
+	And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world,
+	To outlook conquest and to win renown
+	Even in the jaws of danger and of death.
+
+	[Trumpet sounds]
+
+	What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?
+
+	[Enter the BASTARD, attended]
+
+BASTARD	According to the fair play of the world,
+	Let me have audience; I am sent to speak:
+	My holy lord of Milan, from the king
+	I come, to learn how you have dealt for him;
+	And, as you answer, I do know the scope
+	And warrant limited unto my tongue.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite,
+	And will not temporize with my entreaties;
+	He flatly says he'll not lay down his arms.
+
+BASTARD	By all the blood that ever fury breathed,
+	The youth says well. Now hear our English king;
+	For thus his royalty doth speak in me.
+	He is prepared, and reason too he should:
+	This apish and unmannerly approach,
+	This harness'd masque and unadvised revel,
+	This unhair'd sauciness and boyish troops,
+	The king doth smile at; and is well prepared
+	To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms,
+	From out the circle of his territories.
+	That hand which had the strength, even at your door,
+	To cudgel you and make you take the hatch,
+	To dive like buckets in concealed wells,
+	To crouch in litter of your stable planks,
+	To lie like pawns lock'd up in chests and trunks,
+	To hug with swine, to seek sweet safety out
+	In vaults and prisons, and to thrill and shake
+	Even at the crying of your nation's crow,
+	Thinking his voice an armed Englishman;
+	Shall that victorious hand be feebled here,
+	That in your chambers gave you chastisement?
+	No: know the gallant monarch is in arms
+	And like an eagle o'er his aery towers,
+	To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.
+	And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts,
+	You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb
+	Of your dear mother England, blush for shame;
+	For your own ladies and pale-visaged maids
+	Like Amazons come tripping after drums,
+	Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change,
+	Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts
+	To fierce and bloody inclination.
+
+LEWIS	There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace;
+	We grant thou canst outscold us: fare thee well;
+	We hold our time too precious to be spent
+	With such a brabbler.
+
+CARDINAL PANDULPH	Give me leave to speak.
+
+BASTARD	No, I will speak.
+
+LEWIS	                  We will attend to neither.
+	Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war
+	Plead for our interest and our being here.
+
+BASTARD	Indeed your drums, being beaten, will cry out;
+	And so shall you, being beaten: do but start
+	An echo with the clamour of thy drum,
+	And even at hand a drum is ready braced
+	That shall reverberate all as loud as thine;
+	Sound but another, and another shall
+	As loud as thine rattle the welkin's ear
+	And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder: for at hand,
+	Not trusting to this halting legate here,
+	Whom he hath used rather for sport than need
+	Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits
+	A bare-ribb'd death, whose office is this day
+	To feast upon whole thousands of the French.
+
+LEWIS	Strike up our drums, to find this danger out.
+
+BASTARD	And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The field of battle.
+
+
+	[Alarums. Enter KING JOHN and HUBERT]
+
+KING JOHN	How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert.
+
+HUBERT	Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty?
+
+KING JOHN	This fever, that hath troubled me so long,
+	Lies heavy on me; O, my heart is sick!
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge,
+	Desires your majesty to leave the field
+	And send him word by me which way you go.
+
+KING JOHN	Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the abbey there.
+
+Messenger	Be of good comfort; for the great supply
+	That was expected by the Dauphin here,
+	Are wreck'd three nights ago on Goodwin Sands.
+	This news was brought to Richard but even now:
+	The French fight coldly, and retire themselves.
+
+KING JOHN	Ay me! this tyrant fever burns me up,
+	And will not let me welcome this good news.
+	Set on toward Swinstead: to my litter straight;
+	Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Enter SALISBURY, PEMBROKE, and BIGOT]
+
+SALISBURY	I did not think the king so stored with friends.
+
+PEMBROKE	Up once again; put spirit in the French:
+	If they miscarry, we miscarry too.
+
+SALISBURY	That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge,
+	In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.
+
+PEMBROKE	They say King John sore sick hath left the field.
+
+	[Enter MELUN, wounded]
+
+MELUN	Lead me to the revolts of England here.
+
+SALISBURY	When we were happy we had other names.
+
+PEMBROKE	It is the Count Melun.
+
+SALISBURY	Wounded to death.
+
+MELUN	Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold;
+	Unthread the rude eye of rebellion
+	And welcome home again discarded faith.
+	Seek out King John and fall before his feet;
+	For if the French be lords of this loud day,
+	He means to recompense the pains you take
+	By cutting off your heads: thus hath he sworn
+	And I with him, and many moe with me,
+	Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury;
+	Even on that altar where we swore to you
+	Dear amity and everlasting love.
+
+SALISBURY	May this be possible? may this be true?
+
+MELUN	Have I not hideous death within my view,
+	Retaining but a quantity of life,
+	Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax
+	Resolveth from his figure 'gainst the fire?
+	What in the world should make me now deceive,
+	Since I must lose the use of all deceit?
+	Why should I then be false, since it is true
+	That I must die here and live hence by truth?
+	I say again, if Lewis do win the day,
+	He is forsworn, if e'er those eyes of yours
+	Behold another day break in the east:
+	But even this night, whose black contagious breath
+	Already smokes about the burning crest
+	Of the old, feeble and day-wearied sun,
+	Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire,
+	Paying the fine of rated treachery
+	Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives,
+	If Lewis by your assistance win the day.
+	Commend me to one Hubert with your king:
+	The love of him, and this respect besides,
+	For that my grandsire was an Englishman,
+	Awakes my conscience to confess all this.
+	In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence
+	From forth the noise and rumour of the field,
+	Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts
+	In peace, and part this body and my soul
+	With contemplation and devout desires.
+
+SALISBURY	We do believe thee: and beshrew my soul
+	But I do love the favour and the form
+	Of this most fair occasion, by the which
+	We will untread the steps of damned flight,
+	And like a bated and retired flood,
+	Leaving our rankness and irregular course,
+	Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlook'd
+	And cabby run on in obedience
+	Even to our ocean, to our great King John.
+	My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence;
+	For I do see the cruel pangs of death
+	Right in thine eye. Away, my friends! New flight;
+	And happy newness, that intends old right.
+
+	[Exeunt, leading off MELUN]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The French camp.
+
+
+	[Enter LEWIS and his train]
+
+LEWIS	The sun of heaven methought was loath to set,
+	But stay'd and made the western welkin blush,
+	When English measure backward their own ground
+	In faint retire. O, bravely came we off,
+	When with a volley of our needless shot,
+	After such bloody toil, we bid good night;
+	And wound our tattering colours clearly up,
+	Last in the field, and almost lords of it!
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	Where is my prince, the Dauphin?
+
+LEWIS	Here: what news?
+
+Messenger	The Count Melun is slain; the English lords
+	By his persuasion are again fall'n off,
+	And your supply, which you have wish'd so long,
+	Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin Sands.
+
+LEWIS	Ah, foul shrewd news! beshrew thy very heart!
+	I did not think to be so sad to-night
+	As this hath made me. Who was he that said
+	King John did fly an hour or two before
+	The stumbling night did part our weary powers?
+
+Messenger	Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
+
+LEWIS	Well; keep good quarter and good care to-night:
+	The day shall not be up so soon as I,
+	To try the fair adventure of to-morrow.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	An open place in the neighbourhood of Swinstead Abbey.
+
+
+	[Enter the BASTARD and HUBERT, severally]
+
+HUBERT	Who's there? speak, ho! speak quickly, or I shoot.
+
+BASTARD	A friend. What art thou?
+
+HUBERT	Of the part of England.
+
+BASTARD	Whither dost thou go?
+
+HUBERT	What's that to thee? why may not I demand
+	Of thine affairs, as well as thou of mine?
+
+BASTARD	Hubert, I think?
+
+HUBERT	                  Thou hast a perfect thought:
+	I will upon all hazards well believe
+	Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so well.
+	Who art thou?
+
+BASTARD	                  Who thou wilt: and if thou please,
+	Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think
+	I come one way of the Plantagenets.
+
+HUBERT	Unkind remembrance! thou and eyeless night
+	Have done me shame: brave soldier, pardon me,
+	That any accent breaking from thy tongue
+	Should 'scape the true acquaintance of mine ear.
+
+BASTARD	Come, come; sans compliment, what news abroad?
+
+HUBERT	Why, here walk I in the black brow of night,
+	To find you out.
+
+BASTARD	                  Brief, then; and what's the news?
+
+HUBERT	O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night,
+	Black, fearful, comfortless and horrible.
+
+BASTARD	Show me the very wound of this ill news:
+	I am no woman, I'll not swoon at it.
+
+HUBERT	The king, I fear, is poison'd by a monk:
+	I left him almost speechless; and broke out
+	To acquaint you with this evil, that you might
+	The better arm you to the sudden time,
+	Than if you had at leisure known of this.
+
+BASTARD	How did he take it? who did taste to him?
+
+HUBERT	A monk, I tell you; a resolved villain,
+	Whose bowels suddenly burst out: the king
+	Yet speaks and peradventure may recover.
+
+BASTARD	Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty?
+
+HUBERT	Why, know you not? the lords are all come back,
+	And brought Prince Henry in their company;
+	At whose request the king hath pardon'd them,
+	And they are all about his majesty.
+
+BASTARD	Withhold thine indignation, mighty heaven,
+	And tempt us not to bear above our power!
+	I'll tell tree, Hubert, half my power this night,
+	Passing these flats, are taken by the tide;
+	These Lincoln Washes have devoured them;
+	Myself, well mounted, hardly have escaped.
+	Away before: conduct me to the king;
+	I doubt he will be dead or ere I come.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING JOHN
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	The orchard in Swinstead Abbey.
+
+
+	[Enter PRINCE HENRY, SALISBURY, and BIGOT]
+
+PRINCE HENRY	It is too late: the life of all his blood
+	Is touch'd corruptibly, and his pure brain,
+	Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling-house,
+	Doth by the idle comments that it makes
+	Foretell the ending of mortality.
+
+	[Enter PEMBROKE]
+
+PEMBROKE	His highness yet doth speak, and holds belief
+	That, being brought into the open air,
+	It would allay the burning quality
+	Of that fell poison which assaileth him.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Let him be brought into the orchard here.
+	Doth he still rage?
+
+	[Exit BIGOT]
+
+PEMBROKE	He is more patient
+	Than when you left him; even now he sung.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	O vanity of sickness! fierce extremes
+	In their continuance will not feel themselves.
+	Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts,
+	Leaves them invisible, and his siege is now
+	Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds
+	With many legions of strange fantasies,
+	Which, in their throng and press to that last hold,
+	Confound themselves. 'Tis strange that death
+	should sing.
+	I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,
+	Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,
+	And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings
+	His soul and body to their lasting rest.
+
+SALISBURY	Be of good comfort, prince; for you are born
+	To set a form upon that indigest
+	Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude.
+
+	[Enter Attendants, and BIGOT, carrying KING JOHN in a chair]
+
+KING JOHN	Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room;
+	It would not out at windows nor at doors.
+	There is so hot a summer in my bosom,
+	That all my bowels crumble up to dust:
+	I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen
+	Upon a parchment, and against this fire
+	Do I shrink up.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	                  How fares your majesty?
+
+KING JOHN	Poison'd,--ill fare--dead, forsook, cast off:
+	And none of you will bid the winter come
+	To thrust his icy fingers in my maw,
+	Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course
+	Through my burn'd bosom, nor entreat the north
+	To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips
+	And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much,
+	I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait
+	And so ingrateful, you deny me that.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	O that there were some virtue in my tears,
+	That might relieve you!
+
+KING JOHN	The salt in them is hot.
+	Within me is a hell; and there the poison
+	Is as a fiend confined to tyrannize
+	On unreprievable condemned blood.
+
+	[Enter the BASTARD]
+
+BASTARD	O, I am scalded with my violent motion,
+	And spleen of speed to see your majesty!
+
+KING JOHN	O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye:
+	The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burn'd,
+	And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail
+	Are turned to one thread, one little hair:
+	My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
+	Which holds but till thy news be uttered;
+	And then all this thou seest is but a clod
+	And module of confounded royalty.
+
+BASTARD	The Dauphin is preparing hitherward,
+	Where heaven He knows how we shall answer him;
+	For in a night the best part of my power,
+	As I upon advantage did remove,
+	Were in the Washes all unwarily
+	Devoured by the unexpected flood.
+
+	[KING JOHN dies]
+
+SALISBURY	You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear.
+	My liege! my lord! but now a king, now thus.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	Even so must I run on, and even so stop.
+	What surety of the world, what hope, what stay,
+	When this was now a king, and now is clay?
+
+BASTARD	Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind
+	To do the office for thee of revenge,
+	And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven,
+	As it on earth hath been thy servant still.
+	Now, now, you stars that move in your right spheres,
+	Where be your powers? show now your mended faiths,
+	And instantly return with me again,
+	To push destruction and perpetual shame
+	Out of the weak door of our fainting land.
+	Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought;
+	The Dauphin rages at our very heels.
+
+SALISBURY	It seems you know not, then, so much as we:
+	The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest,
+	Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin,
+	And brings from him such offers of our peace
+	As we with honour and respect may take,
+	With purpose presently to leave this war.
+
+BASTARD	He will the rather do it when he sees
+	Ourselves well sinewed to our defence.
+
+SALISBURY	Nay, it is in a manner done already;
+	For many carriages he hath dispatch'd
+	To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel
+	To the disposing of the cardinal:
+	With whom yourself, myself and other lords,
+	If you think meet, this afternoon will post
+	To consummate this business happily.
+
+BASTARD	Let it be so: and you, my noble prince,
+	With other princes that may best be spared,
+	Shall wait upon your father's funeral.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	At Worcester must his body be interr'd;
+	For so he will'd it.
+
+BASTARD	Thither shall it then:
+	And happily may your sweet self put on
+	The lineal state and glory of the land!
+	To whom with all submission, on my knee
+	I do bequeath my faithful services
+	And true subjection everlastingly.
+
+SALISBURY	And the like tender of our love we make,
+	To rest without a spot for evermore.
+
+PRINCE HENRY	I have a kind soul that would give you thanks
+	And knows not how to do it but with tears.
+
+BASTARD	O, let us pay the time but needful woe,
+	Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs.
+	This England never did, nor never shall,
+	Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,
+	But when it first did help to wound itself.
+	Now these her princes are come home again,
+	Come the three corners of the world in arms,
+	And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue,
+	If England to itself do rest but true.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+KING RICHARD	the Second. (KING RICHARD II:)
+
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	Duke of Lancaster		|
+			|  uncles to the King.
+EDMUND OF LANGLEY	Duke of York  (DUKE OF YORK:)	|
+
+
+HENRY, surnamed
+BOLINGBROKE	(HENRY BOLINGBROKE:)  Duke of Hereford,
+	son to John of Gaunt; afterwards King Henry IV.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	son to the Duke of York.
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	Duke of Norfolk.
+
+DUKE OF SURREY:
+
+EARL OF SALISBURY:
+
+LORD BERKELEY:
+
+
+BUSHY	|
+	|
+BAGOT	|  servants to King Richard.
+	|
+GREEN	|
+
+
+EARL
+OF NORTHUMBERLAND	(NORTHUMBERLAND:)
+
+HENRY PERCY,
+surnamed HOTSPUR	his son. (HENRY PERCY:)
+
+LORD ROSS:
+
+LORD WILLOUGHBY:
+
+LORD FITZWATER:
+
+BISHOP OF CARLISLE:
+
+Abbot Of
+Westminster	(Abbot:)
+
+LORD MARSHAL	(Lord Marshal:)
+
+SIR STEPHEN SCROOP:
+
+SIR
+PIERCE OF EXTON	(EXTON:)
+
+	Captain of a band of Welshmen. (Captain:)
+
+QUEEN
+to King Richard	(QUEEN:)
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	(DUCHESS OF YORK:)
+
+DUCHESS
+OF GLOUCESTER	(DUCHESS:)
+
+	Lady attending on the Queen. (Lady:)
+
+	Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, two Gardeners,
+	Keeper, Messenger, Groom, and other Attendants. (Lord:)
+	(First Herald:)
+	(Second Herald:)
+	(Gardener:)
+	(Keeper:)
+	(Groom:)
+	(Servant:)
+
+
+SCENE	England and Wales.
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. KING RICHARD II's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter KING RICHARD II, JOHN OF GAUNT, with other
+	Nobles and Attendants]
+
+KING RICHARD II	Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster,
+	Hast thou, according to thy oath and band,
+	Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son,
+	Here to make good the boisterous late appeal,
+	Which then our leisure would not let us hear,
+	Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	I have, my liege.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him,
+	If he appeal the duke on ancient malice;
+	Or worthily, as a good subject should,
+	On some known ground of treachery in him?
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	As near as I could sift him on that argument,
+	On some apparent danger seen in him
+	Aim'd at your highness, no inveterate malice.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Then call them to our presence; face to face,
+	And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear
+	The accuser and the accused freely speak:
+	High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire,
+	In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.
+
+	[Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE and THOMAS MOWBRAY]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Many years of happy days befal
+	My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege!
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	Each day still better other's happiness;
+	Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap,
+	Add an immortal title to your crown!
+
+KING RICHARD II	We thank you both: yet one but flatters us,
+	As well appeareth by the cause you come;
+	Namely to appeal each other of high treason.
+	Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object
+	Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	First, heaven be the record to my speech!
+	In the devotion of a subject's love,
+	Tendering the precious safety of my prince,
+	And free from other misbegotten hate,
+	Come I appellant to this princely presence.
+	Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,
+	And mark my greeting well; for what I speak
+	My body shall make good upon this earth,
+	Or my divine soul answer it in heaven.
+	Thou art a traitor and a miscreant,
+	Too good to be so and too bad to live,
+	Since the more fair and crystal is the sky,
+	The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly.
+	Once more, the more to aggravate the note,
+	With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat;
+	And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move,
+	What my tongue speaks my right drawn sword may prove.
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal:
+	'Tis not the trial of a woman's war,
+	The bitter clamour of two eager tongues,
+	Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain;
+	The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this:
+	Yet can I not of such tame patience boast
+	As to be hush'd and nought at all to say:
+	First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me
+	From giving reins and spurs to my free speech;
+	Which else would post until it had return'd
+	These terms of treason doubled down his throat.
+	Setting aside his high blood's royalty,
+	And let him be no kinsman to my liege,
+	I do defy him, and I spit at him;
+	Call him a slanderous coward and a villain:
+	Which to maintain I would allow him odds,
+	And meet him, were I tied to run afoot
+	Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps,
+	Or any other ground inhabitable,
+	Where ever Englishman durst set his foot.
+	Mean time let this defend my loyalty,
+	By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage,
+	Disclaiming here the kindred of the king,
+	And lay aside my high blood's royalty,
+	Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except.
+	If guilty dread have left thee so much strength
+	As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop:
+	By that and all the rites of knighthood else,
+	Will I make good against thee, arm to arm,
+	What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise.
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	I take it up; and by that sword I swear
+	Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder,
+	I'll answer thee in any fair degree,
+	Or chivalrous design of knightly trial:
+	And when I mount, alive may I not light,
+	If I be traitor or unjustly fight!
+
+KING RICHARD II	What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge?
+	It must be great that can inherit us
+	So much as of a thought of ill in him.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Look, what I speak, my life shall prove it true;
+	That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles
+	In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers,
+	The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments,
+	Like a false traitor and injurious villain.
+	Besides I say and will in battle prove,
+	Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge
+	That ever was survey'd by English eye,
+	That all the treasons for these eighteen years
+	Complotted and contrived in this land
+	Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring.
+	Further I say and further will maintain
+	Upon his bad life to make all this good,
+	That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death,
+	Suggest his soon-believing adversaries,
+	And consequently, like a traitor coward,
+	Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of blood:
+	Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries,
+	Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth,
+	To me for justice and rough chastisement;
+	And, by the glorious worth of my descent,
+	This arm shall do it, or this life be spent.
+
+KING RICHARD II	How high a pitch his resolution soars!
+	Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this?
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	O, let my sovereign turn away his face
+	And bid his ears a little while be deaf,
+	Till I have told this slander of his blood,
+	How God and good men hate so foul a liar.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears:
+	Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir,
+	As he is but my father's brother's son,
+	Now, by my sceptre's awe, I make a vow,
+	Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood
+	Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize
+	The unstooping firmness of my upright soul:
+	He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou:
+	Free speech and fearless I to thee allow.
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart,
+	Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest.
+	Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais
+	Disbursed I duly to his highness' soldiers;
+	The other part reserved I by consent,
+	For that my sovereign liege was in my debt
+	Upon remainder of a dear account,
+	Since last I went to France to fetch his queen:
+	Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester's death,
+	I slew him not; but to my own disgrace
+	Neglected my sworn duty in that case.
+	For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster,
+	The honourable father to my foe
+	Once did I lay an ambush for your life,
+	A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul
+	But ere I last received the sacrament
+	I did confess it, and exactly begg'd
+	Your grace's pardon, and I hope I had it.
+	This is my fault: as for the rest appeall'd,
+	It issues from the rancour of a villain,
+	A recreant and most degenerate traitor
+	Which in myself I boldly will defend;
+	And interchangeably hurl down my gage
+	Upon this overweening traitor's foot,
+	To prove myself a loyal gentleman
+	Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom.
+	In haste whereof, most heartily I pray
+	Your highness to assign our trial day.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me;
+	Let's purge this choler without letting blood:
+	This we prescribe, though no physician;
+	Deep malice makes too deep incision;
+	Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed;
+	Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.
+	Good uncle, let this end where it begun;
+	We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	To be a make-peace shall become my age:
+	Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage.
+
+KING RICHARD II	And, Norfolk, throw down his.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	When, Harry, when?
+	Obedience bids I should not bid again.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot.
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot.
+	My life thou shalt command, but not my shame:
+	The one my duty owes; but my fair name,
+	Despite of death that lives upon my grave,
+	To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have.
+	I am disgraced, impeach'd and baffled here,
+	Pierced to the soul with slander's venom'd spear,
+	The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood
+	Which breathed this poison.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Rage must be withstood:
+	Give me his gage: lions make leopards tame.
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	Yea, but not change his spots: take but my shame.
+	And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord,
+	The purest treasure mortal times afford
+	Is spotless reputation: that away,
+	Men are but gilded loam or painted clay.
+	A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest
+	Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast.
+	Mine honour is my life; both grow in one:
+	Take honour from me, and my life is done:
+	Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try;
+	In that I live and for that will I die.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Cousin, throw up your gage; do you begin.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	O, God defend my soul from such deep sin!
+	Shall I seem crest-fall'n in my father's sight?
+	Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height
+	Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue
+	Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong,
+	Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear
+	The slavish motive of recanting fear,
+	And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace,
+	Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face.
+
+	[Exit JOHN OF GAUNT]
+
+KING RICHARD II	We were not born to sue, but to command;
+	Which since we cannot do to make you friends,
+	Be ready, as your lives shall answer it,
+	At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day:
+	There shall your swords and lances arbitrate
+	The swelling difference of your settled hate:
+	Since we can not atone you, we shall see
+	Justice design the victor's chivalry.
+	Lord marshal, command our officers at arms
+	Be ready to direct these home alarms.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The DUKE OF LANCASTER'S palace.
+
+
+	[Enter JOHN OF GAUNT with DUCHESS]
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood
+	Doth more solicit me than your exclaims,
+	To stir against the butchers of his life!
+	But since correction lieth in those hands
+	Which made the fault that we cannot correct,
+	Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven;
+	Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth,
+	Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.
+
+DUCHESS	Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur?
+	Hath love in thy old blood no living fire?
+	Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one,
+	Were as seven vials of his sacred blood,
+	Or seven fair branches springing from one root:
+	Some of those seven are dried by nature's course,
+	Some of those branches by the Destinies cut;
+	But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester,
+	One vial full of Edward's sacred blood,
+	One flourishing branch of his most royal root,
+	Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt,
+	Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded,
+	By envy's hand and murder's bloody axe.
+	Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! that bed, that womb,
+	That metal, that self-mould, that fashion'd thee
+	Made him a man; and though thou livest and breathest,
+	Yet art thou slain in him: thou dost consent
+	In some large measure to thy father's death,
+	In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,
+	Who was the model of thy father's life.
+	Call it not patience, Gaunt; it is despair:
+	In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,
+	Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life,
+	Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee:
+	That which in mean men we intitle patience
+	Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.
+	What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life,
+	The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute,
+	His deputy anointed in His sight,
+	Hath caused his death: the which if wrongfully,
+	Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift
+	An angry arm against His minister.
+
+DUCHESS	Where then, alas, may I complain myself?
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	To God, the widow's champion and defence.
+
+DUCHESS	Why, then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt.
+	Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold
+	Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight:
+	O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear,
+	That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast!
+	Or, if misfortune miss the first career,
+	Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom,
+	They may break his foaming courser's back,
+	And throw the rider headlong in the lists,
+	A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford!
+	Farewell, old Gaunt: thy sometimes brother's wife
+	With her companion grief must end her life.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry:
+	As much good stay with thee as go with me!
+
+DUCHESS	Yet one word more: grief boundeth where it falls,
+	Not with the empty hollowness, but weight:
+	I take my leave before I have begun,
+	For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.
+	Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York.
+	Lo, this is all:--nay, yet depart not so;
+	Though this be all, do not so quickly go;
+	I shall remember more. Bid him--ah, what?--
+	With all good speed at Plashy visit me.
+	Alack, and what shall good old York there see
+	But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls,
+	Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones?
+	And what hear there for welcome but my groans?
+	Therefore commend me; let him not come there,
+	To seek out sorrow that dwells every where.
+	Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die:
+	The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The lists at Coventry.
+
+
+	[Enter the Lord Marshal and the DUKE OF AUMERLE]
+
+Lord Marshal	My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd?
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in.
+
+Lord Marshal	The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold,
+	Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Why, then, the champions are prepared, and stay
+	For nothing but his majesty's approach.
+
+	[The trumpets sound, and KING RICHARD enters with
+	his nobles, JOHN OF GAUNT, BUSHY, BAGOT, GREEN, and
+	others. When they are set, enter THOMAS MOWBRAY in
+	arms, defendant, with a Herald]
+
+KING RICHARD II	Marshal, demand of yonder champion
+	The cause of his arrival here in arms:
+	Ask him his name and orderly proceed
+	To swear him in the justice of his cause.
+
+Lord Marshal	In God's name and the king's, say who thou art
+	And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms,
+	Against what man thou comest, and what thy quarrel:
+	Speak truly, on thy knighthood and thy oath;
+	As so defend thee heaven and thy valour!
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk;
+	Who hither come engaged by my oath--
+	Which God defend a knight should violate!--
+	Both to defend my loyalty and truth
+	To God, my king and my succeeding issue,
+	Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me
+	And, by the grace of God and this mine arm,
+	To prove him, in defending of myself,
+	A traitor to my God, my king, and me:
+	And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
+
+	[The trumpets sound. Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE,
+	appellant, in armour, with a Herald]
+
+KING RICHARD II	Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms,
+	Both who he is and why he cometh hither
+	Thus plated in habiliments of war,
+	And formally, according to our law,
+	Depose him in the justice of his cause.
+
+Lord Marshal	What is thy name? and wherefore comest thou hither,
+	Before King Richard in his royal lists?
+	Against whom comest thou? and what's thy quarrel?
+	Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven!
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby
+	Am I; who ready here do stand in arms,
+	To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour,
+	In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
+	That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous,
+	To God of heaven, King Richard and to me;
+	And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
+
+Lord Marshal	On pain of death, no person be so bold
+	Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists,
+	Except the marshal and such officers
+	Appointed to direct these fair designs.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand,
+	And bow my knee before his majesty:
+	For Mowbray and myself are like two men
+	That vow a long and weary pilgrimage;
+	Then let us take a ceremonious leave
+	And loving farewell of our several friends.
+
+Lord Marshal	The appellant in all duty greets your highness,
+	And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave.
+
+KING RICHARD II	We will descend and fold him in our arms.
+	Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,
+	So be thy fortune in this royal fight!
+	Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed,
+	Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	O let no noble eye profane a tear
+	For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear:
+	As confident as is the falcon's flight
+	Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
+	My loving lord, I take my leave of you;
+	Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle;
+	Not sick, although I have to do with death,
+	But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.
+	Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet
+	The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet:
+	O thou, the earthly author of my blood,
+	Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,
+	Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up
+	To reach at victory above my head,
+	Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers;
+	And with thy blessings steel my lance's point,
+	That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat,
+	And furbish new the name of John a Gaunt,
+	Even in the lusty havior of his son.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	God in thy good cause make thee prosperous!
+	Be swift like lightning in the execution;
+	And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,
+	Fall like amazing thunder on the casque
+	Of thy adverse pernicious enemy:
+	Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive!
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	However God or fortune cast my lot,
+	There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne,
+	A loyal, just and upright gentleman:
+	Never did captive with a freer heart
+	Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace
+	His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement,
+	More than my dancing soul doth celebrate
+	This feast of battle with mine adversary.
+	Most mighty liege, and my companion peers,
+	Take from my mouth the wish of happy years:
+	As gentle and as jocund as to jest
+	Go I to fight: truth hath a quiet breast.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Farewell, my lord: securely I espy
+	Virtue with valour couched in thine eye.
+	Order the trial, marshal, and begin.
+
+Lord Marshal	Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
+	Receive thy lance; and God defend the right!
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Strong as a tower in hope, I cry amen.
+
+Lord Marshal	Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk.
+
+First Herald	Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
+	Stands here for God, his sovereign and himself,
+	On pain to be found false and recreant,
+	To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,
+	A traitor to his God, his king and him;
+	And dares him to set forward to the fight.
+
+Second Herald	Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
+	On pain to be found false and recreant,
+	Both to defend himself and to approve
+	Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
+	To God, his sovereign and to him disloyal;
+	Courageously and with a free desire
+	Attending but the signal to begin.
+
+Lord Marshal	Sound, trumpets; and set forward, combatants.
+
+	[A charge sounded]
+
+	Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Let them lay by their helmets and their spears,
+	And both return back to their chairs again:
+	Withdraw with us: and let the trumpets sound
+	While we return these dukes what we decree.
+
+	[A long flourish]
+
+	Draw near,
+	And list what with our council we have done.
+	For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd
+	With that dear blood which it hath fostered;
+	And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect
+	Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword;
+	And for we think the eagle-winged pride
+	Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,
+	With rival-hating envy, set on you
+	To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle
+	Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep;
+	Which so roused up with boisterous untuned drums,
+	With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray,
+	And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,
+	Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace
+	And make us wade even in our kindred's blood,
+	Therefore, we banish you our territories:
+	You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life,
+	Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields
+	Shall not regreet our fair dominions,
+	But tread the stranger paths of banishment.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Your will be done: this must my comfort be,
+	Sun that warms you here shall shine on me;
+	And those his golden beams to you here lent
+	Shall point on me and gild my banishment.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom,
+	Which I with some unwillingness pronounce:
+	The sly slow hours shall not determinate
+	The dateless limit of thy dear exile;
+	The hopeless word of 'never to return'
+	Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege,
+	And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth:
+	A dearer merit, not so deep a maim
+	As to be cast forth in the common air,
+	Have I deserved at your highness' hands.
+	The language I have learn'd these forty years,
+	My native English, now I must forego:
+	And now my tongue's use is to me no more
+	Than an unstringed viol or a harp,
+	Or like a cunning instrument cased up,
+	Or, being open, put into his hands
+	That knows no touch to tune the harmony:
+	Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue,
+	Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips;
+	And dull unfeeling barren ignorance
+	Is made my gaoler to attend on me.
+	I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,
+	Too far in years to be a pupil now:
+	What is thy sentence then but speechless death,
+	Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath?
+
+KING RICHARD II	It boots thee not to be compassionate:
+	After our sentence plaining comes too late.
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	Then thus I turn me from my country's light,
+	To dwell in solemn shades of endless night.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Return again, and take an oath with thee.
+	Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands;
+	Swear by the duty that you owe to God--
+	Our part therein we banish with yourselves--
+	To keep the oath that we administer:
+	You never shall, so help you truth and God!
+	Embrace each other's love in banishment;
+	Nor never look upon each other's face;
+	Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile
+	This louring tempest of your home-bred hate;
+	Nor never by advised purpose meet
+	To plot, contrive, or complot any ill
+	'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	I swear.
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	And I, to keep all this.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy:--
+	By this time, had the king permitted us,
+	One of our souls had wander'd in the air.
+	Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh,
+	As now our flesh is banish'd from this land:
+	Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm;
+	Since thou hast far to go, bear not along
+	The clogging burthen of a guilty soul.
+
+THOMAS MOWBRAY	No, Bolingbroke: if ever I were traitor,
+	My name be blotted from the book of life,
+	And I from heaven banish'd as from hence!
+	But what thou art, God, thou, and I do know;
+	And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue.
+	Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray;
+	Save back to England, all the world's my way.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING RICHARD II	Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes
+	I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect
+	Hath from the number of his banish'd years
+	Pluck'd four away.
+
+	[To HENRY BOLINGBROKE]
+
+	Six frozen winter spent,
+	Return with welcome home from banishment.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	How long a time lies in one little word!
+	Four lagging winters and four wanton springs
+	End in a word: such is the breath of kings.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	I thank my liege, that in regard of me
+	He shortens four years of my son's exile:
+	But little vantage shall I reap thereby;
+	For, ere the six years that he hath to spend
+	Can change their moons and bring their times about
+	My oil-dried lamp and time-bewasted light
+	Shall be extinct with age and endless night;
+	My inch of taper will be burnt and done,
+	And blindfold death not let me see my son.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Why uncle, thou hast many years to live.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	But not a minute, king, that thou canst give:
+	Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow,
+	And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow;
+	Thou canst help time to furrow me with age,
+	But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage;
+	Thy word is current with him for my death,
+	But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Thy son is banish'd upon good advice,
+	Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave:
+	Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour?
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.
+	You urged me as a judge; but I had rather
+	You would have bid me argue like a father.
+	O, had it been a stranger, not my child,
+	To smooth his fault I should have been more mild:
+	A partial slander sought I to avoid,
+	And in the sentence my own life destroy'd.
+	Alas, I look'd when some of you should say,
+	I was too strict to make mine own away;
+	But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue
+	Against my will to do myself this wrong.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Cousin, farewell; and, uncle, bid him so:
+	Six years we banish him, and he shall go.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II and train]
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Cousin, farewell: what presence must not know,
+	From where you do remain let paper show.
+
+Lord Marshal	My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride,
+	As far as land will let me, by your side.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words,
+	That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends?
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	I have too few to take my leave of you,
+	When the tongue's office should be prodigal
+	To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	Thy grief is but thy absence for a time.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Joy absent, grief is present for that time.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	What is six winters? they are quickly gone.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	Call it a travel that thou takest for pleasure.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	My heart will sigh when I miscall it so,
+	Which finds it an inforced pilgrimage.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	The sullen passage of thy weary steps
+	Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set
+	The precious jewel of thy home return.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make
+	Will but remember me what a deal of world
+	I wander from the jewels that I love.
+	Must I not serve a long apprenticehood
+	To foreign passages, and in the end,
+	Having my freedom, boast of nothing else
+	But that I was a journeyman to grief?
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	All places that the eye of heaven visits
+	Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.
+	Teach thy necessity to reason thus;
+	There is no virtue like necessity.
+	Think not the king did banish thee,
+	But thou the king. Woe doth the heavier sit,
+	Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.
+	Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour
+	And not the king exiled thee; or suppose
+	Devouring pestilence hangs in our air
+	And thou art flying to a fresher clime:
+	Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it
+	To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou comest:
+	Suppose the singing birds musicians,
+	The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd,
+	The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more
+	Than a delightful measure or a dance;
+	For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite
+	The man that mocks at it and sets it light.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	O, who can hold a fire in his hand
+	By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?
+	Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite
+	By bare imagination of a feast?
+	Or wallow naked in December snow
+	By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
+	O, no! the apprehension of the good
+	Gives but the greater feeling to the worse:
+	Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more
+	Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way:
+	Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu;
+	My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet!
+	Where'er I wander, boast of this I can,
+	Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The court.
+
+
+	[Enter KING RICHARD II, with BAGOT and GREEN at one
+	door; and the DUKE OF AUMERLE at another]
+
+KING RICHARD II	We did observe. Cousin Aumerle,
+	How far brought you high Hereford on his way?
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	I brought high Hereford, if you call him so,
+	But to the next highway, and there I left him.
+
+KING RICHARD II	And say, what store of parting tears were shed?
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Faith, none for me; except the north-east wind,
+	Which then blew bitterly against our faces,
+	Awaked the sleeping rheum, and so by chance
+	Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.
+
+KING RICHARD II	What said our cousin when you parted with him?
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	'Farewell:'
+	And, for my heart disdained that my tongue
+	Should so profane the word, that taught me craft
+	To counterfeit oppression of such grief
+	That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave.
+	Marry, would the word 'farewell' have lengthen'd hours
+	And added years to his short banishment,
+	He should have had a volume of farewells;
+	But since it would not, he had none of me.
+
+KING RICHARD II	He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt,
+	When time shall call him home from banishment,
+	Whether our kinsman come to see his friends.
+	Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green
+	Observed his courtship to the common people;
+	How he did seem to dive into their hearts
+	With humble and familiar courtesy,
+	What reverence he did throw away on slaves,
+	Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles
+	And patient underbearing of his fortune,
+	As 'twere to banish their affects with him.
+	Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench;
+	A brace of draymen bid God speed him well
+	And had the tribute of his supple knee,
+	With 'Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends;'
+	As were our England in reversion his,
+	And he our subjects' next degree in hope.
+
+GREEN	Well, he is gone; and with him go these thoughts.
+	Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland,
+	Expedient manage must be made, my liege,
+	Ere further leisure yield them further means
+	For their advantage and your highness' loss.
+
+KING RICHARD II	We will ourself in person to this war:
+	And, for our coffers, with too great a court
+	And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light,
+	We are inforced to farm our royal realm;
+	The revenue whereof shall furnish us
+	For our affairs in hand: if that come short,
+	Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters;
+	Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich,
+	They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold
+	And send them after to supply our wants;
+	For we will make for Ireland presently.
+
+	[Enter BUSHY]
+
+	Bushy, what news?
+
+BUSHY	Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord,
+	Suddenly taken; and hath sent post haste
+	To entreat your majesty to visit him.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Where lies he?
+
+BUSHY	At Ely House.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Now put it, God, in the physician's mind
+	To help him to his grave immediately!
+	The lining of his coffers shall make coats
+	To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.
+	Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him:
+	Pray God we may make haste, and come too late!
+
+All	Amen.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Ely House.
+
+
+	[Enter JOHN OF GAUNT sick, with the DUKE OF YORK,
+	&c]
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	Will the king come, that I may breathe my last
+	In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth?
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath;
+	For all in vain comes counsel to his ear.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	O, but they say the tongues of dying men
+	Enforce attention like deep harmony:
+	Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain,
+	For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain.
+	He that no more must say is listen'd more
+	Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose;
+	More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before:
+	The setting sun, and music at the close,
+	As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
+	Writ in remembrance more than things long past:
+	Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear,
+	My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds,
+	As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond,
+	Lascivious metres, to whose venom sound
+	The open ear of youth doth always listen;
+	Report of fashions in proud Italy,
+	Whose manners still our tardy apish nation
+	Limps after in base imitation.
+	Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity--
+	So it be new, there's no respect how vile--
+	That is not quickly buzzed into his ears?
+	Then all too late comes counsel to be heard,
+	Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard.
+	Direct not him whose way himself will choose:
+	'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	Methinks I am a prophet new inspired
+	And thus expiring do foretell of him:
+	His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last,
+	For violent fires soon burn out themselves;
+	Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short;
+	He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes;
+	With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder:
+	Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,
+	Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
+	This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
+	This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
+	This other Eden, demi-paradise,
+	This fortress built by Nature for herself
+	Against infection and the hand of war,
+	This happy breed of men, this little world,
+	This precious stone set in the silver sea,
+	Which serves it in the office of a wall,
+	Or as a moat defensive to a house,
+	Against the envy of less happier lands,
+	This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,
+	This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
+	Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth,
+	Renowned for their deeds as far from home,
+	For Christian service and true chivalry,
+	As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry,
+	Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son,
+	This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
+	Dear for her reputation through the world,
+	Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it,
+	Like to a tenement or pelting farm:
+	England, bound in with the triumphant sea
+	Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
+	Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
+	With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds:
+	That England, that was wont to conquer others,
+	Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
+	Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life,
+	How happy then were my ensuing death!
+
+	[Enter KING RICHARD II and QUEEN, DUKE OF AUMERLE,
+	BUSHY, GREEN, BAGOT, LORD ROSS, and LORD
+	WILLOUGHBY]
+
+DUKE OF YORK	The king is come: deal mildly with his youth;
+	For young hot colts being raged do rage the more.
+
+QUEEN	How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster?
+
+KING RICHARD II	What comfort, man? how is't with aged Gaunt?
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	O how that name befits my composition!
+	Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old:
+	Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast;
+	And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt?
+	For sleeping England long time have I watch'd;
+	Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt:
+	The pleasure that some fathers feed upon,
+	Is my strict fast; I mean, my children's looks;
+	And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt:
+	Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave,
+	Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Can sick men play so nicely with their names?
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	No, misery makes sport to mock itself:
+	Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me,
+	I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Should dying men flatter with those that live?
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	No, no, men living flatter those that die.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Thou, now a-dying, say'st thou flatterest me.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	O, no! thou diest, though I the sicker be.
+
+KING RICHARD II	I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	Now He that made me knows I see thee ill;
+	Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill.
+	Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land
+	Wherein thou liest in reputation sick;
+	And thou, too careless patient as thou art,
+	Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure
+	Of those physicians that first wounded thee:
+	A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown,
+	Whose compass is no bigger than thy head;
+	And yet, incaged in so small a verge,
+	The waste is no whit lesser than thy land.
+	O, had thy grandsire with a prophet's eye
+	Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons,
+	From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame,
+	Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd,
+	Which art possess'd now to depose thyself.
+	Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world,
+	It were a shame to let this land by lease;
+	But for thy world enjoying but this land,
+	Is it not more than shame to shame it so?
+	Landlord of England art thou now, not king:
+	Thy state of law is bondslave to the law; And thou--
+
+KING RICHARD II	         A lunatic lean-witted fool,
+	Presuming on an ague's privilege,
+	Darest with thy frozen admonition
+	Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood
+	With fury from his native residence.
+	Now, by my seat's right royal majesty,
+	Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son,
+	This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head
+	Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders.
+
+JOHN OF GAUNT	O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son,
+	For that I was his father Edward's son;
+	That blood already, like the pelican,
+	Hast thou tapp'd out and drunkenly caroused:
+	My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul,
+	Whom fair befal in heaven 'mongst happy souls!
+	May be a precedent and witness good
+	That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood:
+	Join with the present sickness that I have;
+	And thy unkindness be like crooked age,
+	To crop at once a too long wither'd flower.
+	Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!
+	These words hereafter thy tormentors be!
+	Convey me to my bed, then to my grave:
+	Love they to live that love and honour have.
+
+	[Exit, borne off by his Attendants]
+
+KING RICHARD II	And let them die that age and sullens have;
+	For both hast thou, and both become the grave.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	I do beseech your majesty, impute his words
+	To wayward sickliness and age in him:
+	He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear
+	As Harry Duke of Hereford, were he here.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his;
+	As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is.
+
+	[Enter NORTHUMBERLAND]
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your majesty.
+
+KING RICHARD II	What says he?
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	                  Nay, nothing; all is said
+	His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
+	Words, life and all, old Lancaster hath spent.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Be York the next that must be bankrupt so!
+	Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
+
+KING RICHARD II	The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he;
+	His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be.
+	So much for that. Now for our Irish wars:
+	We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns,
+	Which live like venom where no venom else
+	But only they have privilege to live.
+	And for these great affairs do ask some charge,
+	Towards our assistance we do seize to us
+	The plate, corn, revenues and moveables,
+	Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	How long shall I be patient? ah, how long
+	Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong?
+	Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment
+	Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs,
+	Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke
+	About his marriage, nor my own disgrace,
+	Have ever made me sour my patient cheek,
+	Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face.
+	I am the last of noble Edward's sons,
+	Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first:
+	In war was never lion raged more fierce,
+	In peace was never gentle lamb more mild,
+	Than was that young and princely gentleman.
+	His face thou hast, for even so look'd he,
+	Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours;
+	But when he frown'd, it was against the French
+	And not against his friends; his noble hand
+	Did will what he did spend and spent not that
+	Which his triumphant father's hand had won;
+	His hands were guilty of no kindred blood,
+	But bloody with the enemies of his kin.
+	O Richard! York is too far gone with grief,
+	Or else he never would compare between.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Why, uncle, what's the matter?
+
+DUKE OF YORK	O my liege,
+	Pardon me, if you please; if not, I, pleased
+	Not to be pardon'd, am content withal.
+	Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands
+	The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford?
+	Is not Gaunt dead, and doth not Hereford live?
+	Was not Gaunt just, and is not Harry true?
+	Did not the one deserve to have an heir?
+	Is not his heir a well-deserving son?
+	Take Hereford's rights away, and take from Time
+	His charters and his customary rights;
+	Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day;
+	Be not thyself; for how art thou a king
+	But by fair sequence and succession?
+	Now, afore God--God forbid I say true!--
+	If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights,
+	Call in the letters patent that he hath
+	By his attorneys-general to sue
+	His livery, and deny his offer'd homage,
+	You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,
+	You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts
+	And prick my tender patience, to those thoughts
+	Which honour and allegiance cannot think.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Think what you will, we seize into our hands
+	His plate, his goods, his money and his lands.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	I'll not be by the while: my liege, farewell:
+	What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell;
+	But by bad courses may be understood
+	That their events can never fall out good.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING RICHARD II	Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight:
+	Bid him repair to us to Ely House
+	To see this business. To-morrow next
+	We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow:
+	And we create, in absence of ourself,
+	Our uncle York lord governor of England;
+	For he is just and always loved us well.
+	Come on, our queen: to-morrow must we part;
+	Be merry, for our time of stay is short
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II, QUEEN, DUKE OF
+	AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, and BAGOT]
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead.
+
+LORD ROSS	And living too; for now his son is duke.
+
+LORD WILLOUGHBY	Barely in title, not in revenue.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Richly in both, if justice had her right.
+
+LORD ROSS	My heart is great; but it must break with silence,
+	Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more
+	That speaks thy words again to do thee harm!
+
+LORD WILLOUGHBY	Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of Hereford?
+	If it be so, out with it boldly, man;
+	Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him.
+
+LORD ROSS	No good at all that I can do for him;
+	Unless you call it good to pity him,
+	Bereft and gelded of his patrimony.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne
+	In him, a royal prince, and many moe
+	Of noble blood in this declining land.
+	The king is not himself, but basely led
+	By flatterers; and what they will inform,
+	Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all,
+	That will the king severely prosecute
+	'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs.
+
+LORD ROSS	The commons hath he pill'd with grievous taxes,
+	And quite lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fined
+	For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts.
+
+LORD WILLOUGHBY	And daily new exactions are devised,
+	As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what:
+	But what, o' God's name, doth become of this?
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not,
+	But basely yielded upon compromise
+	That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows:
+	More hath he spent in peace than they in wars.
+
+LORD ROSS	The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm.
+
+LORD WILLOUGHBY	The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him.
+
+LORD ROSS	He hath not money for these Irish wars,
+	His burthenous taxations notwithstanding,
+	But by the robbing of the banish'd duke.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	His noble kinsman: most degenerate king!
+	But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing,
+	Yet see no shelter to avoid the storm;
+	We see the wind sit sore upon our sails,
+	And yet we strike not, but securely perish.
+
+LORD ROSS	We see the very wreck that we must suffer;
+	And unavoided is the danger now,
+	For suffering so the causes of our wreck.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Not so; even through the hollow eyes of death
+	I spy life peering; but I dare not say
+	How near the tidings of our comfort is.
+
+LORD WILLOUGHBY	Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours.
+
+LORD ROSS	Be confident to speak, Northumberland:
+	We three are but thyself; and, speaking so,
+	Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Then thus: I have from Port le Blanc, a bay
+	In Brittany, received intelligence
+	That Harry Duke of Hereford, Rainold Lord Cobham,
+	[                                               ]
+	That late broke from the Duke of Exeter,
+	His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury,
+	Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston,
+	Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton and Francis Quoint,
+	All these well furnish'd by the Duke of Bretagne
+	With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war,
+	Are making hither with all due expedience
+	And shortly mean to touch our northern shore:
+	Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay
+	The first departing of the king for Ireland.
+	If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke,
+	Imp out our drooping country's broken wing,
+	Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown,
+	Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre's gilt
+	And make high majesty look like itself,
+	Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh;
+	But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
+	Stay and be secret, and myself will go.
+
+LORD ROSS	To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that fear.
+
+LORD WILLOUGHBY	Hold out my horse, and I will first be there.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter QUEEN, BUSHY, and BAGOT]
+
+BUSHY	Madam, your majesty is too much sad:
+	You promised, when you parted with the king,
+	To lay aside life-harming heaviness
+	And entertain a cheerful disposition.
+
+QUEEN	To please the king I did; to please myself
+	I cannot do it; yet I know no cause
+	Why I should welcome such a guest as grief,
+	Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest
+	As my sweet Richard: yet again, methinks,
+	Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb,
+	Is coming towards me, and my inward soul
+	With nothing trembles: at some thing it grieves,
+	More than with parting from my lord the king.
+
+BUSHY	Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows,
+	Which shows like grief itself, but is not so;
+	For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
+	Divides one thing entire to many objects;
+	Like perspectives, which rightly gazed upon
+	Show nothing but confusion, eyed awry
+	Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty,
+	Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
+	Find shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail;
+	Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows
+	Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen,
+	More than your lord's departure weep not: more's not seen;
+	Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye,
+	Which for things true weeps things imaginary.
+
+QUEEN	It may be so; but yet my inward soul
+	Persuades me it is otherwise: howe'er it be,
+	I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad
+	As, though on thinking on no thought I think,
+	Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.
+
+BUSHY	'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady.
+
+QUEEN	'Tis nothing less: conceit is still derived
+	From some forefather grief; mine is not so,
+	For nothing had begot my something grief;
+	Or something hath the nothing that I grieve:
+	'Tis in reversion that I do possess;
+	But what it is, that is not yet known; what
+	I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot.
+
+	[Enter GREEN]
+
+GREEN	God save your majesty! and well met, gentlemen:
+	I hope the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland.
+
+QUEEN	Why hopest thou so? 'tis better hope he is;
+	For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope:
+	Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipp'd?
+
+GREEN	That he, our hope, might have retired his power,
+	And driven into despair an enemy's hope,
+	Who strongly hath set footing in this land:
+	The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself,
+	And with uplifted arms is safe arrived
+	At Ravenspurgh.
+
+QUEEN	                  Now God in heaven forbid!
+
+GREEN	Ah, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse,
+	The Lord Northumberland, his son young Henry Percy,
+	The Lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby,
+	With all their powerful friends, are fled to him.
+
+BUSHY	Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland
+	And all the rest revolted faction traitors?
+
+GREEN	We have: whereupon the Earl of Worcester
+	Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship,
+	And all the household servants fled with him
+	To Bolingbroke.
+
+QUEEN	So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe,
+	And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir:
+	Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy,
+	And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother,
+	Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd.
+
+BUSHY	Despair not, madam.
+
+QUEEN	Who shall hinder me?
+	I will despair, and be at enmity
+	With cozening hope: he is a flatterer,
+	A parasite, a keeper back of death,
+	Who gently would dissolve the bands of life,
+	Which false hope lingers in extremity.
+
+	[Enter DUKE OF YORK]
+
+GREEN	Here comes the Duke of York.
+
+QUEEN	With signs of war about his aged neck:
+	O, full of careful business are his looks!
+	Uncle, for God's sake, speak comfortable words.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts:
+	Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth,
+	Where nothing lives but crosses, cares and grief.
+	Your husband, he is gone to save far off,
+	Whilst others come to make him lose at home:
+	Here am I left to underprop his land,
+	Who, weak with age, cannot support myself:
+	Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made;
+	Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him.
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+Servant	My lord, your son was gone before I came.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	He was? Why, so! go all which way it will!
+	The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold,
+	And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.
+	Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester;
+	Bid her send me presently a thousand pound:
+	Hold, take my ring.
+
+Servant	My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship,
+	To-day, as I came by, I called there;
+	But I shall grieve you to report the rest.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	What is't, knave?
+
+Servant	An hour before I came, the duchess died.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	God for his mercy! what a tide of woes
+	Comes rushing on this woeful land at once!
+	I know not what to do: I would to God,
+	So my untruth had not provoked him to it,
+	The king had cut off my head with my brother's.
+	What, are there no posts dispatch'd for Ireland?
+	How shall we do for money for these wars?
+	Come, sister,--cousin, I would say--pray, pardon me.
+	Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts
+	And bring away the armour that is there.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+	Gentlemen, will you go muster men?
+	If I know how or which way to order these affairs
+	Thus thrust disorderly into my hands,
+	Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen:
+	The one is my sovereign, whom both my oath
+	And duty bids defend; the other again
+	Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd,
+	Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right.
+	Well, somewhat we must do. Come, cousin, I'll
+	Dispose of you.
+	Gentlemen, go, muster up your men,
+	And meet me presently at Berkeley.
+	I should to Plashy too;
+	But time will not permit: all is uneven,
+	And every thing is left at six and seven.
+
+	[Exeunt DUKE OF YORK and QUEEN]
+
+BUSHY	The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland,
+	But none returns. For us to levy power
+	Proportionable to the enemy
+	Is all unpossible.
+
+GREEN	Besides, our nearness to the king in love
+	Is near the hate of those love not the king.
+
+BAGOT	And that's the wavering commons: for their love
+	Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them
+	By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate.
+
+BUSHY	Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd.
+
+BAGOT	If judgement lie in them, then so do we,
+	Because we ever have been near the king.
+
+GREEN	Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristol castle:
+	The Earl of Wiltshire is already there.
+
+BUSHY	Thither will I with you; for little office
+	The hateful commons will perform for us,
+	Except like curs to tear us all to pieces.
+	Will you go along with us?
+
+BAGOT	No; I will to Ireland to his majesty.
+	Farewell: if heart's presages be not vain,
+	We three here art that ne'er shall meet again.
+
+BUSHY	That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke.
+
+GREEN	Alas, poor duke! the task he undertakes
+	Is numbering sands and drinking oceans dry:
+	Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly.
+	Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever.
+
+BUSHY	Well, we may meet again.
+
+BAGOT	I fear me, never.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Wilds in Gloucestershire.
+
+
+	[Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE and NORTHUMBERLAND, with Forces]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now?
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Believe me, noble lord,
+	I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire:
+	These high wild hills and rough uneven ways
+	Draws out our miles, and makes them wearisome,
+	And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,
+	Making the hard way sweet and delectable.
+	But I bethink me what a weary way
+	From Ravenspurgh to Cotswold will be found
+	In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company,
+	Which, I protest, hath very much beguiled
+	The tediousness and process of my travel:
+	But theirs is sweetened with the hope to have
+	The present benefit which I possess;
+	And hope to joy is little less in joy
+	Than hope enjoy'd: by this the weary lords
+	Shall make their way seem short, as mine hath done
+	By sight of what I have, your noble company.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Of much less value is my company
+	Than your good words. But who comes here?
+
+	[Enter HENRY PERCY]
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	It is my son, young Harry Percy,
+	Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever.
+	Harry, how fares your uncle?
+
+HENRY PERCY	I had thought, my lord, to have learn'd his health of you.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Why, is he not with the queen?
+
+HENRY PERCY	No, my good Lord; he hath forsook the court,
+	Broken his staff of office and dispersed
+	The household of the king.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	What was his reason?
+	He was not so resolved when last we spake together.
+
+HENRY PERCY	Because your lordship was proclaimed traitor.
+	But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurgh,
+	To offer service to the Duke of Hereford,
+	And sent me over by Berkeley, to discover
+	What power the Duke of York had levied there;
+	Then with directions to repair to Ravenspurgh.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy?
+
+HENRY PERCY	No, my good lord, for that is not forgot
+	Which ne'er I did remember: to my knowledge,
+	I never in my life did look on him.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Then learn to know him now; this is the duke.
+
+HENRY PERCY	My gracious lord, I tender you my service,
+	Such as it is, being tender, raw and young:
+	Which elder days shall ripen and confirm
+	To more approved service and desert.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be sure
+	I count myself in nothing else so happy
+	As in a soul remembering my good friends;
+	And, as my fortune ripens with thy love,
+	It shall be still thy true love's recompense:
+	My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	How far is it to Berkeley? and what stir
+	Keeps good old York there with his men of war?
+
+HENRY PERCY	There stands the castle, by yon tuft of trees,
+	Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have heard;
+	And in it are the Lords of York, Berkeley, and Seymour;
+	None else of name and noble estimate.
+
+	[Enter LORD ROSS and LORD WILLOUGHBY]
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Here come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby,
+	Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pursues
+	A banish'd traitor: all my treasury
+	Is yet but unfelt thanks, which more enrich'd
+	Shall be your love and labour's recompense.
+
+LORD ROSS	Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord.
+
+LORD WILLOUGHBY	And far surmounts our labour to attain it.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor;
+	Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,
+	Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?
+
+	[Enter LORD BERKELEY]
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	It is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess.
+
+LORD BERKELEY	My Lord of Hereford, my message is to you.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	My lord, my answer is--to Lancaster;
+	And I am come to seek that name in England;
+	And I must find that title in your tongue,
+	Before I make reply to aught you say.
+
+LORD BERKELEY	Mistake me not, my lord; 'tis not my meaning
+	To raze one title of your honour out:
+	To you, my lord, I come, what lord you will,
+	From the most gracious regent of this land,
+	The Duke of York, to know what pricks you on
+	To take advantage of the absent time
+	And fright our native peace with self-born arms.
+
+	[Enter DUKE OF YORK attended]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	I shall not need transport my words by you;
+	Here comes his grace in person. My noble uncle!
+
+	[Kneels]
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee,
+	Whose duty is deceiveable and false.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	My gracious uncle--
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Tut, tut!
+	Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle:
+	I am no traitor's uncle; and that word 'grace.'
+	In an ungracious mouth is but profane.
+	Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs
+	Dared once to touch a dust of England's ground?
+	But then more 'why?' why have they dared to march
+	So many miles upon her peaceful bosom,
+	Frighting her pale-faced villages with war
+	And ostentation of despised arms?
+	Comest thou because the anointed king is hence?
+	Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind,
+	And in my loyal bosom lies his power.
+	Were I but now the lord of such hot youth
+	As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself
+	Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
+	From forth the ranks of many thousand French,
+	O, then how quickly should this arm of mine.
+	Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee
+	And minister correction to thy fault!
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	My gracious uncle, let me know my fault:
+	On what condition stands it and wherein?
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Even in condition of the worst degree,
+	In gross rebellion and detested treason:
+	Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come
+	Before the expiration of thy time,
+	In braving arms against thy sovereign.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	As I was banish'd, I was banish'd Hereford;
+	But as I come, I come for Lancaster.
+	And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace
+	Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye:
+	You are my father, for methinks in you
+	I see old Gaunt alive; O, then, my father,
+	Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd
+	A wandering vagabond; my rights and royalties
+	Pluck'd from my arms perforce and given away
+	To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
+	If that my cousin king be King of England,
+	It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster.
+	You have a son, Aumerle, my noble cousin;
+	Had you first died, and he been thus trod down,
+	He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father,
+	To rouse his wrongs and chase them to the bay.
+	I am denied to sue my livery here,
+	And yet my letters-patents give me leave:
+	My father's goods are all distrain'd and sold,
+	And these and all are all amiss employ'd.
+	What would you have me do? I am a subject,
+	And I challenge law: attorneys are denied me;
+	And therefore, personally I lay my claim
+	To my inheritance of free descent.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	The noble duke hath been too much abused.
+
+LORD ROSS	It stands your grace upon to do him right.
+
+LORD WILLOUGHBY	Base men by his endowments are made great.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	My lords of England, let me tell you this:
+	I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs
+	And laboured all I could to do him right;
+	But in this kind to come, in braving arms,
+	Be his own carver and cut out his way,
+	To find out right with wrong, it may not be;
+	And you that do abet him in this kind
+	Cherish rebellion and are rebels all.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	The noble duke hath sworn his coming is
+	But for his own; and for the right of that
+	We all have strongly sworn to give him aid;
+	And let him ne'er see joy that breaks that oath!
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Well, well, I see the issue of these arms:
+	I cannot mend it, I must needs confess,
+	Because my power is weak and all ill left:
+	But if I could, by Him that gave me life,
+	I would attach you all and make you stoop
+	Unto the sovereign mercy of the king;
+	But since I cannot, be it known to you
+	I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well;
+	Unless you please to enter in the castle
+	And there repose you for this night.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	An offer, uncle, that we will accept:
+	But we must win your grace to go with us
+	To Bristol castle, which they say is held
+	By Bushy, Bagot and their complices,
+	The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
+	Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	It may be I will go with you: but yet I'll pause;
+	For I am loath to break our country's laws.
+	Nor friends nor foes, to me welcome you are:
+	Things past redress are now with me past care.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A camp in Wales.
+
+
+	[Enter EARL OF SALISBURY and a Welsh Captain]
+
+Captain	My lord of Salisbury, we have stay'd ten days,
+	And hardly kept our countrymen together,
+	And yet we hear no tidings from the king;
+	Therefore we will disperse ourselves: farewell.
+
+EARL OF SALISBURY	Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welshman:
+	The king reposeth all his confidence in thee.
+
+Captain	'Tis thought the king is dead; we will not stay.
+	The bay-trees in our country are all wither'd
+	And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven;
+	The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth
+	And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change;
+	Rich men look sad and ruffians dance and leap,
+	The one in fear to lose what they enjoy,
+	The other to enjoy by rage and war:
+	These signs forerun the death or fall of kings.
+	Farewell: our countrymen are gone and fled,
+	As well assured Richard their king is dead.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+EARL OF SALISBURY	Ah, Richard, with the eyes of heavy mind
+	I see thy glory like a shooting star
+	Fall to the base earth from the firmament.
+	Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west,
+	Witnessing storms to come, woe and unrest:
+	Thy friends are fled to wait upon thy foes,
+	And crossly to thy good all fortune goes.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Bristol. Before the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, DUKE OF YORK,
+	NORTHUMBERLAND, LORD ROSS, HENRY PERCY, LORD
+	WILLOUGHBY, with BUSHY and GREEN, prisoners]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Bring forth these men.
+	Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls--
+	Since presently your souls must part your bodies--
+	With too much urging your pernicious lives,
+	For 'twere no charity; yet, to wash your blood
+	From off my hands, here in the view of men
+	I will unfold some causes of your deaths.
+	You have misled a prince, a royal king,
+	A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
+	By you unhappied and disfigured clean:
+	You have in manner with your sinful hours
+	Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him,
+	Broke the possession of a royal bed
+	And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks
+	With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs.
+	Myself, a prince by fortune of my birth,
+	Near to the king in blood, and near in love
+	Till you did make him misinterpret me,
+	Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries,
+	And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds,
+	Eating the bitter bread of banishment;
+	Whilst you have fed upon my signories,
+	Dispark'd my parks and fell'd my forest woods,
+	From my own windows torn my household coat,
+	Razed out my imprese, leaving me no sign,
+	Save men's opinions and my living blood,
+	To show the world I am a gentleman.
+	This and much more, much more than twice all this,
+	Condemns you to the death. See them deliver'd over
+	To execution and the hand of death.
+
+BUSHY	More welcome is the stroke of death to me
+	Than Bolingbroke to England. Lords, farewell.
+
+GREEN	My comfort is that heaven will take our souls
+	And plague injustice with the pains of hell.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	My Lord Northumberland, see them dispatch'd.
+
+	[Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND and others, with the
+	prisoners]
+
+	Uncle, you say the queen is at your house;
+	For God's sake, fairly let her be entreated:
+	Tell her I send to her my kind commends;
+	Take special care my greetings be deliver'd.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	A gentleman of mine I have dispatch'd
+	With letters of your love to her at large.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Thank, gentle uncle. Come, lords, away.
+	To fight with Glendower and his complices:
+	Awhile to work, and after holiday.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The coast of Wales. A castle in view.
+
+
+	[Drums; flourish and colours. Enter KING RICHARD
+	II, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, DUKE OF AUMERLE, and Soldiers]
+
+KING RICHARD II	Barkloughly castle call they this at hand?
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Yea, my lord. How brooks your grace the air,
+	After your late tossing on the breaking seas?
+
+KING RICHARD II	Needs must I like it well: I weep for joy
+	To stand upon my kingdom once again.
+	Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand,
+	Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs:
+	As a long-parted mother with her child
+	Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting,
+	So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth,
+	And do thee favours with my royal hands.
+	Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth,
+	Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense;
+	But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom,
+	And heavy-gaited toads lie in their way,
+	Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet
+	Which with usurping steps do trample thee:
+	Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies;
+	And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower,
+	Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder
+	Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch
+	Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies.
+	Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords:
+	This earth shall have a feeling and these stones
+	Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king
+	Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms.
+
+BISHOP OF CARLISLE	Fear not, my lord: that Power that made you king
+	Hath power to keep you king in spite of all.
+	The means that heaven yields must be embraced,
+	And not neglected; else, if heaven would,
+	And we will not, heaven's offer we refuse,
+	The proffer'd means of succor and redress.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	He means, my lord, that we are too remiss;
+	Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security,
+	Grows strong and great in substance and in power.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Discomfortable cousin! know'st thou not
+	That when the searching eye of heaven is hid,
+	Behind the globe, that lights the lower world,
+	Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen
+	In murders and in outrage, boldly here;
+	But when from under this terrestrial ball
+	He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines
+	And darts his light through every guilty hole,
+	Then murders, treasons and detested sins,
+	The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs,
+	Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves?
+	So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke,
+	Who all this while hath revell'd in the night
+	Whilst we were wandering with the antipodes,
+	Shall see us rising in our throne, the east,
+	His treasons will sit blushing in his face,
+	Not able to endure the sight of day,
+	But self-affrighted tremble at his sin.
+	Not all the water in the rough rude sea
+	Can wash the balm off from an anointed king;
+	The breath of worldly men cannot depose
+	The deputy elected by the Lord:
+	For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd
+	To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown,
+	God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay
+	A glorious angel: then, if angels fight,
+	Weak men must fall, for heaven still guards the right.
+
+	[Enter EARL OF SALISBURY]
+
+	Welcome, my lord	how far off lies your power?
+
+EARL OF SALISBURY	Nor near nor farther off, my gracious lord,
+	Than this weak arm: discomfort guides my tongue
+	And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
+	One day too late, I fear me, noble lord,
+	Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth:
+	O, call back yesterday, bid time return,
+	And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men!
+	To-day, to-day, unhappy day, too late,
+	O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune and thy state:
+	For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead.
+	Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispersed and fled.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Comfort, my liege; why looks your grace so pale?
+
+KING RICHARD II	But now the blood of twenty thousand men
+	Did triumph in my face, and they are fled;
+	And, till so much blood thither come again,
+	Have I not reason to look pale and dead?
+	All souls that will be safe fly from my side,
+	For time hath set a blot upon my pride.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Comfort, my liege; remember who you are.
+
+KING RICHARD II	I had forgot myself; am I not king?
+	Awake, thou coward majesty! thou sleepest.
+	Is not the king's name twenty thousand names?
+	Arm, arm, my name! a puny subject strikes
+	At thy great glory. Look not to the ground,
+	Ye favourites of a king: are we not high?
+	High be our thoughts: I know my uncle York
+	Hath power enough to serve our turn. But who comes here?
+
+	[Enter SIR STEPHEN SCROOP]
+
+SIR STEPHEN SCROOP	More health and happiness betide my liege
+	Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him!
+
+KING RICHARD II	Mine ear is open and my heart prepared;
+	The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold.
+	Say, is my kingdom lost? why, 'twas my care
+	And what loss is it to be rid of care?
+	Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we?
+	Greater he shall not be; if he serve God,
+	We'll serve Him too and be his fellow so:
+	Revolt our subjects? that we cannot mend;
+	They break their faith to God as well as us:
+	Cry woe, destruction, ruin and decay:
+	The worst is death, and death will have his day.
+
+SIR STEPHEN SCROOP	Glad am I that your highness is so arm'd
+	To bear the tidings of calamity.
+	Like an unseasonable stormy day,
+	Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores,
+	As if the world were all dissolved to tears,
+	So high above his limits swells the rage
+	Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land
+	With hard bright steel and hearts harder than steel.
+	White-beards have arm'd their thin and hairless scalps
+	Against thy majesty; boys, with women's voices,
+	Strive to speak big and clap their female joints
+	In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown:
+	The very beadsmen learn to bend their bows
+	Of double-fatal yew against thy state;
+	Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills
+	Against thy seat: both young and old rebel,
+	And all goes worse than I have power to tell.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Too well, too well thou tell'st a tale so ill.
+	Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? where is Bagot?
+	What is become of Bushy? where is Green?
+	That they have let the dangerous enemy
+	Measure our confines with such peaceful steps?
+	If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it:
+	I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke.
+
+SIR STEPHEN SCROOP	Peace have they made with him indeed, my lord.
+
+KING RICHARD II	O villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption!
+	Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man!
+	Snakes, in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my heart!
+	Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas!
+	Would they make peace? terrible hell make war
+	Upon their spotted souls for this offence!
+
+SIR STEPHEN SCROOP	Sweet love, I see, changing his property,
+	Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate:
+	Again uncurse their souls; their peace is made
+	With heads, and not with hands; those whom you curse
+	Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound
+	And lie full low, graved in the hollow ground.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Is Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead?
+
+SIR STEPHEN SCROOP	Ay, all of them at Bristol lost their heads.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Where is the duke my father with his power?
+
+KING RICHARD II	No matter where; of comfort no man speak:
+	Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
+	Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes
+	Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth,
+	Let's choose executors and talk of wills:
+	And yet not so, for what can we bequeath
+	Save our deposed bodies to the ground?
+	Our lands, our lives and all are Bolingbroke's,
+	And nothing can we call our own but death
+	And that small model of the barren earth
+	Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
+	For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground
+	And tell sad stories of the death of kings;
+	How some have been deposed; some slain in war,
+	Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;
+	Some poison'd by their wives: some sleeping kill'd;
+	All murder'd: for within the hollow crown
+	That rounds the mortal temples of a king
+	Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits,
+	Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp,
+	Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
+	To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks,
+	Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
+	As if this flesh which walls about our life,
+	Were brass impregnable, and humour'd thus
+	Comes at the last and with a little pin
+	Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
+	Cover your heads and mock not flesh and blood
+	With solemn reverence: throw away respect,
+	Tradition, form and ceremonious duty,
+	For you have but mistook me all this while:
+	I live with bread like you, feel want,
+	Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus,
+	How can you say to me, I am a king?
+
+BISHOP OF CARLISLE	My lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes,
+	But presently prevent the ways to wail.
+	To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,
+	Gives in your weakness strength unto your foe,
+	And so your follies fight against yourself.
+	Fear and be slain; no worse can come to fight:
+	And fight and die is death destroying death;
+	Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	My father hath a power; inquire of him
+	And learn to make a body of a limb.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Thou chidest me well: proud Bolingbroke, I come
+	To change blows with thee for our day of doom.
+	This ague fit of fear is over-blown;
+	An easy task it is to win our own.
+	Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power?
+	Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour.
+
+SIR STEPHEN SCROOP	Men judge by the complexion of the sky
+	The state and inclination of the day:
+	So may you by my dull and heavy eye,
+	My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say.
+	I play the torturer, by small and small
+	To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken:
+	Your uncle York is join'd with Bolingbroke,
+	And all your northern castles yielded up,
+	And all your southern gentlemen in arms
+	Upon his party.
+
+KING RICHARD II	                  Thou hast said enough.
+	Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me forth
+
+	[To DUKE OF AUMERLE]
+
+	Of that sweet way I was in to despair!
+	What say you now? what comfort have we now?
+	By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly
+	That bids me be of comfort any more.
+	Go to Flint castle: there I'll pine away;
+	A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey.
+	That power I have, discharge; and let them go
+	To ear the land that hath some hope to grow,
+	For I have none: let no man speak again
+	To alter this, for counsel is but vain.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	My liege, one word.
+
+KING RICHARD II	He does me double wrong
+	That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
+	Discharge my followers: let them hence away,
+	From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Wales. Before Flint castle.
+
+
+	[Enter, with drum and colours, HENRY BOLINGBROKE,
+	DUKE OF YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, Attendants, and forces]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	So that by this intelligence we learn
+	The Welshmen are dispersed, and Salisbury
+	Is gone to meet the king, who lately landed
+	With some few private friends upon this coast.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	The news is very fair and good, my lord:
+	Richard not far from hence hath hid his head.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	It would beseem the Lord Northumberland
+	To say 'King Richard:' alack the heavy day
+	When such a sacred king should hide his head.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Your grace mistakes; only to be brief
+	Left I his title out.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	The time hath been,
+	Would you have been so brief with him, he would
+	Have been so brief with you, to shorten you,
+	For taking so the head, your whole head's length.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Mistake not, uncle, further than you should.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Take not, good cousin, further than you should.
+	Lest you mistake the heavens are o'er our heads.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	I know it, uncle, and oppose not myself
+	Against their will. But who comes here?
+
+	[Enter HENRY PERCY]
+
+	Welcome, Harry: what, will not this castle yield?
+
+HENRY PERCY	The castle royally is mann'd, my lord,
+	Against thy entrance.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Royally!
+	Why, it contains no king?
+
+HENRY PERCY	Yes, my good lord,
+	It doth contain a king; King Richard lies
+	Within the limits of yon lime and stone:
+	And with him are the Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury,
+	Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman
+	Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	O, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Noble lords,
+	Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle;
+	Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley
+	Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:
+	Henry Bolingbroke
+	On both his knees doth kiss King Richard's hand
+	And sends allegiance and true faith of heart
+	To his most royal person, hither come
+	Even at his feet to lay my arms and power,
+	Provided that my banishment repeal'd
+	And lands restored again be freely granted:
+	If not, I'll use the advantage of my power
+	And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood
+	Rain'd from the wounds of slaughter'd Englishmen:
+	The which, how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke
+	It is, such crimson tempest should bedrench
+	The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's land,
+	My stooping duty tenderly shall show.
+	Go, signify as much, while here we march
+	Upon the grassy carpet of this plain.
+	Let's march without the noise of threatening drum,
+	That from this castle's tatter'd battlements
+	Our fair appointments may be well perused.
+	Methinks King Richard and myself should meet
+	With no less terror than the elements
+	Of fire and water, when their thundering shock
+	At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven.
+	Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water:
+	The rage be his, whilst on the earth I rain
+	My waters; on the earth, and not on him.
+	March on, and mark King Richard how he looks.
+
+	[Parle without, and answer within. Then a flourish.
+	Enter on the walls, KING RICHARD II, the BISHOP OF
+	CARLISLE, DUKE OF AUMERLE, SIR STEPHEN SCROOP, and
+	EARL OF SALISBURY]
+
+	See, see, King Richard doth himself appear,
+	As doth the blushing discontented sun
+	From out the fiery portal of the east,
+	When he perceives the envious clouds are bent
+	To dim his glory and to stain the track
+	Of his bright passage to the occident.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Yet looks he like a king: behold, his eye,
+	As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth
+	Controlling majesty: alack, alack, for woe,
+	That any harm should stain so fair a show!
+
+KING RICHARD II	We are amazed; and thus long have we stood
+	To watch the fearful bending of thy knee,
+
+	[To NORTHUMBERLAND]
+
+	Because we thought ourself thy lawful king:
+	And if we be, how dare thy joints forget
+	To pay their awful duty to our presence?
+	If we be not, show us the hand of God
+	That hath dismissed us from our stewardship;
+	For well we know, no hand of blood and bone
+	Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre,
+	Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp.
+	And though you think that all, as you have done,
+	Have torn their souls by turning them from us,
+	And we are barren and bereft of friends;
+	Yet know, my master, God omnipotent,
+	Is mustering in his clouds on our behalf
+	Armies of pestilence; and they shall strike
+	Your children yet unborn and unbegot,
+	That lift your vassal hands against my head
+	And threat the glory of my precious crown.
+	Tell Bolingbroke--for yond methinks he stands--
+	That every stride he makes upon my land
+	Is dangerous treason: he is come to open
+	The purple testament of bleeding war;
+	But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,
+	Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons
+	Shall ill become the flower of England's face,
+	Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace
+	To scarlet indignation and bedew
+	Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	The king of heaven forbid our lord the king
+	Should so with civil and uncivil arms
+	Be rush'd upon! Thy thrice noble cousin
+	Harry Bolingbroke doth humbly kiss thy hand;
+	And by the honourable tomb he swears,
+	That stands upon your royal grandsire's bones,
+	And by the royalties of both your bloods,
+	Currents that spring from one most gracious head,
+	And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt,
+	And by the worth and honour of himself,
+	Comprising all that may be sworn or said,
+	His coming hither hath no further scope
+	Than for his lineal royalties and to beg
+	Enfranchisement immediate on his knees:
+	Which on thy royal party granted once,
+	His glittering arms he will commend to rust,
+	His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart
+	To faithful service of your majesty.
+	This swears he, as he is a prince, is just;
+	And, as I am a gentleman, I credit him.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Northumberland, say thus the king returns:
+	His noble cousin is right welcome hither;
+	And all the number of his fair demands
+	Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction:
+	With all the gracious utterance thou hast
+	Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends.
+	We do debase ourselves, cousin, do we not,
+
+	[To DUKE OF AUMERLE]
+
+	To look so poorly and to speak so fair?
+	Shall we call back Northumberland, and send
+	Defiance to the traitor, and so die?
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	No, good my lord; let's fight with gentle words
+	Till time lend friends and friends their helpful swords.
+
+KING RICHARD II	O God, O God! that e'er this tongue of mine,
+	That laid the sentence of dread banishment
+	On yon proud man, should take it off again
+	With words of sooth! O that I were as great
+	As is my grief, or lesser than my name!
+	Or that I could forget what I have been,
+	Or not remember what I must be now!
+	Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to beat,
+	Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke.
+
+KING RICHARD II	What must the king do now? must he submit?
+	The king shall do it: must he be deposed?
+	The king shall be contented: must he lose
+	The name of king? o' God's name, let it go:
+	I'll give my jewels for a set of beads,
+	My gorgeous palace for a hermitage,
+	My gay apparel for an almsman's gown,
+	My figured goblets for a dish of wood,
+	My sceptre for a palmer's walking staff,
+	My subjects for a pair of carved saints
+	And my large kingdom for a little grave,
+	A little little grave, an obscure grave;
+	Or I'll be buried in the king's highway,
+	Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet
+	May hourly trample on their sovereign's head;
+	For on my heart they tread now whilst I live;
+	And buried once, why not upon my head?
+	Aumerle, thou weep'st, my tender-hearted cousin!
+	We'll make foul weather with despised tears;
+	Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn,
+	And make a dearth in this revolting land.
+	Or shall we play the wantons with our woes,
+	And make some pretty match with shedding tears?
+	As thus, to drop them still upon one place,
+	Till they have fretted us a pair of graves
+	Within the earth; and, therein laid,--there lies
+	Two kinsmen digg'd their graves with weeping eyes.
+	Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I see
+	I talk but idly, and you laugh at me.
+	Most mighty prince, my Lord Northumberland,
+	What says King Bolingbroke? will his majesty
+	Give Richard leave to live till Richard die?
+	You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says ay.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	My lord, in the base court he doth attend
+	To speak with you; may it please you to come down.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Down, down I come; like glistering Phaethon,
+	Wanting the manage of unruly jades.
+	In the base court? Base court, where kings grow base,
+	To come at traitors' calls and do them grace.
+	In the base court? Come down? Down, court!
+	down, king!
+	For night-owls shriek where mounting larks
+	should sing.
+
+	[Exeunt from above]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	What says his majesty?
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Sorrow and grief of heart
+	Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man
+	Yet he is come.
+
+	[Enter KING RICHARD and his attendants below]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Stand all apart,
+	And show fair duty to his majesty.
+
+	[He kneels down]
+
+	My gracious lord,--
+
+KING RICHARD II	Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee
+	To make the base earth proud with kissing it:
+	Me rather had my heart might feel your love
+	Than my unpleased eye see your courtesy.
+	Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know,
+	Thus high at least, although your knee be low.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	My gracious lord, I come but for mine own.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	So far be mine, my most redoubted lord,
+	As my true service shall deserve your love.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Well you deserve: they well deserve to have,
+	That know the strong'st and surest way to get.
+	Uncle, give me your hands: nay, dry your eyes;
+	Tears show their love, but want their remedies.
+	Cousin, I am too young to be your father,
+	Though you are old enough to be my heir.
+	What you will have, I'll give, and willing too;
+	For do we must what force will have us do.
+	Set on towards London, cousin, is it so?
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Yea, my good lord.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Then I must not say no.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	LANGLEY. The DUKE OF YORK's garden.
+
+
+	[Enter the QUEEN and two Ladies]
+
+QUEEN	What sport shall we devise here in this garden,
+	To drive away the heavy thought of care?
+
+Lady	Madam, we'll play at bowls.
+
+QUEEN	'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs,
+	And that my fortune rubs against the bias.
+
+Lady	Madam, we'll dance.
+
+QUEEN	My legs can keep no measure in delight,
+	When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief:
+	Therefore, no dancing, girl; some other sport.
+
+Lady	Madam, we'll tell tales.
+
+QUEEN	Of sorrow or of joy?
+
+Lady	Of either, madam.
+
+QUEEN	Of neither, girl:
+	For of joy, being altogether wanting,
+	It doth remember me the more of sorrow;
+	Or if of grief, being altogether had,
+	It adds more sorrow to my want of joy:
+	For what I have I need not to repeat;
+	And what I want it boots not to complain.
+
+Lady	Madam, I'll sing.
+
+QUEEN	'Tis well that thou hast cause
+	But thou shouldst please me better, wouldst thou weep.
+
+Lady	I could weep, madam, would it do you good.
+
+QUEEN	And I could sing, would weeping do me good,
+	And never borrow any tear of thee.
+
+	[Enter a Gardener, and two Servants]
+
+	But stay, here come the gardeners:
+	Let's step into the shadow of these trees.
+	My wretchedness unto a row of pins,
+	They'll talk of state; for every one doth so
+	Against a change; woe is forerun with woe.
+
+	[QUEEN and Ladies retire]
+
+Gardener	Go, bind thou up yon dangling apricocks,
+	Which, like unruly children, make their sire
+	Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight:
+	Give some supportance to the bending twigs.
+	Go thou, and like an executioner,
+	Cut off the heads of too fast growing sprays,
+	That look too lofty in our commonwealth:
+	All must be even in our government.
+	You thus employ'd, I will go root away
+	The noisome weeds, which without profit suck
+	The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers.
+
+Servant	Why should we in the compass of a pale
+	Keep law and form and due proportion,
+	Showing, as in a model, our firm estate,
+	When our sea-walled garden, the whole land,
+	Is full of weeds, her fairest flowers choked up,
+	Her fruit-trees all upturned, her hedges ruin'd,
+	Her knots disorder'd and her wholesome herbs
+	Swarming with caterpillars?
+
+Gardener	Hold thy peace:
+	He that hath suffer'd this disorder'd spring
+	Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf:
+	The weeds which his broad-spreading leaves did shelter,
+	That seem'd in eating him to hold him up,
+	Are pluck'd up root and all by Bolingbroke,
+	I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green.
+
+Servant	What, are they dead?
+
+Gardener	They are; and Bolingbroke
+	Hath seized the wasteful king. O, what pity is it
+	That he had not so trimm'd and dress'd his land
+	As we this garden! We at time of year
+	Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit-trees,
+	Lest, being over-proud in sap and blood,
+	With too much riches it confound itself:
+	Had he done so to great and growing men,
+	They might have lived to bear and he to taste
+	Their fruits of duty: superfluous branches
+	We lop away, that bearing boughs may live:
+	Had he done so, himself had borne the crown,
+	Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down.
+
+Servant	What, think you then the king shall be deposed?
+
+Gardener	Depress'd he is already, and deposed
+	'Tis doubt he will be: letters came last night
+	To a dear friend of the good Duke of York's,
+	That tell black tidings.
+
+QUEEN	O, I am press'd to death through want of speaking!
+
+	[Coming forward]
+
+	Thou, old Adam's likeness, set to dress this garden,
+	How dares thy harsh rude tongue sound this unpleasing news?
+	What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested thee
+	To make a second fall of cursed man?
+	Why dost thou say King Richard is deposed?
+	Darest thou, thou little better thing than earth,
+	Divine his downfall? Say, where, when, and how,
+	Camest thou by this ill tidings? speak, thou wretch.
+
+Gardener	Pardon me, madam: little joy have I
+	To breathe this news; yet what I say is true.
+	King Richard, he is in the mighty hold
+	Of Bolingbroke: their fortunes both are weigh'd:
+	In your lord's scale is nothing but himself,
+	And some few vanities that make him light;
+	But in the balance of great Bolingbroke,
+	Besides himself, are all the English peers,
+	And with that odds he weighs King Richard down.
+	Post you to London, and you will find it so;
+	I speak no more than every one doth know.
+
+QUEEN	Nimble mischance, that art so light of foot,
+	Doth not thy embassage belong to me,
+	And am I last that knows it? O, thou think'st
+	To serve me last, that I may longest keep
+	Thy sorrow in my breast. Come, ladies, go,
+	To meet at London London's king in woe.
+	What, was I born to this, that my sad look
+	Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke?
+	Gardener, for telling me these news of woe,
+	Pray God the plants thou graft'st may never grow.
+
+	[Exeunt QUEEN and Ladies]
+
+GARDENER	Poor queen! so that thy state might be no worse,
+	I would my skill were subject to thy curse.
+	Here did she fall a tear; here in this place
+	I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace:
+	Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen,
+	In the remembrance of a weeping queen.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Westminster Hall.
+
+
+	[Enter, as to the Parliament, HENRY BOLINGBROKE,
+	DUKE OF AUMERLE, NORTHUMBERLAND, HENRY PERCY, LORD
+	FITZWATER, DUKE OF SURREY, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE,
+	the Abbot Of Westminster, and another Lord, Herald,
+	Officers, and BAGOT]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Call forth Bagot.
+	Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind;
+	What thou dost know of noble Gloucester's death,
+	Who wrought it with the king, and who perform'd
+	The bloody office of his timeless end.
+
+BAGOT	Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man.
+
+BAGOT	My Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue
+	Scorns to unsay what once it hath deliver'd.
+	In that dead time when Gloucester's death was plotted,
+	I heard you say, 'Is not my arm of length,
+	That reacheth from the restful English court
+	As far as Calais, to mine uncle's head?'
+	Amongst much other talk, that very time,
+	I heard you say that you had rather refuse
+	The offer of an hundred thousand crowns
+	Than Bolingbroke's return to England;
+	Adding withal how blest this land would be
+	In this your cousin's death.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Princes and noble lords,
+	What answer shall I make to this base man?
+	Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars,
+	On equal terms to give him chastisement?
+	Either I must, or have mine honour soil'd
+	With the attainder of his slanderous lips.
+	There is my gage, the manual seal of death,
+	That marks thee out for hell: I say, thou liest,
+	And will maintain what thou hast said is false
+	In thy heart-blood, though being all too base
+	To stain the temper of my knightly sword.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Excepting one, I would he were the best
+	In all this presence that hath moved me so.
+
+LORD FITZWATER	If that thy valour stand on sympathy,
+	There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine:
+	By that fair sun which shows me where thou stand'st,
+	I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spakest it
+	That thou wert cause of noble Gloucester's death.
+	If thou deny'st it twenty times, thou liest;
+	And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart,
+	Where it was forged, with my rapier's point.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Thou darest not, coward, live to see that day.
+
+LORD FITZWATER	Now by my soul, I would it were this hour.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Fitzwater, thou art damn'd to hell for this.
+
+HENRY PERCY	Aumerle, thou liest; his honour is as true
+	In this appeal as thou art all unjust;
+	And that thou art so, there I throw my gage,
+	To prove it on thee to the extremest point
+	Of mortal breathing: seize it, if thou darest.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	An if I do not, may my hands rot off
+	And never brandish more revengeful steel
+	Over the glittering helmet of my foe!
+
+Lord	I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle;
+	And spur thee on with full as many lies
+	As may be holloa'd in thy treacherous ear
+	From sun to sun: there is my honour's pawn;
+	Engage it to the trial, if thou darest.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Who sets me else? by heaven, I'll throw at all:
+	I have a thousand spirits in one breast,
+	To answer twenty thousand such as you.
+
+DUKE OF SURREY	My Lord Fitzwater, I do remember well
+	The very time Aumerle and you did talk.
+
+LORD FITZWATER	'Tis very true: you were in presence then;
+	And you can witness with me this is true.
+
+DUKE OF SURREY	As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is true.
+
+LORD FITZWATER	Surrey, thou liest.
+
+DUKE OF SURREY	Dishonourable boy!
+	That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword,
+	That it shall render vengeance and revenge
+	Till thou the lie-giver and that lie do lie
+	In earth as quiet as thy father's skull:
+	In proof whereof, there is my honour's pawn;
+	Engage it to the trial, if thou darest.
+
+LORD FITZWATER	How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse!
+	If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live,
+	I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness,
+	And spit upon him, whilst I say he lies,
+	And lies, and lies: there is my bond of faith,
+	To tie thee to my strong correction.
+	As I intend to thrive in this new world,
+	Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal:
+	Besides, I heard the banish'd Norfolk say
+	That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men
+	To execute the noble duke at Calais.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Some honest Christian trust me with a gage
+	That Norfolk lies: here do I throw down this,
+	If he may be repeal'd, to try his honour.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	These differences shall all rest under gage
+	Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be,
+	And, though mine enemy, restored again
+	To all his lands and signories: when he's return'd,
+	Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.
+
+BISHOP OF CARLISLE	That honourable day shall ne'er be seen.
+	Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought
+	For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field,
+	Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross
+	Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens:
+	And toil'd with works of war, retired himself
+	To Italy; and there at Venice gave
+	His body to that pleasant country's earth,
+	And his pure soul unto his captain Christ,
+	Under whose colours he had fought so long.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead?
+
+BISHOP OF CARLISLE	As surely as I live, my lord.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom
+	Of good old Abraham! Lords appellants,
+	Your differences shall all rest under gage
+	Till we assign you to your days of trial.
+
+	[Enter DUKE OF YORK, attended]
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
+	From plume-pluck'd Richard; who with willing soul
+	Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields
+	To the possession of thy royal hand:
+	Ascend his throne, descending now from him;
+	And long live Henry, fourth of that name!
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.
+
+BISHOP OF CARLISLE	Marry. God forbid!
+	Worst in this royal presence may I speak,
+	Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth.
+	Would God that any in this noble presence
+	Were enough noble to be upright judge
+	Of noble Richard! then true noblesse would
+	Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong.
+	What subject can give sentence on his king?
+	And who sits here that is not Richard's subject?
+	Thieves are not judged but they are by to hear,
+	Although apparent guilt be seen in them;
+	And shall the figure of God's majesty,
+	His captain, steward, deputy-elect,
+	Anointed, crowned, planted many years,
+	Be judged by subject and inferior breath,
+	And he himself not present? O, forfend it, God,
+	That in a Christian climate souls refined
+	Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed!
+	I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks,
+	Stirr'd up by God, thus boldly for his king:
+	My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call king,
+	Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king:
+	And if you crown him, let me prophesy:
+	The blood of English shall manure the ground,
+	And future ages groan for this foul act;
+	Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels,
+	And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars
+	Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound;
+	Disorder, horror, fear and mutiny
+	Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd
+	The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls.
+	O, if you raise this house against this house,
+	It will the woefullest division prove
+	That ever fell upon this cursed earth.
+	Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so,
+	Lest child, child's children, cry against you woe!
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Well have you argued, sir; and, for your pains,
+	Of capital treason we arrest you here.
+	My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge
+	To keep him safely till his day of trial.
+	May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Fetch hither Richard, that in common view
+	He may surrender; so we shall proceed
+	Without suspicion.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	                  I will be his conduct.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Lords, you that here are under our arrest,
+	Procure your sureties for your days of answer.
+	Little are we beholding to your love,
+	And little look'd for at your helping hands.
+
+	[Re-enter DUKE OF YORK, with KING RICHARD II, and
+	Officers bearing the regalia]
+
+KING RICHARD II	Alack, why am I sent for to a king,
+	Before I have shook off the regal thoughts
+	Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd
+	To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my limbs:
+	Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me
+	To this submission. Yet I well remember
+	The favours of these men: were they not mine?
+	Did they not sometime cry, 'all hail!' to me?
+	So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve,
+	Found truth in all but one: I, in twelve thousand, none.
+	God save the king! Will no man say amen?
+	Am I both priest and clerk? well then, amen.
+	God save the king! although I be not he;
+	And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me.
+	To do what service am I sent for hither?
+
+DUKE OF YORK	To do that office of thine own good will
+	Which tired majesty did make thee offer,
+	The resignation of thy state and crown
+	To Henry Bolingbroke.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown;
+	Here cousin:
+	On this side my hand, and on that side yours.
+	Now is this golden crown like a deep well
+	That owes two buckets, filling one another,
+	The emptier ever dancing in the air,
+	The other down, unseen and full of water:
+	That bucket down and full of tears am I,
+	Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	I thought you had been willing to resign.
+
+KING RICHARD II	My crown I am; but still my griefs are mine:
+	You may my glories and my state depose,
+	But not my griefs; still am I king of those.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Part of your cares you give me with your crown.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down.
+	My care is loss of care, by old care done;
+	Your care is gain of care, by new care won:
+	The cares I give I have, though given away;
+	They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Are you contented to resign the crown?
+
+KING RICHARD II	Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be;
+	Therefore no no, for I resign to thee.
+	Now mark me, how I will undo myself;
+	I give this heavy weight from off my head
+	And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
+	The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;
+	With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
+	With mine own hands I give away my crown,
+	With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
+	With mine own breath release all duty's rites:
+	All pomp and majesty I do forswear;
+	My manors, rents, revenues I forego;
+	My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny:
+	God pardon all oaths that are broke to me!
+	God keep all vows unbroke that swear to thee!
+	Make me, that nothing have, with nothing grieved,
+	And thou with all pleased, that hast all achieved!
+	Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit,
+	And soon lie Richard in an earthly pit!
+	God save King Harry, unking'd Richard says,
+	And send him many years of sunshine days!
+	What more remains?
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	                  No more, but that you read
+	These accusations and these grievous crimes
+	Committed by your person and your followers
+	Against the state and profit of this land;
+	That, by confessing them, the souls of men
+	May deem that you are worthily deposed.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Must I do so? and must I ravel out
+	My weaved-up folly? Gentle Northumberland,
+	If thy offences were upon record,
+	Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop
+	To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst,
+	There shouldst thou find one heinous article,
+	Containing the deposing of a king
+	And cracking the strong warrant of an oath,
+	Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaven:
+	Nay, all of you that stand and look upon,
+	Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself,
+	Though some of you with Pilate wash your hands
+	Showing an outward pity; yet you Pilates
+	Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross,
+	And water cannot wash away your sin.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	My lord, dispatch; read o'er these articles.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see:
+	And yet salt water blinds them not so much
+	But they can see a sort of traitors here.
+	Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself,
+	I find myself a traitor with the rest;
+	For I have given here my soul's consent
+	To undeck the pompous body of a king;
+	Made glory base and sovereignty a slave,
+	Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	My lord,--
+
+KING RICHARD II	No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man,
+	Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title,
+	No, not that name was given me at the font,
+	But 'tis usurp'd: alack the heavy day,
+	That I have worn so many winters out,
+	And know not now what name to call myself!
+	O that I were a mockery king of snow,
+	Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke,
+	To melt myself away in water-drops!
+	Good king, great king, and yet not greatly good,
+	An if my word be sterling yet in England,
+	Let it command a mirror hither straight,
+	That it may show me what a face I have,
+	Since it is bankrupt of his majesty.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Go some of you and fetch a looking-glass.
+
+	[Exit an attendant]
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Fiend, thou torment'st me ere I come to hell!
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	The commons will not then be satisfied.
+
+KING RICHARD II	They shall be satisfied: I'll read enough,
+	When I do see the very book indeed
+	Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself.
+
+	[Re-enter Attendant, with a glass]
+
+	Give me the glass, and therein will I read.
+	No deeper wrinkles yet? hath sorrow struck
+	So many blows upon this face of mine,
+	And made no deeper wounds? O flattering glass,
+	Like to my followers in prosperity,
+	Thou dost beguile me! Was this face the face
+	That every day under his household roof
+	Did keep ten thousand men? was this the face
+	That, like the sun, did make beholders wink?
+	Was this the face that faced so many follies,
+	And was at last out-faced by Bolingbroke?
+	A brittle glory shineth in this face:
+	As brittle as the glory is the face;
+
+	[Dashes the glass against the ground]
+
+	For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers.
+	Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport,
+	How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd
+	The shadow or your face.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Say that again.
+	The shadow of my sorrow! ha! let's see:
+	'Tis very true, my grief lies all within;
+	And these external manners of laments
+	Are merely shadows to the unseen grief
+	That swells with silence in the tortured soul;
+	There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king,
+	For thy great bounty, that not only givest
+	Me cause to wail but teachest me the way
+	How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon,
+	And then be gone and trouble you no more.
+	Shall I obtain it?
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	                  Name it, fair cousin.
+
+KING RICHARD II	'Fair cousin'? I am greater than a king:
+	For when I was a king, my flatterers
+	Were then but subjects; being now a subject,
+	I have a king here to my flatterer.
+	Being so great, I have no need to beg.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Yet ask.
+
+KING RICHARD II	And shall I have?
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	You shall.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Then give me leave to go.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Whither?
+
+KING RICHARD II	Whither you will, so I were from your sights.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Go, some of you convey him to the Tower.
+
+KING RICHARD II	O, good! convey? conveyers are you all,
+	That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.
+
+	[Exeunt KING RICHARD II, some Lords, and a Guard]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	On Wednesday next we solemnly set down
+	Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves.
+
+	[Exeunt all except the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, the Abbot
+	of Westminster, and DUKE OF AUMERLE]
+
+Abbot	A woeful pageant have we here beheld.
+
+BISHOP OF CARLISLE	The woe's to come; the children yet unborn.
+	Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	You holy clergymen, is there no plot
+	To rid the realm of this pernicious blot?
+
+Abbot	My lord,
+	Before I freely speak my mind herein,
+	You shall not only take the sacrament
+	To bury mine intents, but also to effect
+	Whatever I shall happen to devise.
+	I see your brows are full of discontent,
+	Your hearts of sorrow and your eyes of tears:
+	Come home with me to supper; and I'll lay
+	A plot shall show us all a merry day.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. A street leading to the Tower.
+
+
+	[Enter QUEEN and Ladies]
+
+QUEEN	This way the king will come; this is the way
+	To Julius Caesar's ill-erected tower,
+	To whose flint bosom my condemned lord
+	Is doom'd a prisoner by proud Bolingbroke:
+	Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth
+	Have any resting for her true king's queen.
+
+	[Enter KING RICHARD II and Guard]
+
+	But soft, but see, or rather do not see,
+	My fair rose wither: yet look up, behold,
+	That you in pity may dissolve to dew,
+	And wash him fresh again with true-love tears.
+	Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand,
+	Thou map of honour, thou King Richard's tomb,
+	And not King Richard; thou most beauteous inn,
+	Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodged in thee,
+	When triumph is become an alehouse guest?
+
+KING RICHARD II	Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so,
+	To make my end too sudden: learn, good soul,
+	To think our former state a happy dream;
+	From which awaked, the truth of what we are
+	Shows us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet,
+	To grim Necessity, and he and I
+	Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France
+	And cloister thee in some religious house:
+	Our holy lives must win a new world's crown,
+	Which our profane hours here have stricken down.
+
+QUEEN	What, is my Richard both in shape and mind
+	Transform'd and weaken'd? hath Bolingbroke deposed
+	Thine intellect? hath he been in thy heart?
+	The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw,
+	And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage
+	To be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like,
+	Take thy correction mildly, kiss the rod,
+	And fawn on rage with base humility,
+	Which art a lion and a king of beasts?
+
+KING RICHARD II	A king of beasts, indeed; if aught but beasts,
+	I had been still a happy king of men.
+	Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for France:
+	Think I am dead and that even here thou takest,
+	As from my death-bed, thy last living leave.
+	In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire
+	With good old folks and let them tell thee tales
+	Of woeful ages long ago betid;
+	And ere thou bid good night, to quit their griefs,
+	Tell thou the lamentable tale of me
+	And send the hearers weeping to their beds:
+	For why, the senseless brands will sympathize
+	The heavy accent of thy moving tongue
+	And in compassion weep the fire out;
+	And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
+	For the deposing of a rightful king.
+
+	[Enter NORTHUMBERLAND and others]
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is changed:
+	You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.
+	And, madam, there is order ta'en for you;
+	With all swift speed you must away to France.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal
+	The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,
+	The time shall not be many hours of age
+	More than it is ere foul sin gathering head
+	Shalt break into corruption: thou shalt think,
+	Though he divide the realm and give thee half,
+	It is too little, helping him to all;
+	And he shall think that thou, which know'st the way
+	To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,
+	Being ne'er so little urged, another way
+	To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne.
+	The love of wicked men converts to fear;
+	That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both
+	To worthy danger and deserved death.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	My guilt be on my head, and there an end.
+	Take leave and part; for you must part forthwith.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Doubly divorced! Bad men, you violate
+	A twofold marriage, 'twixt my crown and me,
+	And then betwixt me and my married wife.
+	Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me;
+	And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made.
+	Part us, Northumberland; I toward the north,
+	Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime;
+	My wife to France: from whence, set forth in pomp,
+	She came adorned hither like sweet May,
+	Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day.
+
+QUEEN	And must we be divided? must we part?
+
+KING RICHARD II	Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart.
+
+QUEEN	Banish us both and send the king with me.
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	That were some love but little policy.
+
+QUEEN	Then whither he goes, thither let me go.
+
+KING RICHARD II	So two, together weeping, make one woe.
+	Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here;
+	Better far off than near, be ne'er the near.
+	Go, count thy way with sighs; I mine with groans.
+
+QUEEN	So longest way shall have the longest moans.
+
+KING RICHARD II	Twice for one step I'll groan, the way being short,
+	And piece the way out with a heavy heart.
+	Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief,
+	Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief;
+	One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part;
+	Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart.
+
+QUEEN	Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part
+	To take on me to keep and kill thy heart.
+	So, now I have mine own again, be gone,
+	That I might strive to kill it with a groan.
+
+KING RICHARD II	We make woe wanton with this fond delay:
+	Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The DUKE OF YORK's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter DUKE OF YORK and DUCHESS OF YORK]
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	My lord, you told me you would tell the rest,
+	When weeping made you break the story off,
+	of our two cousins coming into London.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Where did I leave?
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	                  At that sad stop, my lord,
+	Where rude misgovern'd hands from windows' tops
+	Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Then, as I said, the duke, great Bolingbroke,
+	Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed
+	Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know,
+	With slow but stately pace kept on his course,
+	Whilst all tongues cried 'God save thee,
+	Bolingbroke!'
+	You would have thought the very windows spake,
+	So many greedy looks of young and old
+	Through casements darted their desiring eyes
+	Upon his visage, and that all the walls
+	With painted imagery had said at once
+	'Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke!'
+	Whilst he, from the one side to the other turning,
+	Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck,
+	Bespake them thus: 'I thank you, countrymen:'
+	And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Alack, poor Richard! where rode he the whilst?
+
+DUKE OF YORK	As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
+	After a well-graced actor leaves the stage,
+	Are idly bent on him that enters next,
+	Thinking his prattle to be tedious;
+	Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes
+	Did scowl on gentle Richard; no man cried 'God save him!'
+	No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home:
+	But dust was thrown upon his sacred head:
+	Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,
+	His face still combating with tears and smiles,
+	The badges of his grief and patience,
+	That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd
+	The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted
+	And barbarism itself have pitied him.
+	But heaven hath a hand in these events,
+	To whose high will we bound our calm contents.
+	To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now,
+	Whose state and honour I for aye allow.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Here comes my son Aumerle.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Aumerle that was;
+	But that is lost for being Richard's friend,
+	And, madam, you must call him Rutland now:
+	I am in parliament pledge for his truth
+	And lasting fealty to the new-made king.
+
+	[Enter DUKE OF AUMERLE]
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Welcome, my son: who are the violets now
+	That strew the green lap of the new come spring?
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not:
+	God knows I had as lief be none as one.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Well, bear you well in this new spring of time,
+	Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime.
+	What news from Oxford? hold those justs and triumphs?
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	For aught I know, my lord, they do.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	You will be there, I know.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	If God prevent not, I purpose so.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	What seal is that, that hangs without thy bosom?
+	Yea, look'st thou pale? let me see the writing.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	My lord, 'tis nothing.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	No matter, then, who see it;
+	I will be satisfied; let me see the writing.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	I do beseech your grace to pardon me:
+	It is a matter of small consequence,
+	Which for some reasons I would not have seen.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see.
+	I fear, I fear,--
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	                  What should you fear?
+	'Tis nothing but some bond, that he is enter'd into
+	For gay apparel 'gainst the triumph day.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Bound to himself! what doth he with a bond
+	That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.
+	Boy, let me see the writing.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	I do beseech you, pardon me; I may not show it.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	I will be satisfied; let me see it, I say.
+
+	[He plucks it out of his bosom and reads it]
+
+	Treason! foul treason! Villain! traitor! slave!
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	What is the matter, my lord?
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Ho! who is within there?
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+		    Saddle my horse.
+	God for his mercy, what treachery is here!
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Why, what is it, my lord?
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Give me my boots, I say; saddle my horse.
+	Now, by mine honour, by my life, by my troth,
+	I will appeach the villain.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	What is the matter?
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Peace, foolish woman.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	I will not peace. What is the matter, Aumerle.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Good mother, be content; it is no more
+	Than my poor life must answer.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Thy life answer!
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Bring me my boots: I will unto the king.
+
+	[Re-enter Servant with boots]
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Strike him, Aumerle. Poor boy, thou art amazed.
+	Hence, villain! never more come in my sight.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Give me my boots, I say.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Why, York, what wilt thou do?
+	Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own?
+	Have we more sons? or are we like to have?
+	Is not my teeming date drunk up with time?
+	And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age,
+	And rob me of a happy mother's name?
+	Is he not like thee? is he not thine own?
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Thou fond mad woman,
+	Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy?
+	A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament,
+	And interchangeably set down their hands,
+	To kill the king at Oxford.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	He shall be none;
+	We'll keep him here: then what is that to him?
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Away, fond woman! were he twenty times my son,
+	I would appeach him.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Hadst thou groan'd for him
+	As I have done, thou wouldst be more pitiful.
+	But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect
+	That I have been disloyal to thy bed,
+	And that he is a bastard, not thy son:
+	Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind:
+	He is as like thee as a man may be,
+	Not like to me, or any of my kin,
+	And yet I love him.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Make way, unruly woman!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	After, Aumerle! mount thee upon his horse;
+	Spur post, and get before him to the king,
+	And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee.
+	I'll not be long behind; though I be old,
+	I doubt not but to ride as fast as York:
+	And never will I rise up from the ground
+	Till Bolingbroke have pardon'd thee. Away, be gone!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A royal palace.
+
+
+	[Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, HENRY PERCY, and other Lords]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Can no man tell me of my unthrifty son?
+	'Tis full three months since I did see him last;
+	If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.
+	I would to God, my lords, he might be found:
+	Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there,
+	For there, they say, he daily doth frequent,
+	With unrestrained loose companions,
+	Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes,
+	And beat our watch, and rob our passengers;
+	Which he, young wanton and effeminate boy,
+	Takes on the point of honour to support
+	So dissolute a crew.
+
+HENRY PERCY	My lord, some two days since I saw the prince,
+	And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	And what said the gallant?
+
+HENRY PERCY	His answer was, he would unto the stews,
+	And from the common'st creature pluck a glove,
+	And wear it as a favour; and with that
+	He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	As dissolute as desperate; yet through both
+	I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years
+	May happily bring forth. But who comes here?
+
+	[Enter DUKE OF AUMERLE]
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Where is the king?
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	What means our cousin, that he stares and looks
+	So wildly?
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	God save your grace! I do beseech your majesty,
+	To have some conference with your grace alone.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.
+
+	[Exeunt HENRY PERCY and Lords]
+
+	What is the matter with our cousin now?
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	For ever may my knees grow to the earth,
+	My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth
+	Unless a pardon ere I rise or speak.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Intended or committed was this fault?
+	If on the first, how heinous e'er it be,
+	To win thy after-love I pardon thee.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Then give me leave that I may turn the key,
+	That no man enter till my tale be done.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Have thy desire.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	[Within]  My liege, beware; look to thyself;
+	Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Villain, I'll make thee safe.
+
+	[Drawing]
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Stay thy revengeful hand; thou hast no cause to fear.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	[Within]  Open the door, secure, foolhardy king:
+	Shall I for love speak treason to thy face?
+	Open the door, or I will break it open.
+
+	[Enter DUKE OF YORK]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	What is the matter, uncle? speak;
+	Recover breath; tell us how near is danger,
+	That we may arm us to encounter it.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know
+	The treason that my haste forbids me show.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise pass'd:
+	I do repent me; read not my name there
+	My heart is not confederate with my hand.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	It was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down.
+	I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king;
+	Fear, and not love, begets his penitence:
+	Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove
+	A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	O heinous, strong and bold conspiracy!
+	O loyal father of a treacherous son!
+	Thou sheer, immaculate and silver fountain,
+	From when this stream through muddy passages
+	Hath held his current and defiled himself!
+	Thy overflow of good converts to bad,
+	And thy abundant goodness shall excuse
+	This deadly blot in thy digressing son.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd;
+	And he shall spend mine honour with his shame,
+	As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold.
+	Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies,
+	Or my shamed life in his dishonour lies:
+	Thou kill'st me in his life; giving him breath,
+	The traitor lives, the true man's put to death.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	[Within]  What ho, my liege! for God's sake,
+	let me in.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry?
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	A woman, and thy aunt, great king; 'tis I.
+	Speak with me, pity me, open the door.
+	A beggar begs that never begg'd before.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Our scene is alter'd from a serious thing,
+	And now changed to 'The Beggar and the King.'
+	My dangerous cousin, let your mother in:
+	I know she is come to pray for your foul sin.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	If thou do pardon, whosoever pray,
+	More sins for this forgiveness prosper may.
+	This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rest sound;
+	This let alone will all the rest confound.
+
+	[Enter DUCHESS OF YORK]
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	O king, believe not this hard-hearted man!
+	Love loving not itself none other can.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here?
+	Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear?
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Sweet York, be patient. Hear me, gentle liege.
+
+	[Kneels]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Rise up, good aunt.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Not yet, I thee beseech:
+	For ever will I walk upon my knees,
+	And never see day that the happy sees,
+	Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy,
+	By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy.
+
+DUKE OF AUMERLE	Unto my mother's prayers I bend my knee.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Against them both my true joints bended be.
+	Ill mayst thou thrive, if thou grant any grace!
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face;
+	His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest;
+	His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast:
+	He prays but faintly and would be denied;
+	We pray with heart and soul and all beside:
+	His weary joints would gladly rise, I know;
+	Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow:
+	His prayers are full of false hypocrisy;
+	Ours of true zeal and deep integrity.
+	Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them have
+	That mercy which true prayer ought to have.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Good aunt, stand up.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Nay, do not say, 'stand up;'
+	Say, 'pardon' first, and afterwards 'stand up.'
+	And if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,
+	'Pardon' should be the first word of thy speech.
+	I never long'd to hear a word till now;
+	Say 'pardon,' king; let pity teach thee how:
+	The word is short, but not so short as sweet;
+	No word like 'pardon' for kings' mouths so meet.
+
+DUKE OF YORK	Speak it in French, king; say, 'pardonne moi.'
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy?
+	Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord,
+	That set'st the word itself against the word!
+	Speak 'pardon' as 'tis current in our land;
+	The chopping French we do not understand.
+	Thine eye begins to speak; set thy tongue there;
+	Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear;
+	That hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce,
+	Pity may move thee 'pardon' to rehearse.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Good aunt, stand up.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	I do not sue to stand;
+	Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	O happy vantage of a kneeling knee!
+	Yet am I sick for fear: speak it again;
+	Twice saying 'pardon' doth not pardon twain,
+	But makes one pardon strong.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	With all my heart
+	I pardon him.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	                  A god on earth thou art.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	But for our trusty brother-in-law and the abbot,
+	With all the rest of that consorted crew,
+	Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels.
+	Good uncle, help to order several powers
+	To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are:
+	They shall not live within this world, I swear,
+	But I will have them, if I once know where.
+	Uncle, farewell: and, cousin too, adieu:
+	Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Come, my old son: I pray God make thee new.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter EXTON and Servant]
+
+EXTON	Didst thou not mark the king, what words he spake,
+	'Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?'
+	Was it not so?
+
+Servant	                  These were his very words.
+
+EXTON	'Have I no friend?' quoth he: he spake it twice,
+	And urged it twice together, did he not?
+
+Servant	He did.
+
+EXTON	And speaking it, he wistly look'd on me,
+	And who should say, 'I would thou wert the man'
+	That would divorce this terror from my heart;'
+	Meaning the king at Pomfret. Come, let's go:
+	I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Pomfret castle.
+
+
+	[Enter KING RICHARD]
+
+KING RICHARD II	I have been studying how I may compare
+	This prison where I live unto the world:
+	And for because the world is populous
+	And here is not a creature but myself,
+	I cannot do it; yet I'll hammer it out.
+	My brain I'll prove the female to my soul,
+	My soul the father; and these two beget
+	A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
+	And these same thoughts people this little world,
+	In humours like the people of this world,
+	For no thought is contented. The better sort,
+	As thoughts of things divine, are intermix'd
+	With scruples and do set the word itself
+	Against the word:
+	As thus, 'Come, little ones,' and then again,
+	'It is as hard to come as for a camel
+	To thread the postern of a small needle's eye.'
+	Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot
+	Unlikely wonders; how these vain weak nails
+	May tear a passage through the flinty ribs
+	Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls,
+	And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.
+	Thoughts tending to content flatter themselves
+	That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,
+	Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars
+	Who sitting in the stocks refuge their shame,
+	That many have and others must sit there;
+	And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
+	Bearing their own misfortunes on the back
+	Of such as have before endured the like.
+	Thus play I in one person many people,
+	And none contented: sometimes am I king;
+	Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar,
+	And so I am: then crushing penury
+	Persuades me I was better when a king;
+	Then am I king'd again: and by and by
+	Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke,
+	And straight am nothing: but whate'er I be,
+	Nor I nor any man that but man is
+	With nothing shall be pleased, till he be eased
+	With being nothing. Music do I hear?
+
+	[Music]
+
+	Ha, ha! keep time: how sour sweet music is,
+	When time is broke and no proportion kept!
+	So is it in the music of men's lives.
+	And here have I the daintiness of ear
+	To cheque time broke in a disorder'd string;
+	But for the concord of my state and time
+	Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
+	I wasted time, and now doth time waste me;
+	For now hath time made me his numbering clock:
+	My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar
+	Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,
+	Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,
+	Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
+	Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is
+	Are clamorous groans, which strike upon my heart,
+	Which is the bell: so sighs and tears and groans
+	Show minutes, times, and hours: but my time
+	Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
+	While I stand fooling here, his Jack o' the clock.
+	This music mads me; let it sound no more;
+	For though it have holp madmen to their wits,
+	In me it seems it will make wise men mad.
+	Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me!
+	For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard
+	Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world.
+
+	[Enter a Groom of the Stable]
+
+Groom	Hail, royal prince!
+
+KING RICHARD II	Thanks, noble peer;
+	The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.
+	What art thou? and how comest thou hither,
+	Where no man never comes but that sad dog
+	That brings me food to make misfortune live?
+
+Groom	I was a poor groom of thy stable, king,
+	When thou wert king; who, travelling towards York,
+	With much ado at length have gotten leave
+	To look upon my sometimes royal master's face.
+	O, how it yearn'd my heart when I beheld
+	In London streets, that coronation-day,
+	When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary,
+	That horse that thou so often hast bestrid,
+	That horse that I so carefully have dress'd!
+
+KING RICHARD II	Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend,
+	How went he under him?
+
+Groom	So proudly as if he disdain'd the ground.
+
+KING RICHARD II	So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back!
+	That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand;
+	This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.
+	Would he not stumble? would he not fall down,
+	Since pride must have a fall, and break the neck
+	Of that proud man that did usurp his back?
+	Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee,
+	Since thou, created to be awed by man,
+	Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse;
+	And yet I bear a burthen like an ass,
+	Spurr'd, gall'd and tired by jouncing Bolingbroke.
+
+	[Enter Keeper, with a dish]
+
+Keeper	Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay.
+
+KING RICHARD II	If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away.
+
+Groom	What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Keeper	My lord, will't please you to fall to?
+
+KING RICHARD II	Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do.
+
+Keeper	My lord, I dare not: Sir Pierce of Exton, who
+	lately came from the king, commands the contrary.
+
+KING RICHARD II	The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee!
+	Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.
+
+	[Beats the keeper]
+
+Keeper	Help, help, help!
+
+	[Enter EXTON and Servants, armed]
+
+KING RICHARD II	How now! what means death in this rude assault?
+	Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument.
+
+	[Snatching an axe from a Servant and killing him]
+
+	Go thou, and fill another room in hell.
+
+	[He kills another. Then Exton strikes him down]
+
+	That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire
+	That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand
+	Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's own land.
+	Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high;
+	Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+EXTON	As full of valour as of royal blood:
+	Both have I spill'd; O would the deed were good!
+	For now the devil, that told me I did well,
+	Says that this deed is chronicled in hell.
+	This dead king to the living king I'll bear
+	Take hence the rest, and give them burial here.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD II
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Windsor castle.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, DUKE OF YORK,
+	with other Lords, and Attendants]
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear
+	Is that the rebels have consumed with fire
+	Our town of Cicester in Gloucestershire;
+	But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not.
+
+	[Enter NORTHUMBERLAND]
+
+	Welcome, my lord	what is the news?
+
+NORTHUMBERLAND	First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness.
+	The next news is, I have to London sent
+	The heads of Oxford, Salisbury, Blunt, and Kent:
+	The manner of their taking may appear
+	At large discoursed in this paper here.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains;
+	And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.
+
+	[Enter LORD FITZWATER]
+
+LORD FITZWATER	My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London
+	The heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely,
+	Two of the dangerous consorted traitors
+	That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot;
+	Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.
+
+	[Enter HENRY PERCY, and the BISHOP OF CARLISLE]
+
+HENRY PERCY	The grand conspirator, Abbot of Westminster,
+	With clog of conscience and sour melancholy
+	Hath yielded up his body to the grave;
+	But here is Carlisle living, to abide
+	Thy kingly doom and sentence of his pride.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Carlisle, this is your doom:
+	Choose out some secret place, some reverend room,
+	More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life;
+	So as thou livest in peace, die free from strife:
+	For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,
+	High sparks of honour in thee have I seen.
+
+	[Enter EXTON, with persons bearing a coffin]
+
+EXTON	Great king, within this coffin I present
+	Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies
+	The mightiest of thy greatest enemies,
+	Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	Exton, I thank thee not; for thou hast wrought
+	A deed of slander with thy fatal hand
+	Upon my head and all this famous land.
+
+EXTON	From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed.
+
+HENRY BOLINGBROKE	They love not poison that do poison need,
+	Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead,
+	I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
+	The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
+	But neither my good word nor princely favour:
+	With Cain go wander through shades of night,
+	And never show thy head by day nor light.
+	Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe,
+	That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow:
+	Come, mourn with me for that I do lament,
+	And put on sullen black incontinent:
+	I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land,
+	To wash this blood off from my guilty hand:
+	March sadly after; grace my mournings here;
+	In weeping after this untimely bier.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+KING EDWARD
+The Fourth	(KING EDWARD IV:)
+
+
+EDWARD	Prince of Wales, (PRINCE EDWARD:)	|
+	afterwards King Edward V.,	|  sons to
+			|  the King.
+RICHARD	Duke of York, (YORK:)	|
+
+
+GEORGE	Duke of Clarence, (CLARENCE:)	|
+			|
+RICHARD	Duke of Gloucester, (GLOUCESTER:)  	|  Brothers to
+	afterwards King Richard III.,	|  the King.
+	(KING RICHARD III:)		|
+
+
+	A young son of Clarence. (Boy:)
+
+HENRY	Earl of Richmond, (RICHMOND:)
+	afterwards King Henry VII.
+
+CARDINAL BOURCHIER	Archbishop of Canterbury. (CARDINAL:)
+
+THOMAS ROTHERHAM	Archbishop of York. (ARCHBISHOP OF YORK:)
+
+JOHN MORTON	Bishop of Ely. (BISHOP OF ELY:)
+
+DUKE of BUCKINGHAM	(BUCKINGHAM:)
+
+DUKE of NORFOLK	(NORFOLK:)
+
+EARL of SURREY	His son. (SURREY:)
+
+EARL RIVERS	Brother to Elizabeth. (RIVERS:)
+
+
+MARQUIS OF DORSET	(DORSET:)	|
+		|  Sons to Elizabeth.
+LORD GREY	(GREY:)	|
+
+
+EARL of OXFORD	(OXFORD:)
+
+LORD HASTINGS	(HASTINGS:)
+
+LORD STANLEY	(STANLEY:)  Called also EARL of DERBY. (DERBY:)
+
+LORD LOVEL	(LOVEL:)
+
+SIR THOMAS VAUGHAN	(VAUGHAN:)
+
+SIR RICHARD
+RATCLIFF	(RATCLIFF:)
+
+SIR WILLIAM
+CATESBY	(CATESBY:)
+
+SIR JAMES TYRREL	(TYRREL:)
+
+SIR JAMES BLOUNT	(BLOUNT:)
+
+SIR WALTER HERBERT	(HERBERT:)
+
+SIR ROBERT
+BRAKENBURY	Lieutenant of the Tower. (BRAKENBURY:)
+
+CHRISTOPHER
+URSWICK	A priest. (CHRISTOPHER:)
+
+	Another Priest. (Priest:)
+
+
+TRESSEL	|
+	|  Gentlemen attending on the Lady Anne.
+BERKELEY	|  (Gentleman:)
+
+
+	Lord Mayor of London. (Lord Mayor:)
+
+	Sheriff of Wiltshire. (Sheriff:)
+
+ELIZABETH	Queen to King Edward IV. (QUEEN ELIZABETH:)
+
+MARGARET	Widow of King Henry VI. (QUEEN MARGARET:)
+
+DUCHESS of YORK	Mother to King Edward IV.
+
+LADY ANNE	Widow of Edward Prince of Wales, son to King Henry VI.;
+	afterwards married to Richard.
+
+	A young Daughter of Clarence [MARGARET PLANTAGENET] (Girl:)
+
+	Ghosts of those murdered by Richard III.,
+	Lords and other Attendants; a Pursuivant
+	Scrivener, Citizens, Murderers, Messengers
+	Soldiers, &c.
+	(Ghost of Prince Edward:)
+	(Ghost of King Henry VI:)
+	(Ghost of CLARENCE:)
+	(Ghost of RIVERS:)
+	(Ghost of GREY:)
+	(Ghost of VAUGHAN:)
+	(Ghost of HASTING:)
+	(Ghosts of young Princes:)
+	(Ghost of LADY ANNE:)
+	(Ghost of BUCKINGHAM:)
+	(Pursuivant:)
+	(Scrivener:)
+	(First Citizen:)
+	(Second Citizen:)
+	(Third Citizen:)
+	(First Murderer:)
+	(Second Murderer:)
+	(Messenger:)
+	(Second Messenger:)
+	(Third Messenger:)
+	(Fourth Messenger:)
+
+
+SCENE	England.
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. A street.
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, solus]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Now is the winter of our discontent
+	Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
+	And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
+	In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
+	Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
+	Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
+	Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
+	Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
+	Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
+	And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
+	To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
+	He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
+	To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
+	But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
+	Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
+	I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
+	To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
+	I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
+	Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
+	Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
+	Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
+	And that so lamely and unfashionable
+	That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
+	Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
+	Have no delight to pass away the time,
+	Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
+	And descant on mine own deformity:
+	And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
+	To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
+	I am determined to prove a villain
+	And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
+	Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
+	By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,
+	To set my brother Clarence and the king
+	In deadly hate the one against the other:
+	And if King Edward be as true and just
+	As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
+	This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up,
+	About a prophecy, which says that 'G'
+	Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
+	Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here
+	Clarence comes.
+
+	[Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY]
+
+	Brother, good day; what means this armed guard
+	That waits upon your grace?
+
+CLARENCE	His majesty
+	Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed
+	This conduct to convey me to the Tower.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Upon what cause?
+
+CLARENCE	                  Because my name is George.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours;
+	He should, for that, commit your godfathers:
+	O, belike his majesty hath some intent
+	That you shall be new-christen'd in the Tower.
+	But what's the matter, Clarence?  may I know?
+
+CLARENCE	Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest
+	As yet I do not: but, as I can learn,
+	He hearkens after prophecies and dreams;
+	And from the cross-row plucks the letter G.
+	And says a wizard told him that by G
+	His issue disinherited should be;
+	And, for my name of George begins with G,
+	It follows in his thought that I am he.
+	These, as I learn, and such like toys as these
+	Have moved his highness to commit me now.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Why, this it is, when men are ruled by women:
+	'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower:
+	My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she
+	That tempers him to this extremity.
+	Was it not she and that good man of worship,
+	Anthony Woodville, her brother there,
+	That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower,
+	From whence this present day he is deliver'd?
+	We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe.
+
+CLARENCE	By heaven, I think there's no man is secure
+	But the queen's kindred and night-walking heralds
+	That trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore.
+	Heard ye not what an humble suppliant
+	Lord hastings was to her for his delivery?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Humbly complaining to her deity
+	Got my lord chamberlain his liberty.
+	I'll tell you what; I think it is our way,
+	If we will keep in favour with the king,
+	To be her men and wear her livery:
+	The jealous o'erworn widow and herself,
+	Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen.
+	Are mighty gossips in this monarchy.
+
+BRAKENBURY	I beseech your graces both to pardon me;
+	His majesty hath straitly given in charge
+	That no man shall have private conference,
+	Of what degree soever, with his brother.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury,
+	You may partake of any thing we say:
+	We speak no treason, man: we say the king
+	Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen
+	Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous;
+	We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,
+	A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue;
+	And that the queen's kindred are made gentle-folks:
+	How say you sir? Can you deny all this?
+
+BRAKENBURY	With this, my lord, myself have nought to do.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Naught to do with mistress Shore! I tell thee, fellow,
+	He that doth naught with her, excepting one,
+	Were best he do it secretly, alone.
+
+BRAKENBURY	What one, my lord?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Her husband, knave: wouldst thou betray me?
+
+BRAKENBURY	I beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal
+	Forbear your conference with the noble duke.
+
+CLARENCE	We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey.
+
+GLOUCESTER	We are the queen's abjects, and must obey.
+	Brother, farewell: I will unto the king;
+	And whatsoever you will employ me in,
+	Were it to call King Edward's widow sister,
+	I will perform it to enfranchise you.
+	Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood
+	Touches me deeper than you can imagine.
+
+CLARENCE	I know it pleaseth neither of us well.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;
+	Meantime, have patience.
+
+CLARENCE	I must perforce. Farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return.
+	Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so,
+	That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven,
+	If heaven will take the present at our hands.
+	But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings?
+
+	[Enter HASTINGS]
+
+HASTINGS	Good time of day unto my gracious lord!
+
+GLOUCESTER	As much unto my good lord chamberlain!
+	Well are you welcome to the open air.
+	How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?
+
+HASTINGS	With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must:
+	But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks
+	That were the cause of my imprisonment.
+
+GLOUCESTER	No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too;
+	For they that were your enemies are his,
+	And have prevail'd as much on him as you.
+
+HASTINGS	More pity that the eagle should be mew'd,
+	While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What news abroad?
+
+HASTINGS	No news so bad abroad as this at home;
+	The King is sickly, weak and melancholy,
+	And his physicians fear him mightily.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed.
+	O, he hath kept an evil diet long,
+	And overmuch consumed his royal person:
+	'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.
+	What, is he in his bed?
+
+HASTINGS	He is.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Go you before, and I will follow you.
+
+	[Exit HASTINGS]
+
+	He cannot live, I hope; and must not die
+	Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven.
+	I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence,
+	With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments;
+	And, if I fall not in my deep intent,
+	Clarence hath not another day to live:
+	Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,
+	And leave the world for me to bustle in!
+	For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.
+	What though I kill'd her husband and her father?
+	The readiest way to make the wench amends
+	Is to become her husband and her father:
+	The which will I; not all so much for love
+	As for another secret close intent,
+	By marrying her which I must reach unto.
+	But yet I run before my horse to market:
+	Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns:
+	When they are gone, then must I count my gains.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. Another street.
+
+	[Enter the corpse of KING HENRY the Sixth, Gentlemen
+	with halberds to guard it; LADY ANNE being the mourner]
+
+LADY ANNE	Set down, set down your honourable load,
+	If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,
+	Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament
+	The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
+	Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!
+	Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!
+	Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
+	Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost,
+	To hear the lamentations of Poor Anne,
+	Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son,
+	Stabb'd by the selfsame hand that made these wounds!
+	Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life,
+	I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.
+	Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes!
+	Cursed be the heart that had the heart to do it!
+	Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence!
+	More direful hap betide that hated wretch,
+	That makes us wretched by the death of thee,
+	Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,
+	Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!
+	If ever he have child, abortive be it,
+	Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,
+	Whose ugly and unnatural aspect
+	May fright the hopeful mother at the view;
+	And that be heir to his unhappiness!
+	If ever he have wife, let her he made
+	A miserable by the death of him
+	As I am made by my poor lord and thee!
+	Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load,
+	Taken from Paul's to be interred there;
+	And still, as you are weary of the weight,
+	Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse.
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.
+
+LADY ANNE	What black magician conjures up this fiend,
+	To stop devoted charitable deeds?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul,
+	I'll make a corse of him that disobeys.
+
+Gentleman	My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command:
+	Advance thy halbert higher than my breast,
+	Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot,
+	And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.
+
+LADY ANNE	What, do you tremble? are you all afraid?
+	Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal,
+	And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.
+	Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!
+	Thou hadst but power over his mortal body,
+	His soul thou canst not have; therefore be gone.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.
+
+LADY ANNE	Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not;
+	For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,
+	Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims.
+	If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,
+	Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.
+	O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds
+	Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh!
+	Blush, Blush, thou lump of foul deformity;
+	For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood
+	From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells;
+	Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural,
+	Provokes this deluge most unnatural.
+	O God, which this blood madest, revenge his death!
+	O earth, which this blood drink'st revenge his death!
+	Either heaven with lightning strike the
+	murderer dead,
+	Or earth, gape open wide and eat him quick,
+	As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood
+	Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Lady, you know no rules of charity,
+	Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
+
+LADY ANNE	Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor man:
+	No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.
+
+GLOUCESTER	But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
+
+LADY ANNE	O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!
+
+GLOUCESTER	More wonderful, when angels are so angry.
+	Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,
+	Of these supposed-evils, to give me leave,
+	By circumstance, but to acquit myself.
+
+LADY ANNE	Vouchsafe, defused infection of a man,
+	For these known evils, but to give me leave,
+	By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have
+	Some patient leisure to excuse myself.
+
+LADY ANNE	Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make
+	No excuse current, but to hang thyself.
+
+GLOUCESTER	By such despair, I should accuse myself.
+
+LADY ANNE	And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused;
+	For doing worthy vengeance on thyself,
+	Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Say that I slew them not?
+
+LADY ANNE	Why, then they are not dead:
+	But dead they are, and devilish slave, by thee.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I did not kill your husband.
+
+LADY ANNE	Why, then he is alive.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand.
+
+LADY ANNE	In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw
+	Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood;
+	The which thou once didst bend against her breast,
+	But that thy brothers beat aside the point.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I was provoked by her slanderous tongue,
+	which laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.
+
+LADY ANNE	Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind.
+	Which never dreamt on aught but butcheries:
+	Didst thou not kill this king?
+
+GLOUCESTER	I grant ye.
+
+LADY ANNE	Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too
+	Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed!
+	O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous!
+
+GLOUCESTER	The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him.
+
+LADY ANNE	He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither;
+	For he was fitter for that place than earth.
+
+LADY ANNE	And thou unfit for any place but hell.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.
+
+LADY ANNE	Some dungeon.
+
+GLOUCESTER	                             Your bed-chamber.
+
+LADY ANNE	I'll rest betide the chamber where thou liest!
+
+GLOUCESTER	So will it, madam till I lie with you.
+
+LADY ANNE	I hope so.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne,
+	To leave this keen encounter of our wits,
+	And fall somewhat into a slower method,
+	Is not the causer of the timeless deaths
+	Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward,
+	As blameful as the executioner?
+
+LADY ANNE	Thou art the cause, and most accursed effect.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Your beauty was the cause of that effect;
+	Your beauty: which did haunt me in my sleep
+	To undertake the death of all the world,
+	So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom.
+
+LADY ANNE	If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,
+	These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.
+
+GLOUCESTER	These eyes could never endure sweet beauty's wreck;
+	You should not blemish it, if I stood by:
+	As all the world is cheered by the sun,
+	So I by that; it is my day, my life.
+
+LADY ANNE	Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Curse not thyself, fair creature thou art both.
+
+LADY ANNE	I would I were, to be revenged on thee.
+
+GLOUCESTER	It is a quarrel most unnatural,
+	To be revenged on him that loveth you.
+
+LADY ANNE	It is a quarrel just and reasonable,
+	To be revenged on him that slew my husband.
+
+GLOUCESTER	He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,
+	Did it to help thee to a better husband.
+
+LADY ANNE	His better doth not breathe upon the earth.
+
+GLOUCESTER	He lives that loves thee better than he could.
+
+LADY ANNE	Name him.
+
+GLOUCESTER	        Plantagenet.
+
+LADY ANNE	Why, that was he.
+
+GLOUCESTER	The selfsame name, but one of better nature.
+
+LADY ANNE	Where is he?
+
+GLOUCESTER	                 Here.
+
+	[She spitteth at him]
+
+	Why dost thou spit at me?
+
+LADY ANNE	Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Never came poison from so sweet a place.
+
+LADY ANNE	Never hung poison on a fouler toad.
+	Out of my sight! thou dost infect my eyes.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.
+
+LADY ANNE	Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead!
+
+GLOUCESTER	I would they were, that I might die at once;
+	For now they kill me with a living death.
+	Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears,
+	Shamed their aspect with store of childish drops:
+	These eyes that never shed remorseful tear,
+	No, when my father York and Edward wept,
+	To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made
+	When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him;
+	Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,
+	Told the sad story of my father's death,
+	And twenty times made pause to sob and weep,
+	That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks
+	Like trees bedash'd with rain: in that sad time
+	My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;
+	And what these sorrows could not thence exhale,
+	Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.
+	I never sued to friend nor enemy;
+	My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word;
+	But now thy beauty is proposed my fee,
+	My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak.
+
+	[She looks scornfully at him]
+
+	Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were made
+	For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
+	If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,
+	Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword;
+	Which if thou please to hide in this true bosom.
+	And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,
+	I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,
+	And humbly beg the death upon my knee.
+
+	[He lays his breast open: she offers at it with his sword]
+
+	Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry,
+	But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me.
+	Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward,
+	But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on.
+
+	[Here she lets fall the sword]
+
+	Take up the sword again, or take up me.
+
+LADY ANNE	Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death,
+	I will not be the executioner.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.
+
+LADY ANNE	I have already.
+
+GLOUCESTER	                  Tush, that was in thy rage:
+	Speak it again, and, even with the word,
+	That hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love,
+	Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love;
+	To both their deaths thou shalt be accessary.
+
+LADY ANNE	I would I knew thy heart.
+
+GLOUCESTER	'Tis figured in my tongue.
+
+LADY ANNE	I fear me both are false.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Then never man was true.
+
+LADY ANNE	Well, well, put up your sword.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Say, then, my peace is made.
+
+LADY ANNE	That shall you know hereafter.
+
+GLOUCESTER	But shall I live in hope?
+
+LADY ANNE	All men, I hope, live so.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Vouchsafe to wear this ring.
+
+LADY ANNE	To take is not to give.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Look, how this ring encompasseth finger.
+	Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart;
+	Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
+	And if thy poor devoted suppliant may
+	But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
+	Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.
+
+LADY ANNE	What is it?
+
+GLOUCESTER	That it would please thee leave these sad designs
+	To him that hath more cause to be a mourner,
+	And presently repair to Crosby Place;
+	Where, after I have solemnly interr'd
+	At Chertsey monastery this noble king,
+	And wet his grave with my repentant tears,
+	I will with all expedient duty see you:
+	For divers unknown reasons. I beseech you,
+	Grant me this boon.
+
+LADY ANNE	With all my heart; and much it joys me too,
+	To see you are become so penitent.
+	Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Bid me farewell.
+
+LADY ANNE	'Tis more than you deserve;
+	But since you teach me how to flatter you,
+	Imagine I have said farewell already.
+
+	[Exeunt LADY ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKELEY]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Sirs, take up the corse.
+
+GENTLEMEN	Towards Chertsey, noble lord?
+
+GLOUCESTER	No, to White-Friars; there attend my coining.
+
+	[Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER]
+
+	Was ever woman in this humour woo'd?
+	Was ever woman in this humour won?
+	I'll have her; but I will not keep her long.
+	What! I, that kill'd her husband and his father,
+	To take her in her heart's extremest hate,
+	With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,
+	The bleeding witness of her hatred by;
+	Having God, her conscience, and these bars
+	against me,
+	And I nothing to back my suit at all,
+	But the plain devil and dissembling looks,
+	And yet to win her, all the world to nothing!
+	Ha!
+	Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
+	Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since,
+	Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
+	A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,
+	Framed in the prodigality of nature,
+	Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal,
+	The spacious world cannot again afford
+	And will she yet debase her eyes on me,
+	That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince,
+	And made her widow to a woful bed?
+	On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety?
+	On me, that halt and am unshapen thus?
+	My dukedom to a beggarly denier,
+	I do mistake my person all this while:
+	Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot,
+	Myself to be a marvellous proper man.
+	I'll be at charges for a looking-glass,
+	And entertain some score or two of tailors,
+	To study fashions to adorn my body:
+	Since I am crept in favour with myself,
+	Will maintain it with some little cost.
+	But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave;
+	And then return lamenting to my love.
+	Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,
+	That I may see my shadow as I pass.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, RIVERS, and GREY]
+
+RIVERS	Have patience, madam: there's no doubt his majesty
+	Will soon recover his accustom'd health.
+
+GREY	In that you brook it in, it makes him worse:
+	Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort,
+	And cheer his grace with quick and merry words.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	If he were dead, what would betide of me?
+
+RIVERS	No other harm but loss of such a lord.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	The loss of such a lord includes all harm.
+
+GREY	The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son,
+	To be your comforter when he is gone.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Oh, he is young and his minority
+	Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester,
+	A man that loves not me, nor none of you.
+
+RIVERS	Is it concluded that he shall be protector?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	It is determined, not concluded yet:
+	But so it must be, if the king miscarry.
+
+	[Enter BUCKINGHAM and DERBY]
+
+GREY	Here come the lords of Buckingham and Derby.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Good time of day unto your royal grace!
+
+DERBY	God make your majesty joyful as you have been!
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby.
+	To your good prayers will scarcely say amen.
+	Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she's your wife,
+	And loves not me, be you, good lord, assured
+	I hate not you for her proud arrogance.
+
+DERBY	I do beseech you, either not believe
+	The envious slanders of her false accusers;
+	Or, if she be accused in true report,
+	Bear with her weakness, which, I think proceeds
+	From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice.
+
+RIVERS	Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of Derby?
+
+DERBY	But now the Duke of Buckingham and I
+	Are come from visiting his majesty.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	What likelihood of his amendment, lords?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	God grant him health! Did you confer with him?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Madam, we did: he desires to make atonement
+	Betwixt the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers,
+	And betwixt them and my lord chamberlain;
+	And sent to warn them to his royal presence.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Would all were well! but that will never be
+	I fear our happiness is at the highest.
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET]
+
+GLOUCESTER	They do me wrong, and I will not endure it:
+	Who are they that complain unto the king,
+	That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not?
+	By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly
+	That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours.
+	Because I cannot flatter and speak fair,
+	Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive and cog,
+	Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,
+	I must be held a rancorous enemy.
+	Cannot a plain man live and think no harm,
+	But thus his simple truth must be abused
+	By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?
+
+RIVERS	To whom in all this presence speaks your grace?
+
+GLOUCESTER	To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.
+	When have I injured thee? when done thee wrong?
+	Or thee? or thee? or any of your faction?
+	A plague upon you all! His royal person,--
+	Whom God preserve better than you would wish!--
+	Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while,
+	But you must trouble him with lewd complaints.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter.
+	The king, of his own royal disposition,
+	And not provoked by any suitor else;
+	Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred,
+	Which in your outward actions shows itself
+	Against my kindred, brothers, and myself,
+	Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather
+	The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I cannot tell: the world is grown so bad,
+	That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch:
+	Since every Jack became a gentleman
+	There's many a gentle person made a Jack.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Come, come, we know your meaning, brother
+	Gloucester;
+	You envy my advancement and my friends':
+	God grant we never may have need of you!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Meantime, God grants that we have need of you:
+	Your brother is imprison'd by your means,
+	Myself disgraced, and the nobility
+	Held in contempt; whilst many fair promotions
+	Are daily given to ennoble those
+	That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	By Him that raised me to this careful height
+	From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,
+	I never did incense his majesty
+	Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been
+	An earnest advocate to plead for him.
+	My lord, you do me shameful injury,
+	Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects.
+
+GLOUCESTER	You may deny that you were not the cause
+	Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment.
+
+RIVERS	She may, my lord, for--
+
+GLOUCESTER	She may, Lord Rivers! why, who knows not so?
+	She may do more, sir, than denying that:
+	She may help you to many fair preferments,
+	And then deny her aiding hand therein,
+	And lay those honours on your high deserts.
+	What may she not? She may, yea, marry, may she--
+
+RIVERS	What, marry, may she?
+
+GLOUCESTER	What, marry, may she! marry with a king,
+	A bachelor, a handsome stripling too:
+	I wis your grandam had a worser match.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne
+	Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs:
+	By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty
+	With those gross taunts I often have endured.
+	I had rather be a country servant-maid
+	Than a great queen, with this condition,
+	To be thus taunted, scorn'd, and baited at:
+
+	[Enter QUEEN MARGARET, behind]
+
+	Small joy have I in being England's queen.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee!
+	Thy honour, state and seat is due to me.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What! threat you me with telling of the king?
+	Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have said
+	I will avouch in presence of the king:
+	I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower.
+	'Tis time to speak; my pains are quite forgot.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Out, devil! I remember them too well:
+	Thou slewest my husband Henry in the Tower,
+	And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ere you were queen, yea, or your husband king,
+	I was a pack-horse in his great affairs;
+	A weeder-out of his proud adversaries,
+	A liberal rewarder of his friends:
+	To royalize his blood I spilt mine own.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Yea, and much better blood than his or thine.
+
+GLOUCESTER	In all which time you and your husband Grey
+	Were factious for the house of Lancaster;
+	And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband
+	In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain?
+	Let me put in your minds, if you forget,
+	What you have been ere now, and what you are;
+	Withal, what I have been, and what I am.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	A murderous villain, and so still thou art.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick;
+	Yea, and forswore himself,--which Jesu pardon!--
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Which God revenge!
+
+GLOUCESTER	To fight on Edward's party for the crown;
+	And for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up.
+	I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward's;
+	Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine
+	I am too childish-foolish for this world.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave the world,
+	Thou cacodemon! there thy kingdom is.
+
+RIVERS	My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days
+	Which here you urge to prove us enemies,
+	We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king:
+	So should we you, if you should be our king.
+
+GLOUCESTER	If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar:
+	Far be it from my heart, the thought of it!
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	As little joy, my lord, as you suppose
+	You should enjoy, were you this country's king,
+	As little joy may you suppose in me.
+	That I enjoy, being the queen thereof.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	A little joy enjoys the queen thereof;
+	For I am she, and altogether joyless.
+	I can no longer hold me patient.
+
+	[Advancing]
+
+	Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out
+	In sharing that which you have pill'd from me!
+	Which of you trembles not that looks on me?
+	If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects,
+	Yet that, by you deposed, you quake like rebels?
+	O gentle villain, do not turn away!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Foul wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	But repetition of what thou hast marr'd;
+	That will I make before I let thee go.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Wert thou not banished on pain of death?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	I was; but I do find more pain in banishment
+	Than death can yield me here by my abode.
+	A husband and a son thou owest to me;
+	And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance:
+	The sorrow that I have, by right is yours,
+	And all the pleasures you usurp are mine.
+
+GLOUCESTER	The curse my noble father laid on thee,
+	When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper
+	And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes,
+	And then, to dry them, gavest the duke a clout
+	Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland--
+	His curses, then from bitterness of soul
+	Denounced against thee, are all fall'n upon thee;
+	And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	So just is God, to right the innocent.
+
+HASTINGS	O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe,
+	And the most merciless that e'er was heard of!
+
+RIVERS	Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported.
+
+DORSET	No man but prophesied revenge for it.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Northumberland, then present, wept to see it.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	What were you snarling all before I came,
+	Ready to catch each other by the throat,
+	And turn you all your hatred now on me?
+	Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven?
+	That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death,
+	Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment,
+	Could all but answer for that peevish brat?
+	Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven?
+	Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses!
+	If not by war, by surfeit die your king,
+	As ours by murder, to make him a king!
+	Edward thy son, which now is Prince of Wales,
+	For Edward my son, which was Prince of Wales,
+	Die in his youth by like untimely violence!
+	Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen,
+	Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self!
+	Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's loss;
+	And see another, as I see thee now,
+	Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine!
+	Long die thy happy days before thy death;
+	And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief,
+	Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen!
+	Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by,
+	And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son
+	Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray him,
+	That none of you may live your natural age,
+	But by some unlook'd accident cut off!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me.
+	If heaven have any grievous plague in store
+	Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,
+	O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe,
+	And then hurl down their indignation
+	On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace!
+	The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul!
+	Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest,
+	And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!
+	No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,
+	Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream
+	Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils!
+	Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog!
+	Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity
+	The slave of nature and the son of hell!
+	Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb!
+	Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins!
+	Thou rag of honour! thou detested--
+
+GLOUCESTER	Margaret.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	        Richard!
+
+GLOUCESTER	                  Ha!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	                  I call thee not.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I cry thee mercy then, for I had thought
+	That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply.
+	O, let me make the period to my curse!
+
+GLOUCESTER	'Tis done by me, and ends in 'Margaret.'
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune!
+	Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider,
+	Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about?
+	Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself.
+	The time will come when thou shalt wish for me
+	To help thee curse that poisonous bunchback'd toad.
+
+HASTINGS	False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse,
+	Lest to thy harm thou move our patience.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Foul shame upon you! you have all moved mine.
+
+RIVERS	Were you well served, you would be taught your duty.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	To serve me well, you all should do me duty,
+	Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects:
+	O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty!
+
+DORSET	Dispute not with her; she is lunatic.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Peace, master marquess, you are malapert:
+	Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current.
+	O, that your young nobility could judge
+	What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable!
+	They that stand high have many blasts to shake them;
+	And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Good counsel, marry: learn it, learn it, marquess.
+
+DORSET	It toucheth you, my lord, as much as me.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Yea, and much more: but I was born so high,
+	Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top,
+	And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	And turns the sun to shade; alas! alas!
+	Witness my son, now in the shade of death;
+	Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath
+	Hath in eternal darkness folded up.
+	Your aery buildeth in our aery's nest.
+	O God, that seest it, do not suffer it!
+	As it was won with blood, lost be it so!
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Have done! for shame, if not for charity.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Urge neither charity nor shame to me:
+	Uncharitably with me have you dealt,
+	And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd.
+	My charity is outrage, life my shame
+	And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Have done, have done.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	O princely Buckingham I'll kiss thy hand,
+	In sign of league and amity with thee:
+	Now fair befal thee and thy noble house!
+	Thy garments are not spotted with our blood,
+	Nor thou within the compass of my curse.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Nor no one here; for curses never pass
+	The lips of those that breathe them in the air.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	I'll not believe but they ascend the sky,
+	And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace.
+	O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog!
+	Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites,
+	His venom tooth will rankle to the death:
+	Have not to do with him, beware of him;
+	Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him,
+	And all their ministers attend on him.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel?
+	And soothe the devil that I warn thee from?
+	O, but remember this another day,
+	When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow,
+	And say poor Margaret was a prophetess!
+	Live each of you the subjects to his hate,
+	And he to yours, and all of you to God's!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HASTINGS	My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses.
+
+RIVERS	And so doth mine: I muse why she's at liberty.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I cannot blame her: by God's holy mother,
+	She hath had too much wrong; and I repent
+	My part thereof that I have done to her.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	I never did her any, to my knowledge.
+
+GLOUCESTER	But you have all the vantage of her wrong.
+	I was too hot to do somebody good,
+	That is too cold in thinking of it now.
+	Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid,
+	He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains
+	God pardon them that are the cause of it!
+
+RIVERS	A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion,
+	To pray for them that have done scathe to us.
+
+GLOUCESTER	So do I ever:
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	being well-advised.
+	For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself.
+
+	[Enter CATESBY]
+
+CATESBY	Madam, his majesty doth call for you,
+	And for your grace; and you, my noble lords.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Catesby, we come. Lords, will you go with us?
+
+RIVERS	Madam, we will attend your grace.
+
+	[Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER]
+
+GLOUCESTER	I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl.
+	The secret mischiefs that I set abroach
+	I lay unto the grievous charge of others.
+	Clarence, whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness,
+	I do beweep to many simple gulls
+	Namely, to Hastings, Derby, Buckingham;
+	And say it is the queen and her allies
+	That stir the king against the duke my brother.
+	Now, they believe it; and withal whet me
+	To be revenged on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey:
+	But then I sigh; and, with a piece of scripture,
+	Tell them that God bids us do good for evil:
+	And thus I clothe my naked villany
+	With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ;
+	And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.
+
+	[Enter two Murderers]
+
+	But, soft! here come my executioners.
+	How now, my hardy, stout resolved mates!
+	Are you now going to dispatch this deed?
+
+First Murderer	We are, my lord; and come to have the warrant
+	That we may be admitted where he is.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Well thought upon; I have it here about me.
+
+	[Gives the warrant]
+
+	When you have done, repair to Crosby Place.
+	But, sirs, be sudden in the execution,
+	Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead;
+	For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps
+	May move your hearts to pity if you mark him.
+
+First Murderer	Tush!
+	Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate;
+	Talkers are no good doers: be assured
+	We come to use our hands and not our tongues.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Your eyes drop millstones, when fools' eyes drop tears:
+	I like you, lads; about your business straight;
+	Go, go, dispatch.
+
+First Murderer	                  We will, my noble lord.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	London. The Tower.
+
+
+	[Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY]
+
+BRAKENBURY	Why looks your grace so heavily today?
+
+CLARENCE	O, I have pass'd a miserable night,
+	So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams,
+	That, as I am a Christian faithful man,
+	I would not spend another such a night,
+	Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days,
+	So full of dismal terror was the time!
+
+BRAKENBURY	What was your dream? I long to hear you tell it.
+
+CLARENCE	Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower,
+	And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy;
+	And, in my company, my brother Gloucester;
+	Who from my cabin tempted me to walk
+	Upon the hatches: thence we looked toward England,
+	And cited up a thousand fearful times,
+	During the wars of York and Lancaster
+	That had befall'n us. As we paced along
+	Upon the giddy footing of the hatches,
+	Methought that Gloucester stumbled; and, in falling,
+	Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard,
+	Into the tumbling billows of the main.
+	Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown!
+	What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears!
+	What ugly sights of death within mine eyes!
+	Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
+	Ten thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon;
+	Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
+	Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
+	All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea:
+	Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes
+	Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept,
+	As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems,
+	Which woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep,
+	And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
+
+BRAKENBURY	Had you such leisure in the time of death
+	To gaze upon the secrets of the deep?
+
+CLARENCE	Methought I had; and often did I strive
+	To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood
+	Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth
+	To seek the empty, vast and wandering air;
+	But smother'd it within my panting bulk,
+	Which almost burst to belch it in the sea.
+
+BRAKENBURY	Awaked you not with this sore agony?
+
+CLARENCE	O, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life;
+	O, then began the tempest to my soul,
+	Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood,
+	With that grim ferryman which poets write of,
+	Unto the kingdom of perpetual night.
+	The first that there did greet my stranger soul,
+	Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick;
+	Who cried aloud, 'What scourge for perjury
+	Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?'
+	And so he vanish'd: then came wandering by
+	A shadow like an angel, with bright hair
+	Dabbled in blood; and he squeak'd out aloud,
+	'Clarence is come; false, fleeting, perjured Clarence,
+	That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury;
+	Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments!'
+	With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends
+	Environ'd me about, and howled in mine ears
+	Such hideous cries, that with the very noise
+	I trembling waked, and for a season after
+	Could not believe but that I was in hell,
+	Such terrible impression made the dream.
+
+BRAKENBURY	No marvel, my lord, though it affrighted you;
+	I promise, I am afraid to hear you tell it.
+
+CLARENCE	O Brakenbury, I have done those things,
+	Which now bear evidence against my soul,
+	For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me!
+	O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee,
+	But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds,
+	Yet execute thy wrath in me alone,
+	O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children!
+	I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me;
+	My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep.
+
+BRAKENBURY	I will, my lord: God give your grace good rest!
+
+	[CLARENCE sleeps]
+
+	Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours,
+	Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night.
+	Princes have but their tides for their glories,
+	An outward honour for an inward toil;
+	And, for unfelt imagination,
+	They often feel a world of restless cares:
+	So that, betwixt their tides and low names,
+	There's nothing differs but the outward fame.
+
+	[Enter the two Murderers]
+
+First Murderer	Ho! who's here?
+
+BRAKENBURY	In God's name what are you, and how came you hither?
+
+First Murderer	I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs.
+
+BRAKENBURY	Yea, are you so brief?
+
+Second Murderer	O sir, it is better to be brief than tedious. Show
+	him our commission; talk no more.
+
+	[BRAKENBURY reads it]
+
+BRAKENBURY	I am, in this, commanded to deliver
+	The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands:
+	I will not reason what is meant hereby,
+	Because I will be guiltless of the meaning.
+	Here are the keys, there sits the duke asleep:
+	I'll to the king; and signify to him
+	That thus I have resign'd my charge to you.
+
+First Murderer	Do so, it is a point of wisdom: fare you well.
+
+	[Exit BRAKENBURY]
+
+Second Murderer	What, shall we stab him as he sleeps?
+
+First Murderer	No; then he will say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes.
+
+Second Murderer	When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake till
+	the judgment-day.
+
+First Murderer	Why, then he will say we stabbed him sleeping.
+
+Second Murderer	The urging of that word 'judgment' hath bred a kind
+	of remorse in me.
+
+First Murderer	What, art thou afraid?
+
+Second Murderer	Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be
+	damned for killing him, from which no warrant can defend us.
+
+First Murderer	I thought thou hadst been resolute.
+
+Second Murderer	So I am, to let him live.
+
+First Murderer	Back to the Duke of Gloucester, tell him so.
+
+Second Murderer	I pray thee, stay a while: I hope my holy humour
+	will change; 'twas wont to hold me but while one
+	would tell twenty.
+
+First Murderer	How dost thou feel thyself now?
+
+Second Murderer	'Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet
+	within me.
+
+First Murderer	Remember our reward, when the deed is done.
+
+Second Murderer	'Zounds, he dies: I had forgot the reward.
+
+First Murderer	Where is thy conscience now?
+
+Second Murderer	In the Duke of Gloucester's purse.
+
+First Murderer	So when he opens his purse to give us our reward,
+	thy conscience flies out.
+
+Second Murderer	Let it go; there's few or none will entertain it.
+
+First Murderer	How if it come to thee again?
+
+Second Murderer	I'll not meddle with it: it is a dangerous thing: it
+	makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but it
+	accuseth him; he cannot swear, but it cheques him;
+	he cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it
+	detects him: 'tis a blushing shamefast spirit that
+	mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of
+	obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold
+	that I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it
+	is turned out of all towns and cities for a
+	dangerous thing; and every man that means to live
+	well endeavours to trust to himself and to live
+	without it.
+
+First Murderer	'Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me
+	not to kill the duke.
+
+Second Murderer	Take the devil in thy mind, and relieve him not: he
+	would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh.
+
+First Murderer	Tut, I am strong-framed, he cannot prevail with me,
+	I warrant thee.
+
+Second Murderer	Spoke like a tail fellow that respects his
+	reputation. Come, shall we to this gear?
+
+First Murderer	Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy
+	sword, and then we will chop him in the malmsey-butt
+	in the next room.
+
+Second Murderer	O excellent devise! make a sop of him.
+
+First Murderer	Hark! he stirs: shall I strike?
+
+Second Murderer	No, first let's reason with him.
+
+CLARENCE	Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine.
+
+Second murderer	You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon.
+
+CLARENCE	In God's name, what art thou?
+
+Second Murderer	A man, as you are.
+
+CLARENCE	But not, as I am, royal.
+
+Second Murderer	Nor you, as we are, loyal.
+
+CLARENCE	Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble.
+
+Second Murderer	My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own.
+
+CLARENCE	How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak!
+	Your eyes do menace me: why look you pale?
+	Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come?
+
+Both	To, to, to--
+
+CLARENCE	To murder me?
+
+Both	Ay, ay.
+
+CLARENCE	You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so,
+	And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it.
+	Wherein, my friends, have I offended you?
+
+First Murderer	Offended us you have not, but the king.
+
+CLARENCE	I shall be reconciled to him again.
+
+Second Murderer	Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die.
+
+CLARENCE	Are you call'd forth from out a world of men
+	To slay the innocent? What is my offence?
+	Where are the evidence that do accuse me?
+	What lawful quest have given their verdict up
+	Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounced
+	The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death?
+	Before I be convict by course of law,
+	To threaten me with death is most unlawful.
+	I charge you, as you hope to have redemption
+	By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins,
+	That you depart and lay no hands on me
+	The deed you undertake is damnable.
+
+First Murderer	What we will do, we do upon command.
+
+Second Murderer	And he that hath commanded is the king.
+
+CLARENCE	Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings
+	Hath in the tables of his law commanded
+	That thou shalt do no murder: and wilt thou, then,
+	Spurn at his edict and fulfil a man's?
+	Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hands,
+	To hurl upon their heads that break his law.
+
+Second Murderer	And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee,
+	For false forswearing and for murder too:
+	Thou didst receive the holy sacrament,
+	To fight in quarrel of the house of Lancaster.
+
+First Murderer	And, like a traitor to the name of God,
+	Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade
+	Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son.
+
+Second Murderer	Whom thou wert sworn to cherish and defend.
+
+First Murderer	How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us,
+	When thou hast broke it in so dear degree?
+
+CLARENCE	Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed?
+	For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: Why, sirs,
+	He sends ye not to murder me for this
+	For in this sin he is as deep as I.
+	If God will be revenged for this deed.
+	O, know you yet, he doth it publicly,
+	Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm;
+	He needs no indirect nor lawless course
+	To cut off those that have offended him.
+
+First Murderer	Who made thee, then, a bloody minister,
+	When gallant-springing brave Plantagenet,
+	That princely novice, was struck dead by thee?
+
+CLARENCE	My brother's love, the devil, and my rage.
+
+First Murderer	Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault,
+	Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee.
+
+CLARENCE	Oh, if you love my brother, hate not me;
+	I am his brother, and I love him well.
+	If you be hired for meed, go back again,
+	And I will send you to my brother Gloucester,
+	Who shall reward you better for my life
+	Than Edward will for tidings of my death.
+
+Second Murderer	You are deceived, your brother Gloucester hates you.
+
+CLARENCE	O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear:
+	Go you to him from me.
+
+Both	Ay, so we will.
+
+CLARENCE	Tell him, when that our princely father York
+	Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm,
+	And charged us from his soul to love each other,
+	He little thought of this divided friendship:
+	Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep.
+
+First Murderer	Ay, millstones; as be lesson'd us to weep.
+
+CLARENCE	O, do not slander him, for he is kind.
+
+First Murderer	Right,
+	As snow in harvest. Thou deceivest thyself:
+	'Tis he that sent us hither now to slaughter thee.
+
+CLARENCE	It cannot be; for when I parted with him,
+	He hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs,
+	That he would labour my delivery.
+
+Second Murderer	Why, so he doth, now he delivers thee
+	From this world's thraldom to the joys of heaven.
+
+First Murderer	Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord.
+
+CLARENCE	Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul,
+	To counsel me to make my peace with God,
+	And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind,
+	That thou wilt war with God by murdering me?
+	Ah, sirs, consider, he that set you on
+	To do this deed will hate you for the deed.
+
+Second Murderer	What shall we do?
+
+CLARENCE	                  Relent, and save your souls.
+
+First Murderer	Relent! 'tis cowardly and womanish.
+
+CLARENCE	Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish.
+	Which of you, if you were a prince's son,
+	Being pent from liberty, as I am now,
+	if two such murderers as yourselves came to you,
+	Would not entreat for life?
+	My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks:
+	O, if thine eye be not a flatterer,
+	Come thou on my side, and entreat for me,
+	As you would beg, were you in my distress
+	A begging prince what beggar pities not?
+
+Second Murderer	Look behind you, my lord.
+
+First Murderer	Take that, and that: if all this will not do,
+
+	[Stabs him]
+
+	I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within.
+
+	[Exit, with the body]
+
+Second Murderer	A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch'd!
+	How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands
+	Of this most grievous guilty murder done!
+
+	[Re-enter First Murderer]
+
+First Murderer	How now! what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not?
+	By heavens, the duke shall know how slack thou art!
+
+Second Murderer	I would he knew that I had saved his brother!
+	Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say;
+	For I repent me that the duke is slain.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+First Murderer	So do not I: go, coward as thou art.
+	Now must I hide his body in some hole,
+	Until the duke take order for his burial:
+	And when I have my meed, I must away;
+	For this will out, and here I must not stay.
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV sick, QUEEN
+	ELIZABETH, DORSET, RIVERS, HASTINGS, BUCKINGHAM,
+	GREY, and others]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Why, so: now have I done a good day's work:
+	You peers, continue this united league:
+	I every day expect an embassage
+	From my Redeemer to redeem me hence;
+	And now in peace my soul shall part to heaven,
+	Since I have set my friends at peace on earth.
+	Rivers and Hastings, take each other's hand;
+	Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love.
+
+RIVERS	By heaven, my heart is purged from grudging hate:
+	And with my hand I seal my true heart's love.
+
+HASTINGS	So thrive I, as I truly swear the like!
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Take heed you dally not before your king;
+	Lest he that is the supreme King of kings
+	Confound your hidden falsehood, and award
+	Either of you to be the other's end.
+
+HASTINGS	So prosper I, as I swear perfect love!
+
+RIVERS	And I, as I love Hastings with my heart!
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Madam, yourself are not exempt in this,
+	Nor your son Dorset, Buckingham, nor you;
+	You have been factious one against the other,
+	Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand;
+	And what you do, do it unfeignedly.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Here, Hastings; I will never more remember
+	Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine!
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Dorset, embrace him; Hastings, love lord marquess.
+
+DORSET	This interchange of love, I here protest,
+	Upon my part shall be unviolable.
+
+HASTINGS	And so swear I, my lord
+
+	[They embrace]
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league
+	With thy embracements to my wife's allies,
+	And make me happy in your unity.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate
+	On you or yours,
+
+	[To the Queen]
+
+	but with all duteous love
+	Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me
+	With hate in those where I expect most love!
+	When I have most need to employ a friend,
+	And most assured that he is a friend
+	Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile,
+	Be he unto me! this do I beg of God,
+	When I am cold in zeal to yours.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham,
+	is this thy vow unto my sickly heart.
+	There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here,
+	To make the perfect period of this peace.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	And, in good time, here comes the noble duke.
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen:
+	And, princely peers, a happy time of day!
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day.
+	Brother, we done deeds of charity;
+	Made peace enmity, fair love of hate,
+	Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.
+
+GLOUCESTER	A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege:
+	Amongst this princely heap, if any here,
+	By false intelligence, or wrong surmise,
+	Hold me a foe;
+	If I unwittingly, or in my rage,
+	Have aught committed that is hardly borne
+	By any in this presence, I desire
+	To reconcile me to his friendly peace:
+	'Tis death to me to be at enmity;
+	I hate it, and desire all good men's love.
+	First, madam, I entreat true peace of you,
+	Which I will purchase with my duteous service;
+	Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham,
+	If ever any grudge were lodged between us;
+	Of you, Lord Rivers, and, Lord Grey, of you;
+	That without desert have frown'd on me;
+	Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all.
+	I do not know that Englishman alive
+	With whom my soul is any jot at odds
+	More than the infant that is born to-night
+	I thank my God for my humility.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	A holy day shall this be kept hereafter:
+	I would to God all strifes were well compounded.
+	My sovereign liege, I do beseech your majesty
+	To take our brother Clarence to your grace.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this
+	To be so bouted in this royal presence?
+	Who knows not that the noble duke is dead?
+
+	[They all start]
+
+	You do him injury to scorn his corse.
+
+RIVERS	Who knows not he is dead! who knows he is?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	All seeing heaven, what a world is this!
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest?
+
+DORSET	Ay, my good lord; and no one in this presence
+	But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Is Clarence dead? the order was reversed.
+
+GLOUCESTER	But he, poor soul, by your first order died,
+	And that a winged Mercury did bear:
+	Some tardy cripple bore the countermand,
+	That came too lag to see him buried.
+	God grant that some, less noble and less loyal,
+	Nearer in bloody thoughts, but not in blood,
+	Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did,
+	And yet go current from suspicion!
+
+	[Enter DERBY]
+
+DORSET	A boon, my sovereign, for my service done!
+
+KING EDWARD IV	I pray thee, peace: my soul is full of sorrow.
+
+DORSET	I will not rise, unless your highness grant.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Then speak at once what is it thou demand'st.
+
+DORSET	The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life;
+	Who slew to-day a righteous gentleman
+	Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk.
+
+KING EDWARD IV	Have a tongue to doom my brother's death,
+	And shall the same give pardon to a slave?
+	My brother slew no man; his fault was thought,
+	And yet his punishment was cruel death.
+	Who sued to me for him? who, in my rage,
+	Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advised
+	Who spake of brotherhood? who spake of love?
+	Who told me how the poor soul did forsake
+	The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me?
+	Who told me, in the field by Tewksbury
+	When Oxford had me down, he rescued me,
+	And said, 'Dear brother, live, and be a king'?
+	Who told me, when we both lay in the field
+	Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me
+	Even in his own garments, and gave himself,
+	All thin and naked, to the numb cold night?
+	All this from my remembrance brutish wrath
+	Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you
+	Had so much grace to put it in my mind.
+	But when your carters or your waiting-vassals
+	Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced
+	The precious image of our dear Redeemer,
+	You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon;
+	And I unjustly too, must grant it you
+	But for my brother not a man would speak,
+	Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself
+	For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all
+	Have been beholding to him in his life;
+	Yet none of you would once plead for his life.
+	O God, I fear thy justice will take hold
+	On me, and you, and mine, and yours for this!
+	Come, Hastings, help me to my closet.
+	Oh, poor Clarence!
+
+	[Exeunt some with KING EDWARD IV and QUEEN MARGARET]
+
+GLOUCESTER	This is the fruit of rashness! Mark'd you not
+	How that the guilty kindred of the queen
+	Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death?
+	O, they did urge it still unto the king!
+	God will revenge it. But come, let us in,
+	To comfort Edward with our company.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	We wait upon your grace.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter the DUCHESS OF YORK, with the two children of CLARENCE]
+
+Boy	Tell me, good grandam, is our father dead?
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	No, boy.
+
+Boy	Why do you wring your hands, and beat your breast,
+	And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!'
+
+Girl	Why do you look on us, and shake your head,
+	And call us wretches, orphans, castaways
+	If that our noble father be alive?
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	My pretty cousins, you mistake me much;
+	I do lament the sickness of the king.
+	As loath to lose him, not your father's death;
+	It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost.
+
+Boy	Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead.
+	The king my uncle is to blame for this:
+	God will revenge it; whom I will importune
+	With daily prayers all to that effect.
+
+Girl	And so will I.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well:
+	Incapable and shallow innocents,
+	You cannot guess who caused your father's death.
+
+Boy	Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester
+	Told me, the king, provoked by the queen,
+	Devised impeachments to imprison him :
+	And when my uncle told me so, he wept,
+	And hugg'd me in his arm, and kindly kiss'd my cheek;
+	Bade me rely on him as on my father,
+	And he would love me dearly as his child.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Oh, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes,
+	And with a virtuous vizard hide foul guile!
+	He is my son; yea, and therein my shame;
+	Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit.
+
+Boy	Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam?
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Ay, boy.
+
+Boy	I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this?
+
+	[Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, with her hair about her
+	ears; RIVERS, and DORSET after her]
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Oh, who shall hinder me to wail and weep,
+	To chide my fortune, and torment myself?
+	I'll join with black despair against my soul,
+	And to myself become an enemy.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	What means this scene of rude impatience?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	To make an act of tragic violence:
+	Edward, my lord, your son, our king, is dead.
+	Why grow the branches now the root is wither'd?
+	Why wither not the leaves the sap being gone?
+	If you will live, lament; if die, be brief,
+	That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's;
+	Or, like obedient subjects, follow him
+	To his new kingdom of perpetual rest.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow
+	As I had title in thy noble husband!
+	I have bewept a worthy husband's death,
+	And lived by looking on his images:
+	But now two mirrors of his princely semblance
+	Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death,
+	And I for comfort have but one false glass,
+	Which grieves me when I see my shame in him.
+	Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother,
+	And hast the comfort of thy children left thee:
+	But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms,
+	And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble limbs,
+	Edward and Clarence. O, what cause have I,
+	Thine being but a moiety of my grief,
+	To overgo thy plaints and drown thy cries!
+
+Boy	Good aunt, you wept not for our father's death;
+	How can we aid you with our kindred tears?
+
+Girl	Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd;
+	Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept!
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Give me no help in lamentation;
+	I am not barren to bring forth complaints
+	All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes,
+	That I, being govern'd by the watery moon,
+	May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world!
+	Oh for my husband, for my dear lord Edward!
+
+Children	Oh for our father, for our dear lord Clarence!
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence!
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	What stay had I but Edward? and he's gone.
+
+Children	What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	What stays had I but they? and they are gone.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Was never widow had so dear a loss!
+
+Children	Were never orphans had so dear a loss!
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Was never mother had so dear a loss!
+	Alas, I am the mother of these moans!
+	Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general.
+	She for an Edward weeps, and so do I;
+	I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she:
+	These babes for Clarence weep and so do I;
+	I for an Edward weep, so do not they:
+	Alas, you three, on me, threefold distress'd,
+	Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse,
+	And I will pamper it with lamentations.
+
+DORSET	Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeased
+	That you take with unthankfulness, his doing:
+	In common worldly things, 'tis call'd ungrateful,
+	With dull unwilligness to repay a debt
+	Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent;
+	Much more to be thus opposite with heaven,
+	For it requires the royal debt it lent you.
+
+RIVERS	Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother,
+	Of the young prince your son: send straight for him
+	Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives:
+	Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave,
+	And plant your joys in living Edward's throne.
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Madam, have comfort: all of us have cause
+	To wail the dimming of our shining star;
+	But none can cure their harms by wailing them.
+	Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy;
+	I did not see your grace: humbly on my knee
+	I crave your blessing.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	God bless thee; and put meekness in thy mind,
+	Love, charity, obedience, and true duty!
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside]  Amen; and make me die a good old man!
+	That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing:
+	I marvel why her grace did leave it out.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers,
+	That bear this mutual heavy load of moan,
+	Now cheer each other in each other's love
+	Though we have spent our harvest of this king,
+	We are to reap the harvest of his son.
+	The broken rancour of your high-swoln hearts,
+	But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together,
+	Must gently be preserved, cherish'd, and kept:
+	Me seemeth good, that, with some little train,
+	Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetch'd
+	Hither to London, to be crown'd our king.
+
+RIVERS	Why with some little train, my Lord of Buckingham?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Marry, my lord, lest, by a multitude,
+	The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out,
+	Which would be so much the more dangerous
+	By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd:
+	Where every horse bears his commanding rein,
+	And may direct his course as please himself,
+	As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent,
+	In my opinion, ought to be prevented.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I hope the king made peace with all of us
+	And the compact is firm and true in me.
+
+RIVERS	And so in me; and so, I think, in all:
+	Yet, since it is but green, it should be put
+	To no apparent likelihood of breach,
+	Which haply by much company might be urged:
+	Therefore I say with noble Buckingham,
+	That it is meet so few should fetch the prince.
+
+HASTINGS	And so say I.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Then be it so; and go we to determine
+	Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow.
+	Madam, and you, my mother, will you go
+	To give your censures in this weighty business?
+
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	|
+	|  With all our harts.
+DUCHESS OF YORK	|
+
+
+	[Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOUCESTER]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince,
+	For God's sake, let not us two be behind;
+	For, by the way, I'll sort occasion,
+	As index to the story we late talk'd of,
+	To part the queen's proud kindred from the king.
+
+GLOUCESTER	My other self, my counsel's consistory,
+	My oracle, my prophet! My dear cousin,
+	I, like a child, will go by thy direction.
+	Towards Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	London. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter two Citizens meeting]
+
+First Citizen	Neighbour, well met: whither away so fast?
+
+Second Citizen	I promise you, I scarcely know myself:
+	Hear you the news abroad?
+
+First Citizen	Ay, that the king is dead.
+
+Second Citizen	Bad news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better:
+	I fear, I fear 'twill prove a troublous world.
+
+	[Enter another Citizen]
+
+Third Citizen	Neighbours, God speed!
+
+First Citizen	Give you good morrow, sir.
+
+Third Citizen	Doth this news hold of good King Edward's death?
+
+Second Citizen	Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while!
+
+Third Citizen	Then, masters, look to see a troublous world.
+
+First Citizen	No, no; by God's good grace his son shall reign.
+
+Third Citizen	Woe to the land that's govern'd by a child!
+
+Second Citizen	In him there is a hope of government,
+	That in his nonage council under him,
+	And in his full and ripen'd years himself,
+	No doubt, shall then and till then govern well.
+
+First Citizen	So stood the state when Henry the Sixth
+	Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old.
+
+Third Citizen	Stood the state so? No, no, good friends, God wot;
+	For then this land was famously enrich'd
+	With politic grave counsel; then the king
+	Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace.
+
+First Citizen	Why, so hath this, both by the father and mother.
+
+Third Citizen	Better it were they all came by the father,
+	Or by the father there were none at all;
+	For emulation now, who shall be nearest,
+	Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not.
+	O, full of danger is the Duke of Gloucester!
+	And the queen's sons and brothers haught and proud:
+	And were they to be ruled, and not to rule,
+	This sickly land might solace as before.
+
+First Citizen	Come, come, we fear the worst; all shall be well.
+
+Third Citizen	When clouds appear, wise men put on their cloaks;
+	When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand;
+	When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?
+	Untimely storms make men expect a dearth.
+	All may be well; but, if God sort it so,
+	'Tis more than we deserve, or I expect.
+
+Second Citizen	Truly, the souls of men are full of dread:
+	Ye cannot reason almost with a man
+	That looks not heavily and full of fear.
+
+Third Citizen	Before the times of change, still is it so:
+	By a divine instinct men's minds mistrust
+	Ensuing dangers; as by proof, we see
+	The waters swell before a boisterous storm.
+	But leave it all to God. whither away?
+
+Second Citizen	Marry, we were sent for to the justices.
+
+Third Citizen	And so was I: I'll bear you company.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, young YORK, QUEEN
+	ELIZABETH, and the DUCHESS OF YORK]
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Last night, I hear, they lay at Northampton;
+	At Stony-Stratford will they be to-night:
+	To-morrow, or next day, they will be here.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	I long with all my heart to see the prince:
+	I hope he is much grown since last I saw him.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	But I hear, no; they say my son of York
+	Hath almost overta'en him in his growth.
+
+YORK	Ay, mother; but I would not have it so.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Why, my young cousin, it is good to grow.
+
+YORK	Grandam, one night, as we did sit at supper,
+	My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow
+	More than my brother: 'Ay,' quoth my uncle
+	Gloucester,
+	'Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace:'
+	And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast,
+	Because sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold
+	In him that did object the same to thee;
+	He was the wretched'st thing when he was young,
+	So long a-growing and so leisurely,
+	That, if this rule were true, he should be gracious.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Why, madam, so, no doubt, he is.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	I hope he is; but yet let mothers doubt.
+
+YORK	Now, by my troth, if I had been remember'd,
+	I could have given my uncle's grace a flout,
+	To touch his growth nearer than he touch'd mine.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	How, my pretty York? I pray thee, let me hear it.
+
+YORK	Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast
+	That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old
+	'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth.
+	Grandam, this would have been a biting jest.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	I pray thee, pretty York, who told thee this?
+
+YORK	Grandam, his nurse.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	His nurse! why, she was dead ere thou wert born.
+
+YORK	If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	A parlous boy: go to, you are too shrewd.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Good madam, be not angry with the child.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Pitchers have ears.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	Here comes a messenger. What news?
+
+Messenger	Such news, my lord, as grieves me to unfold.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	How fares the prince?
+
+Messenger	Well, madam, and in health.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	What is thy news then?
+
+Messenger	Lord Rivers and Lord Grey are sent to Pomfret,
+	With them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Who hath committed them?
+
+Messenger	The mighty dukes
+	Gloucester and Buckingham.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	For what offence?
+
+Messenger	The sum of all I can, I have disclosed;
+	Why or for what these nobles were committed
+	Is all unknown to me, my gracious lady.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Ay me, I see the downfall of our house!
+	The tiger now hath seized the gentle hind;
+	Insulting tyranny begins to jet
+	Upon the innocent and aweless throne:
+	Welcome, destruction, death, and massacre!
+	I see, as in a map, the end of all.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Accursed and unquiet wrangling days,
+	How many of you have mine eyes beheld!
+	My husband lost his life to get the crown;
+	And often up and down my sons were toss'd,
+	For me to joy and weep their gain and loss:
+	And being seated, and domestic broils
+	Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors.
+	Make war upon themselves; blood against blood,
+	Self against self: O, preposterous
+	And frantic outrage, end thy damned spleen;
+	Or let me die, to look on death no more!
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Come, come, my boy; we will to sanctuary.
+	Madam, farewell.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	                  I'll go along with you.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	You have no cause.
+
+ARCHBISHOP OF YORK	                  My gracious lady, go;
+	And thither bear your treasure and your goods.
+	For my part, I'll resign unto your grace
+	The seal I keep: and so betide to me
+	As well I tender you and all of yours!
+	Come, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	London. A street.
+
+
+	[The trumpets sound. Enter the young PRINCE EDWARD,
+	GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, CARDINAL, CATESBY, and others]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sovereign
+	The weary way hath made you melancholy.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	No, uncle; but our crosses on the way
+	Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy
+	I want more uncles here to welcome me.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years
+	Hath not yet dived into the world's deceit
+	Nor more can you distinguish of a man
+	Than of his outward show; which, God he knows,
+	Seldom or never jumpeth with the heart.
+	Those uncles which you want were dangerous;
+	Your grace attended to their sugar'd words,
+	But look'd not on the poison of their hearts :
+	God keep you from them, and from such false friends!
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	God keep me from false friends! but they were none.
+
+GLOUCESTER	My lord, the mayor of London comes to greet you.
+
+	[Enter the Lord Mayor and his train]
+
+Lord Mayor	God bless your grace with health and happy days!
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	I thank you, good my lord; and thank you all.
+	I thought my mother, and my brother York,
+	Would long ere this have met us on the way
+	Fie, what a slug is Hastings, that he comes not
+	To tell us whether they will come or no!
+
+	[Enter HASTINGS]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	And, in good time, here comes the sweating lord.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Welcome, my lord: what, will our mother come?
+
+HASTINGS	On what occasion, God he knows, not I,
+	The queen your mother, and your brother York,
+	Have taken sanctuary: the tender prince
+	Would fain have come with me to meet your grace,
+	But by his mother was perforce withheld.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Fie, what an indirect and peevish course
+	Is this of hers! Lord cardinal, will your grace
+	Persuade the queen to send the Duke of York
+	Unto his princely brother presently?
+	If she deny, Lord Hastings, go with him,
+	And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce.
+
+CARDINAL	My Lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory
+	Can from his mother win the Duke of York,
+	Anon expect him here; but if she be obdurate
+	To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid
+	We should infringe the holy privilege
+	Of blessed sanctuary! not for all this land
+	Would I be guilty of so deep a sin.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	You are too senseless--obstinate, my lord,
+	Too ceremonious and traditional
+	Weigh it but with the grossness of this age,
+	You break not sanctuary in seizing him.
+	The benefit thereof is always granted
+	To those whose dealings have deserved the place,
+	And those who have the wit to claim the place:
+	This prince hath neither claim'd it nor deserved it;
+	And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it:
+	Then, taking him from thence that is not there,
+	You break no privilege nor charter there.
+	Oft have I heard of sanctuary men;
+	But sanctuary children ne'er till now.
+
+CARDINAL	My lord, you shall o'er-rule my mind for once.
+	Come on, Lord Hastings, will you go with me?
+
+HASTINGS	I go, my lord.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Good lords, make all the speedy haste you may.
+
+	[Exeunt CARDINAL and HASTINGS]
+
+	Say, uncle Gloucester, if our brother come,
+	Where shall we sojourn till our coronation?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Where it seems best unto your royal self.
+	If I may counsel you, some day or two
+	Your highness shall repose you at the Tower:
+	Then where you please, and shall be thought most fit
+	For your best health and recreation.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	I do not like the Tower, of any place.
+	Did Julius Caesar build that place, my lord?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	He did, my gracious lord, begin that place;
+	Which, since, succeeding ages have re-edified.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Is it upon record, or else reported
+	Successively from age to age, he built it?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Upon record, my gracious lord.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	But say, my lord, it were not register'd,
+	Methinks the truth should live from age to age,
+	As 'twere retail'd to all posterity,
+	Even to the general all-ending day.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside]  So wise so young, they say, do never
+	live long.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	What say you, uncle?
+
+GLOUCESTER	I say, without characters, fame lives long.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	Thus, like the formal vice, Iniquity,
+	I moralize two meanings in one word.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	That Julius Caesar was a famous man;
+	With what his valour did enrich his wit,
+	His wit set down to make his valour live
+	Death makes no conquest of this conqueror;
+	For now he lives in fame, though not in life.
+	I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham,--
+
+BUCKINGHAM	What, my gracious lord?
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	An if I live until I be a man,
+	I'll win our ancient right in France again,
+	Or die a soldier, as I lived a king.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Aside]  Short summers lightly have a forward spring.
+
+	[Enter young YORK, HASTINGS, and the CARDINAL]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Now, in good time, here comes the Duke of York.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Richard of York! how fares our loving brother?
+
+YORK	Well, my dread lord; so must I call you now.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	Ay, brother, to our grief, as it is yours:
+	Too late he died that might have kept that title,
+	Which by his death hath lost much majesty.
+
+GLOUCESTER	How fares our cousin, noble Lord of York?
+
+YORK	I thank you, gentle uncle. O, my lord,
+	You said that idle weeds are fast in growth
+	The prince my brother hath outgrown me far.
+
+GLOUCESTER	He hath, my lord.
+
+YORK	                  And therefore is he idle?
+
+GLOUCESTER	O, my fair cousin, I must not say so.
+
+YORK	Then is he more beholding to you than I.
+
+GLOUCESTER	He may command me as my sovereign;
+	But you have power in me as in a kinsman.
+
+YORK	I pray you, uncle, give me this dagger.
+
+GLOUCESTER	My dagger, little cousin? with all my heart.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	A beggar, brother?
+
+YORK	Of my kind uncle, that I know will give;
+	And being but a toy, which is no grief to give.
+
+GLOUCESTER	A greater gift than that I'll give my cousin.
+
+YORK	A greater gift! O, that's the sword to it.
+
+GLOUCESTER	A gentle cousin, were it light enough.
+
+YORK	O, then, I see, you will part but with light gifts;
+	In weightier things you'll say a beggar nay.
+
+GLOUCESTER	It is too heavy for your grace to wear.
+
+YORK	I weigh it lightly, were it heavier.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What, would you have my weapon, little lord?
+
+YORK	I would, that I might thank you as you call me.
+
+GLOUCESTER	How?
+
+YORK	Little.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	My Lord of York will still be cross in talk:
+	Uncle, your grace knows how to bear with him.
+
+YORK	You mean, to bear me, not to bear with me:
+	Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me;
+	Because that I am little, like an ape,
+	He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	With what a sharp-provided wit he reasons!
+	To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle,
+	He prettily and aptly taunts himself:
+	So cunning and so young is wonderful.
+
+GLOUCESTER	My lord, will't please you pass along?
+	Myself and my good cousin Buckingham
+	Will to your mother, to entreat of her
+	To meet you at the Tower and welcome you.
+
+YORK	What, will you go unto the Tower, my lord?
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	My lord protector needs will have it so.
+
+YORK	I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Why, what should you fear?
+
+YORK	Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost:
+	My grandam told me he was murdered there.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	I fear no uncles dead.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Nor none that live, I hope.
+
+PRINCE EDWARD	An if they live, I hope I need not fear.
+	But come, my lord; and with a heavy heart,
+	Thinking on them, go I unto the Tower.
+
+	[A Sennet. Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM
+	and CATESBY]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Think you, my lord, this little prating York
+	Was not incensed by his subtle mother
+	To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously?
+
+GLOUCESTER	No doubt, no doubt; O, 'tis a parlous boy;
+	Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable
+	He is all the mother's, from the top to toe.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Well, let them rest. Come hither, Catesby.
+	Thou art sworn as deeply to effect what we intend
+	As closely to conceal what we impart:
+	Thou know'st our reasons urged upon the way;
+	What think'st thou? is it not an easy matter
+	To make William Lord Hastings of our mind,
+	For the instalment of this noble duke
+	In the seat royal of this famous isle?
+
+CATESBY	He for his father's sake so loves the prince,
+	That he will not be won to aught against him.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	What think'st thou, then, of Stanley? what will he?
+
+CATESBY	He will do all in all as Hastings doth.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Well, then, no more but this: go, gentle Catesby,
+	And, as it were far off sound thou Lord Hastings,
+	How doth he stand affected to our purpose;
+	And summon him to-morrow to the Tower,
+	To sit about the coronation.
+	If thou dost find him tractable to us,
+	Encourage him, and show him all our reasons:
+	If he be leaden, icy-cold, unwilling,
+	Be thou so too; and so break off your talk,
+	And give us notice of his inclination:
+	For we to-morrow hold divided councils,
+	Wherein thyself shalt highly be employ'd.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Commend me to Lord William: tell him, Catesby,
+	His ancient knot of dangerous adversaries
+	To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret-castle;
+	And bid my friend, for joy of this good news,
+	Give mistress Shore one gentle kiss the more.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Good Catesby, go, effect this business soundly.
+
+CATESBY	My good lords both, with all the heed I may.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we sleep?
+
+CATESBY	You shall, my lord.
+
+GLOUCESTER	At Crosby Place, there shall you find us both.
+
+	[Exit CATESBY]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Now, my lord, what shall we do, if we perceive
+	Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Chop off his head, man; somewhat we will do:
+	And, look, when I am king, claim thou of me
+	The earldom of Hereford, and the moveables
+	Whereof the king my brother stood possess'd.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	I'll claim that promise at your grace's hands.
+
+GLOUCESTER	And look to have it yielded with all willingness.
+	Come, let us sup betimes, that afterwards
+	We may digest our complots in some form.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Before Lord Hastings' house.
+
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	What, ho! my lord!
+
+HASTINGS	[Within]  Who knocks at the door?
+
+Messenger	A messenger from the Lord Stanley.
+
+	[Enter HASTINGS]
+
+HASTINGS	What is't o'clock?
+
+Messenger	Upon the stroke of four.
+
+HASTINGS	Cannot thy master sleep these tedious nights?
+
+Messenger	So it should seem by that I have to say.
+	First, he commends him to your noble lordship.
+
+HASTINGS	And then?
+
+Messenger	And then he sends you word
+	He dreamt to-night the boar had razed his helm:
+	Besides, he says there are two councils held;
+	And that may be determined at the one
+	which may make you and him to rue at the other.
+	Therefore he sends to know your lordship's pleasure,
+	If presently you will take horse with him,
+	And with all speed post with him toward the north,
+	To shun the danger that his soul divines.
+
+HASTINGS	Go, fellow, go, return unto thy lord;
+	Bid him not fear the separated councils
+	His honour and myself are at the one,
+	And at the other is my servant Catesby
+	Where nothing can proceed that toucheth us
+	Whereof I shall not have intelligence.
+	Tell him his fears are shallow, wanting instance:
+	And for his dreams, I wonder he is so fond
+	To trust the mockery of unquiet slumbers
+	To fly the boar before the boar pursues,
+	Were to incense the boar to follow us
+	And make pursuit where he did mean no chase.
+	Go, bid thy master rise and come to me
+	And we will both together to the Tower,
+	Where, he shall see, the boar will use us kindly.
+
+Messenger	My gracious lord, I'll tell him what you say.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter CATESBY]
+
+CATESBY	Many good morrows to my noble lord!
+
+HASTINGS	Good morrow, Catesby; you are early stirring
+	What news, what news, in this our tottering state?
+
+CATESBY	It is a reeling world, indeed, my lord;
+	And I believe twill never stand upright
+	Tim Richard wear the garland of the realm.
+
+HASTINGS	How! wear the garland! dost thou mean the crown?
+
+CATESBY	Ay, my good lord.
+
+HASTINGS	I'll have this crown of mine cut from my shoulders
+	Ere I will see the crown so foul misplaced.
+	But canst thou guess that he doth aim at it?
+
+CATESBY	Ay, on my life; and hopes to find forward
+	Upon his party for the gain thereof:
+	And thereupon he sends you this good news,
+	That this same very day your enemies,
+	The kindred of the queen, must die at Pomfret.
+
+HASTINGS	Indeed, I am no mourner for that news,
+	Because they have been still mine enemies:
+	But, that I'll give my voice on Richard's side,
+	To bar my master's heirs in true descent,
+	God knows I will not do it, to the death.
+
+CATESBY	God keep your lordship in that gracious mind!
+
+HASTINGS	But I shall laugh at this a twelve-month hence,
+	That they who brought me in my master's hate
+	I live to look upon their tragedy.
+	I tell thee, Catesby--
+
+CATESBY	What, my lord?
+
+HASTINGS	Ere a fortnight make me elder,
+	I'll send some packing that yet think not on it.
+
+CATESBY	'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord,
+	When men are unprepared and look not for it.
+
+HASTINGS	O monstrous, monstrous! and so falls it out
+	With Rivers, Vaughan, Grey: and so 'twill do
+	With some men else, who think themselves as safe
+	As thou and I; who, as thou know'st, are dear
+	To princely Richard and to Buckingham.
+
+CATESBY	The princes both make high account of you;
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	For they account his head upon the bridge.
+
+HASTINGS	I know they do; and I have well deserved it.
+
+	[Enter STANLEY]
+
+	Come on, come on; where is your boar-spear, man?
+	Fear you the boar, and go so unprovided?
+
+STANLEY	My lord, good morrow; good morrow, Catesby:
+	You may jest on, but, by the holy rood,
+	I do not like these several councils, I.
+
+HASTINGS	My lord,
+	I hold my life as dear as you do yours;
+	And never in my life, I do protest,
+	Was it more precious to me than 'tis now:
+	Think you, but that I know our state secure,
+	I would be so triumphant as I am?
+
+STANLEY	The lords at Pomfret, when they rode from London,
+	Were jocund, and supposed their state was sure,
+	And they indeed had no cause to mistrust;
+	But yet, you see how soon the day o'ercast.
+	This sudden stag of rancour I misdoubt:
+	Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward!
+	What, shall we toward the Tower? the day is spent.
+
+HASTINGS	Come, come, have with you. Wot you what, my lord?
+	To-day the lords you talk of are beheaded.
+
+LORD STANLEY	They, for their truth, might better wear their heads
+	Than some that have accused them wear their hats.
+	But come, my lord, let us away.
+
+	[Enter a Pursuivant]
+
+HASTINGS	Go on before; I'll talk with this good fellow.
+
+	[Exeunt STANLEY and CATESBY]
+
+	How now, sirrah! how goes the world with thee?
+
+Pursuivant	The better that your lordship please to ask.
+
+HASTINGS	I tell thee, man, 'tis better with me now
+	Than when I met thee last where now we meet:
+	Then was I going prisoner to the Tower,
+	By the suggestion of the queen's allies;
+	But now, I tell thee--keep it to thyself--
+	This day those enemies are put to death,
+	And I in better state than e'er I was.
+
+Pursuivant	God hold it, to your honour's good content!
+
+HASTINGS	Gramercy, fellow: there, drink that for me.
+
+	[Throws him his purse]
+
+Pursuivant	God save your lordship!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter a Priest]
+
+Priest	Well met, my lord; I am glad to see your honour.
+
+HASTINGS	I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my heart.
+	I am in your debt for your last exercise;
+	Come the next Sabbath, and I will content you.
+
+	[He whispers in his ear]
+
+	[Enter BUCKINGHAM]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	What, talking with a priest, lord chamberlain?
+	Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the priest;
+	Your honour hath no shriving work in hand.
+
+HASTINGS	Good faith, and when I met this holy man,
+	Those men you talk of came into my mind.
+	What, go you toward the Tower?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	I do, my lord; but long I shall not stay
+	I shall return before your lordship thence.
+
+HASTINGS	'Tis like enough, for I stay dinner there.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	[Aside]  And supper too, although thou know'st it not.
+	Come, will you go?
+
+HASTINGS	I'll wait upon your lordship.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Pomfret Castle.
+
+
+	[Enter RATCLIFF, with halberds, carrying RIVERS,
+	GREY, and VAUGHAN to death]
+
+RATCLIFF	Come, bring forth the prisoners.
+
+RIVERS	Sir Richard Ratcliff, let me tell thee this:
+	To-day shalt thou behold a subject die
+	For truth, for duty, and for loyalty.
+
+GREY	God keep the prince from all the pack of you!
+	A knot you are of damned blood-suckers!
+
+VAUGHAN	You live that shall cry woe for this after.
+
+RATCLIFF	Dispatch; the limit of your lives is out.
+
+RIVERS	O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison,
+	Fatal and ominous to noble peers!
+	Within the guilty closure of thy walls
+	Richard the second here was hack'd to death;
+	And, for more slander to thy dismal seat,
+	We give thee up our guiltless blood to drink.
+
+GREY	Now Margaret's curse is fall'n upon our heads,
+	For standing by when Richard stabb'd her son.
+
+RIVERS	Then cursed she Hastings, then cursed she Buckingham,
+	Then cursed she Richard. O, remember, God
+	To hear her prayers for them, as now for us
+	And for my sister and her princely sons,
+	Be satisfied, dear God, with our true blood,
+	Which, as thou know'st, unjustly must be spilt.
+
+RATCLIFF	Make haste; the hour of death is expiate.
+
+RIVERS	Come, Grey, come, Vaughan, let us all embrace:
+	And take our leave, until we meet in heaven.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The Tower of London.
+
+
+	[Enter BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, the BISHOP OF
+	ELY, RATCLIFF, LOVEL, with others, and take their
+	seats at a table]
+
+HASTINGS	My lords, at once: the cause why we are met
+	Is, to determine of the coronation.
+	In God's name, speak: when is the royal day?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Are all things fitting for that royal time?
+
+DERBY	It is, and wants but nomination.
+
+BISHOP OF ELY	To-morrow, then, I judge a happy day.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Who knows the lord protector's mind herein?
+	Who is most inward with the royal duke?
+
+BISHOP OF ELY	Your grace, we think, should soonest know his mind.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Who, I, my lord I we know each other's faces,
+	But for our hearts, he knows no more of mine,
+	Than I of yours;
+	Nor I no more of his, than you of mine.
+	Lord Hastings, you and he are near in love.
+
+HASTINGS	I thank his grace, I know he loves me well;
+	But, for his purpose in the coronation.
+	I have not sounded him, nor he deliver'd
+	His gracious pleasure any way therein:
+	But you, my noble lords, may name the time;
+	And in the duke's behalf I'll give my voice,
+	Which, I presume, he'll take in gentle part.
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER]
+
+BISHOP OF ELY	Now in good time, here comes the duke himself.
+
+GLOUCESTER	My noble lords and cousins all, good morrow.
+	I have been long a sleeper; but, I hope,
+	My absence doth neglect no great designs,
+	Which by my presence might have been concluded.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Had not you come upon your cue, my lord
+	William Lord Hastings had pronounced your part,--
+	I mean, your voice,--for crowning of the king.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Than my Lord Hastings no man might be bolder;
+	His lordship knows me well, and loves me well.
+
+HASTINGS	I thank your grace.
+
+GLOUCESTER	My lord of Ely!
+
+BISHOP OF ELY	My lord?
+
+GLOUCESTER	When I was last in Holborn,
+	I saw good strawberries in your garden there
+	I do beseech you send for some of them.
+
+BISHOP OF ELY	Marry, and will, my lord, with all my heart.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Cousin of Buckingham, a word with you.
+
+	[Drawing him aside]
+
+	Catesby hath sounded Hastings in our business,
+	And finds the testy gentleman so hot,
+	As he will lose his head ere give consent
+	His master's son, as worshipful as he terms it,
+	Shall lose the royalty of England's throne.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Withdraw you hence, my lord, I'll follow you.
+
+	[Exit GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM following]
+
+DERBY	We have not yet set down this day of triumph.
+	To-morrow, in mine opinion, is too sudden;
+	For I myself am not so well provided
+	As else I would be, were the day prolong'd.
+
+	[Re-enter BISHOP OF ELY]
+
+BISHOP OF ELY	Where is my lord protector? I have sent for these
+	strawberries.
+
+HASTINGS	His grace looks cheerfully and smooth to-day;
+	There's some conceit or other likes him well,
+	When he doth bid good morrow with such a spirit.
+	I think there's never a man in Christendom
+	That can less hide his love or hate than he;
+	For by his face straight shall you know his heart.
+
+DERBY	What of his heart perceive you in his face
+	By any likelihood he show'd to-day?
+
+HASTINGS	Marry, that with no man here he is offended;
+	For, were he, he had shown it in his looks.
+
+DERBY	I pray God he be not, I say.
+
+	[Re-enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM]
+
+GLOUCESTER	I pray you all, tell me what they deserve
+	That do conspire my death with devilish plots
+	Of damned witchcraft, and that have prevail'd
+	Upon my body with their hellish charms?
+
+HASTINGS	The tender love I bear your grace, my lord,
+	Makes me most forward in this noble presence
+	To doom the offenders, whatsoever they be
+	I say, my lord, they have deserved death.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Then be your eyes the witness of this ill:
+	See how I am bewitch'd; behold mine arm
+	Is, like a blasted sapling, wither'd up:
+	And this is Edward's wife, that monstrous witch,
+	Consorted with that harlot strumpet Shore,
+	That by their witchcraft thus have marked me.
+
+HASTINGS	If they have done this thing, my gracious lord--
+
+GLOUCESTER	If I thou protector of this damned strumpet--
+	Tellest thou me of 'ifs'?  Thou art a traitor:
+	Off with his head! Now, by Saint Paul I swear,
+	I will not dine until I see the same.
+	Lovel and Ratcliff, look that it be done:
+	The rest, that love me, rise and follow me.
+
+	[Exeunt all but HASTINGS, RATCLIFF, and LOVEL]
+
+HASTINGS	Woe, woe for England! not a whit for me;
+	For I, too fond, might have prevented this.
+	Stanley did dream the boar did raze his helm;
+	But I disdain'd it, and did scorn to fly:
+	Three times to-day my foot-cloth horse did stumble,
+	And startled, when he look'd upon the Tower,
+	As loath to bear me to the slaughter-house.
+	O, now I want the priest that spake to me:
+	I now repent I told the pursuivant
+	As 'twere triumphing at mine enemies,
+	How they at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd,
+	And I myself secure in grace and favour.
+	O Margaret, Margaret, now thy heavy curse
+	Is lighted on poor Hastings' wretched head!
+
+RATCLIFF	Dispatch, my lord; the duke would be at dinner:
+	Make a short shrift; he longs to see your head.
+
+HASTINGS	O momentary grace of mortal men,
+	Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
+	Who builds his hopes in air of your good looks,
+	Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast,
+	Ready, with every nod, to tumble down
+	Into the fatal bowels of the deep.
+
+LOVEL	Come, come, dispatch; 'tis bootless to exclaim.
+
+HASTINGS	O bloody Richard! miserable England!
+	I prophesy the fearful'st time to thee
+	That ever wretched age hath look'd upon.
+	Come, lead me to the block; bear him my head.
+	They smile at me that shortly shall be dead.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The Tower-walls.
+
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM, in rotten armour,
+	marvellous ill-favoured]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Come, cousin, canst thou quake, and change thy colour,
+	Murder thy breath in the middle of a word,
+	And then begin again, and stop again,
+	As if thou wert distraught and mad with terror?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Tut, I can counterfeit the deep tragedian;
+	Speak and look back, and pry on every side,
+	Tremble and start at wagging of a straw,
+	Intending deep suspicion: ghastly looks
+	Are at my service, like enforced smiles;
+	And both are ready in their offices,
+	At any time, to grace my stratagems.
+	But what, is Catesby gone?
+
+GLOUCESTER	He is; and, see, he brings the mayor along.
+
+	[Enter the Lord Mayor and CATESBY]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Lord mayor,--
+
+GLOUCESTER	Look to the drawbridge there!
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Hark! a drum.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Catesby, o'erlook the walls.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Lord mayor, the reason we have sent--
+
+GLOUCESTER	Look back, defend thee, here are enemies.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	God and our innocency defend and guard us!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Be patient, they are friends, Ratcliff and Lovel.
+
+	[Enter LOVEL and RATCLIFF, with HASTINGS' head]
+
+LOVEL	Here is the head of that ignoble traitor,
+	The dangerous and unsuspected Hastings.
+
+GLOUCESTER	So dear I loved the man, that I must weep.
+	I took him for the plainest harmless creature
+	That breathed upon this earth a Christian;
+	Made him my book wherein my soul recorded
+	The history of all her secret thoughts:
+	So smooth he daub'd his vice with show of virtue,
+	That, his apparent open guilt omitted,
+	I mean, his conversation with Shore's wife,
+	He lived from all attainder of suspect.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Well, well, he was the covert'st shelter'd traitor
+	That ever lived.
+	Would you imagine, or almost believe,
+	Were't not that, by great preservation,
+	We live to tell it you, the subtle traitor
+	This day had plotted, in the council-house
+	To murder me and my good Lord of Gloucester?
+
+Lord Mayor	What, had he so?
+
+GLOUCESTER	What, think You we are Turks or infidels?
+	Or that we would, against the form of law,
+	Proceed thus rashly to the villain's death,
+	But that the extreme peril of the case,
+	The peace of England and our persons' safety,
+	Enforced us to this execution?
+
+Lord Mayor	Now, fair befall you! he deserved his death;
+	And you my good lords, both have well proceeded,
+	To warn false traitors from the like attempts.
+	I never look'd for better at his hands,
+	After he once fell in with Mistress Shore.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Yet had not we determined he should die,
+	Until your lordship came to see his death;
+	Which now the loving haste of these our friends,
+	Somewhat against our meaning, have prevented:
+	Because, my lord, we would have had you heard
+	The traitor speak, and timorously confess
+	The manner and the purpose of his treason;
+	That you might well have signified the same
+	Unto the citizens, who haply may
+	Misconstrue us in him and wail his death.
+
+Lord Mayor	But, my good lord, your grace's word shall serve,
+	As well as I had seen and heard him speak
+	And doubt you not, right noble princes both,
+	But I'll acquaint our duteous citizens
+	With all your just proceedings in this cause.
+
+GLOUCESTER	And to that end we wish'd your lord-ship here,
+	To avoid the carping censures of the world.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	But since you come too late of our intents,
+	Yet witness what you hear we did intend:
+	And so, my good lord mayor, we bid farewell.
+
+	[Exit Lord Mayor]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Go, after, after, cousin Buckingham.
+	The mayor towards Guildhall hies him in all post:
+	There, at your meet'st advantage of the time,
+	Infer the bastardy of Edward's children:
+	Tell them how Edward put to death a citizen,
+	Only for saying he would make his son
+	Heir to the crown; meaning indeed his house,
+	Which, by the sign thereof was termed so.
+	Moreover, urge his hateful luxury
+	And bestial appetite in change of lust;
+	Which stretched to their servants, daughters, wives,
+	Even where his lustful eye or savage heart,
+	Without control, listed to make his prey.
+	Nay, for a need, thus far come near my person:
+	Tell them, when that my mother went with child
+	Of that unsatiate Edward, noble York
+	My princely father then had wars in France
+	And, by just computation of the time,
+	Found that the issue was not his begot;
+	Which well appeared in his lineaments,
+	Being nothing like the noble duke my father:
+	But touch this sparingly, as 'twere far off,
+	Because you know, my lord, my mother lives.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Fear not, my lord, I'll play the orator
+	As if the golden fee for which I plead
+	Were for myself: and so, my lord, adieu.
+
+GLOUCESTER	If you thrive well, bring them to Baynard's Castle;
+	Where you shall find me well accompanied
+	With reverend fathers and well-learned bishops.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	I go: and towards three or four o'clock
+	Look for the news that the Guildhall affords.
+
+	[Exit BUCKINGHAM]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Go, Lovel, with all speed to Doctor Shaw;
+
+	[To CATESBY]
+
+	Go thou to Friar Penker; bid them both
+	Meet me within this hour at Baynard's Castle.
+
+	[Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER]
+
+	Now will I in, to take some privy order,
+	To draw the brats of Clarence out of sight;
+	And to give notice, that no manner of person
+	At any time have recourse unto the princes.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter a Scrivener, with a paper in his hand]
+
+Scrivener	This is the indictment of the good Lord Hastings;
+	Which in a set hand fairly is engross'd,
+	That it may be this day read over in Paul's.
+	And mark how well the sequel hangs together:
+	Eleven hours I spent to write it over,
+	For yesternight by Catesby was it brought me;
+	The precedent was full as long a-doing:
+	And yet within these five hours lived Lord Hastings,
+	Untainted, unexamined, free, at liberty
+	Here's a good world the while! Why who's so gross,
+	That seeth not this palpable device?
+	Yet who's so blind, but says he sees it not?
+	Bad is the world; and all will come to nought,
+	When such bad dealings must be seen in thought.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Baynard's Castle.
+
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM, at several doors]
+
+GLOUCESTER	How now, my lord, what say the citizens?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Now, by the holy mother of our Lord,
+	The citizens are mum and speak not a word.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Touch'd you the bastardy of Edward's children?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	I did; with his contract with Lady Lucy,
+	And his contract by deputy in France;
+	The insatiate greediness of his desires,
+	And his enforcement of the city wives;
+	His tyranny for trifles; his own bastardy,
+	As being got, your father then in France,
+	His resemblance, being not like the duke;
+	Withal I did infer your lineaments,
+	Being the right idea of your father,
+	Both in your form and nobleness of mind;
+	Laid open all your victories in Scotland,
+	Your dicipline in war, wisdom in peace,
+	Your bounty, virtue, fair humility:
+	Indeed, left nothing fitting for the purpose
+	Untouch'd, or slightly handled, in discourse
+	And when mine oratory grew to an end
+	I bid them that did love their country's good
+	Cry 'God save Richard, England's royal king!'
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ah! and did they so?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	No, so God help me, they spake not a word;
+	But, like dumb statues or breathing stones,
+	Gazed each on other, and look'd deadly pale.
+	Which when I saw, I reprehended them;
+	And ask'd the mayor what meant this wilful silence:
+	His answer was, the people were not wont
+	To be spoke to but by the recorder.
+	Then he was urged to tell my tale again,
+	'Thus saith the duke, thus hath the duke inferr'd;'
+	But nothing spake in warrant from himself.
+	When he had done, some followers of mine own,
+	At the lower end of the hall, hurl'd up their caps,
+	And some ten voices cried 'God save King Richard!'
+	And thus I took the vantage of those few,
+	'Thanks, gentle citizens and friends,' quoth I;
+	'This general applause and loving shout
+	Argues your wisdoms and your love to Richard:'
+	And even here brake off, and came away.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What tongueless blocks were they! would not they speak?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	No, by my troth, my lord.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Will not the mayor then and his brethren come?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	The mayor is here at hand: intend some fear;
+	Be not you spoke with, but by mighty suit:
+	And look you get a prayer-book in your hand,
+	And stand betwixt two churchmen, good my lord;
+	For on that ground I'll build a holy descant:
+	And be not easily won to our request:
+	Play the maid's part, still answer nay, and take it.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I go; and if you plead as well for them
+	As I can say nay to thee for myself,
+	No doubt well bring it to a happy issue.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Go, go, up to the leads; the lord mayor knocks.
+
+	[Exit GLOUCESTER]
+
+	[Enter the Lord Mayor and Citizens]
+
+	Welcome my lord; I dance attendance here;
+	I think the duke will not be spoke withal.
+
+	[Enter CATESBY]
+
+	Here comes his servant: how now, Catesby,
+	What says he?
+
+CATESBY	             My lord: he doth entreat your grace;
+	To visit him to-morrow or next day:
+	He is within, with two right reverend fathers,
+	Divinely bent to meditation;
+	And no worldly suit would he be moved,
+	To draw him from his holy exercise.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Return, good Catesby, to thy lord again;
+	Tell him, myself, the mayor and citizens,
+	In deep designs and matters of great moment,
+	No less importing than our general good,
+	Are come to have some conference with his grace.
+
+CATESBY	I'll tell him what you say, my lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Ah, ha, my lord, this prince is not an Edward!
+	He is not lolling on a lewd day-bed,
+	But on his knees at meditation;
+	Not dallying with a brace of courtezans,
+	But meditating with two deep divines;
+	Not sleeping, to engross his idle body,
+	But praying, to enrich his watchful soul:
+	Happy were England, would this gracious prince
+	Take on himself the sovereignty thereof:
+	But, sure, I fear, we shall ne'er win him to it.
+
+Lord Mayor	Marry, God forbid his grace should say us nay!
+
+BUCKINGHAM	I fear he will.
+
+	[Re-enter CATESBY]
+
+	How now, Catesby, what says your lord?
+
+CATESBY	My lord,
+	He wonders to what end you have assembled
+	Such troops of citizens to speak with him,
+	His grace not being warn'd thereof before:
+	My lord, he fears you mean no good to him.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Sorry I am my noble cousin should
+	Suspect me, that I mean no good to him:
+	By heaven, I come in perfect love to him;
+	And so once more return and tell his grace.
+
+	[Exit CATESBY]
+
+	When holy and devout religious men
+	Are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence,
+	So sweet is zealous contemplation.
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER aloft, between two Bishops.
+	CATESBY returns]
+
+Lord Mayor	See, where he stands between two clergymen!
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Two props of virtue for a Christian prince,
+	To stay him from the fall of vanity:
+	And, see, a book of prayer in his hand,
+	True ornaments to know a holy man.
+	Famous Plantagenet, most gracious prince,
+	Lend favourable ears to our request;
+	And pardon us the interruption
+	Of thy devotion and right Christian zeal.
+
+GLOUCESTER	My lord, there needs no such apology:
+	I rather do beseech you pardon me,
+	Who, earnest in the service of my God,
+	Neglect the visitation of my friends.
+	But, leaving this, what is your grace's pleasure?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above,
+	And all good men of this ungovern'd isle.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I do suspect I have done some offence
+	That seems disgracious in the city's eyes,
+	And that you come to reprehend my ignorance.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	You have, my lord: would it might please your grace,
+	At our entreaties, to amend that fault!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Then know, it is your fault that you resign
+	The supreme seat, the throne majestical,
+	The scepter'd office of your ancestors,
+	Your state of fortune and your due of birth,
+	The lineal glory of your royal house,
+	To the corruption of a blemished stock:
+	Whilst, in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts,
+	Which here we waken to our country's good,
+	This noble isle doth want her proper limbs;
+	Her face defaced with scars of infamy,
+	Her royal stock graft with ignoble plants,
+	And almost shoulder'd in the swallowing gulf
+	Of blind forgetfulness and dark oblivion.
+	Which to recure, we heartily solicit
+	Your gracious self to take on you the charge
+	And kingly government of this your land,
+	Not as protector, steward, substitute,
+	Or lowly factor for another's gain;
+	But as successively from blood to blood,
+	Your right of birth, your empery, your own.
+	For this, consorted with the citizens,
+	Your very worshipful and loving friends,
+	And by their vehement instigation,
+	In this just suit come I to move your grace.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I know not whether to depart in silence,
+	Or bitterly to speak in your reproof.
+	Best fitteth my degree or your condition
+	If not to answer, you might haply think
+	Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded
+	To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty,
+	Which fondly you would here impose on me;
+	If to reprove you for this suit of yours,
+	So season'd with your faithful love to me.
+	Then, on the other side, I cheque'd my friends.
+	Therefore, to speak, and to avoid the first,
+	And then, in speaking, not to incur the last,
+	Definitively thus I answer you.
+	Your love deserves my thanks; but my desert
+	Unmeritable shuns your high request.
+	First if all obstacles were cut away,
+	And that my path were even to the crown,
+	As my ripe revenue and due by birth
+	Yet so much is my poverty of spirit,
+	So mighty and so many my defects,
+	As I had rather hide me from my greatness,
+	Being a bark to brook no mighty sea,
+	Than in my greatness covet to be hid,
+	And in the vapour of my glory smother'd.
+	But, God be thank'd, there's no need of me,
+	And much I need to help you, if need were;
+	The royal tree hath left us royal fruit,
+	Which, mellow'd by the stealing hours of time,
+	Will well become the seat of majesty,
+	And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign.
+	On him I lay what you would lay on me,
+	The right and fortune of his happy stars;
+	Which God defend that I should wring from him!
+
+BUCKINGHAM	My lord, this argues conscience in your grace;
+	But the respects thereof are nice and trivial,
+	All circumstances well considered.
+	You say that Edward is your brother's son:
+	So say we too, but not by Edward's wife;
+	For first he was contract to Lady Lucy--
+	Your mother lives a witness to that vow--
+	And afterward by substitute betroth'd
+	To Bona, sister to the King of France.
+	These both put by a poor petitioner,
+	A care-crazed mother of a many children,
+	A beauty-waning and distressed widow,
+	Even in the afternoon of her best days,
+	Made prize and purchase of his lustful eye,
+	Seduced the pitch and height of all his thoughts
+	To base declension and loathed bigamy
+	By her, in his unlawful bed, he got
+	This Edward, whom our manners term the prince.
+	More bitterly could I expostulate,
+	Save that, for reverence to some alive,
+	I give a sparing limit to my tongue.
+	Then, good my lord, take to your royal self
+	This proffer'd benefit of dignity;
+	If non to bless us and the land withal,
+	Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry
+	From the corruption of abusing times,
+	Unto a lineal true-derived course.
+
+Lord Mayor	Do, good my lord, your citizens entreat you.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer'd love.
+
+CATESBY	O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Alas, why would you heap these cares on me?
+	I am unfit for state and majesty;
+	I do beseech you, take it not amiss;
+	I cannot nor I will not yield to you.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	If you refuse it,--as, in love and zeal,
+	Loath to depose the child, Your brother's son;
+	As well we know your tenderness of heart
+	And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,
+	Which we have noted in you to your kin,
+	And egally indeed to all estates,--
+	Yet whether you accept our suit or no,
+	Your brother's son shall never reign our king;
+	But we will plant some other in the throne,
+	To the disgrace and downfall of your house:
+	And in this resolution here we leave you.--
+	Come, citizens: 'zounds! I'll entreat no more.
+
+GLOUCESTER	O, do not swear, my lord of Buckingham.
+
+	[Exit BUCKINGHAM with the Citizens]
+
+CATESBY	Call them again, my lord, and accept their suit.
+
+ANOTHER	Do, good my lord, lest all the land do rue it.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Would you enforce me to a world of care?
+	Well, call them again. I am not made of stone,
+	But penetrable to your. kind entreats,
+	Albeit against my conscience and my soul.
+
+	[Re-enter BUCKINGHAM and the rest]
+
+	Cousin of Buckingham, and you sage, grave men,
+	Since you will buckle fortune on my back,
+	To bear her burthen, whether I will or no,
+	I must have patience to endure the load:
+	But if black scandal or foul-faced reproach
+	Attend the sequel of your imposition,
+	Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me
+	From all the impure blots and stains thereof;
+	For God he knows, and you may partly see,
+	How far I am from the desire thereof.
+
+Lord Mayor	God bless your grace! we see it, and will say it.
+
+GLOUCESTER	In saying so, you shall but say the truth.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Then I salute you with this kingly title:
+	Long live Richard, England's royal king!
+
+
+Lord Mayor	|
+	|  Amen.
+Citizens	|
+
+
+BUCKINGHAM	To-morrow will it please you to be crown'd?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Even when you please, since you will have it so.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	To-morrow, then, we will attend your grace:
+	And so most joyfully we take our leave.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Come, let us to our holy task again.
+	Farewell, good cousin; farewell, gentle friends.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before the Tower.
+
+
+	[Enter, on one side, QUEEN ELIZABETH, DUCHESS OF
+	YORK, and DORSET; on the other, ANNE, Duchess of
+	Gloucester, leading Lady Margaret Plantagenet,
+	CLARENCE's young Daughter]
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Who meets us here?  my niece Plantagenet
+	Led in the hand of her kind aunt of Gloucester?
+	Now, for my life, she's wandering to the Tower,
+	On pure heart's love to greet the tender princes.
+	Daughter, well met.
+
+LADY ANNE	God give your graces both
+	A happy and a joyful time of day!
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	As much to you, good sister! Whither away?
+
+LADY ANNE	No farther than the Tower; and, as I guess,
+	Upon the like devotion as yourselves,
+	To gratulate the gentle princes there.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Kind sister, thanks: we'll enter all together.
+
+	[Enter BRAKENBURY]
+
+	And, in good time, here the lieutenant comes.
+	Master lieutenant, pray you, by your leave,
+	How doth the prince, and my young son of York?
+
+BRAKENBURY	Right well, dear madam. By your patience,
+	I may not suffer you to visit them;
+	The king hath straitly charged the contrary.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	The king! why, who's that?
+
+BRAKENBURY	I cry you mercy: I mean the lord protector.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	The Lord protect him from that kingly title!
+	Hath he set bounds betwixt their love and me?
+	I am their mother; who should keep me from them?
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	I am their fathers mother; I will see them.
+
+LADY ANNE	Their aunt I am in law, in love their mother:
+	Then bring me to their sights; I'll bear thy blame
+	And take thy office from thee, on my peril.
+
+BRAKENBURY	No, madam, no; I may not leave it so:
+	I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter LORD STANLEY]
+
+LORD STANLEY	Let me but meet you, ladies, one hour hence,
+	And I'll salute your grace of York as mother,
+	And reverend looker on, of two fair queens.
+
+	[To LADY ANNE]
+
+	Come, madam, you must straight to Westminster,
+	There to be crowned Richard's royal queen.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	O, cut my lace in sunder, that my pent heart
+	May have some scope to beat, or else I swoon
+	With this dead-killing news!
+
+LADY ANNE	Despiteful tidings! O unpleasing news!
+
+DORSET	Be of good cheer: mother, how fares your grace?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee hence!
+	Death and destruction dog thee at the heels;
+	Thy mother's name is ominous to children.
+	If thou wilt outstrip death, go cross the seas,
+	And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell
+	Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughter-house,
+	Lest thou increase the number of the dead;
+	And make me die the thrall of Margaret's curse,
+	Nor mother, wife, nor England's counted queen.
+
+LORD STANLEY	Full of wise care is this your counsel, madam.
+	Take all the swift advantage of the hours;
+	You shall have letters from me to my son
+	To meet you on the way, and welcome you.
+	Be not ta'en tardy by unwise delay.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	O ill-dispersing wind of misery!
+	O my accursed womb, the bed of death!
+	A cockatrice hast thou hatch'd to the world,
+	Whose unavoided eye is murderous.
+
+LORD STANLEY	Come, madam, come; I in all haste was sent.
+
+LADY ANNE	And I in all unwillingness will go.
+	I would to God that the inclusive verge
+	Of golden metal that must round my brow
+	Were red-hot steel, to sear me to the brain!
+	Anointed let me be with deadly venom,
+	And die, ere men can say, God save the queen!
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory
+	To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm.
+
+LADY ANNE	No! why?  When he that is my husband now
+	Came to me, as I follow'd Henry's corse,
+	When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his hands
+	Which issued from my other angel husband
+	And that dead saint which then I weeping follow'd;
+	O, when, I say, I look'd on Richard's face,
+	This was my wish: 'Be thou,' quoth I, ' accursed,
+	For making me, so young, so old a widow!
+	And, when thou wed'st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;
+	And be thy wife--if any be so mad--
+	As miserable by the life of thee
+	As thou hast made me by my dear lord's death!
+	Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,
+	Even in so short a space, my woman's heart
+	Grossly grew captive to his honey words
+	And proved the subject of my own soul's curse,
+	Which ever since hath kept my eyes from rest;
+	For never yet one hour in his bed
+	Have I enjoy'd the golden dew of sleep,
+	But have been waked by his timorous dreams.
+	Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick;
+	And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Poor heart, adieu! I pity thy complaining.
+
+LADY ANNE	No more than from my soul I mourn for yours.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Farewell, thou woful welcomer of glory!
+
+LADY ANNE	Adieu, poor soul, that takest thy leave of it!
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	[To DORSET]
+
+	Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee!
+
+	[To LADY ANNE]
+
+	Go thou to Richard, and good angels guard thee!
+
+	[To QUEEN ELIZABETH]
+
+	Go thou to sanctuary, and good thoughts possess thee!
+	I to my grave, where peace and rest lie with me!
+	Eighty odd years of sorrow have I seen,
+	And each hour's joy wrecked with a week of teen.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Stay, yet look back with me unto the Tower.
+	Pity, you ancient stones, those tender babes
+	Whom envy hath immured within your walls!
+	Rough cradle for such little pretty ones!
+	Rude ragged nurse, old sullen playfellow
+	For tender princes, use my babies well!
+	So foolish sorrow bids your stones farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	London. The palace.
+
+
+	[Sennet. Enter KING RICHARD III, in pomp, crowned;
+	BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, a page, and others]
+
+KING RICHARD III	Stand all apart Cousin of Buckingham!
+
+BUCKINGHAM	My gracious sovereign?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Give me thy hand.
+
+	[Here he ascendeth his throne]
+
+	Thus high, by thy advice
+	And thy assistance, is King Richard seated;
+	But shall we wear these honours for a day?
+	Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Still live they and for ever may they last!
+
+KING RICHARD III	O Buckingham, now do I play the touch,
+	To try if thou be current gold indeed
+	Young Edward lives: think now what I would say.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Say on, my loving lord.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Why, Buckingham, I say, I would be king,
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Why, so you are, my thrice renowned liege.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Ha! am I king? 'tis so: but Edward lives.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	True, noble prince.
+
+KING RICHARD III	O bitter consequence,
+	That Edward still should live! 'True, noble prince!'
+	Cousin, thou wert not wont to be so dull:
+	Shall I be plain? I wish the bastards dead;
+	And I would have it suddenly perform'd.
+	What sayest thou? speak suddenly; be brief.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Your grace may do your pleasure.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Tut, tut, thou art all ice, thy kindness freezeth:
+	Say, have I thy consent that they shall die?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Give me some breath, some little pause, my lord
+	Before I positively herein:
+	I will resolve your grace immediately.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CATESBY	[Aside to a stander by]
+
+	The king is angry: see, he bites the lip.
+
+KING RICHARD III	I will converse with iron-witted fools
+	And unrespective boys: none are for me
+	That look into me with considerate eyes:
+	High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect.
+	Boy!
+
+Page	My lord?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Know'st thou not any whom corrupting gold
+	Would tempt unto a close exploit of death?
+
+Page	My lord, I know a discontented gentleman,
+	Whose humble means match not his haughty mind:
+	Gold were as good as twenty orators,
+	And will, no doubt, tempt him to any thing.
+
+KING RICHARD III	What is his name?
+
+Page	                His name, my lord, is Tyrrel.
+
+KING RICHARD III	I partly know the man: go, call him hither.
+
+	[Exit Page]
+
+	The deep-revolving witty Buckingham
+	No more shall be the neighbour to my counsel:
+	Hath he so long held out with me untired,
+	And stops he now for breath?
+
+	[Enter STANLEY]
+
+	How now! what news with you?
+
+STANLEY	My lord, I hear the Marquis Dorset's fled
+	To Richmond, in those parts beyond the sea
+	Where he abides.
+
+	[Stands apart]
+
+KING RICHARD III	Catesby!
+
+CATESBY	       My lord?
+
+KING RICHARD III	                         Rumour it abroad
+	That Anne, my wife, is sick and like to die:
+	I will take order for her keeping close.
+	Inquire me out some mean-born gentleman,
+	Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' daughter:
+	The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.
+	Look, how thou dream'st! I say again, give out
+	That Anne my wife is sick and like to die:
+	About it; for it stands me much upon,
+	To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me.
+
+	[Exit CATESBY]
+
+	I must be married to my brother's daughter,
+	Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass.
+	Murder her brothers, and then marry her!
+	Uncertain way of gain! But I am in
+	So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin:
+	Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
+
+	[Re-enter Page, with TYRREL]
+
+	Is thy name Tyrrel?
+
+TYRREL	James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Art thou, indeed?
+
+TYRREL	           Prove me, my gracious sovereign.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Darest thou resolve to kill a friend of mine?
+
+TYRREL	Ay, my lord;
+	But I had rather kill two enemies.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Why, there thou hast it: two deep enemies,
+	Foes to my rest and my sweet sleep's disturbers
+	Are they that I would have thee deal upon:
+	Tyrrel, I mean those bastards in the Tower.
+
+TYRREL	Let me have open means to come to them,
+	And soon I'll rid you from the fear of them.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrel
+	Go, by this token: rise, and lend thine ear:
+
+	[Whispers]
+
+	There is no more but so: say it is done,
+	And I will love thee, and prefer thee too.
+
+TYRREL	'Tis done, my gracious lord.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Shall we hear from thee, Tyrrel, ere we sleep?
+
+TYRREL	Ye shall, my Lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter BUCKINGHAM]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	My Lord, I have consider'd in my mind
+	The late demand that you did sound me in.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Well, let that pass. Dorset is fled to Richmond.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	I hear that news, my lord.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Stanley, he is your wife's son well, look to it.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	My lord, I claim your gift, my due by promise,
+	For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd;
+	The earldom of Hereford and the moveables
+	The which you promised I should possess.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Stanley, look to your wife; if she convey
+	Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	What says your highness to my just demand?
+
+KING RICHARD III	As I remember, Henry the Sixth
+	Did prophesy that Richmond should be king,
+	When Richmond was a little peevish boy.
+	A king, perhaps, perhaps,--
+
+BUCKINGHAM	My lord!
+
+KING RICHARD III	How chance the prophet could not at that time
+	Have told me, I being by, that I should kill him?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	My lord, your promise for the earldom,--
+
+KING RICHARD III	Richmond! When last I was at Exeter,
+	The mayor in courtesy show'd me the castle,
+	And call'd it Rougemont: at which name I started,
+	Because a bard of Ireland told me once
+	I should not live long after I saw Richmond.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	My Lord!
+
+KING RICHARD III	       Ay, what's o'clock?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	I am thus bold to put your grace in mind
+	Of what you promised me.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Well, but what's o'clock?
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Upon the stroke of ten.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Well, let it strike.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Why let it strike?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Because that, like a Jack, thou keep'st the stroke
+	Betwixt thy begging and my meditation.
+	I am not in the giving vein to-day.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Why, then resolve me whether you will or no.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Tut, tut,
+	Thou troublest me; am not in the vein.
+
+	[Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Is it even so? rewards he my true service
+	With such deep contempt made I him king for this?
+	O, let me think on Hastings, and be gone
+	To Brecknock, while my fearful head is on!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter TYRREL]
+
+TYRREL	The tyrannous and bloody deed is done.
+	The most arch of piteous massacre
+	That ever yet this land was guilty of.
+	Dighton and Forrest, whom I did suborn
+	To do this ruthless piece of butchery,
+	Although they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs,
+	Melting with tenderness and kind compassion
+	Wept like two children in their deaths' sad stories.
+	'Lo, thus' quoth Dighton, 'lay those tender babes:'
+	'Thus, thus,' quoth Forrest, 'girdling one another
+	Within their innocent alabaster arms:
+	Their lips were four red roses on a stalk,
+	Which in their summer beauty kiss'd each other.
+	A book of prayers on their pillow lay;
+	Which once,' quoth Forrest, 'almost changed my mind;
+	But O! the devil'--there the villain stopp'd
+	Whilst Dighton thus told on: 'We smothered
+	The most replenished sweet work of nature,
+	That from the prime creation e'er she framed.'
+	Thus both are gone with conscience and remorse;
+	They could not speak; and so I left them both,
+	To bring this tidings to the bloody king.
+	And here he comes.
+
+	[Enter KING RICHARD III]
+
+	All hail, my sovereign liege!
+
+KING RICHARD III	Kind Tyrrel, am I happy in thy news?
+
+TYRREL	If to have done the thing you gave in charge
+	Beget your happiness, be happy then,
+	For it is done, my lord.
+
+KING RICHARD III	But didst thou see them dead?
+
+TYRREL	I did, my lord.
+
+KING RICHARD III	                 And buried, gentle Tyrrel?
+
+TYRREL	The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them;
+	But how or in what place I do not know.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Come to me, Tyrrel, soon at after supper,
+	And thou shalt tell the process of their death.
+	Meantime, but think how I may do thee good,
+	And be inheritor of thy desire.
+	Farewell till soon.
+
+	[Exit TYRREL]
+
+	The son of Clarence have I pent up close;
+	His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage;
+	The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom,
+	And Anne my wife hath bid the world good night.
+	Now, for I know the Breton Richmond aims
+	At young Elizabeth, my brother's daughter,
+	And, by that knot, looks proudly o'er the crown,
+	To her I go, a jolly thriving wooer.
+
+	[Enter CATESBY]
+
+CATESBY	My lord!
+
+KING RICHARD III	Good news or bad, that thou comest in so bluntly?
+
+CATESBY	Bad news, my lord: Ely is fled to Richmond;
+	And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welshmen,
+	Is in the field, and still his power increaseth.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Ely with Richmond troubles me more near
+	Than Buckingham and his rash-levied army.
+	Come, I have heard that fearful commenting
+	Is leaden servitor to dull delay;
+	Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary
+	Then fiery expedition be my wing,
+	Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king!
+	Come, muster men: my counsel is my shield;
+	We must be brief when traitors brave the field.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Before the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter QUEEN MARGARET]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	So, now prosperity begins to mellow
+	And drop into the rotten mouth of death.
+	Here in these confines slily have I lurk'd,
+	To watch the waning of mine adversaries.
+	A dire induction am I witness to,
+	And will to France, hoping the consequence
+	Will prove as bitter, black, and tragical.
+	Withdraw thee, wretched Margaret: who comes here?
+
+	[Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH and the DUCHESS OF YORK]
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Ah, my young princes! ah, my tender babes!
+	My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets!
+	If yet your gentle souls fly in the air
+	And be not fix'd in doom perpetual,
+	Hover about me with your airy wings
+	And hear your mother's lamentation!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Hover about her; say, that right for right
+	Hath dimm'd your infant morn to aged night.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	So many miseries have crazed my voice,
+	That my woe-wearied tongue is mute and dumb,
+	Edward Plantagenet, why art thou dead?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Plantagenet doth quit Plantagenet.
+	Edward for Edward pays a dying debt.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Wilt thou, O God, fly from such gentle lambs,
+	And throw them in the entrails of the wolf?
+	When didst thou sleep when such a deed was done?
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	When holy Harry died, and my sweet son.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Blind sight, dead life, poor mortal living ghost,
+	Woe's scene, world's shame, grave's due by life usurp'd,
+	Brief abstract and record of tedious days,
+	Rest thy unrest on England's lawful earth,
+
+	[Sitting down]
+
+	Unlawfully made drunk with innocents' blood!
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	O, that thou wouldst as well afford a grave
+	As thou canst yield a melancholy seat!
+	Then would I hide my bones, not rest them here.
+	O, who hath any cause to mourn but I?
+
+	[Sitting down by her]
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	If ancient sorrow be most reverend,
+	Give mine the benefit of seniory,
+	And let my woes frown on the upper hand.
+	If sorrow can admit society,
+
+	[Sitting down with them]
+
+	Tell o'er your woes again by viewing mine:
+	I had an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him;
+	I had a Harry, till a Richard kill'd him:
+	Thou hadst an Edward, till a Richard kill'd him;
+	Thou hadst a Richard, till a Richard killed him;
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	I had a Richard too, and thou didst kill him;
+	I had a Rutland too, thou holp'st to kill him.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Thou hadst a Clarence too, and Richard kill'd him.
+	From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept
+	A hell-hound that doth hunt us all to death:
+	That dog, that had his teeth before his eyes,
+	To worry lambs and lap their gentle blood,
+	That foul defacer of God's handiwork,
+	That excellent grand tyrant of the earth,
+	That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls,
+	Thy womb let loose, to chase us to our graves.
+	O upright, just, and true-disposing God,
+	How do I thank thee, that this carnal cur
+	Preys on the issue of his mother's body,
+	And makes her pew-fellow with others' moan!
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	O Harry's wife, triumph not in my woes!
+	God witness with me, I have wept for thine.
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Bear with me; I am hungry for revenge,
+	And now I cloy me with beholding it.
+	Thy Edward he is dead, that stabb'd my Edward:
+	Thy other Edward dead, to quit my Edward;
+	Young York he is but boot, because both they
+	Match not the high perfection of my loss:
+	Thy Clarence he is dead that kill'd my Edward;
+	And the beholders of this tragic play,
+	The adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey,
+	Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves.
+	Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer,
+	Only reserved their factor, to buy souls
+	And send them thither: but at hand, at hand,
+	Ensues his piteous and unpitied end:
+	Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray.
+	To have him suddenly convey'd away.
+	Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I prey,
+	That I may live to say, The dog is dead!
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	O, thou didst prophesy the time would come
+	That I should wish for thee to help me curse
+	That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	I call'd thee then vain flourish of my fortune;
+	I call'd thee then poor shadow, painted queen;
+	The presentation of but what I was;
+	The flattering index of a direful pageant;
+	One heaved a-high, to be hurl'd down below;
+	A mother only mock'd with two sweet babes;
+	A dream of what thou wert, a breath, a bubble,
+	A sign of dignity, a garish flag,
+	To be the aim of every dangerous shot,
+	A queen in jest, only to fill the scene.
+	Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers?
+	Where are thy children? wherein dost thou, joy?
+	Who sues to thee and cries 'God save the queen'?
+	Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee?
+	Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee?
+	Decline all this, and see what now thou art:
+	For happy wife, a most distressed widow;
+	For joyful mother, one that wails the name;
+	For queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care;
+	For one being sued to, one that humbly sues;
+	For one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me;
+	For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one;
+	For one commanding all, obey'd of none.
+	Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about,
+	And left thee but a very prey to time;
+	Having no more but thought of what thou wert,
+	To torture thee the more, being what thou art.
+	Thou didst usurp my place, and dost thou not
+	Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow?
+	Now thy proud neck bears half my burthen'd yoke;
+	From which even here I slip my weary neck,
+	And leave the burthen of it all on thee.
+	Farewell, York's wife, and queen of sad mischance:
+	These English woes will make me smile in France.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	O thou well skill'd in curses, stay awhile,
+	And teach me how to curse mine enemies!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Forbear to sleep the nights, and fast the days;
+	Compare dead happiness with living woe;
+	Think that thy babes were fairer than they were,
+	And he that slew them fouler than he is:
+	Bettering thy loss makes the bad causer worse:
+	Revolving this will teach thee how to curse.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	My words are dull; O, quicken them with thine!
+
+QUEEN MARGARET	Thy woes will make them sharp, and pierce like mine.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Why should calamity be full of words?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Windy attorneys to their client woes,
+	Airy succeeders of intestate joys,
+	Poor breathing orators of miseries!
+	Let them have scope: though what they do impart
+	Help not all, yet do they ease the heart.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	If so, then be not tongue-tied: go with me.
+	And in the breath of bitter words let's smother
+	My damned son, which thy two sweet sons smother'd.
+	I hear his drum: be copious in exclaims.
+
+	[Enter KING RICHARD III, marching, with drums and trumpets]
+
+KING RICHARD III	Who intercepts my expedition?
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	O, she that might have intercepted thee,
+	By strangling thee in her accursed womb
+	From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done!
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Hidest thou that forehead with a golden crown,
+	Where should be graven, if that right were right,
+	The slaughter of the prince that owed that crown,
+	And the dire death of my two sons and brothers?
+	Tell me, thou villain slave, where are my children?
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother Clarence?
+	And little Ned Plantagenet, his son?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Where is kind Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey?
+
+KING RICHARD III	A flourish, trumpets! strike alarum, drums!
+	Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women
+	Rail on the Lord's enointed: strike, I say!
+
+	[Flourish. Alarums]
+
+	Either be patient, and entreat me fair,
+	Or with the clamorous report of war
+	Thus will I drown your exclamations.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Art thou my son?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Then patiently hear my impatience.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Madam, I have a touch of your condition,
+	Which cannot brook the accent of reproof.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	O, let me speak!
+
+KING RICHARD III	                  Do then: but I'll not hear.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	I will be mild and gentle in my speech.
+
+KING RICHARD III	And brief, good mother; for I am in haste.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Art thou so hasty? I have stay'd for thee,
+	God knows, in anguish, pain and agony.
+
+KING RICHARD III	And came I not at last to comfort you?
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well,
+	Thou camest on earth to make the earth my hell.
+	A grievous burthen was thy birth to me;
+	Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;
+	Thy school-days frightful, desperate, wild, and furious,
+	Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous,
+	Thy age confirm'd, proud, subdued, bloody,
+	treacherous,
+	More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred:
+	What comfortable hour canst thou name,
+	That ever graced me in thy company?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that call'd
+	your grace
+	To breakfast once forth of my company.
+	If I be so disgracious in your sight,
+	Let me march on, and not offend your grace.
+	Strike the drum.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	                  I prithee, hear me speak.
+
+KING RICHARD III	You speak too bitterly.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Hear me a word;
+	For I shall never speak to thee again.
+
+KING RICHARD III	So.
+
+DUCHESS OF YORK	Either thou wilt die, by God's just ordinance,
+	Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror,
+	Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish
+	And never look upon thy face again.
+	Therefore take with thee my most heavy curse;
+	Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more
+	Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st!
+	My prayers on the adverse party fight;
+	And there the little souls of Edward's children
+	Whisper the spirits of thine enemies
+	And promise them success and victory.
+	Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end;
+	Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Though far more cause, yet much less spirit to curse
+	Abides in me; I say amen to all.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Stay, madam; I must speak a word with you.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	I have no more sons of the royal blood
+	For thee to murder: for my daughters, Richard,
+	They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens;
+	And therefore level not to hit their lives.
+
+KING RICHARD III	You have a daughter call'd Elizabeth,
+	Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	And must she die for this? O, let her live,
+	And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty;
+	Slander myself as false to Edward's bed;
+	Throw over her the veil of infamy:
+	So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter,
+	I will confess she was not Edward's daughter.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Wrong not her birth, she is of royal blood.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	To save her life, I'll say she is not so.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Her life is only safest in her birth.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	And only in that safety died her brothers.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Lo, at their births good stars were opposite.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	No, to their lives bad friends were contrary.
+
+KING RICHARD III	All unavoided is the doom of destiny.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	True, when avoided grace makes destiny:
+	My babes were destined to a fairer death,
+	If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life.
+
+KING RICHARD III	You speak as if that I had slain my cousins.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle cozen'd
+	Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.
+	Whose hand soever lanced their tender hearts,
+	Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction:
+	No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt
+	Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart,
+	To revel in the entrails of my lambs.
+	But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame,
+	My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys
+	Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes;
+	And I, in such a desperate bay of death,
+	Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft,
+	Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise
+	And dangerous success of bloody wars,
+	As I intend more good to you and yours,
+	Than ever you or yours were by me wrong'd!
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	What good is cover'd with the face of heaven,
+	To be discover'd, that can do me good?
+
+KING RICHARD III	The advancement of your children, gentle lady.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads?
+
+KING RICHARD III	No, to the dignity and height of honour
+	The high imperial type of this earth's glory.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Flatter my sorrows with report of it;
+	Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour,
+	Canst thou demise to any child of mine?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Even all I have; yea, and myself and all,
+	Will I withal endow a child of thine;
+	So in the Lethe of thy angry soul
+	Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs
+	Which thou supposest I have done to thee.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Be brief, lest that be process of thy kindness
+	Last longer telling than thy kindness' date.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Then know, that from my soul I love thy daughter.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul.
+
+KING RICHARD III	What do you think?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	That thou dost love my daughter from thy soul:
+	So from thy soul's love didst thou love her brothers;
+	And from my heart's love I do thank thee for it.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Be not so hasty to confound my meaning:
+	I mean, that with my soul I love thy daughter,
+	And mean to make her queen of England.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Say then, who dost thou mean shall be her king?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Even he that makes her queen who should be else?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	What, thou?
+
+KING RICHARD III	I, even I: what think you of it, madam?
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	How canst thou woo her?
+
+KING RICHARD III	That would I learn of you,
+	As one that are best acquainted with her humour.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	And wilt thou learn of me?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Madam, with all my heart.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Send to her, by the man that slew her brothers,
+	A pair of bleeding-hearts; thereon engrave
+	Edward and York; then haply she will weep:
+	Therefore present to her--as sometime Margaret
+	Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood,--
+	A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain
+	The purple sap from her sweet brother's body
+	And bid her dry her weeping eyes therewith.
+	If this inducement force her not to love,
+	Send her a story of thy noble acts;
+	Tell her thou madest away her uncle Clarence,
+	Her uncle Rivers; yea, and, for her sake,
+	Madest quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Come, come, you mock me; this is not the way
+	To win our daughter.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	There is no other way
+	Unless thou couldst put on some other shape,
+	And not be Richard that hath done all this.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Say that I did all this for love of her.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Nay, then indeed she cannot choose but hate thee,
+	Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Look, what is done cannot be now amended:
+	Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,
+	Which after hours give leisure to repent.
+	If I did take the kingdom from your sons,
+	To make amends, Ill give it to your daughter.
+	If I have kill'd the issue of your womb,
+	To quicken your increase, I will beget
+	Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter
+	A grandam's name is little less in love
+	Than is the doting title of a mother;
+	They are as children but one step below,
+	Even of your mettle, of your very blood;
+	Of an one pain, save for a night of groans
+	Endured of her, for whom you bid like sorrow.
+	Your children were vexation to your youth,
+	But mine shall be a comfort to your age.
+	The loss you have is but a son being king,
+	And by that loss your daughter is made queen.
+	I cannot make you what amends I would,
+	Therefore accept such kindness as I can.
+	Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul
+	Leads discontented steps in foreign soil,
+	This fair alliance quickly shall call home
+	To high promotions and great dignity:
+	The king, that calls your beauteous daughter wife.
+	Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother;
+	Again shall you be mother to a king,
+	And all the ruins of distressful times
+	Repair'd with double riches of content.
+	What! we have many goodly days to see:
+	The liquid drops of tears that you have shed
+	Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl,
+	Advantaging their loan with interest
+	Of ten times double gain of happiness.
+	Go, then my mother, to thy daughter go
+	Make bold her bashful years with your experience;
+	Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale
+	Put in her tender heart the aspiring flame
+	Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the princess
+	With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys
+	And when this arm of mine hath chastised
+	The petty rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham,
+	Bound with triumphant garlands will I come
+	And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed;
+	To whom I will retail my conquest won,
+	And she shall be sole victress, Caesar's Caesar.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	What were I best to say? her father's brother
+	Would be her lord? or shall I say, her uncle?
+	Or, he that slew her brothers and her uncles?
+	Under what title shall I woo for thee,
+	That God, the law, my honour and her love,
+	Can make seem pleasing to her tender years?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Infer fair England's peace by this alliance.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Which she shall purchase with still lasting war.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Say that the king, which may command, entreats.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	That at her hands which the king's King forbids.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Say, she shall be a high and mighty queen.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	To wail the tide, as her mother doth.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Say, I will love her everlastingly.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	But how long shall that title 'ever' last?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	But how long fairly shall her sweet lie last?
+
+KING RICHARD III	So long as heaven and nature lengthens it.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	So long as hell and Richard likes of it.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Say, I, her sovereign, am her subject love.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	But she, your subject, loathes such sovereignty.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Be eloquent in my behalf to her.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Then in plain terms tell her my loving tale.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Plain and not honest is too harsh a style.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Your reasons are too shallow and too quick.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	O no, my reasons are too deep and dead;
+	Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their grave.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Harp not on that string, madam; that is past.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Harp on it still shall I till heart-strings break.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Now, by my George, my garter, and my crown,--
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Profaned, dishonour'd, and the third usurp'd.
+
+KING RICHARD III	I swear--
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	        By nothing; for this is no oath:
+	The George, profaned, hath lost his holy honour;
+	The garter, blemish'd, pawn'd his knightly virtue;
+	The crown, usurp'd, disgraced his kingly glory.
+	if something thou wilt swear to be believed,
+	Swear then by something that thou hast not wrong'd.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Now, by the world--
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	'Tis full of thy foul wrongs.
+
+KING RICHARD III	My father's death--
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Thy life hath that dishonour'd.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Then, by myself--
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	                  Thyself thyself misusest.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Why then, by God--
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	                  God's wrong is most of all.
+	If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by Him,
+	The unity the king thy brother made
+	Had not been broken, nor my brother slain:
+	If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by Him,
+	The imperial metal, circling now thy brow,
+	Had graced the tender temples of my child,
+	And both the princes had been breathing here,
+	Which now, two tender playfellows to dust,
+	Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms.
+	What canst thou swear by now?
+
+KING RICHARD III	The time to come.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	That thou hast wronged in the time o'erpast;
+	For I myself have many tears to wash
+	Hereafter time, for time past wrong'd by thee.
+	The children live, whose parents thou hast
+	slaughter'd,
+	Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age;
+	The parents live, whose children thou hast butcher'd,
+	Old wither'd plants, to wail it with their age.
+	Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast
+	Misused ere used, by time misused o'erpast.
+
+KING RICHARD III	As I intend to prosper and repent,
+	So thrive I in my dangerous attempt
+	Of hostile arms! myself myself confound!
+	Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours!
+	Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy rest!
+	Be opposite all planets of good luck
+	To my proceedings, if, with pure heart's love,
+	Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,
+	I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter!
+	In her consists my happiness and thine;
+	Without her, follows to this land and me,
+	To thee, herself, and many a Christian soul,
+	Death, desolation, ruin and decay:
+	It cannot be avoided but by this;
+	It will not be avoided but by this.
+	Therefore, good mother,--I must can you so--
+	Be the attorney of my love to her:
+	Plead what I will be, not what I have been;
+	Not my deserts, but what I will deserve:
+	Urge the necessity and state of times,
+	And be not peevish-fond in great designs.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Shall I be tempted of the devil thus?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do good.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Shall I forget myself to be myself?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Ay, if yourself's remembrance wrong yourself.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	But thou didst kill my children.
+
+KING RICHARD III	But in your daughter's womb I bury them:
+	Where in that nest of spicery they shall breed
+	Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?
+
+KING RICHARD III	And be a happy mother by the deed.
+
+QUEEN ELIZABETH	I go. Write to me very shortly.
+	And you shall understand from me her mind.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Bear her my true love's kiss; and so, farewell.
+
+	[Exit QUEEN ELIZABETH]
+
+	Relenting fool, and shallow, changing woman!
+
+	[Enter RATCLIFF; CATESBY following]
+
+	How now! what news?
+
+RATCLIFF	My gracious sovereign, on the western coast
+	Rideth a puissant navy; to the shore
+	Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends,
+	Unarm'd, and unresolved to beat them back:
+	'Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral;
+	And there they hull, expecting but the aid
+	Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Norfolk:
+	Ratcliff, thyself, or Catesby; where is he?
+
+CATESBY	Here, my lord.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Fly to the duke:
+
+	[To RATCLIFF]
+
+	Post thou to Salisbury
+	When thou comest thither--
+
+	[To CATESBY]
+
+		     Dull, unmindful villain,
+	Why stand'st thou still, and go'st not to the duke?
+
+CATESBY	First, mighty sovereign, let me know your mind,
+	What from your grace I shall deliver to him.
+
+KING RICHARD III	O, true, good Catesby: bid him levy straight
+	The greatest strength and power he can make,
+	And meet me presently at Salisbury.
+
+CATESBY	I go.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+RATCLIFF	What is't your highness' pleasure I shall do at
+	Salisbury?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go?
+
+RATCLIFF	Your highness told me I should post before.
+
+KING RICHARD III	My mind is changed, sir, my mind is changed.
+
+	[Enter STANLEY]
+
+	How now, what news with you?
+
+STANLEY	None good, my lord, to please you with the hearing;
+	Nor none so bad, but it may well be told.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Hoyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad!
+	Why dost thou run so many mile about,
+	When thou mayst tell thy tale a nearer way?
+	Once more, what news?
+
+STANLEY	Richmond is on the seas.
+
+KING RICHARD III	There let him sink, and be the seas on him!
+	White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there?
+
+STANLEY	I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Well, sir, as you guess, as you guess?
+
+STANLEY	Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Ely,
+	He makes for England, there to claim the crown.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Is the chair empty? is the sword unsway'd?
+	Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd?
+	What heir of York is there alive but we?
+	And who is England's king but great York's heir?
+	Then, tell me, what doth he upon the sea?
+
+STANLEY	Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Unless for that he comes to be your liege,
+	You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes.
+	Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear.
+
+STANLEY	No, mighty liege; therefore mistrust me not.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Where is thy power, then, to beat him back?
+	Where are thy tenants and thy followers?
+	Are they not now upon the western shore.
+	Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships!
+
+STANLEY	No, my good lord, my friends are in the north.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Cold friends to Richard: what do they in the north,
+	When they should serve their sovereign in the west?
+
+STANLEY	They have not been commanded, mighty sovereign:
+	Please it your majesty to give me leave,
+	I'll muster up my friends, and meet your grace
+	Where and what time your majesty shall please.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Ay, ay. thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond:
+	I will not trust you, sir.
+
+STANLEY	Most mighty sovereign,
+	You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful:
+	I never was nor never will be false.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Well,
+	Go muster men; but, hear you, leave behind
+	Your son, George Stanley: look your faith be firm.
+	Or else his head's assurance is but frail.
+
+STANLEY	So deal with him as I prove true to you.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,
+	As I by friends am well advertised,
+	Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate
+	Bishop of Exeter, his brother there,
+	With many more confederates, are in arms.
+
+	[Enter another Messenger]
+
+Second Messenger	My liege, in Kent the Guildfords are in arms;
+	And every hour more competitors
+	Flock to their aid, and still their power increaseth.
+
+	[Enter another Messenger]
+
+Third Messenger	My lord, the army of the Duke of Buckingham--
+
+KING RICHARD III	Out on you, owls! nothing but songs of death?
+
+	[He striketh him]
+
+	Take that, until thou bring me better news.
+
+Third Messenger	The news I have to tell your majesty
+	Is, that by sudden floods and fall of waters,
+	Buckingham's army is dispersed and scatter'd;
+	And he himself wander'd away alone,
+	No man knows whither.
+
+KING RICHARD III	I cry thee mercy:
+	There is my purse to cure that blow of thine.
+	Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd
+	Reward to him that brings the traitor in?
+
+Third Messenger	Such proclamation hath been made, my liege.
+
+	[Enter another Messenger]
+
+Fourth Messenger	Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis Dorset,
+	'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms.
+	Yet this good comfort bring I to your grace,
+	The Breton navy is dispersed by tempest:
+	Richmond, in Yorkshire, sent out a boat
+	Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks
+	If they were his assistants, yea or no;
+	Who answer'd him, they came from Buckingham.
+	Upon his party: he, mistrusting them,
+	Hoisted sail and made away for Brittany.
+
+KING RICHARD III	March on, march on, since we are up in arms;
+	If not to fight with foreign enemies,
+	Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.
+
+	[Re-enter CATESBY]
+
+CATESBY	My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken;
+	That is the best news: that the Earl of Richmond
+	Is with a mighty power landed at Milford,
+	Is colder tidings, yet they must be told.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Away towards Salisbury! while we reason here,
+	A royal battle might be won and lost
+	Some one take order Buckingham be brought
+	To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Lord Derby's house.
+
+
+	[Enter DERBY and SIR CHRISTOPHER URSWICK]
+
+DERBY	Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me:
+	That in the sty of this most bloody boar
+	My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold:
+	If I revolt, off goes young George's head;
+	The fear of that withholds my present aid.
+	But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now?
+
+CHRISTOPHER	At Pembroke, or at Harford-west, in Wales.
+
+DERBY	What men of name resort to him?
+
+CHRISTOPHER	Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier;
+	Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley;
+	Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,
+	And Rice ap Thomas with a valiant crew;
+	And many more of noble fame and worth:
+	And towards London they do bend their course,
+	If by the way they be not fought withal.
+
+DERBY	Return unto thy lord; commend me to him:
+	Tell him the queen hath heartily consented
+	He shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter.
+	These letters will resolve him of my mind. Farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Salisbury. An open place.
+
+
+	[Enter the Sheriff, and BUCKINGHAM, with halberds,
+	led to execution]
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Will not King Richard let me speak with him?
+
+Sheriff	No, my good lord; therefore be patient.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Hastings, and Edward's children, Rivers, Grey,
+	Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
+	Vaughan, and all that have miscarried
+	By underhand corrupted foul injustice,
+	If that your moody discontented souls
+	Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
+	Even for revenge mock my destruction!
+	This is All-Souls' day, fellows, is it not?
+
+Sheriff	It is, my lord.
+
+BUCKINGHAM	Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's doomsday.
+	This is the day that, in King Edward's time,
+	I wish't might fall on me, when I was found
+	False to his children or his wife's allies
+	This is the day wherein I wish'd to fall
+	By the false faith of him I trusted most;
+	This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul
+	Is the determined respite of my wrongs:
+	That high All-Seer that I dallied with
+	Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head
+	And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest.
+	Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men
+	To turn their own points on their masters' bosoms:
+	Now Margaret's curse is fallen upon my head;
+	'When he,' quoth she, 'shall split thy heart with sorrow,
+	Remember Margaret was a prophetess.'
+	Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame;
+	Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The camp near Tamworth.
+
+
+	[Enter RICHMOND, OXFORD, BLUNT, HERBERT, and others,
+	with drum and colours]
+
+RICHMOND	Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends,
+	Bruised underneath the yoke of tyranny,
+	Thus far into the bowels of the land
+	Have we march'd on without impediment;
+	And here receive we from our father Stanley
+	Lines of fair comfort and encouragement.
+	The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar,
+	That spoil'd your summer fields and fruitful vines,
+	Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough
+	In your embowell'd bosoms, this foul swine
+	Lies now even in the centre of this isle,
+	Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn
+	From Tamworth thither is but one day's march.
+	In God's name, cheerly on, courageous friends,
+	To reap the harvest of perpetual peace
+	By this one bloody trial of sharp war.
+
+OXFORD	Every man's conscience is a thousand swords,
+	To fight against that bloody homicide.
+
+HERBERT	I doubt not but his friends will fly to us.
+
+BLUNT	He hath no friends but who are friends for fear.
+	Which in his greatest need will shrink from him.
+
+RICHMOND	All for our vantage. Then, in God's name, march:
+	True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings:
+	Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Bosworth Field.
+
+
+	[Enter KING RICHARD III in arms, with NORFOLK,
+	SURREY, and others]
+
+KING RICHARD III	Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth field.
+	My Lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?
+
+SURREY	My heart is ten times lighter than my looks.
+
+KING RICHARD III	My Lord of Norfolk,--
+
+NORFOLK	Here, most gracious liege.
+
+
+KING RICHARD III	Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha! must we not?
+
+NORFOLK	We must both give and take, my gracious lord.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Up with my tent there! here will I lie tonight;
+	But where to-morrow?  Well, all's one for that.
+	Who hath descried the number of the foe?
+
+NORFOLK	Six or seven thousand is their utmost power.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Why, our battalion trebles that account:
+	Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength,
+	Which they upon the adverse party want.
+	Up with my tent there! Valiant gentlemen,
+	Let us survey the vantage of the field
+	Call for some men of sound direction
+	Let's want no discipline, make no delay,
+	For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Enter, on the other side of the field, RICHMOND,
+	Sir William Brandon, OXFORD, and others. Some of
+	the Soldiers pitch RICHMOND's tent]
+
+RICHMOND	The weary sun hath made a golden set,
+	And by the bright track of his fiery car,
+	Gives signal, of a goodly day to-morrow.
+	Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard.
+	Give me some ink and paper in my tent
+	I'll draw the form and model of our battle,
+	Limit each leader to his several charge,
+	And part in just proportion our small strength.
+	My Lord of Oxford, you, Sir William Brandon,
+	And you, Sir Walter Herbert, stay with me.
+	The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment:
+	Good Captain Blunt, bear my good night to him
+	And by the second hour in the morning
+	Desire the earl to see me in my tent:
+	Yet one thing more, good Blunt, before thou go'st,
+	Where is Lord Stanley quarter'd, dost thou know?
+
+BLUNT	Unless I have mista'en his colours much,
+	Which well I am assured I have not done,
+	His regiment lies half a mile at least
+	South from the mighty power of the king.
+
+RICHMOND	If without peril it be possible,
+	Good Captain Blunt, bear my good-night to him,
+	And give him from me this most needful scroll.
+
+BLUNT	Upon my life, my lord, I'll under-take it;
+	And so, God give you quiet rest to-night!
+
+RICHMOND	Good night, good Captain Blunt. Come gentlemen,
+	Let us consult upon to-morrow's business
+	In to our tent; the air is raw and cold.
+
+	[They withdraw into the tent]
+
+	[Enter, to his tent, KING RICHARD III, NORFOLK,
+	RATCLIFF, CATESBY, and others]
+
+KING RICHARD III	What is't o'clock?
+
+CATESBY	                  It's supper-time, my lord;
+	It's nine o'clock.
+
+KING RICHARD III	                  I will not sup to-night.
+	Give me some ink and paper.
+	What, is my beaver easier than it was?
+	And all my armour laid into my tent?
+
+CATESBY	If is, my liege; and all things are in readiness.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge;
+	Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels.
+
+NORFOLK	I go, my lord.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk.
+
+NORFOLK	I warrant you, my lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING RICHARD III	Catesby!
+
+CATESBY	My lord?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Send out a pursuivant at arms
+	To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power
+	Before sunrising, lest his son George fall
+	Into the blind cave of eternal night.
+
+	[Exit CATESBY]
+
+	Fill me a bowl of wine. Give me a watch.
+	Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.
+	Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy.
+	Ratcliff!
+
+RATCLIFF	My lord?
+
+KING RICHARD III	Saw'st thou the melancholy Lord Northumberland?
+
+RATCLIFF	Thomas the Earl of Surrey, and himself,
+	Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop
+	Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers.
+
+KING RICHARD III	So, I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of wine:
+	I have not that alacrity of spirit,
+	Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have.
+	Set it down. Is ink and paper ready?
+
+RATCLIFF	It is, my lord.
+
+KING RICHARD III	                  Bid my guard watch; leave me.
+	Ratcliff, about the mid of night come to my tent
+	And help to arm me. Leave me, I say.
+
+	[Exeunt RATCLIFF and the other Attendants]
+
+	[Enter DERBY to RICHMOND in his tent, Lords and
+	others attending]
+
+DERBY	Fortune and victory sit on thy helm!
+
+RICHMOND	All comfort that the dark night can afford
+	Be to thy person, noble father-in-law!
+	Tell me, how fares our loving mother?
+
+DERBY	I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother
+	Who prays continually for Richmond's good:
+	So much for that. The silent hours steal on,
+	And flaky darkness breaks within the east.
+	In brief,--for so the season bids us be,--
+	Prepare thy battle early in the morning,
+	And put thy fortune to the arbitrement
+	Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war.
+	I, as I may--that which I would I cannot,--
+	With best advantage will deceive the time,
+	And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms:
+	But on thy side I may not be too forward
+	Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George,
+	Be executed in his father's sight.
+	Farewell: the leisure and the fearful time
+	Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love
+	And ample interchange of sweet discourse,
+	Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell upon:
+	God give us leisure for these rites of love!
+	Once more, adieu: be valiant, and speed well!
+
+RICHMOND	Good lords, conduct him to his regiment:
+	I'll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap,
+	Lest leaden slumber peise me down to-morrow,
+	When I should mount with wings of victory:
+	Once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen.
+
+	[Exeunt all but RICHMOND]
+
+	O Thou, whose captain I account myself,
+	Look on my forces with a gracious eye;
+	Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath,
+	That they may crush down with a heavy fall
+	The usurping helmets of our adversaries!
+	Make us thy ministers of chastisement,
+	That we may praise thee in the victory!
+	To thee I do commend my watchful soul,
+	Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes:
+	Sleeping and waking, O, defend me still!
+
+	[Sleeps]
+
+	[Enter the Ghost of Prince Edward, son to King Henry VI]
+
+Ghost
+of Prince Edward	[To KING RICHARD III]
+
+	Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow!
+	Think, how thou stab'dst me in my prime of youth
+	At Tewksbury: despair, therefore, and die!
+
+	[To RICHMOND]
+
+	Be cheerful, Richmond; for the wronged souls
+	Of butcher'd princes fight in thy behalf
+	King Henry's issue, Richmond, comforts thee.
+
+	[Enter the Ghost of King Henry VI]
+
+Ghost
+of King Henry VI	[To KING RICHARD III]
+
+	When I was mortal, my anointed body
+	By thee was punched full of deadly holes
+	Think on the Tower and me: despair, and die!
+	Harry the Sixth bids thee despair, and die!
+
+	[To RICHMOND]
+
+	Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror!
+	Harry, that prophesied thou shouldst be king,
+	Doth comfort thee in thy sleep: live, and flourish!
+
+	[Enter the Ghost of CLARENCE]
+
+Ghost of CLARENCE	[To KING RICHARD III]
+
+	Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow!
+	I, that was wash'd to death with fulsome wine,
+	Poor Clarence, by thy guile betrayed to death!
+	To-morrow in the battle think on me,
+	And fall thy edgeless sword: despair, and die!--
+
+	[To RICHMOND]
+
+	Thou offspring of the house of Lancaster
+	The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee
+	Good angels guard thy battle! live, and flourish!
+
+	[Enter the Ghosts of RIVERS, GRAY, and VAUGHAN]
+
+Ghost of RIVERS	[To KING RICHARD III]
+
+	Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow,
+	Rivers. that died at Pomfret! despair, and die!
+
+Ghost of GREY	[To KING RICHARD III]
+
+	Think upon Grey, and let thy soul despair!
+
+Ghost of VAUGHAN	[To KING RICHARD III]
+
+	Think upon Vaughan, and, with guilty fear,
+	Let fall thy lance: despair, and die!
+
+All	[To RICHMOND]
+
+	Awake, and think our wrongs in Richard's bosom
+	Will conquer him! awake, and win the day!
+
+	[Enter the Ghost of HASTINGS]
+
+Ghost of HASTINGS	[To KING RICHARD III]
+
+	Bloody and guilty, guiltily awake,
+	And in a bloody battle end thy days!
+	Think on Lord Hastings: despair, and die!
+
+	[To RICHMOND]
+
+	Quiet untroubled soul, awake, awake!
+	Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake!
+
+	[Enter the Ghosts of the two young Princes]
+
+Ghosts
+of young Princes	[To KING RICHARD III]
+
+	Dream on thy cousins smother'd in the Tower:
+	Let us be led within thy bosom, Richard,
+	And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death!
+	Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair and die!
+
+	[To RICHMOND]
+
+	Sleep, Richmond, sleep in peace, and wake in joy;
+	Good angels guard thee from the boar's annoy!
+	Live, and beget a happy race of kings!
+	Edward's unhappy sons do bid thee flourish.
+
+	[Enter the Ghost of LADY ANNE]
+
+Ghost of LADY ANNE	[To KING RICHARD III]
+
+	Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne thy wife,
+	That never slept a quiet hour with thee,
+	Now fills thy sleep with perturbations
+	To-morrow in the battle think on me,
+	And fall thy edgeless sword: despair, and die!
+
+	[To RICHMOND]
+
+	Thou quiet soul, sleep thou a quiet sleep
+	Dream of success and happy victory!
+	Thy adversary's wife doth pray for thee.
+
+	[Enter the Ghost of BUCKINGHAM]
+
+Ghost
+of BUCKINGHAM	[To KING RICHARD III]
+
+	The last was I that helped thee to the crown;
+	The last was I that felt thy tyranny:
+	O, in the battle think on Buckingham,
+	And die in terror of thy guiltiness!
+	Dream on, dream on, of bloody deeds and death:
+	Fainting, despair; despairing, yield thy breath!
+
+	[To RICHMOND]
+
+	I died for hope ere I could lend thee aid:
+	But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismay'd:
+	God and good angel fight on Richmond's side;
+	And Richard falls in height of all his pride.
+
+	[The Ghosts vanish]
+
+	[KING RICHARD III starts out of his dream]
+
+KING RICHARD III	Give me another horse: bind up my wounds.
+	Have mercy, Jesu!--Soft! I did but dream.
+	O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!
+	The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight.
+	Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.
+	What do I fear?  myself?  there's none else by:
+	Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I.
+	Is there a murderer here?  No. Yes, I am:
+	Then fly. What, from myself?   Great reason why:
+	Lest I revenge. What, myself upon myself?
+	Alack. I love myself. Wherefore?  for any good
+	That I myself have done unto myself?
+	O, no! alas, I rather hate myself
+	For hateful deeds committed by myself!
+	I am a villain: yet I lie. I am not.
+	Fool, of thyself speak well: fool, do not flatter.
+	My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
+	And every tongue brings in a several tale,
+	And every tale condemns me for a villain.
+	Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree
+	Murder, stem murder, in the direst degree;
+	All several sins, all used in each degree,
+	Throng to the bar, crying all, Guilty! guilty!
+	I shall despair. There is no creature loves me;
+	And if I die, no soul shall pity me:
+	Nay, wherefore should they, since that I myself
+	Find in myself no pity to myself?
+	Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd
+	Came to my tent; and every one did threat
+	To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.
+
+	[Enter RATCLIFF]
+
+RATCLIFF	My lord!
+
+KING RICHARD III	'Zounds! who is there?
+
+RATCLIFF	Ratcliff, my lord; 'tis I. The early village-cock
+	Hath twice done salutation to the morn;
+	Your friends are up, and buckle on their armour.
+
+KING RICHARD III	O Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fearful dream!
+	What thinkest thou, will our friends prove all true?
+
+RATCLIFF	No doubt, my lord.
+
+KING RICHARD III	                  O Ratcliff, I fear, I fear,--
+
+RATCLIFF	Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows.
+
+KING RICHARD III	By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
+	Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard
+	Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers
+	Armed in proof, and led by shallow Richmond.
+	It is not yet near day. Come, go with me;
+	Under our tents I'll play the eaves-dropper,
+	To see if any mean to shrink from me.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Enter the Lords to RICHMOND, sitting in his tent]
+
+LORDS	Good morrow, Richmond!
+
+RICHMOND	Cry mercy, lords and watchful gentlemen,
+	That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here.
+
+LORDS	How have you slept, my lord?
+
+RICHMOND	The sweetest sleep, and fairest-boding dreams
+	That ever enter'd in a drowsy head,
+	Have I since your departure had, my lords.
+	Methought their souls, whose bodies Richard murder'd,
+	Came to my tent, and cried on victory:
+	I promise you, my soul is very jocund
+	In the remembrance of so fair a dream.
+	How far into the morning is it, lords?
+
+LORDS	Upon the stroke of four.
+
+RICHMOND	Why, then 'tis time to arm and give direction.
+
+	[His oration to his soldiers]
+
+	More than I have said, loving countrymen,
+	The leisure and enforcement of the time
+	Forbids to dwell upon: yet remember this,
+	God and our good cause fight upon our side;
+	The prayers of holy saints and wronged souls,
+	Like high-rear'd bulwarks, stand before our faces;
+	Richard except, those whom we fight against
+	Had rather have us win than him they follow:
+	For what is he they follow?  truly, gentlemen,
+	A bloody tyrant and a homicide;
+	One raised in blood, and one in blood establish'd;
+	One that made means to come by what he hath,
+	And slaughter'd those that were the means to help him;
+	Abase foul stone, made precious by the foil
+	Of England's chair, where he is falsely set;
+	One that hath ever been God's enemy:
+	Then, if you fight against God's enemy,
+	God will in justice ward you as his soldiers;
+	If you do sweat to put a tyrant down,
+	You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain;
+	If you do fight against your country's foes,
+	Your country's fat shall pay your pains the hire;
+	If you do fight in safeguard of your wives,
+	Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors;
+	If you do free your children from the sword,
+	Your children's children quit it in your age.
+	Then, in the name of God and all these rights,
+	Advance your standards, draw your willing swords.
+	For me, the ransom of my bold attempt
+	Shall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face;
+	But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt
+	The least of you shall share his part thereof.
+	Sound drums and trumpets boldly and cheerfully;
+	God and Saint George! Richmond and victory!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Re-enter KING RICHARD, RATCLIFF, Attendants
+	and Forces]
+
+KING RICHARD III	What said Northumberland as touching Richmond?
+
+RATCLIFF	That he was never trained up in arms.
+
+KING RICHARD III	He said the truth: and what said Surrey then?
+
+RATCLIFF	He smiled and said 'The better for our purpose.'
+
+KING RICHARD III	He was in the right; and so indeed it is.
+
+	[Clock striketh]
+
+	Ten the clock there. Give me a calendar.
+	Who saw the sun to-day?
+
+RATCLIFF	Not I, my lord.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Then he disdains to shine; for by the book
+	He should have braved the east an hour ago
+	A black day will it be to somebody. Ratcliff!
+
+RATCLIFF	        My lord?
+
+KING RICHARD III	The sun will not be seen to-day;
+	The sky doth frown and lour upon our army.
+	I would these dewy tears were from the ground.
+	Not shine to-day! Why, what is that to me
+	More than to Richmond?  for the selfsame heaven
+	That frowns on me looks sadly upon him.
+
+	[Enter NORFOLK]
+
+NORFOLK	Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the field.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Come, bustle, bustle; caparison my horse.
+	Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power:
+	I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain,
+	And thus my battle shall be ordered:
+	My foreward shall be drawn out all in length,
+	Consisting equally of horse and foot;
+	Our archers shall be placed in the midst
+	John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey,
+	Shall have the leading of this foot and horse.
+	They thus directed, we will follow
+	In the main battle, whose puissance on either side
+	Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse.
+	This, and Saint George to boot! What think'st thou, Norfolk?
+
+NORFOLK	A good direction, warlike sovereign.
+	This found I on my tent this morning.
+
+	[He sheweth him a paper]
+
+KING RICHARD III	[Reads]
+
+	'Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold,
+	For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.'
+	A thing devised by the enemy.
+	Go, gentleman, every man unto his charge
+	Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls:
+	Conscience is but a word that cowards use,
+	Devised at first to keep the strong in awe:
+	Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law.
+	March on, join bravely, let us to't pell-mell
+	If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.
+
+	[His oration to his Army]
+
+	What shall I say more than I have inferr'd?
+	Remember whom you are to cope withal;
+	A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways,
+	A scum of Bretons, and base lackey peasants,
+	Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth
+	To desperate ventures and assured destruction.
+	You sleeping safe, they bring to you unrest;
+	You having lands, and blest with beauteous wives,
+	They would restrain the one, distain the other.
+	And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow,
+	Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost?
+	A milk-sop, one that never in his life
+	Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow?
+	Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again;
+	Lash hence these overweening rags of France,
+	These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives;
+	Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit,
+	For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves:
+	If we be conquer'd, let men conquer us,
+	And not these bastard Bretons; whom our fathers
+	Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd,
+	And in record, left them the heirs of shame.
+	Shall these enjoy our lands?  lie with our wives?
+	Ravish our daughters?
+
+	[Drum afar off]
+
+		Hark! I hear their drum.
+	Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yoemen!
+	Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!
+	Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood;
+	Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+	What says Lord Stanley? will he bring his power?
+
+Messenger	My lord, he doth deny to come.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Off with his son George's head!
+
+NORFOLK	My lord, the enemy is past the marsh
+	After the battle let George Stanley die.
+
+KING RICHARD III	A thousand hearts are great within my bosom:
+	Advance our standards, set upon our foes
+	Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George,
+	Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
+	Upon them! victory sits on our helms.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Alarum: excursions. Enter NORFOLK and forces
+	fighting; to him CATESBY]
+
+CATESBY	Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue!
+	The king enacts more wonders than a man,
+	Daring an opposite to every danger:
+	His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights,
+	Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death.
+	Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!
+
+	[Alarums. Enter KING RICHARD III]
+
+KING RICHARD III	A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!
+
+CATESBY	Withdraw, my lord; I'll help you to a horse.
+
+KING RICHARD III	Slave, I have set my life upon a cast,
+	And I will stand the hazard of the die:
+	I think there be six Richmonds in the field;
+	Five have I slain to-day instead of him.
+	A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING RICHARD III
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Enter KING RICHARD III and RICHMOND; they
+	fight. KING RICHARD III is slain. Retreat and
+	flourish. Re-enter RICHMOND, DERBY bearing the
+	crown, with divers other Lords]
+
+RICHMOND	God and your arms be praised, victorious friends,
+	The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.
+
+DERBY	Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee.
+	Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty
+	From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
+	Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal:
+	Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.
+
+RICHMOND	Great God of heaven, say Amen to all!
+	But, tell me, is young George Stanley living?
+
+DERBY	He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town;
+	Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us.
+
+RICHMOND	What men of name are slain on either side?
+
+DERBY	John Duke of Norfolk, Walter Lord Ferrers,
+	Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon.
+
+RICHMOND	Inter their bodies as becomes their births:
+	Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled
+	That in submission will return to us:
+	And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament,
+	We will unite the white rose and the red:
+	Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction,
+	That long have frown'd upon their enmity!
+	What traitor hears me, and says not amen?
+	England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself;
+	The brother blindly shed the brother's blood,
+	The father rashly slaughter'd his own son,
+	The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire:
+	All this divided York and Lancaster,
+	Divided in their dire division,
+	O, now, let Richmond and Elizabeth,
+	The true succeeders of each royal house,
+	By God's fair ordinance conjoin together!
+	And let their heirs, God, if thy will be so.
+	Enrich the time to come with smooth-faced peace,
+	With smiling plenty and fair prosperous days!
+	Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord,
+	That would reduce these bloody days again,
+	And make poor England weep in streams of blood!
+	Let them not live to taste this land's increase
+	That would with treason wound this fair land's peace!
+	Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again:
+	That she may long live here, God say amen!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+  	A LOVER'S COMPLAINT
+
+
+
+FROM off a hill whose concave womb reworded
+A plaintful story from a sistering vale,
+My spirits to attend this double voice accorded,
+And down I laid to list the sad-tuned tale;
+Ere long espied a fickle maid full pale,
+Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain,
+Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain.
+
+Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
+Which fortified her visage from the sun,
+Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw
+The carcass of beauty spent and done:
+Time had not scythed all that youth begun,
+Nor youth all quit; but, spite of heaven's fell rage,
+Some beauty peep'd through lattice of sear'd age.
+
+Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne,
+Which on it had conceited characters,
+Laundering the silken figures in the brine
+That season'd woe had pelleted in tears,
+And often reading what contents it bears;
+As often shrieking undistinguish'd woe,
+In clamours of all size, both high and low.
+
+Sometimes her levell'd eyes their carriage ride,
+As they did battery to the spheres intend;
+Sometime diverted their poor balls are tied
+To the orbed earth; sometimes they do extend
+Their view right on; anon their gazes lend
+To every place at once, and, nowhere fix'd,
+The mind and sight distractedly commix'd.
+
+Her hair, nor loose nor tied in formal plat,
+Proclaim'd in her a careless hand of pride
+For some, untuck'd, descended her sheaved hat,
+Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside;
+Some in her threaden fillet still did bide,
+And true to bondage would not break from thence,
+Though slackly braided in loose negligence.
+
+A thousand favours from a maund she drew
+Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet,
+Which one by one she in a river threw,
+Upon whose weeping margent she was set;
+Like usury, applying wet to wet,
+Or monarch's hands that let not bounty fall
+Where want cries some, but where excess begs all.
+
+Of folded schedules had she many a one,
+Which she perused, sigh'd, tore, and gave the flood;
+Crack'd many a ring of posied gold and bone
+Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud;
+Found yet moe letters sadly penn'd in blood,
+With sleided silk feat and affectedly
+Enswathed, and seal'd to curious secrecy.
+
+These often bathed she in her fluxive eyes,
+And often kiss'd, and often 'gan to tear:
+Cried 'O false blood, thou register of lies,
+What unapproved witness dost thou bear!
+Ink would have seem'd more black and damned here!'
+This said, in top of rage the lines she rents,
+Big discontent so breaking their contents.
+
+A reverend man that grazed his cattle nigh--
+Sometime a blusterer, that the ruffle knew
+Of court, of city, and had let go by
+The swiftest hours, observed as they flew--
+Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew,
+And, privileged by age, desires to know
+In brief the grounds and motives of her woe.
+
+So slides he down upon his grained bat,
+And comely-distant sits he by her side;
+When he again desires her, being sat,
+Her grievance with his hearing to divide:
+If that from him there may be aught applied
+Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage,
+'Tis promised in the charity of age.
+
+'Father,' she says, 'though in me you behold
+The injury of many a blasting hour,
+Let it not tell your judgment I am old;
+Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power:
+I might as yet have been a spreading flower,
+Fresh to myself, If I had self-applied
+Love to myself and to no love beside.
+
+'But, woe is me! too early I attended
+A youthful suit--it was to gain my grace--
+Of one by nature's outwards so commended,
+That maidens' eyes stuck over all his face:
+Love lack'd a dwelling, and made him her place;
+And when in his fair parts she did abide,
+She was new lodged and newly deified.
+
+'His browny locks did hang in crooked curls;
+And every light occasion of the wind
+Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls.
+What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find:
+Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind,
+For on his visage was in little drawn
+What largeness thinks in Paradise was sawn.
+
+'Small show of man was yet upon his chin;
+His phoenix down began but to appear
+Like unshorn velvet on that termless skin
+Whose bare out-bragg'd the web it seem'd to wear:
+Yet show'd his visage by that cost more dear;
+And nice affections wavering stood in doubt
+If best were as it was, or best without.
+
+'His qualities were beauteous as his form,
+For maiden-tongued he was, and thereof free;
+Yet, if men moved him, was he such a storm
+As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,
+When winds breathe sweet, untidy though they be.
+His rudeness so with his authorized youth
+Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.
+
+'Well could he ride, and often men would say
+'That horse his mettle from his rider takes:
+Proud of subjection, noble by the sway,
+What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop
+he makes!'
+And controversy hence a question takes,
+Whether the horse by him became his deed,
+Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.
+
+'But quickly on this side the verdict went:
+His real habitude gave life and grace
+To appertainings and to ornament,
+Accomplish'd in himself, not in his case:
+All aids, themselves made fairer by their place,
+Came for additions; yet their purposed trim
+Pieced not his grace, but were all graced by him.
+
+'So on the tip of his subduing tongue
+All kinds of arguments and question deep,
+All replication prompt, and reason strong,
+For his advantage still did wake and sleep:
+To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,
+He had the dialect and different skill,
+Catching all passions in his craft of will:
+
+'That he did in the general bosom reign
+Of young, of old; and sexes both enchanted,
+To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain
+In personal duty, following where he haunted:
+Consents bewitch'd, ere he desire, have granted;
+And dialogued for him what he would say,
+Ask'd their own wills, and made their wills obey.
+
+'Many there were that did his picture get,
+To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind;
+Like fools that in th' imagination set
+The goodly objects which abroad they find
+Of lands and mansions, theirs in thought assign'd;
+And labouring in moe pleasures to bestow them
+Than the true gouty landlord which doth owe them:
+
+'So many have, that never touch'd his hand,
+Sweetly supposed them mistress of his heart.
+My woeful self, that did in freedom stand,
+And was my own fee-simple, not in part,
+What with his art in youth, and youth in art,
+Threw my affections in his charmed power,
+Reserved the stalk and gave him all my flower.
+
+'Yet did I not, as some my equals did,
+Demand of him, nor being desired yielded;
+Finding myself in honour so forbid,
+With safest distance I mine honour shielded:
+Experience for me many bulwarks builded
+Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain'd the foil
+Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil.
+
+'But, ah, who ever shunn'd by precedent
+The destined ill she must herself assay?
+Or forced examples, 'gainst her own content,
+To put the by-past perils in her way?
+Counsel may stop awhile what will not stay;
+For when we rage, advice is often seen
+By blunting us to make our wits more keen.
+
+'Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood,
+That we must curb it upon others' proof;
+To be forbod the sweets that seem so good,
+For fear of harms that preach in our behoof.
+O appetite, from judgment stand aloof!
+The one a palate hath that needs will taste,
+Though Reason weep, and cry, 'It is thy last.'
+
+'For further I could say 'This man's untrue,'
+And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling;
+Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew,
+Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling;
+Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling;
+Thought characters and words merely but art,
+And bastards of his foul adulterate heart.
+
+'And long upon these terms I held my city,
+Till thus he gan besiege me: 'Gentle maid,
+Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity,
+And be not of my holy vows afraid:
+That's to ye sworn to none was ever said;
+For feasts of love I have been call'd unto,
+Till now did ne'er invite, nor never woo.
+
+''All my offences that abroad you see
+Are errors of the blood, none of the mind;
+Love made them not: with acture they may be,
+Where neither party is nor true nor kind:
+They sought their shame that so their shame did find;
+And so much less of shame in me remains,
+By how much of me their reproach contains.
+
+''Among the many that mine eyes have seen,
+Not one whose flame my heart so much as warm'd,
+Or my affection put to the smallest teen,
+Or any of my leisures ever charm'd:
+Harm have I done to them, but ne'er was harm'd;
+Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free,
+And reign'd, commanding in his monarchy.
+
+''Look here, what tributes wounded fancies sent me,
+Of paled pearls and rubies red as blood;
+Figuring that they their passions likewise lent me
+Of grief and blushes, aptly understood
+In bloodless white and the encrimson'd mood;
+Effects of terror and dear modesty,
+Encamp'd in hearts, but fighting outwardly.
+
+''And, lo, behold these talents of their hair,
+With twisted metal amorously impleach'd,
+I have received from many a several fair,
+Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech'd,
+With the annexions of fair gems enrich'd,
+And deep-brain'd sonnets that did amplify
+Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality.
+
+''The diamond,--why, 'twas beautiful and hard,
+Whereto his invised properties did tend;
+The deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard
+Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend;
+The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend
+With objects manifold: each several stone,
+With wit well blazon'd, smiled or made some moan.
+
+''Lo, all these trophies of affections hot,
+Of pensived and subdued desires the tender,
+Nature hath charged me that I hoard them not,
+But yield them up where I myself must render,
+That is, to you, my origin and ender;
+For these, of force, must your oblations be,
+Since I their altar, you enpatron me.
+
+''O, then, advance of yours that phraseless hand,
+Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise;
+Take all these similes to your own command,
+Hallow'd with sighs that burning lungs did raise;
+What me your minister, for you obeys,
+Works under you; and to your audit comes
+Their distract parcels in combined sums.
+
+''Lo, this device was sent me from a nun,
+Or sister sanctified, of holiest note;
+Which late her noble suit in court did shun,
+Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote;
+For she was sought by spirits of richest coat,
+But kept cold distance, and did thence remove,
+To spend her living in eternal love.
+
+''But, O my sweet, what labour is't to leave
+The thing we have not, mastering what not strives,
+Playing the place which did no form receive,
+Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves?
+She that her fame so to herself contrives,
+The scars of battle 'scapeth by the flight,
+And makes her absence valiant, not her might.
+
+''O, pardon me, in that my boast is true:
+The accident which brought me to her eye
+Upon the moment did her force subdue,
+And now she would the caged cloister fly:
+Religious love put out Religion's eye:
+Not to be tempted, would she be immured,
+And now, to tempt, all liberty procured.
+
+''How mighty then you are, O, hear me tell!
+The broken bosoms that to me belong
+Have emptied all their fountains in my well,
+And mine I pour your ocean all among:
+I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong,
+Must for your victory us all congest,
+As compound love to physic your cold breast.
+
+''My parts had power to charm a sacred nun,
+Who, disciplined, ay, dieted in grace,
+Believed her eyes when they to assail begun,
+All vows and consecrations giving place:
+O most potential love! vow, bond, nor space,
+In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine,
+For thou art all, and all things else are thine.
+
+''When thou impressest, what are precepts worth
+Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame,
+How coldly those impediments stand forth
+Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame!
+Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst sense,
+'gainst shame,
+And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears,
+The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears.
+
+''Now all these hearts that do on mine depend,
+Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine;
+And supplicant their sighs to you extend,
+To leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine,
+Lending soft audience to my sweet design,
+And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath
+That shall prefer and undertake my troth.'
+
+'This said, his watery eyes he did dismount,
+Whose sights till then were levell'd on my face;
+Each cheek a river running from a fount
+With brinish current downward flow'd apace:
+O, how the channel to the stream gave grace!
+Who glazed with crystal gate the glowing roses
+That flame through water which their hue encloses.
+
+'O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
+In the small orb of one particular tear!
+But with the inundation of the eyes
+What rocky heart to water will not wear?
+What breast so cold that is not warmed here?
+O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
+Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath.
+
+'For, lo, his passion, but an art of craft,
+Even there resolved my reason into tears;
+There my white stole of chastity I daff'd,
+Shook off my sober guards and civil fears;
+Appear to him, as he to me appears,
+All melting; though our drops this difference bore,
+His poison'd me, and mine did him restore.
+
+'In him a plenitude of subtle matter,
+Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives,
+Of burning blushes, or of weeping water,
+Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves,
+In either's aptness, as it best deceives,
+To blush at speeches rank to weep at woes,
+Or to turn white and swoon at tragic shows.
+
+'That not a heart which in his level came
+Could 'scape the hail of his all-hurting aim,
+Showing fair nature is both kind and tame;
+And, veil'd in them, did win whom he would maim:
+Against the thing he sought he would exclaim;
+When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury,
+He preach'd pure maid, and praised cold chastity.
+
+'Thus merely with the garment of a Grace
+The naked and concealed fiend he cover'd;
+That th' unexperient gave the tempter place,
+Which like a cherubin above them hover'd.
+Who, young and simple, would not be so lover'd?
+Ay me! I fell; and yet do question make
+What I should do again for such a sake.
+
+'O, that infected moisture of his eye,
+O, that false fire which in his cheek so glow'd,
+O, that forced thunder from his heart did fly,
+O, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestow'd,
+O, all that borrow'd motion seeming owed,
+Would yet again betray the fore-betray'd,
+And new pervert a reconciled maid!'
+	THE RAPE OF LUCRECE
+
+TO THE
+RIGHT HONORABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,
+Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Tichfield.
+
+
+The love I dedicate to your lordship is without end; whereof
+this pamphlet, without beginning, is but a superfluous moiety.
+The warrant I have of your honourable disposition, not the worth
+of my untutored lines, makes it assured of acceptance. What I
+have done is yours; what I have to do is yours; being part in
+all I have, devoted yours. Were my worth greater, my duty would
+show greater; meantime, as it is, it is bound to your lordship,
+to whom I wish long life, still lengthened with all happiness.
+
+Your lordship's in all duty,
+WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.
+
+
+
+	THE RAPE OF LUCRECE
+
+
+	THE ARGUMENT
+
+
+Lucius Tarquinius, for his excessive pride surnamed Superbus,
+after he had caused his own father-in-law Servius Tullius to be
+cruelly murdered, and, contrary to the Roman laws and customs,
+not requiring or staying for the people's suffrages, had
+possessed himself of the kingdom, went, accompanied with his sons
+and other noblemen of Rome, to besiege Ardea. During which siege
+the principal men of the army meeting one evening at the tent of
+Sextus Tarquinius, the king's son, in their discourses after
+supper every one commended the virtues of his own wife: among
+whom Collatinus extolled the incomparable chastity of his wife
+Lucretia. In that pleasant humour they posted to Rome; and
+intending, by their secret and sudden arrival, to make trial of
+that which every one had before avouched, only Collatinus finds
+his wife, though it were late in the night, spinning amongst her
+maids: the other ladies were all found dancing and revelling, or
+in several disports. Whereupon the noblemen yielded Collatinus
+the victory, and his wife the fame. At that time Sextus
+Tarquinius being inflamed with Lucrece' beauty, yet smothering
+his passions for the present, departed with the rest back to the
+camp; from whence he shortly after privily withdrew himself, and
+was, according to his estate, royally entertained and lodged by
+Lucrece at Collatium. The same night he treacherously stealeth
+into her chamber, violently ravished her, and early in the
+morning speedeth away. Lucrece, in this lamentable plight,
+hastily dispatcheth messengers, one to Rome for her father,
+another to the camp for Collatine. They came, the one
+accompanied with Junius Brutus, the other with Publius Valerius;
+and finding Lucrece attired in mourning habit, demanded the cause
+of her sorrow. She, first taking an oath of them for her
+revenge, revealed the actor, and whole manner of his dealing, and
+withal suddenly stabbed herself. Which done, with one consent
+they all vowed to root out the whole hated family of the
+Tarquins; and bearing the dead body to Rome, Brutus acquainted
+the people with the doer and manner of the vile deed, with a
+bitter invective against the tyranny of the king: wherewith the
+people were so moved, that with one consent and a general
+acclamation the Tarquins were all exiled, and the state
+government changed from kings to consuls.
+
+
+
+	THE RAPE OF LUCRECE
+
+
+
+FROM the besieged Ardea all in post,
+Borne by the trustless wings of false desire,
+Lust-breathed Tarquin leaves the Roman host,
+And to Collatium bears the lightless fire
+Which, in pale embers hid, lurks to aspire
+And girdle with embracing flames the waist
+Of Collatine's fair love, Lucrece the chaste.
+
+Haply that name of 'chaste' unhappily set
+This bateless edge on his keen appetite;
+When Collatine unwisely did not let
+To praise the clear unmatched red and white
+Which triumph'd in that sky of his delight,
+Where mortal stars, as bright as heaven's beauties,
+With pure aspects did him peculiar duties.
+
+For he the night before, in Tarquin's tent,
+Unlock'd the treasure of his happy state;
+What priceless wealth the heavens had him lent
+In the possession of his beauteous mate;
+Reckoning his fortune at such high-proud rate,
+That kings might be espoused to more fame,
+But king nor peer to such a peerless dame.
+
+O happiness enjoy'd but of a few!
+And, if possess'd, as soon decay'd and done
+As is the morning's silver-melting dew
+Against the golden splendor of the sun!
+An expired date, cancell'd ere well begun:
+Honour and beauty, in the owner's arms,
+Are weakly fortress'd from a world of harms.
+
+Beauty itself doth of itself persuade
+The eyes of men without an orator;
+What needeth then apologies be made,
+To set forth that which is so singular?
+Or why is Collatine the publisher
+Of that rich jewel he should keep unknown
+From thievish ears, because it is his own?
+
+Perchance his boast of Lucrece' sovereignty
+Suggested this proud issue of a king;
+For by our ears our hearts oft tainted be:
+Perchance that envy of so rich a thing,
+Braving compare, disdainfully did sting
+His high-pitch'd thoughts, that meaner men should vaunt
+That golden hap which their superiors want.
+
+But some untimely thought did instigate
+His all-too-timeless speed, if none of those:
+His honour, his affairs, his friends, his state,
+Neglected all, with swift intent he goes
+To quench the coal which in his liver glows.
+O rash false heat, wrapp'd in repentant cold,
+Thy hasty spring still blasts, and ne'er grows old!
+
+When at Collatium this false lord arrived,
+Well was he welcomed by the Roman dame,
+Within whose face beauty and virtue strived
+Which of them both should underprop her fame:
+When virtue bragg'd, beauty would blush for shame;
+When beauty boasted blushes, in despite
+Virtue would stain that o'er with silver white.
+
+But beauty, in that white intituled,
+From Venus' doves doth challenge that fair field:
+Then virtue claims from beauty beauty's red,
+Which virtue gave the golden age to gild
+Their silver cheeks, and call'd it then their shield;
+Teaching them thus to use it in the fight,
+When shame assail'd, the red should fence the white.
+
+This heraldry in Lucrece' face was seen,
+Argued by beauty's red and virtue's white
+Of either's colour was the other queen,
+Proving from world's minority their right:
+Yet their ambition makes them still to fight;
+The sovereignty of either being so great,
+That oft they interchange each other's seat.
+
+Their silent war of lilies and of roses,
+Which Tarquin view'd in her fair face's field,
+In their pure ranks his traitor eye encloses;
+Where, lest between them both it should be kill'd,
+The coward captive vanquished doth yield
+To those two armies that would let him go,
+Rather than triumph in so false a foe.
+
+Now thinks he that her husband's shallow tongue,--
+The niggard prodigal that praised her so,--
+In that high task hath done her beauty wrong,
+Which far exceeds his barren skill to show:
+Therefore that praise which Collatine doth owe
+Enchanted Tarquin answers with surmise,
+In silent wonder of still-gazing eyes.
+
+This earthly saint, adored by this devil,
+Little suspecteth the false worshipper;
+For unstain'd thoughts do seldom dream on evil;
+Birds never limed no secret bushes fear:
+So guiltless she securely gives good cheer
+And reverend welcome to her princely guest,
+Whose inward ill no outward harm express'd:
+
+For that he colour'd with his high estate,
+Hiding base sin in plaits of majesty;
+That nothing in him seem'd inordinate,
+Save something too much wonder of his eye,
+Which, having all, all could not satisfy;
+But, poorly rich, so wanteth in his store,
+That, cloy'd with much, he pineth still for more.
+
+But she, that never coped with stranger eyes,
+Could pick no meaning from their parling looks,
+Nor read the subtle-shining secrecies
+Writ in the glassy margents of such books:
+She touch'd no unknown baits, nor fear'd no hooks;
+Nor could she moralize his wanton sight,
+More than his eyes were open'd to the light.
+
+He stories to her ears her husband's fame,
+Won in the fields of fruitful Italy;
+And decks with praises Collatine's high name,
+Made glorious by his manly chivalry
+With bruised arms and wreaths of victory:
+Her joy with heaved-up hand she doth express,
+And, wordless, so greets heaven for his success.
+
+Far from the purpose of his coming hither,
+He makes excuses for his being there:
+No cloudy show of stormy blustering weather
+Doth yet in his fair welkin once appear;
+Till sable Night, mother of Dread and Fear,
+Upon the world dim darkness doth display,
+And in her vaulty prison stows the Day.
+
+For then is Tarquin brought unto his bed,
+Intending weariness with heavy spright;
+For, after supper, long he questioned
+With modest Lucrece, and wore out the night:
+Now leaden slumber with life's strength doth fight;
+And every one to rest themselves betake,
+Save thieves, and cares, and troubled minds, that wake.
+
+As one of which doth Tarquin lie revolving
+The sundry dangers of his will's obtaining;
+Yet ever to obtain his will resolving,
+Though weak-built hopes persuade him to abstaining:
+Despair to gain doth traffic oft for gaining;
+And when great treasure is the meed proposed,
+Though death be adjunct, there's no death supposed.
+
+Those that much covet are with gain so fond,
+For what they have not, that which they possess
+They scatter and unloose it from their bond,
+And so, by hoping more, they have but less;
+Or, gaining more, the profit of excess
+Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain,
+That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain.
+
+The aim of all is but to nurse the life
+With honour, wealth, and ease, in waning age;
+And in this aim there is such thwarting strife,
+That one for all, or all for one we gage;
+As life for honour in fell battle's rage;
+Honour for wealth; and oft that wealth doth cost
+The death of all, and all together lost.
+
+So that in venturing ill we leave to be
+The things we are for that which we expect;
+And this ambitious foul infirmity,
+In having much, torments us with defect
+Of that we have: so then we do neglect
+The thing we have; and, all for want of wit,
+Make something nothing by augmenting it.
+
+Such hazard now must doting Tarquin make,
+Pawning his honour to obtain his lust;
+And for himself himself be must forsake:
+Then where is truth, if there be no self-trust?
+When shall he think to find a stranger just,
+When he himself himself confounds, betrays
+To slanderous tongues and wretched hateful days?
+
+Now stole upon the time the dead of night,
+When heavy sleep had closed up mortal eyes:
+No comfortable star did lend his light,
+No noise but owls' and wolves' death-boding cries;
+Now serves the season that they may surprise
+The silly lambs: pure thoughts are dead and still,
+While lust and murder wake to stain and kill.
+
+And now this lustful lord leap'd from his bed,
+Throwing his mantle rudely o'er his arm;
+Is madly toss'd between desire and dread;
+Th' one sweetly flatters, th' other feareth harm;
+But honest fear, bewitch'd with lust's foul charm,
+Doth too too oft betake him to retire,
+Beaten away by brain-sick rude desire.
+
+His falchion on a flint he softly smiteth,
+That from the cold stone sparks of fire do fly;
+Whereat a waxen torch forthwith he lighteth,
+Which must be lode-star to his lustful eye;
+And to the flame thus speaks advisedly,
+'As from this cold flint I enforced this fire,
+So Lucrece must I force to my desire.'
+
+Here pale with fear he doth premeditate
+The dangers of his loathsome enterprise,
+And in his inward mind he doth debate
+What following sorrow may on this arise:
+Then looking scornfully, he doth despise
+His naked armour of still-slaughter'd lust,
+And justly thus controls his thoughts unjust:
+
+'Fair torch, burn out thy light, and lend it not
+To darken her whose light excelleth thine:
+And die, unhallow'd thoughts, before you blot
+With your uncleanness that which is divine;
+Offer pure incense to so pure a shrine:
+Let fair humanity abhor the deed
+That spots and stains love's modest snow-white weed.
+
+'O shame to knighthood and to shining arms!
+O foul dishonour to my household's grave!
+O impious act, including all foul harms!
+A martial man to be soft fancy's slave!
+True valour still a true respect should have;
+Then my digression is so vile, so base,
+That it will live engraven in my face.
+
+'Yea, though I die, the scandal will survive,
+And be an eye-sore in my golden coat;
+Some loathsome dash the herald will contrive,
+To cipher me how fondly I did dote;
+That my posterity, shamed with the note
+Shall curse my bones, and hold it for no sin
+To wish that I their father had not bin.
+
+'What win I, if I gain the thing I seek?
+A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy.
+Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week?
+Or sells eternity to get a toy?
+For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy?
+Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown,
+Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down?
+
+'If Collatinus dream of my intent,
+Will he not wake, and in a desperate rage
+Post hither, this vile purpose to prevent?
+This siege that hath engirt his marriage,
+This blur to youth, this sorrow to the sage,
+This dying virtue, this surviving shame,
+Whose crime will bear an ever-during blame?
+
+'O, what excuse can my invention make,
+When thou shalt charge me with so black a deed?
+Will not my tongue be mute, my frail joints shake,
+Mine eyes forego their light, my false heart bleed?
+The guilt being great, the fear doth still exceed;
+And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly,
+But coward-like with trembling terror die.
+
+
+'Had Collatinus kill'd my son or sire,
+Or lain in ambush to betray my life,
+Or were he not my dear friend, this desire
+Might have excuse to work upon his wife,
+As in revenge or quittal of such strife:
+But as he is my kinsman, my dear friend,
+The shame and fault finds no excuse nor end.
+
+'Shameful it is; ay, if the fact be known:
+Hateful it is; there is no hate in loving:
+I'll beg her love; but she is own:
+The worst is but denial and reproving:
+My will is strong, past reason's weak removing.
+Who fears a sentence or an old man's saw
+Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe.'
+
+Thus, graceless, holds he disputation
+'Tween frozen conscience and hot-burning will,
+And with good thoughts make dispensation,
+Urging the worser sense for vantage still;
+Which in a moment doth confound and kill
+All pure effects, and doth so far proceed,
+That what is vile shows like a virtuous deed.
+
+Quoth he, 'She took me kindly by the hand,
+And gazed for tidings in my eager eyes,
+Fearing some hard news from the warlike band,
+Where her beloved Collatinus lies.
+O, how her fear did make her colour rise!
+First red as roses that on lawn we lay,
+Then white as lawn, the roses took away.
+
+'And how her hand, in my hand being lock'd
+Forced it to tremble with her loyal fear!
+Which struck her sad, and then it faster rock'd,
+Until her husband's welfare she did hear;
+Whereat she smiled with so sweet a cheer,
+That had Narcissus seen her as she stood,
+Self-love had never drown'd him in the flood.
+
+'Why hunt I then for colour or excuses?
+All orators are dumb when beauty pleadeth;
+Poor wretches have remorse in poor abuses;
+Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth:
+Affection is my captain, and he leadeth;
+And when his gaudy banner is display'd,
+The coward fights and will not be dismay'd.
+
+'Then, childish fear, avaunt! debating, die!
+Respect and reason, wait on wrinkled age!
+My heart shall never countermand mine eye:
+Sad pause and deep regard beseem the sage;
+My part is youth, and beats these from the stage:
+Desire my pilot is, beauty my prize;
+Then who fears sinking where such treasure lies?'
+
+As corn o'ergrown by weeds, so heedful fear
+Is almost choked by unresisted lust.
+Away he steals with open listening ear,
+Full of foul hope and full of fond mistrust;
+Both which, as servitors to the unjust,
+So cross him with their opposite persuasion,
+That now he vows a league, and now invasion.
+
+Within his thought her heavenly image sits,
+And in the self-same seat sits Collatine:
+That eye which looks on her confounds his wits;
+That eye which him beholds, as more divine,
+Unto a view so false will not incline;
+But with a pure appeal seeks to the heart,
+Which once corrupted takes the worser part;
+
+And therein heartens up his servile powers,
+Who, flatter'd by their leader's jocund show,
+Stuff up his lust, as minutes fill up hours;
+And as their captain, so their pride doth grow,
+Paying more slavish tribute than they owe.
+By reprobate desire thus madly led,
+The Roman lord marcheth to Lucrece' bed.
+
+The locks between her chamber and his will,
+Each one by him enforced, retires his ward;
+But, as they open, they all rate his ill,
+Which drives the creeping thief to some regard:
+The threshold grates the door to have him heard;
+Night-wandering weasels shriek to see him there;
+They fright him, yet he still pursues his fear.
+
+As each unwilling portal yields him way,
+Through little vents and crannies of the place
+The wind wars with his torch to make him stay,
+And blows the smoke of it into his face,
+Extinguishing his conduct in this case;
+But his hot heart, which fond desire doth scorch,
+Puffs forth another wind that fires the torch:
+
+And being lighted, by the light he spies
+Lucretia's glove, wherein her needle sticks:
+He takes it from the rushes where it lies,
+And griping it, the needle his finger pricks;
+As who should say 'This glove to wanton tricks
+Is not inured; return again in haste;
+Thou see'st our mistress' ornaments are chaste.'
+
+But all these poor forbiddings could not stay him;
+He in the worst sense construes their denial:
+The doors, the wind, the glove, that did delay him,
+He takes for accidental things of trial;
+Or as those bars which stop the hourly dial,
+Who with a lingering slay his course doth let,
+Till every minute pays the hour his debt.
+
+'So, so,' quoth he, 'these lets attend the time,
+Like little frosts that sometime threat the spring,
+To add a more rejoicing to the prime,
+And give the sneaped birds more cause to sing.
+Pain pays the income of each precious thing;
+Huge rocks, high winds, strong pirates, shelves and sands,
+The merchant fears, ere rich at home he lands.'
+
+Now is he come unto the chamber-door,
+That shuts him from the heaven of his thought,
+Which with a yielding latch, and with no more,
+Hath barr'd him from the blessed thing be sought.
+So from himself impiety hath wrought,
+That for his prey to pray he doth begin,
+As if the heavens should countenance his sin.
+
+But in the midst of his unfruitful prayer,
+Having solicited th' eternal power
+That his foul thoughts might compass his fair fair,
+And they would stand auspicious to the hour,
+Even there he starts: quoth he, 'I must deflower:
+The powers to whom I pray abhor this fact,
+How can they then assist me in the act?
+
+'Then Love and Fortune be my gods, my guide!
+My will is back'd with resolution:
+Thoughts are but dreams till their effects be tried;
+The blackest sin is clear'd with absolution;
+Against love's fire fear's frost hath dissolution.
+The eye of heaven is out, and misty night
+Covers the shame that follows sweet delight.'
+
+This said, his guilty hand pluck'd up the latch,
+And with his knee the door he opens wide.
+The dove sleeps fast that this night-owl will catch:
+Thus treason works ere traitors be espied.
+Who sees the lurking serpent steps aside;
+But she, sound sleeping, fearing no such thing,
+Lies at the mercy of his mortal sting.
+
+Into the chamber wickedly he stalks,
+And gazeth on her yet unstained bed.
+The curtains being close, about he walks,
+Rolling his greedy eyeballs in his head:
+By their high treason is his heart misled;
+Which gives the watch-word to his hand full soon
+To draw the cloud that hides the silver moon.
+
+Look, as the fair and fiery-pointed sun,
+Rushing from forth a cloud, bereaves our sight;
+Even so, the curtain drawn, his eyes begun
+To wink, being blinded with a greater light:
+Whether it is that she reflects so bright,
+That dazzleth them, or else some shame supposed;
+But blind they are, and keep themselves enclosed.
+
+O, had they in that darksome prison died!
+Then had they seen the period of their ill;
+Then Collatine again, by Lucrece' side,
+In his clear bed might have reposed still:
+But they must ope, this blessed league to kill;
+And holy-thoughted Lucrece to their sight
+Must sell her joy, her life, her world's delight.
+
+Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under,
+Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss;
+Who, therefore angry, seems to part in sunder,
+Swelling on either side to want his bliss;
+Between whose hills her head entombed is:
+Where, like a virtuous monument, she lies,
+To be admired of lewd unhallow'd eyes.
+
+Without the bed her other fair hand was,
+On the green coverlet; whose perfect white
+Show'd like an April daisy on the grass,
+With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night.
+Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheathed their light,
+And canopied in darkness sweetly lay,
+Till they might open to adorn the day.
+
+Her hair, like golden threads, play'd with her breath;
+O modest wantons! wanton modesty!
+Showing life's triumph in the map of death,
+And death's dim look in life's mortality:
+Each in her sleep themselves so beautify,
+As if between them twain there were no strife,
+But that life lived in death, and death in life.
+
+Her breasts, like ivory globes circled with blue,
+A pair of maiden worlds unconquered,
+Save of their lord no bearing yoke they knew,
+And him by oath they truly honoured.
+These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred;
+Who, like a foul ursurper, went about
+From this fair throne to heave the owner out.
+
+What could he see but mightily he noted?
+What did he note but strongly he desired?
+What he beheld, on that he firmly doted,
+And in his will his wilful eye he tired.
+With more than admiration he admired
+Her azure veins, her alabaster skin,
+Her coral lips, her snow-white dimpled chin.
+
+As the grim lion fawneth o'er his prey,
+Sharp hunger by the conquest satisfied,
+So o'er this sleeping soul doth Tarquin stay,
+His rage of lust by gazing qualified;
+Slack'd, not suppress'd; for standing by her side,
+His eye, which late this mutiny restrains,
+Unto a greater uproar tempts his veins:
+
+And they, like straggling slaves for pillage fighting,
+Obdurate vassals fell exploits effecting,
+In bloody death and ravishment delighting,
+Nor children's tears nor mothers' groans respecting,
+Swell in their pride, the onset still expecting:
+Anon his beating heart, alarum striking,
+Gives the hot charge and bids them do their liking.
+
+His drumming heart cheers up his burning eye,
+His eye commends the leading to his hand;
+His hand, as proud of such a dignity,
+Smoking with pride, march'd on to make his stand
+On her bare breast, the heart of all her land;
+Whose ranks of blue veins, as his hand did scale,
+Left there round turrets destitute and pale.
+
+They, mustering to the quiet cabinet
+Where their dear governess and lady lies,
+Do tell her she is dreadfully beset,
+And fright her with confusion of their cries:
+She, much amazed, breaks ope her lock'd-up eyes,
+Who, peeping forth this tumult to behold,
+Are by his flaming torch dimm'd and controll'd.
+
+Imagine her as one in dead of night
+From forth dull sleep by dreadful fancy waking,
+That thinks she hath beheld some ghastly sprite,
+Whose grim aspect sets every joint a-shaking;
+What terror or 'tis! but she, in worser taking,
+From sleep disturbed, heedfully doth view
+The sight which makes supposed terror true.
+
+Wrapp'd and confounded in a thousand fears,
+Like to a new-kill'd bird she trembling lies;
+She dares not look; yet, winking, there appears
+Quick-shifting antics, ugly in her eyes:
+Such shadows are the weak brain's forgeries;
+Who, angry that the eyes fly from their lights,
+In darkness daunts them with more dreadful sights.
+
+His hand, that yet remains upon her breast,--
+Rude ram, to batter such an ivory wall!--
+May feel her heart-poor citizen!--distress'd,
+Wounding itself to death, rise up and fall,
+Beating her bulk, that his hand shakes withal.
+This moves in him more rage and lesser pity,
+To make the breach and enter this sweet city.
+
+First, like a trumpet, doth his tongue begin
+To sound a parley to his heartless foe;
+Who o'er the white sheet peers her whiter chin,
+The reason of this rash alarm to know,
+Which he by dumb demeanor seeks to show;
+But she with vehement prayers urgeth still
+Under what colour he commits this ill.
+
+Thus he replies: 'The colour in thy face,
+That even for anger makes the lily pale,
+And the red rose blush at her own disgrace,
+Shall plead for me and tell my loving tale:
+Under that colour am I come to scale
+Thy never-conquer'd fort: the fault is thine,
+For those thine eyes betray thee unto mine.
+
+'Thus I forestall thee, if thou mean to chide:
+Thy beauty hath ensnared thee to this night,
+Where thou with patience must my will abide;
+My will that marks thee for my earth's delight,
+Which I to conquer sought with all my might;
+But as reproof and reason beat it dead,
+By thy bright beauty was it newly bred.
+
+'I see what crosses my attempt will bring;
+I know what thorns the growing rose defends;
+I think the honey guarded with a sting;
+All this beforehand counsel comprehends:
+But will is deaf and hears no heedful friends;
+Only he hath an eye to gaze on beauty,
+And dotes on what he looks, 'gainst law or duty.
+
+'I have debated, even in my soul,
+What wrong, what shame, what sorrow I shall breed;
+But nothing can affection's course control,
+Or stop the headlong fury of his speed.
+I know repentant tears ensue the deed,
+Reproach, disdain, and deadly enmity;
+Yet strive I to embrace mine infamy.'
+
+This said, he shakes aloft his Roman blade,
+Which, like a falcon towering in the skies,
+Coucheth the fowl below with his wings' shade,
+Whose crooked beak threats if he mount he dies:
+So under his insulting falchion lies
+Harmless Lucretia, marking what he tells
+With trembling fear, as fowl hear falcon's bells.
+
+'Lucrece,' quoth he,'this night I must enjoy thee:
+If thou deny, then force must work my way,
+For in thy bed I purpose to destroy thee:
+That done, some worthless slave of thine I'll slay,
+To kill thine honour with thy life's decay;
+And in thy dead arms do I mean to place him,
+Swearing I slew him, seeing thee embrace him.
+
+'So thy surviving husband shall remain
+The scornful mark of every open eye;
+Thy kinsmen hang their heads at this disdain,
+Thy issue blurr'd with nameless bastardy:
+And thou, the author of their obloquy,
+Shalt have thy trespass cited up in rhymes,
+And sung by children in succeeding times.
+
+'But if thou yield, I rest thy secret friend:
+The fault unknown is as a thought unacted;
+A little harm done to a great good end
+For lawful policy remains enacted.
+The poisonous simple sometimes is compacted
+In a pure compound; being so applied,
+His venom in effect is purified.
+
+'Then, for thy husband and thy children's sake,
+Tender my suit: bequeath not to their lot
+The shame that from them no device can take,
+The blemish that will never be forgot;
+Worse than a slavish wipe or birth-hour's blot:
+For marks descried in men's nativity
+Are nature's faults, not their own infamy.'
+
+Here with a cockatrice' dead-killing eye
+He rouseth up himself and makes a pause;
+While she, the picture of pure piety,
+Like a white hind under the gripe's sharp claws,
+Pleads, in a wilderness where are no laws,
+To the rough beast that knows no gentle right,
+Nor aught obeys but his foul appetite.
+
+But when a black-faced cloud the world doth threat,
+In his dim mist the aspiring mountains hiding,
+From earth's dark womb some gentle gust doth get,
+Which blows these pitchy vapours from their bidding,
+Hindering their present fall by this dividing;
+So his unhallow'd haste her words delays,
+And moody Pluto winks while Orpheus plays.
+
+Yet, foul night-waking cat, he doth but dally,
+While in his hold-fast foot the weak mouse panteth:
+Her sad behavior feeds his vulture folly,
+A swallowing gulf that even in plenty wanteth:
+His ear her prayers admits, but his heart granteth
+No penetrable entrance to her plaining:
+Tears harden lust, though marble wear with raining.
+
+Her pity-pleading eyes are sadly fix'd
+In the remorseless wrinkles of his face;
+Her modest eloquence with sighs is mix'd,
+Which to her oratory adds more grace.
+She puts the period often from his place;
+And midst the sentence so her accent breaks,
+That twice she doth begin ere once she speaks.
+
+She conjures him by high almighty Jove,
+By knighthood, gentry, and sweet friendship's oath,
+By her untimely tears, her husband's love,
+By holy human law, and common troth,
+By heaven and earth, and all the power of both,
+That to his borrow'd bed he make retire,
+And stoop to honour, not to foul desire.
+
+Quoth she, 'Reward not hospitality
+With such black payment as thou hast pretended;
+Mud not the fountain that gave drink to thee;
+Mar not the thing that cannot be amended;
+End thy ill aim before thy shoot be ended;
+He is no woodman that doth bend his bow
+To strike a poor unseasonable doe.
+
+'My husband is thy friend; for his sake spare me:
+Thyself art mighty; for thine own sake leave me:
+Myself a weakling; do not then ensnare me:
+Thou look'st not like deceit; do not deceive me.
+My sighs, like whirlwinds, labour hence to heave thee:
+If ever man were moved with woman moans,
+Be moved with my tears, my sighs, my groans:
+
+'All which together, like a troubled ocean,
+Beat at thy rocky and wreck-threatening heart,
+To soften it with their continual motion;
+For stones dissolved to water do convert.
+O, if no harder than a stone thou art,
+Melt at my tears, and be compassionate!
+Soft pity enters at an iron gate.
+
+'In Tarquin's likeness I did entertain thee:
+Hast thou put on his shape to do him shame?
+To all the host of heaven I complain me,
+Thou wrong'st his honour, wound'st his princely name.
+Thou art not what thou seem'st; and if the same,
+Thou seem'st not what thou art, a god, a king;
+For kings like gods should govern everything.
+
+'How will thy shame be seeded in thine age,
+When thus thy vices bud before thy spring!
+If in thy hope thou darest do such outrage,
+What darest thou not when once thou art a king?
+O, be remember'd, no outrageous thing
+From vassal actors can be wiped away;
+Then kings' misdeeds cannot be hid in clay.
+
+'This deed will make thee only loved for fear;
+But happy monarchs still are fear'd for love:
+With foul offenders thou perforce must bear,
+When they in thee the like offences prove:
+If but for fear of this, thy will remove;
+For princes are the glass, the school, the book,
+Where subjects' eyes do learn, do read, do look.
+
+'And wilt thou be the school where Lust shall learn?
+Must he in thee read lectures of such shame?
+Wilt thou be glass wherein it shall discern
+Authority for sin, warrant for blame,
+To privilege dishonour in thy name?
+Thou black'st reproach against long-living laud,
+And makest fair reputation but a bawd.
+
+'Hast thou command? by him that gave it thee,
+From a pure heart command thy rebel will:
+Draw not thy sword to guard iniquity,
+For it was lent thee all that brood to kill.
+Thy princely office how canst thou fulfil,
+When, pattern'd by thy fault, foul sin may say,
+He learn'd to sin, and thou didst teach the way?
+
+'Think but how vile a spectacle it were,
+To view thy present trespass in another.
+Men's faults do seldom to themselves appear;
+Their own transgressions partially they smother:
+This guilt would seem death-worthy in thy brother.
+O, how are they wrapp'd in with infamies
+That from their own misdeeds askance their eyes!
+
+'To thee, to thee, my heaved-up hands appeal,
+Not to seducing lust, thy rash relier:
+I sue for exiled majesty's repeal;
+Let him return, and flattering thoughts retire:
+His true respect will prison false desire,
+And wipe the dim mist from thy doting eyne,
+That thou shalt see thy state and pity mine.'
+
+'Have done,' quoth he: 'my uncontrolled tide
+Turns not, but swells the higher by this let.
+Small lights are soon blown out, huge fires abide,
+And with the wind in greater fury fret:
+The petty streams that pay a daily debt
+To their salt sovereign, with their fresh falls' haste
+Add to his flow, but alter not his taste.'
+
+'Thou art,' quoth she, 'a sea, a sovereign king;
+And, lo, there falls into thy boundless flood
+Black lust, dishonour, shame, misgoverning,
+Who seek to stain the ocean of thy blood.
+If all these pretty ills shall change thy good,
+Thy sea within a puddle's womb is hearsed,
+And not the puddle in thy sea dispersed.
+
+'So shall these slaves be king, and thou their slave;
+Thou nobly base, they basely dignified;
+Thou their fair life, and they thy fouler grave:
+Thou loathed in their shame, they in thy pride:
+The lesser thing should not the greater hide;
+The cedar stoops not to the base shrub's foot,
+But low shrubs wither at the cedar's root.
+
+'So let thy thoughts, low vassals to thy state'--
+No more,' quoth he; 'by heaven, I will not hear thee:
+Yield to my love; if not, enforced hate,
+Instead of love's coy touch, shall rudely tear thee;
+That done, despitefully I mean to bear thee
+Unto the base bed of some rascal groom,
+To be thy partner in this shameful doom.'
+
+This said, he sets his foot upon the light,
+For light and lust are deadly enemies:
+Shame folded up in blind concealing night,
+When most unseen, then most doth tyrannize.
+The wolf hath seized his prey, the poor lamb cries;
+Till with her own white fleece her voice controll'd
+Entombs her outcry in her lips' sweet fold:
+
+For with the nightly linen that she wears
+He pens her piteous clamours in her head;
+Cooling his hot face in the chastest tears
+That ever modest eyes with sorrow shed.
+O, that prone lust should stain so pure a bed!
+The spots whereof could weeping purify,
+Her tears should drop on them perpetually.
+
+But she hath lost a dearer thing than life,
+And he hath won what he would lose again:
+This forced league doth force a further strife;
+This momentary joy breeds months of pain;
+This hot desire converts to cold disdain:
+Pure Chastity is rifled of her store,
+And Lust, the thief, far poorer than before.
+
+Look, as the full-fed hound or gorged hawk,
+Unapt for tender smell or speedy flight,
+Make slow pursuit, or altogether balk
+The prey wherein by nature they delight;
+So surfeit-taking Tarquin fares this night:
+His taste delicious, in digestion souring,
+Devours his will, that lived by foul devouring.
+
+O, deeper sin than bottomless conceit
+Can comprehend in still imagination!
+Drunken Desire must vomit his receipt,
+Ere he can see his own abomination.
+While Lust is in his pride, no exclamation
+Can curb his heat or rein his rash desire,
+Till like a jade Self-will himself doth tire.
+
+And then with lank and lean discolour'd cheek,
+With heavy eye, knit brow, and strengthless pace,
+Feeble Desire, all recreant, poor, and meek,
+Like to a bankrupt beggar wails his case:
+The flesh being proud, Desire doth fight with Grace,
+For there it revels; and when that decays,
+The guilty rebel for remission prays.
+
+So fares it with this faultful lord of Rome,
+Who this accomplishment so hotly chased;
+For now against himself he sounds this doom,
+That through the length of times he stands disgraced:
+Besides, his soul's fair temple is defaced;
+To whose weak ruins muster troops of cares,
+To ask the spotted princess how she fares.
+
+She says, her subjects with foul insurrection
+Have batter'd down her consecrated wall,
+And by their mortal fault brought in subjection
+Her immortality, and made her thrall
+To living death and pain perpetual:
+Which in her prescience she controlled still,
+But her foresight could not forestall their will.
+
+Even in this thought through the dark night he stealeth,
+A captive victor that hath lost in gain;
+Bearing away the wound that nothing healeth,
+The scar that will, despite of cure, remain;
+Leaving his spoil perplex'd in greater pain.
+She bears the load of lust he left behind,
+And he the burden of a guilty mind.
+
+He like a thievish dog creeps sadly thence;
+She like a wearied lamb lies panting there;
+He scowls and hates himself for his offence;
+She, desperate, with her nails her flesh doth tear;
+He faintly flies, sneaking with guilty fear;
+She stays, exclaiming on the direful night;
+He runs, and chides his vanish'd, loathed delight.
+
+He thence departs a heavy convertite;
+She there remains a hopeless castaway;
+He in his speed looks for the morning light;
+She prays she never may behold the day,
+'For day,' quoth she, 'nights scapes doth open lay,
+And my true eyes have never practised how
+To cloak offences with a cunning brow.
+
+'They think not but that every eye can see
+The same disgrace which they themselves behold;
+And therefore would they still in darkness be,
+To have their unseen sin remain untold;
+For they their guilt with weeping will unfold,
+And grave, like water that doth eat in steel,
+Upon my cheeks what helpless shame I feel.'
+
+Here she exclaims against repose and rest,
+And bids her eyes hereafter still be blind.
+She wakes her heart by beating on her breast,
+And bids it leap from thence, where it may find
+Some purer chest to close so pure a mind.
+Frantic with grief thus breathes she forth her spite
+Against the unseen secrecy of night:
+
+'O comfort-killing Night, image of hell!
+Dim register and notary of shame!
+Black stage for tragedies and murders fell!
+Vast sin-concealing chaos! nurse of blame!
+Blind muffled bawd! dark harbour for defame!
+Grim cave of death! whispering conspirator
+With close-tongued treason and the ravisher!
+
+'O hateful, vaporous, and foggy Night!
+Since thou art guilty of my cureless crime,
+Muster thy mists to meet the eastern light,
+Make war against proportion'd course of time;
+Or if thou wilt permit the sun to climb
+His wonted height, yet ere he go to bed,
+Knit poisonous clouds about his golden head.
+
+'With rotten damps ravish the morning air;
+Let their exhaled unwholesome breaths make sick
+The life of purity, the supreme fair,
+Ere he arrive his weary noon-tide prick;
+And let thy misty vapours march so thick,
+That in their smoky ranks his smother'd light
+May set at noon and make perpetual night.
+
+'Were Tarquin Night, as he is but Night's child,
+The silver-shining queen he would distain;
+Her twinkling handmaids too, by him defiled,
+Through Night's black bosom should not peep again:
+So should I have co-partners in my pain;
+And fellowship in woe doth woe assuage,
+As palmers' chat makes short their pilgrimage.
+
+'Where now I have no one to blush with me,
+To cross their arms and hang their heads with mine,
+To mask their brows and hide their infamy;
+But I alone alone must sit and pine,
+Seasoning the earth with showers of silver brine,
+Mingling my talk with tears, my grief with groans,
+Poor wasting monuments of lasting moans.
+
+'O Night, thou furnace of foul-reeking smoke,
+Let not the jealous Day behold that face
+Which underneath thy black all-hiding cloak
+Immodestly lies martyr'd with disgrace!
+Keep still possession of thy gloomy place,
+That all the faults which in thy reign are made
+May likewise be sepulchred in thy shade!
+
+'Make me not object to the tell-tale Day!
+The light will show, character'd in my brow,
+The story of sweet chastity's decay,
+The impious breach of holy wedlock vow:
+Yea the illiterate, that know not how
+To cipher what is writ in learned books,
+Will quote my loathsome trespass in my looks.
+
+'The nurse, to still her child, will tell my story,
+And fright her crying babe with Tarquin's name;
+The orator, to deck his oratory,
+Will couple my reproach to Tarquin's shame;
+Feast-finding minstrels, tuning my defame,
+Will tie the hearers to attend each line,
+How Tarquin wronged me, I Collatine.
+
+'Let my good name, that senseless reputation,
+For Collatine's dear love be kept unspotted:
+If that be made a theme for disputation,
+The branches of another root are rotted,
+And undeserved reproach to him allotted
+That is as clear from this attaint of mine
+As I, ere this, was pure to Collatine.
+
+'O unseen shame! invisible disgrace!
+O unfelt sore! crest-wounding, private scar!
+Reproach is stamp'd in Collatinus' face,
+And Tarquin's eye may read the mot afar,
+How he in peace is wounded, not in war.
+Alas, how many bear such shameful blows,
+Which not themselves, but he that gives them knows!
+
+'If, Collatine, thine honour lay in me,
+From me by strong assault it is bereft.
+My honour lost, and I, a drone-like bee,
+Have no perfection of my summer left,
+But robb'd and ransack'd by injurious theft:
+In thy weak hive a wandering wasp hath crept,
+And suck'd the honey which thy chaste bee kept.
+
+'Yet am I guilty of thy honour's wrack;
+Yet for thy honour did I entertain him;
+Coming from thee, I could not put him back,
+For it had been dishonour to disdain him:
+Besides, of weariness he did complain him,
+And talk'd of virtue: O unlook'd-for evil,
+When virtue is profaned in such a devil!
+
+'Why should the worm intrude the maiden bud?
+Or hateful cuckoos hatch in sparrows' nests?
+Or toads infect fair founts with venom mud?
+Or tyrant folly lurk in gentle breasts?
+Or kings be breakers of their own behests?
+But no perfection is so absolute,
+That some impurity doth not pollute.
+
+'The aged man that coffers-up his gold
+Is plagued with cramps and gouts and painful fits;
+And scarce hath eyes his treasure to behold,
+But like still-pining Tantalus he sits,
+And useless barns the harvest of his wits;
+Having no other pleasure of his gain
+But torment that it cannot cure his pain.
+
+'So then he hath it when he cannot use it,
+And leaves it to be master'd by his young;
+Who in their pride do presently abuse it:
+Their father was too weak, and they too strong,
+To hold their cursed-blessed fortune long.
+The sweets we wish for turn to loathed sours
+Even in the moment that we call them ours.
+
+'Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring;
+Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers;
+The adder hisses where the sweet birds sing;
+What virtue breeds iniquity devours:
+We have no good that we can say is ours,
+But ill-annexed Opportunity
+Or kills his life or else his quality.
+
+'O Opportunity, thy guilt is great!
+'Tis thou that executest the traitor's treason:
+Thou set'st the wolf where he the lamb may get;
+Whoever plots the sin, thou 'point'st the season;
+'Tis thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason;
+And in thy shady cell, where none may spy him,
+Sits Sin, to seize the souls that wander by him.
+
+'Thou makest the vestal violate her oath;
+Thou blow'st the fire when temperance is thaw'd;
+Thou smother'st honesty, thou murder'st troth;
+Thou foul abettor! thou notorious bawd!
+Thou plantest scandal and displacest laud:
+Thou ravisher, thou traitor, thou false thief,
+Thy honey turns to gall, thy joy to grief!
+
+'Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame,
+Thy private feasting to a public fast,
+Thy smoothing titles to a ragged name,
+Thy sugar'd tongue to bitter wormwood taste:
+Thy violent vanities can never last.
+How comes it then, vile Opportunity,
+Being so bad, such numbers seek for thee?
+
+'When wilt thou be the humble suppliant's friend,
+And bring him where his suit may be obtain'd?
+When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end?
+Or free that soul which wretchedness hath chain'd?
+Give physic to the sick, ease to the pain'd?
+The poor, lame, blind, halt, creep, cry out for thee;
+But they ne'er meet with Opportunity.
+
+'The patient dies while the physician sleeps;
+The orphan pines while the oppressor feeds;
+Justice is feasting while the widow weeps;
+Advice is sporting while infection breeds:
+Thou grant'st no time for charitable deeds:
+Wrath, envy, treason, rape, and murder's rages,
+Thy heinous hours wait on them as their pages.
+
+'When Truth and Virtue have to do with thee,
+A thousand crosses keep them from thy aid:
+They buy thy help; but Sin ne'er gives a fee,
+He gratis comes; and thou art well appaid
+As well to hear as grant what he hath said.
+My Collatine would else have come to me
+When Tarquin did, but he was stay'd by thee.
+
+Guilty thou art of murder and of theft,
+Guilty of perjury and subornation,
+Guilty of treason, forgery, and shift,
+Guilty of incest, that abomination;
+An accessary by thine inclination
+To all sins past, and all that are to come,
+From the creation to the general doom.
+
+'Mis-shapen Time, copesmate of ugly Night,
+Swift subtle post, carrier of grisly care,
+Eater of youth, false slave to false delight,
+Base watch of woes, sin's pack-horse, virtue's snare;
+Thou nursest all and murder'st all that are:
+O, hear me then, injurious, shifting Time!
+Be guilty of my death, since of my crime.
+
+'Why hath thy servant, Opportunity,
+Betray'd the hours thou gavest me to repose,
+Cancell'd my fortunes, and enchained me
+To endless date of never-ending woes?
+Time's office is to fine the hate of foes;
+To eat up errors by opinion bred,
+Not spend the dowry of a lawful bed.
+
+'Time's glory is to calm contending kings,
+To unmask falsehood and bring truth to light,
+To stamp the seal of time in aged things,
+To wake the morn and sentinel the night,
+To wrong the wronger till he render right,
+To ruinate proud buildings with thy hours,
+And smear with dust their glittering golden towers;
+
+'To fill with worm-holes stately monuments,
+To feed oblivion with decay of things,
+To blot old books and alter their contents,
+To pluck the quills from ancient ravens' wings,
+To dry the old oak's sap and cherish springs,
+To spoil antiquities of hammer'd steel,
+And turn the giddy round of Fortune's wheel;
+
+'To show the beldam daughters of her daughter,
+To make the child a man, the man a child,
+To slay the tiger that doth live by slaughter,
+To tame the unicorn and lion wild,
+To mock the subtle in themselves beguiled,
+To cheer the ploughman with increaseful crops,
+And waste huge stones with little water drops.
+
+'Why work'st thou mischief in thy pilgrimage,
+Unless thou couldst return to make amends?
+One poor retiring minute in an age
+Would purchase thee a thousand thousand friends,
+Lending him wit that to bad debtors lends:
+O, this dread night, wouldst thou one hour come back,
+I could prevent this storm and shun thy wrack!
+
+'Thou ceaseless lackey to eternity,
+With some mischance cross Tarquin in his flight:
+Devise extremes beyond extremity,
+To make him curse this cursed crimeful night:
+Let ghastly shadows his lewd eyes affright;
+And the dire thought of his committed evil
+Shape every bush a hideous shapeless devil.
+
+'Disturb his hours of rest with restless trances,
+Afflict him in his bed with bedrid groans;
+Let there bechance him pitiful mischances,
+To make him moan; but pity not his moans:
+Stone him with harden'd hearts harder than stones;
+And let mild women to him lose their mildness,
+Wilder to him than tigers in their wildness.
+
+'Let him have time to tear his curled hair,
+Let him have time against himself to rave,
+Let him have time of Time's help to despair,
+Let him have time to live a loathed slave,
+Let him have time a beggar's orts to crave,
+And time to see one that by alms doth live
+Disdain to him disdained scraps to give.
+
+'Let him have time to see his friends his foes,
+And merry fools to mock at him resort;
+Let him have time to mark how slow time goes
+In time of sorrow, and how swift and short
+His time of folly and his time of sport;
+And ever let his unrecalling crime
+Have time to wail th' abusing of his time.
+
+'O Time, thou tutor both to good and bad,
+Teach me to curse him that thou taught'st this ill!
+At his own shadow let the thief run mad,
+Himself himself seek every hour to kill!
+Such wretched hands such wretched blood should spill;
+For who so base would such an office have
+As slanderous death's-man to so base a slave?
+
+'The baser is he, coming from a king,
+To shame his hope with deeds degenerate:
+The mightier man, the mightier is the thing
+That makes him honour'd, or begets him hate;
+For greatest scandal waits on greatest state.
+The moon being clouded presently is miss'd,
+But little stars may hide them when they list.
+
+'The crow may bathe his coal-black wings in mire,
+And unperceived fly with the filth away;
+But if the like the snow-white swan desire,
+The stain upon his silver down will stay.
+Poor grooms are sightless night, kings glorious day:
+Gnats are unnoted wheresoe'er they fly,
+But eagles gazed upon with every eye.
+
+'Out, idle words, servants to shallow fools!
+Unprofitable sounds, weak arbitrators!
+Busy yourselves in skill-contending schools;
+Debate where leisure serves with dull debaters;
+To trembling clients be you mediators:
+For me, I force not argument a straw,
+Since that my case is past the help of law.
+
+'In vain I rail at Opportunity,
+At Time, at Tarquin, and uncheerful Night;
+In vain I cavil with mine infamy,
+In vain I spurn at my confirm'd despite:
+This helpless smoke of words doth me no right.
+The remedy indeed to do me good
+Is to let forth my foul-defiled blood.
+
+'Poor hand, why quiver'st thou at this decree?
+Honour thyself to rid me of this shame:
+For if I die, my honour lives in thee;
+But if I live, thou livest in my defame:
+Since thou couldst not defend thy loyal dame,
+And wast afeard to scratch her wicked foe,
+Kill both thyself and her for yielding so.'
+
+This said, from her be-tumbled couch she starteth,
+To find some desperate instrument of death:
+But this no slaughterhouse no tool imparteth
+To make more vent for passage of her breath;
+Which, thronging through her lips, so vanisheth
+As smoke from AEtna, that in air consumes,
+Or that which from discharged cannon fumes.
+
+'In vain,' quoth she, 'I live, and seek in vain
+Some happy mean to end a hapless life.
+I fear'd by Tarquin's falchion to be slain,
+Yet for the self-same purpose seek a knife:
+But when I fear'd I was a loyal wife:
+So am I now: O no, that cannot be;
+Of that true type hath Tarquin rifled me.
+
+'O, that is gone for which I sought to live,
+And therefore now I need not fear to die.
+To clear this spot by death, at least I give
+A badge of fame to slander's livery;
+A dying life to living infamy:
+Poor helpless help, the treasure stol'n away,
+To burn the guiltless casket where it lay!
+
+'Well, well, dear Collatine, thou shalt not know
+The stained taste of violated troth;
+I will not wrong thy true affection so,
+To flatter thee with an infringed oath;
+This bastard graff shall never come to growth:
+He shall not boast who did thy stock pollute
+That thou art doting father of his fruit.
+
+'Nor shall he smile at thee in secret thought,
+Nor laugh with his companions at thy state:
+But thou shalt know thy interest was not bought
+Basely with gold, but stol'n from forth thy gate.
+For me, I am the mistress of my fate,
+And with my trespass never will dispense,
+Till life to death acquit my forced offence.
+
+'I will not poison thee with my attaint,
+Nor fold my fault in cleanly-coin'd excuses;
+My sable ground of sin I will not paint,
+To hide the truth of this false night's abuses:
+My tongue shall utter all; mine eyes, like sluices,
+As from a mountain-spring that feeds a dale,
+Shall gush pure streams to purge my impure tale.'
+
+By this, lamenting Philomel had ended
+The well-tuned warble of her nightly sorrow,
+And solemn night with slow sad gait descended
+To ugly hell; when, lo, the blushing morrow
+Lends light to all fair eyes that light will borrow:
+But cloudy Lucrece shames herself to see,
+And therefore still in night would cloister'd be.
+
+Revealing day through every cranny spies,
+And seems to point her out where she sits weeping;
+To whom she sobbing speaks: 'O eye of eyes,
+Why pry'st thou through my window? leave thy peeping:
+Mock with thy tickling beams eyes that are sleeping:
+Brand not my forehead with thy piercing light,
+For day hath nought to do what's done by night.'
+
+Thus cavils she with every thing she sees:
+True grief is fond and testy as a child,
+Who wayward once, his mood with nought agrees:
+Old woes, not infant sorrows, bear them mild;
+Continuance tames the one; the other wild,
+Like an unpractised swimmer plunging still,
+With too much labour drowns for want of skill.
+
+So she, deep-drenched in a sea of care,
+Holds disputation with each thing she views,
+And to herself all sorrow doth compare;
+No object but her passion's strength renews;
+And as one shifts, another straight ensues:
+Sometime her grief is dumb and hath no words;
+Sometime 'tis mad and too much talk affords.
+
+The little birds that tune their morning's joy
+Make her moans mad with their sweet melody:
+For mirth doth search the bottom of annoy;
+Sad souls are slain in merry company;
+Grief best is pleased with grief's society:
+True sorrow then is feelingly sufficed
+When with like semblance it is sympathized.
+
+'Tis double death to drown in ken of shore;
+He ten times pines that pines beholding food;
+To see the salve doth make the wound ache more;
+Great grief grieves most at that would do it good;
+Deep woes roll forward like a gentle flood,
+Who being stopp'd, the bounding banks o'erflows;
+Grief dallied with nor law nor limit knows.
+
+'You mocking-birds,' quoth she, 'your tunes entomb
+Within your hollow-swelling feather'd breasts,
+And in my hearing be you mute and dumb:
+My restless discord loves no stops nor rests;
+A woeful hostess brooks not merry guests:
+Relish your nimble notes to pleasing ears;
+Distress likes dumps when time is kept with tears.
+
+'Come, Philomel, that sing'st of ravishment,
+Make thy sad grove in my dishevell'd hair:
+As the dank earth weeps at thy languishment,
+So I at each sad strain will strain a tear,
+And with deep groans the diapason bear;
+For burden-wise I'll hum on Tarquin still,
+While thou on Tereus descant'st better skill.
+
+'And whiles against a thorn thou bear'st thy part,
+To keep thy sharp woes waking, wretched I,
+To imitate thee well, against my heart
+Will fix a sharp knife to affright mine eye;
+Who, if it wink, shall thereon fall and die.
+These means, as frets upon an instrument,
+Shall tune our heart-strings to true languishment.
+
+'And for, poor bird, thou sing'st not in the day,
+As shaming any eye should thee behold,
+Some dark deep desert, seated from the way,
+That knows not parching heat nor freezing cold,
+Will we find out; and there we will unfold
+To creatures stern sad tunes, to change their kinds:
+Since men prove beasts, let beasts bear gentle minds.'
+
+As the poor frighted deer, that stands at gaze,
+Wildly determining which way to fly,
+Or one encompass'd with a winding maze,
+That cannot tread the way out readily;
+So with herself is she in mutiny,
+To live or die which of the twain were better,
+When life is shamed, and death reproach's debtor.
+
+'To kill myself,' quoth she, 'alack, what were it,
+But with my body my poor soul's pollution?
+They that lose half with greater patience bear it
+Than they whose whole is swallow'd in confusion.
+That mother tries a merciless conclusion
+Who, having two sweet babes, when death takes one,
+Will slay the other and be nurse to none.
+
+'My body or my soul, which was the dearer,
+When the one pure, the other made divine?
+Whose love of either to myself was nearer,
+When both were kept for heaven and Collatine?
+Ay me! the bark peel'd from the lofty pine,
+His leaves will wither and his sap decay;
+So must my soul, her bark being peel'd away.
+
+'Her house is sack'd, her quiet interrupted,
+Her mansion batter'd by the enemy;
+Her sacred temple spotted, spoil'd, corrupted,
+Grossly engirt with daring infamy:
+Then let it not be call'd impiety,
+If in this blemish'd fort I make some hole
+Through which I may convey this troubled soul.
+
+'Yet die I will not till my Collatine
+Have heard the cause of my untimely death;
+That he may vow, in that sad hour of mine,
+Revenge on him that made me stop my breath.
+My stained blood to Tarquin I'll bequeath,
+Which by him tainted shall for him be spent,
+And as his due writ in my testament.
+
+'My honour I'll bequeath unto the knife
+That wounds my body so dishonoured.
+'Tis honour to deprive dishonour'd life;
+The one will live, the other being dead:
+So of shame's ashes shall my fame be bred;
+For in my death I murder shameful scorn:
+My shame so dead, mine honour is new-born.
+
+'Dear lord of that dear jewel I have lost,
+What legacy shall I bequeath to thee?
+My resolution, love, shall be thy boast,
+By whose example thou revenged mayest be.
+How Tarquin must be used, read it in me:
+Myself, thy friend, will kill myself, thy foe,
+And for my sake serve thou false Tarquin so.
+
+'This brief abridgement of my will I make:
+My soul and body to the skies and ground;
+My resolution, husband, do thou take;
+Mine honour be the knife's that makes my wound;
+My shame be his that did my fame confound;
+And all my fame that lives disbursed be
+To those that live, and think no shame of me.
+
+'Thou, Collatine, shalt oversee this will;
+How was I overseen that thou shalt see it!
+My blood shall wash the slander of mine ill;
+My life's foul deed, my life's fair end shall free it.
+Faint not, faint heart, but stoutly say 'So be it:'
+Yield to my hand; my hand shall conquer thee:
+Thou dead, both die, and both shall victors be.'
+
+This Plot of death when sadly she had laid,
+And wiped the brinish pearl from her bright eyes,
+With untuned tongue she hoarsely calls her maid,
+Whose swift obedience to her mistress hies;
+For fleet-wing'd duty with thought's feathers flies.
+Poor Lucrece' cheeks unto her maid seem so
+As winter meads when sun doth melt their snow.
+
+Her mistress she doth give demure good-morrow,
+With soft-slow tongue, true mark of modesty,
+And sorts a sad look to her lady's sorrow,
+For why her face wore sorrow's livery;
+But durst not ask of her audaciously
+Why her two suns were cloud-eclipsed so,
+Nor why her fair cheeks over-wash'd with woe.
+
+But as the earth doth weep, the sun being set,
+Each flower moisten'd like a melting eye;
+Even so the maid with swelling drops gan wet
+Her circled eyne, enforced by sympathy
+Of those fair suns set in her mistress' sky,
+Who in a salt-waved ocean quench their light,
+Which makes the maid weep like the dewy night.
+
+A pretty while these pretty creatures stand,
+Like ivory conduits coral cisterns filling:
+One justly weeps; the other takes in hand
+No cause, but company, of her drops spilling:
+Their gentle sex to weep are often willing;
+Grieving themselves to guess at others' smarts,
+And then they drown their eyes or break their hearts.
+
+For men have marble, women waxen, minds,
+And therefore are they form'd as marble will;
+The weak oppress'd, the impression of strange kinds
+Is form'd in them by force, by fraud, or skill:
+Then call them not the authors of their ill,
+No more than wax shall be accounted evil
+Wherein is stamp'd the semblance of a devil.
+
+Their smoothness, like a goodly champaign plain,
+Lays open all the little worms that creep;
+In men, as in a rough-grown grove, remain
+Cave-keeping evils that obscurely sleep:
+Through crystal walls each little mote will peep:
+Though men can cover crimes with bold stern looks,
+Poor women's faces are their own fault's books.
+
+No man inveigh against the wither'd flower,
+But chide rough winter that the flower hath kill'd:
+Not that devour'd, but that which doth devour,
+Is worthy blame. O, let it not be hild
+Poor women's faults, that they are so fulfill'd
+With men's abuses: those proud lords, to blame,
+Make weak-made women tenants to their shame.
+
+The precedent whereof in Lucrece view,
+Assail'd by night with circumstances strong
+Of present death, and shame that might ensue
+By that her death, to do her husband wrong:
+Such danger to resistance did belong,
+That dying fear through all her body spread;
+And who cannot abuse a body dead?
+
+By this, mild patience bid fair Lucrece speak
+To the poor counterfeit of her complaining:
+'My girl,' quoth she, 'on what occasion break
+Those tears from thee, that down thy cheeks are
+raining?
+If thou dost weep for grief of my sustaining,
+Know, gentle wench, it small avails my mood:
+If tears could help, mine own would do me good.
+
+'But tell me, girl, when went'--and there she stay'd
+Till after a deep groan--'Tarquin from hence?'
+'Madam, ere I was up,' replied the maid,
+'The more to blame my sluggard negligence:
+Yet with the fault I thus far can dispense;
+Myself was stirring ere the break of day,
+And, ere I rose, was Tarquin gone away.
+
+'But, lady, if your maid may be so bold,
+She would request to know your heaviness.'
+'O, peace!' quoth Lucrece: 'if it should be told,
+The repetition cannot make it less;
+For more it is than I can well express:
+And that deep torture may be call'd a hell
+When more is felt than one hath power to tell.
+
+'Go, get me hither paper, ink, and pen:
+Yet save that labour, for I have them here.
+What should I say? One of my husband's men
+Bid thou be ready, by and by, to bear
+A letter to my lord, my love, my dear;
+Bid him with speed prepare to carry it;
+The cause craves haste, and it will soon be writ.'
+
+Her maid is gone, and she prepares to write,
+First hovering o'er the paper with her quill:
+Conceit and grief an eager combat fight;
+What wit sets down is blotted straight with will;
+This is too curious-good, this blunt and ill:
+Much like a press of people at a door,
+Throng her inventions, which shall go before.
+
+At last she thus begins: 'Thou worthy lord
+Of that unworthy wife that greeteth thee,
+Health to thy person! next vouchsafe t' afford--
+If ever, love, thy Lucrece thou wilt see--
+Some present speed to come and visit me.
+So, I commend me from our house in grief:
+My woes are tedious, though my words are brief.'
+
+Here folds she up the tenor of her woe,
+Her certain sorrow writ uncertainly.
+By this short schedule Collatine may know
+Her grief, but not her grief's true quality:
+She dares not thereof make discovery,
+Lest he should hold it her own gross abuse,
+Ere she with blood had stain'd her stain'd excuse.
+
+Besides, the life and feeling of her passion
+She hoards, to spend when he is by to hear her:
+When sighs and groans and tears may grace the fashion
+Of her disgrace, the better so to clear her
+From that suspicion which the world might bear her.
+To shun this blot, she would not blot the letter
+With words, till action might become them better.
+
+To see sad sights moves more than hear them told;
+For then eye interprets to the ear
+The heavy motion that it doth behold,
+When every part a part of woe doth bear.
+'Tis but a part of sorrow that we hear:
+Deep sounds make lesser noise than shallow fords,
+And sorrow ebbs, being blown with wind of words.
+
+Her letter now is seal'd, and on it writ
+'At Ardea to my lord with more than haste.'
+The post attends, and she delivers it,
+Charging the sour-faced groom to hie as fast
+As lagging fowls before the northern blast:
+Speed more than speed but dull and slow she deems:
+Extremity still urgeth such extremes.
+
+The homely villain court'sies to her low;
+And, blushing on her, with a steadfast eye
+Receives the scroll without or yea or no,
+And forth with bashful innocence doth hie.
+But they whose guilt within their bosoms lie
+Imagine every eye beholds their blame;
+For Lucrece thought he blush'd to her see shame:
+
+When, silly groom! God wot, it was defect
+Of spirit, Life, and bold audacity.
+Such harmless creatures have a true respect
+To talk in deeds, while others saucily
+Promise more speed, but do it leisurely:
+Even so this pattern of the worn-out age
+Pawn'd honest looks, but laid no words to gage.
+
+His kindled duty kindled her mistrust,
+That two red fires in both their faces blazed;
+She thought he blush'd, as knowing Tarquin's lust,
+And, blushing with him, wistly on him gazed;
+Her earnest eye did make him more amazed:
+The more she saw the blood his cheeks replenish,
+The more she thought he spied in her some blemish.
+
+But long she thinks till he return again,
+And yet the duteous vassal scarce is gone.
+The weary time she cannot entertain,
+For now 'tis stale to sigh, to weep, and groan:
+So woe hath wearied woe, moan tired moan,
+That she her plaints a little while doth stay,
+Pausing for means to mourn some newer way.
+
+At last she calls to mind where hangs a piece
+Of skilful painting, made for Priam's Troy:
+Before the which is drawn the power of Greece.
+For Helen's rape the city to destroy,
+Threatening cloud-kissing Ilion with annoy;
+Which the conceited painter drew so proud,
+As heaven, it seem'd, to kiss the turrets bow'd.
+
+A thousand lamentable objects there,
+In scorn of nature, art gave lifeless life:
+Many a dry drop seem'd a weeping tear,
+Shed for the slaughter'd husband by the wife:
+The red blood reek'd, to show the painter's strife;
+And dying eyes gleam'd forth their ashy lights,
+Like dying coals burnt out in tedious nights.
+
+There might you see the labouring pioner
+Begrimed with sweat, and smeared all with dust;
+And from the towers of Troy there would appear
+The very eyes of men through loop-holes thrust,
+Gazing upon the Greeks with little lust:
+Such sweet observance in this work was had,
+That one might see those far-off eyes look sad.
+
+In great commanders grace and majesty
+You might behold, triumphing in their faces;
+In youth, quick bearing and dexterity;
+Pale cowards, marching on with trembling paces;
+Which heartless peasants did so well resemble,
+That one would swear he saw them quake and tremble.
+
+In Ajax and Ulysses, O, what art
+Of physiognomy might one behold!
+The face of either cipher'd either's heart;
+Their face their manners most expressly told:
+In Ajax' eyes blunt rage and rigor roll'd;
+But the mild glance that sly Ulysses lent
+Show'd deep regard and smiling government.
+
+There pleading might you see grave Nestor stand,
+As 'twere encouraging the Greeks to fight;
+Making such sober action with his hand,
+That it beguiled attention, charm'd the sight:
+In speech, it seem'd, his beard, all silver white,
+Wagg'd up and down, and from his lips did fly
+Thin winding breath, which purl'd up to the sky.
+
+About him were a press of gaping faces,
+Which seem'd to swallow up his sound advice;
+All jointly listening, but with several graces,
+As if some mermaid did their ears entice,
+Some high, some low, the painter was so nice;
+The scalps of many, almost hid behind,
+To jump up higher seem'd, to mock the mind.
+
+Here one man's hand lean'd on another's head,
+His nose being shadow'd by his neighbour's ear;
+Here one being throng'd bears back, all boll'n and
+red;
+Another smother'd seems to pelt and swear;
+And in their rage such signs of rage they bear,
+As, but for loss of Nestor's golden words,
+It seem'd they would debate with angry swords.
+
+For much imaginary work was there;
+Conceit deceitful, so compact, so kind,
+That for Achilles' image stood his spear,
+Griped in an armed hand; himself, behind,
+Was left unseen, save to the eye of mind:
+A hand, a foot, a face, a leg, a head,
+Stood for the whole to be imagined.
+
+And from the walls of strong-besieged Troy
+When their brave hope, bold Hector, march'd to
+field,
+Stood many Trojan mothers, sharing joy
+To see their youthful sons bright weapons wield;
+And to their hope they such odd action yield,
+That through their light joy seemed to appear,
+Like bright things stain'd, a kind of heavy fear.
+
+And from the strand of Dardan, where they fought,
+To Simois' reedy banks the red blood ran,
+Whose waves to imitate the battle sought
+With swelling ridges; and their ranks began
+To break upon the galled shore, and than
+Retire again, till, meeting greater ranks,
+They join and shoot their foam at Simois' banks.
+
+To this well-painted piece is Lucrece come,
+To find a face where all distress is stell'd.
+Many she sees where cares have carved some,
+But none where all distress and dolour dwell'd,
+Till she despairing Hecuba beheld,
+Staring on Priam's wounds with her old eyes,
+Which bleeding under Pyrrhus' proud foot lies.
+
+In her the painter had anatomized
+Time's ruin, beauty's wreck, and grim care's reign:
+Her cheeks with chaps and wrinkles were disguised;
+Of what she was no semblance did remain:
+Her blue blood changed to black in every vein,
+Wanting the spring that those shrunk pipes had fed,
+Show'd life imprison'd in a body dead.
+
+On this sad shadow Lucrece spends her eyes,
+And shapes her sorrow to the beldam's woes,
+Who nothing wants to answer her but cries,
+And bitter words to ban her cruel foes:
+The painter was no god to lend her those;
+And therefore Lucrece swears he did her wrong,
+To give her so much grief and not a tongue.
+
+'Poor instrument,' quoth she,'without a sound,
+I'll tune thy woes with my lamenting tongue;
+And drop sweet balm in Priam's painted wound,
+And rail on Pyrrhus that hath done him wrong;
+And with my tears quench Troy that burns so long;
+And with my knife scratch out the angry eyes
+Of all the Greeks that are thine enemies.
+
+'Show me the strumpet that began this stir,
+That with my nails her beauty I may tear.
+Thy heat of lust, fond Paris, did incur
+This load of wrath that burning Troy doth bear:
+Thy eye kindled the fire that burneth here;
+And here in Troy, for trespass of thine eye,
+The sire, the son, the dame, and daughter die.
+
+'Why should the private pleasure of some one
+Become the public plague of many moe?
+Let sin, alone committed, light alone
+Upon his head that hath transgressed so;
+Let guiltless souls be freed from guilty woe:
+For one's offence why should so many fall,
+To plague a private sin in general?
+
+'Lo, here weeps Hecuba, here Priam dies,
+Here manly Hector faints, here Troilus swounds,
+Here friend by friend in bloody channel lies,
+And friend to friend gives unadvised wounds,
+And one man's lust these many lives confounds:
+Had doting Priam cheque'd his son's desire,
+Troy had been bright with fame and not with fire.'
+
+Here feelingly she weeps Troy's painted woes:
+For sorrow, like a heavy-hanging bell,
+Once set on ringing, with his own weight goes;
+Then little strength rings out the doleful knell:
+So Lucrece, set a-work, sad tales doth tell
+To pencill'd pensiveness and colour'd sorrow;
+She lends them words, and she their looks doth borrow.
+
+She throws her eyes about the painting round,
+And whom she finds forlorn she doth lament.
+At last she sees a wretched image bound,
+That piteous looks to Phrygian shepherds lent:
+His face, though full of cares, yet show'd content;
+Onward to Troy with the blunt swains he goes,
+So mild, that Patience seem'd to scorn his woes.
+
+In him the painter labour'd with his skill
+To hide deceit, and give the harmless show
+An humble gait, calm looks, eyes wailing still,
+A brow unbent, that seem'd to welcome woe;
+Cheeks neither red nor pale, but mingled so
+That blushing red no guilty instance gave,
+Nor ashy pale the fear that false hearts have.
+
+But, like a constant and confirmed devil,
+He entertain'd a show so seeming just,
+And therein so ensconced his secret evil,
+That jealousy itself could not mistrust
+False-creeping craft and perjury should thrust
+Into so bright a day such black-faced storms,
+Or blot with hell-born sin such saint-like forms.
+
+The well-skill'd workman this mild image drew
+For perjured Sinon, whose enchanting story
+The credulous old Priam after slew;
+Whose words like wildfire burnt the shining glory
+Of rich-built Ilion, that the skies were sorry,
+And little stars shot from their fixed places,
+When their glass fell wherein they view'd their faces.
+
+This picture she advisedly perused,
+And chid the painter for his wondrous skill,
+Saying, some shape in Sinon's was abused;
+So fair a form lodged not a mind so ill:
+And still on him she gazed; and gazing still,
+Such signs of truth in his plain face she spied,
+That she concludes the picture was belied.
+
+'It cannot be,' quoth she,'that so much guile'--
+She would have said 'can lurk in such a look;'
+But Tarquin's shape came in her mind the while,
+And from her tongue 'can lurk' from 'cannot' took:
+'It cannot be' she in that sense forsook,
+And turn'd it thus,' It cannot be, I find,
+But such a face should bear a wicked mind.
+
+'For even as subtle Sinon here is painted.
+So sober-sad, so weary, and so mild,
+As if with grief or travail he had fainted,
+To me came Tarquin armed; so beguiled
+With outward honesty, but yet defiled
+With inward vice: as Priam him did cherish,
+So did I Tarquin; so my Troy did perish.
+
+'Look, look, how listening Priam wets his eyes,
+To see those borrow'd tears that Sinon sheds!
+Priam, why art thou old and yet not wise?
+For every tear he falls a Trojan bleeds:
+His eye drops fire, no water thence proceeds;
+Those round clear pearls of his, that move thy pity,
+Are balls of quenchless fire to burn thy city.
+
+'Such devils steal effects from lightless hell;
+For Sinon in his fire doth quake with cold,
+And in that cold hot-burning fire doth dwell;
+These contraries such unity do hold,
+Only to flatter fools and make them bold:
+So Priam's trust false Sinon's tears doth flatter,
+That he finds means to burn his Troy with water.'
+
+Here, all enraged, such passion her assails,
+That patience is quite beaten from her breast.
+She tears the senseless Sinon with her nails,
+Comparing him to that unhappy guest
+Whose deed hath made herself herself detest:
+At last she smilingly with this gives o'er;
+'Fool, fool!' quoth she, 'his wounds will not be sore.'
+
+Thus ebbs and flows the current of her sorrow,
+And time doth weary time with her complaining.
+She looks for night, and then she longs for morrow,
+And both she thinks too long with her remaining:
+Short time seems long in sorrow's sharp sustaining:
+Though woe be heavy, yet it seldom sleeps,
+And they that watch see time how slow it creeps.
+
+Which all this time hath overslipp'd her thought,
+That she with painted images hath spent;
+Being from the feeling of her own grief brought
+By deep surmise of others' detriment;
+Losing her woes in shows of discontent.
+It easeth some, though none it ever cured,
+To think their dolour others have endured.
+
+But now the mindful messenger, come back,
+Brings home his lord and other company;
+Who finds his Lucrece clad in mourning black:
+And round about her tear-stained eye
+Blue circles stream'd; like rainbows in the sky:
+These water-galls in her dim element
+Foretell new storms to those already spent.
+
+Which when her sad-beholding husband saw,
+Amazedly in her sad face he stares:
+Her eyes, though sod in tears, look'd red and raw,
+Her lively colour kill'd with deadly cares.
+He hath no power to ask her how she fares:
+Both stood, like old acquaintance in a trance,
+Met far from home, wondering each other's chance.
+
+At last he takes her by the bloodless hand,
+And thus begins: 'What uncouth ill event
+Hath thee befall'n, that thou dost trembling stand?
+Sweet love, what spite hath thy fair colour spent?
+Why art thou thus attired in discontent?
+Unmask, dear dear, this moody heaviness,
+And tell thy grief, that we may give redress.'
+
+Three times with sighs she gives her sorrow fire,
+Ere once she can discharge one word of woe:
+At length address'd to answer his desire,
+She modestly prepares to let them know
+Her honour is ta'en prisoner by the foe;
+While Collatine and his consorted lords
+With sad attention long to hear her words.
+
+And now this pale swan in her watery nest
+Begins the sad dirge of her certain ending;
+'Few words,' quoth she, 'Shall fit the trespass best,
+Where no excuse can give the fault amending:
+In me moe woes than words are now depending;
+And my laments would be drawn out too long,
+To tell them all with one poor tired tongue.
+
+'Then be this all the task it hath to say
+Dear husband, in the interest of thy bed
+A stranger came, and on that pillow lay
+Where thou was wont to rest thy weary head;
+And what wrong else may be imagined
+By foul enforcement might be done to me,
+From that, alas, thy Lucrece is not free.
+
+'For in the dreadful dead of dark midnight,
+With shining falchion in my chamber came
+A creeping creature, with a flaming light,
+And softly cried 'Awake, thou Roman dame,
+And entertain my love; else lasting shame
+On thee and thine this night I will inflict,
+If thou my love's desire do contradict.
+
+' 'For some hard-favour'd groom of thine,' quoth he,
+'Unless thou yoke thy liking to my will,
+I'll murder straight, and then I'll slaughter thee
+And swear I found you where you did fulfil
+The loathsome act of lust, and so did kill
+The lechers in their deed: this act will be
+My fame and thy perpetual infamy.'
+
+'With this, I did begin to start and cry;
+And then against my heart he sets his sword,
+Swearing, unless I took all patiently,
+I should not live to speak another word;
+So should my shame still rest upon record,
+And never be forgot in mighty Rome
+Th' adulterate death of Lucrece and her groom.
+
+'Mine enemy was strong, my poor self weak,
+And far the weaker with so strong a fear:
+My bloody judge forbade my tongue to speak;
+No rightful plea might plead for justice there:
+His scarlet lust came evidence to swear
+That my poor beauty had purloin'd his eyes;
+And when the judge is robb'd the prisoner dies.
+
+'O, teach me how to make mine own excuse!
+Or at the least this refuge let me find;
+Though my gross blood be stain'd with this abuse,
+Immaculate and spotless is my mind;
+That was not forced; that never was inclined
+To accessary yieldings, but still pure
+Doth in her poison'd closet yet endure.'
+
+Lo, here, the hopeless merchant of this loss,
+With head declined, and voice damm'd up with woe,
+With sad set eyes, and wretched arms across,
+From lips new-waxen pale begins to blow
+The grief away that stops his answer so:
+But, wretched as he is, he strives in vain;
+What he breathes out his breath drinks up again.
+
+As through an arch the violent roaring tide
+Outruns the eye that doth behold his haste,
+Yet in the eddy boundeth in his pride
+Back to the strait that forced him on so fast;
+In rage sent out, recall'd in rage, being past:
+Even so his sighs, his sorrows, make a saw,
+To push grief on, and back the same grief draw.
+
+Which speechless woe of his poor she attendeth,
+And his untimely frenzy thus awaketh:
+'Dear lord, thy sorrow to my sorrow lendeth
+Another power; no flood by raining slaketh.
+My woe too sensible thy passion maketh
+More feeling-painful: let it then suffice
+To drown one woe, one pair of weeping eyes.
+
+'And for my sake, when I might charm thee so,
+For she that was thy Lucrece, now attend me:
+Be suddenly revenged on my foe,
+Thine, mine, his own: suppose thou dost defend me
+From what is past: the help that thou shalt lend me
+Comes all too late, yet let the traitor die;
+For sparing justice feeds iniquity.
+
+'But ere I name him, you fair lords,' quoth she,
+Speaking to those that came with Collatine,
+'Shall plight your honourable faiths to me,
+With swift pursuit to venge this wrong of mine;
+For 'tis a meritorious fair design
+To chase injustice with revengeful arms:
+Knights, by their oaths, should right poor ladies' harms.'
+
+At this request, with noble disposition
+Each present lord began to promise aid,
+As bound in knighthood to her imposition,
+Longing to hear the hateful foe bewray'd.
+But she, that yet her sad task hath not said,
+The protestation stops. 'O, speak, ' quoth she,
+'How may this forced stain be wiped from me?
+
+'What is the quality of mine offence,
+Being constrain'd with dreadful circumstance?
+May my pure mind with the foul act dispense,
+My low-declined honour to advance?
+May any terms acquit me from this chance?
+The poison'd fountain clears itself again;
+And why not I from this compelled stain?'
+
+With this, they all at once began to say,
+Her body's stain her mind untainted clears;
+While with a joyless smile she turns away
+The face, that map which deep impression bears
+Of hard misfortune, carved in it with tears.
+'No, no,' quoth she, 'no dame, hereafter living,
+By my excuse shall claim excuse's giving.'
+
+Here with a sigh, as if her heart would break,
+She throws forth Tarquin's name; 'He, he,' she says,
+But more than 'he' her poor tongue could not speak;
+Till after many accents and delays,
+Untimely breathings, sick and short assays,
+She utters this, 'He, he, fair lords, 'tis he,
+That guides this hand to give this wound to me.'
+
+Even here she sheathed in her harmless breast
+A harmful knife, that thence her soul unsheathed:
+That blow did that it from the deep unrest
+Of that polluted prison where it breathed:
+Her contrite sighs unto the clouds bequeath'd
+Her winged sprite, and through her wounds doth fly
+Life's lasting date from cancell'd destiny.
+
+Stone-still, astonish'd with this deadly deed,
+Stood Collatine and all his lordly crew;
+Till Lucrece' father, that beholds her bleed,
+Himself on her self-slaughter'd body threw;
+And from the purple fountain Brutus drew
+The murderous knife, and, as it left the place,
+Her blood, in poor revenge, held it in chase;
+
+And bubbling from her breast, it doth divide
+In two slow rivers, that the crimson blood
+Circles her body in on every side,
+Who, like a late-sack'd island, vastly stood
+Bare and unpeopled in this fearful flood.
+Some of her blood still pure and red remain'd,
+And some look'd black, and that false Tarquin stain'd.
+
+About the mourning and congealed face
+Of that black blood a watery rigol goes,
+Which seems to weep upon the tainted place:
+And ever since, as pitying Lucrece' woes,
+Corrupted blood some watery token shows;
+And blood untainted still doth red abide,
+Blushing at that which is so putrified.
+
+'Daughter, dear daughter,' old Lucretius cries,
+'That life was mine which thou hast here deprived.
+If in the child the father's image lies,
+Where shall I live now Lucrece is unlived?
+Thou wast not to this end from me derived.
+If children predecease progenitors,
+We are their offspring, and they none of ours.
+
+'Poor broken glass, I often did behold
+In thy sweet semblance my old age new born;
+But now that fresh fair mirror, dim and old,
+Shows me a bare-boned death by time out-worn:
+O, from thy cheeks my image thou hast torn,
+And shivered all the beauty of my glass,
+That I no more can see what once I was!
+
+'O time, cease thou thy course and last no longer,
+If they surcease to be that should survive.
+Shall rotten death make conquest of the stronger
+And leave the faltering feeble souls alive?
+The old bees die, the young possess their hive:
+Then live, sweet Lucrece, live again and see
+Thy father die, and not thy father thee!
+
+By this, starts Collatine as from a dream,
+And bids Lucretius give his sorrow place;
+And then in key-cold Lucrece' bleeding stream
+He falls, and bathes the pale fear in his face,
+And counterfeits to die with her a space;
+Till manly shame bids him possess his breath
+And live to be revenged on her death.
+
+The deep vexation of his inward soul
+Hath served a dumb arrest upon his tongue;
+Who, mad that sorrow should his use control,
+Or keep him from heart-easing words so long,
+Begins to talk; but through his lips do throng
+Weak words, so thick come in his poor heart's aid,
+That no man could distinguish what he said.
+
+Yet sometime 'Tarquin' was pronounced plain,
+But through his teeth, as if the name he tore.
+This windy tempest, till it blow up rain,
+Held back his sorrow's tide, to make it more;
+At last it rains, and busy winds give o'er:
+Then son and father weep with equal strife
+Who should weep most, for daughter or for wife.
+
+The one doth call her his, the other his,
+Yet neither may possess the claim they lay.
+The father says 'She's mine.' 'O, mine she is,'
+Replies her husband: 'do not take away
+My sorrow's interest; let no mourner say
+He weeps for her, for she was only mine,
+And only must be wail'd by Collatine.'
+
+'O,' quoth Lucretius,' I did give that life
+Which she too early and too late hath spill'd.'
+'Woe, woe,' quoth Collatine, 'she was my wife,
+I owed her, and 'tis mine that she hath kill'd.'
+'My daughter' and 'my wife' with clamours fill'd
+The dispersed air, who, holding Lucrece' life,
+Answer'd their cries, 'my daughter' and 'my wife.'
+
+Brutus, who pluck'd the knife from Lucrece' side,
+Seeing such emulation in their woe,
+Began to clothe his wit in state and pride,
+Burying in Lucrece' wound his folly's show.
+He with the Romans was esteemed so
+As silly-jeering idiots are with kings,
+For sportive words and uttering foolish things:
+
+But now he throws that shallow habit by,
+Wherein deep policy did him disguise;
+And arm'd his long-hid wits advisedly,
+To cheque the tears in Collatinus' eyes.
+'Thou wronged lord of Rome,' quoth be, 'arise:
+Let my unsounded self, supposed a fool,
+Now set thy long-experienced wit to school.
+
+'Why, Collatine, is woe the cure for woe?
+Do wounds help wounds, or grief help grievous deeds?
+Is it revenge to give thyself a blow
+For his foul act by whom thy fair wife bleeds?
+Such childish humour from weak minds proceeds:
+Thy wretched wife mistook the matter so,
+To slay herself, that should have slain her foe.
+
+'Courageous Roman, do not steep thy heart
+In such relenting dew of lamentations;
+But kneel with me and help to bear thy part,
+To rouse our Roman gods with invocations,
+That they will suffer these abominations,
+Since Rome herself in them doth stand disgraced,
+By our strong arms from forth her fair streets chased.
+
+'Now, by the Capitol that we adore,
+And by this chaste blood so unjustly stain'd,
+By heaven's fair sun that breeds the fat earth's
+store,
+By all our country rights in Rome maintain'd,
+And by chaste Lucrece' soul that late complain'd
+Her wrongs to us, and by this bloody knife,
+We will revenge the death of this true wife.'
+
+This said, he struck his hand upon his breast,
+And kiss'd the fatal knife, to end his vow;
+And to his protestation urged the rest,
+Who, wondering at him, did his words allow:
+Then jointly to the ground their knees they bow;
+And that deep vow, which Brutus made before,
+He doth again repeat, and that they swore.
+
+When they had sworn to this advised doom,
+They did conclude to bear dead Lucrece thence;
+To show her bleeding body thorough Rome,
+And so to publish Tarquin's foul offence:
+Which being done with speedy diligence,
+The Romans plausibly did give consent
+To Tarquin's everlasting banishment.
+
+
+
+
+	SONNETS
+
+
+
+TO THE ONLY BEGETTER OF
+THESE INSUING SONNETS
+MR. W. H. ALL HAPPINESS
+AND THAT ETERNITY
+PROMISED BY
+OUR EVER-LIVING POET WISHETH
+THE WELL-WISHING
+ADVENTURER IN
+SETTING FORTH
+T. T.
+
+
+I.
+
+FROM fairest creatures we desire increase,
+That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
+But as the riper should by time decease,
+His tender heir might bear his memory:
+But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
+Feed'st thy light'st flame with self-substantial fuel,
+Making a famine where abundance lies,
+Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
+Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament
+And only herald to the gaudy spring,
+Within thine own bud buriest thy content
+And, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding.
+  Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
+  To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.
+
+II.
+
+When forty winters shall beseige thy brow,
+And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,
+Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now,
+Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held:
+Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies,
+Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
+To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,
+Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.
+How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use,
+If thou couldst answer 'This fair child of mine
+Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,'
+Proving his beauty by succession thine!
+  This were to be new made when thou art old,
+  And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.
+
+III.
+
+Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
+Now is the time that face should form another;
+Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
+Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
+For where is she so fair whose unear'd womb
+Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
+Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
+Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
+Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee
+Calls back the lovely April of her prime:
+So thou through windows of thine age shall see
+Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
+  But if thou live, remember'd not to be,
+  Die single, and thine image dies with thee.
+
+IV.
+
+Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
+Upon thyself thy beauty's legacy?
+Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend,
+And being frank she lends to those are free.
+Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse
+The bounteous largess given thee to give?
+Profitless usurer, why dost thou use
+So great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?
+For having traffic with thyself alone,
+Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive.
+Then how, when nature calls thee to be gone,
+What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
+  Thy unused beauty must be tomb'd with thee,
+  Which, used, lives th' executor to be.
+
+V.
+
+Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
+The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
+Will play the tyrants to the very same
+And that unfair which fairly doth excel:
+For never-resting time leads summer on
+To hideous winter and confounds him there;
+Sap cheque'd with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,
+Beauty o'ersnow'd and bareness every where:
+Then, were not summer's distillation left,
+A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
+Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
+Nor it nor no remembrance what it was:
+  But flowers distill'd though they with winter meet,
+  Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.
+
+VI.
+
+Then let not winter's ragged hand deface
+In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd:
+Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
+With beauty's treasure, ere it be self-kill'd.
+That use is not forbidden usury,
+Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
+That's for thyself to breed another thee,
+Or ten times happier, be it ten for one;
+Ten times thyself were happier than thou art,
+If ten of thine ten times refigured thee:
+Then what could death do, if thou shouldst depart,
+Leaving thee living in posterity?
+  Be not self-will'd, for thou art much too fair
+  To be death's conquest and make worms thine heir.
+
+VII.
+
+Lo! in the orient when the gracious light
+Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
+Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
+Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
+And having climb'd the steep-up heavenly hill,
+Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
+yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
+Attending on his golden pilgrimage;
+But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,
+Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,
+The eyes, 'fore duteous, now converted are
+From his low tract and look another way:
+  So thou, thyself out-going in thy noon,
+  Unlook'd on diest, unless thou get a son.
+
+VIII.
+
+Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
+Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.
+Why lovest thou that which thou receivest not gladly,
+Or else receivest with pleasure thine annoy?
+If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
+By unions married, do offend thine ear,
+They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
+In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
+Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
+Strikes each in each by mutual ordering,
+Resembling sire and child and happy mother
+Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
+  Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,
+  Sings this to thee: 'thou single wilt prove none.'
+
+IX.
+
+Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye
+That thou consumest thyself in single life?
+Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die.
+The world will wail thee, like a makeless wife;
+The world will be thy widow and still weep
+That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
+When every private widow well may keep
+By children's eyes her husband's shape in mind.
+Look, what an unthrift in the world doth spend
+Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
+But beauty's waste hath in the world an end,
+And kept unused, the user so destroys it.
+  No love toward others in that bosom sits
+  That on himself such murderous shame commits.
+
+X.
+
+For shame! deny that thou bear'st love to any,
+Who for thyself art so unprovident.
+Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many,
+But that thou none lovest is most evident;
+For thou art so possess'd with murderous hate
+That 'gainst thyself thou stick'st not to conspire.
+Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
+Which to repair should be thy chief desire.
+O, change thy thought, that I may change my mind!
+Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?
+Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind,
+Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove:
+  Make thee another self, for love of me,
+  That beauty still may live in thine or thee.
+
+XI.
+
+As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growest
+In one of thine, from that which thou departest;
+And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestowest
+Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest.
+Herein lives wisdom, beauty and increase:
+Without this, folly, age and cold decay:
+If all were minded so, the times should cease
+And threescore year would make the world away.
+Let those whom Nature hath not made for store,
+Harsh featureless and rude, barrenly perish:
+Look, whom she best endow'd she gave the more;
+Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:
+  She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby
+  Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.
+
+XII.
+
+When I do count the clock that tells the time,
+And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
+When I behold the violet past prime,
+And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white;
+When lofty trees I see barren of leaves
+Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
+And summer's green all girded up in sheaves
+Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
+Then of thy beauty do I question make,
+That thou among the wastes of time must go,
+Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
+And die as fast as they see others grow;
+  And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
+  Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
+
+XIII.
+
+O, that you were yourself! but, love, you are
+No longer yours than you yourself here live:
+Against this coming end you should prepare,
+And your sweet semblance to some other give.
+So should that beauty which you hold in lease
+Find no determination: then you were
+Yourself again after yourself's decease,
+When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
+Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
+Which husbandry in honour might uphold
+Against the stormy gusts of winter's day
+And barren rage of death's eternal cold?
+  O, none but unthrifts! Dear my love, you know
+  You had a father: let your son say so.
+
+XIV.
+
+Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck;
+And yet methinks I have astronomy,
+But not to tell of good or evil luck,
+Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality;
+Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
+Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,
+Or say with princes if it shall go well,
+By oft predict that I in heaven find:
+But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
+And, constant stars, in them I read such art
+As truth and beauty shall together thrive,
+If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;
+  Or else of thee this I prognosticate:
+  Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.
+
+XV.
+
+When I consider every thing that grows
+Holds in perfection but a little moment,
+That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
+Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;
+When I perceive that men as plants increase,
+Cheered and cheque'd even by the self-same sky,
+Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
+And wear their brave state out of memory;
+Then the conceit of this inconstant stay
+Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,
+Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay,
+To change your day of youth to sullied night;
+  And all in war with Time for love of you,
+  As he takes from you, I engraft you new.
+
+XVI.
+
+But wherefore do not you a mightier way
+Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time?
+And fortify yourself in your decay
+With means more blessed than my barren rhyme?
+Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
+And many maiden gardens yet unset
+With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,
+Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
+So should the lines of life that life repair,
+Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen,
+Neither in inward worth nor outward fair,
+Can make you live yourself in eyes of men.
+  To give away yourself keeps yourself still,
+  And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill.
+
+XVII.
+
+Who will believe my verse in time to come,
+If it were fill'd with your most high deserts?
+Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
+Which hides your life and shows not half your parts.
+If I could write the beauty of your eyes
+And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
+The age to come would say 'This poet lies:
+Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.'
+So should my papers yellow'd with their age
+Be scorn'd like old men of less truth than tongue,
+And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage
+And stretched metre of an antique song:
+  But were some child of yours alive that time,
+  You should live twice; in it and in my rhyme.
+
+XVIII.
+
+Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
+Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
+Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
+And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
+Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
+And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
+And every fair from fair sometime declines,
+By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
+But thy eternal summer shall not fade
+Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
+Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
+When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
+  So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
+  So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
+
+XIX.
+
+Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws,
+And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
+Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
+And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood;
+Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,
+And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
+To the wide world and all her fading sweets;
+But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
+O, carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
+Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;
+Him in thy course untainted do allow
+For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.
+  Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
+  My love shall in my verse ever live young.
+
+XX.
+
+A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
+Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
+A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
+With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;
+An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
+Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
+A man in hue, all 'hues' in his controlling,
+Much steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
+And for a woman wert thou first created;
+Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
+And by addition me of thee defeated,
+By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
+  But since she prick'd thee out for women's pleasure,
+  Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
+
+XXI.
+
+So is it not with me as with that Muse
+Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,
+Who heaven itself for ornament doth use
+And every fair with his fair doth rehearse
+Making a couplement of proud compare,
+With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,
+With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare
+That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.
+O' let me, true in love, but truly write,
+And then believe me, my love is as fair
+As any mother's child, though not so bright
+As those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air:
+  Let them say more than like of hearsay well;
+  I will not praise that purpose not to sell.
+
+XXII.
+
+My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
+So long as youth and thou are of one date;
+But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
+Then look I death my days should expiate.
+For all that beauty that doth cover thee
+Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
+Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:
+How can I then be elder than thou art?
+O, therefore, love, be of thyself so wary
+As I, not for myself, but for thee will;
+Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
+As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
+  Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain;
+  Thou gavest me thine, not to give back again.
+
+XXIII.
+
+As an unperfect actor on the stage
+Who with his fear is put besides his part,
+Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
+Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart.
+So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
+The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
+And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,
+O'ercharged with burden of mine own love's might.
+O, let my books be then the eloquence
+And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
+Who plead for love and look for recompense
+More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.
+  O, learn to read what silent love hath writ:
+  To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.
+
+XXIV.
+
+Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd
+Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
+My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
+And perspective it is the painter's art.
+For through the painter must you see his skill,
+To find where your true image pictured lies;
+Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
+That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.
+Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
+Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
+Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
+Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
+  Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art;
+  They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
+
+XXV.
+
+Let those who are in favour with their stars
+Of public honour and proud titles boast,
+Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,
+Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most.
+Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread
+But as the marigold at the sun's eye,
+And in themselves their pride lies buried,
+For at a frown they in their glory die.
+The painful warrior famoused for fight,
+After a thousand victories once foil'd,
+Is from the book of honour razed quite,
+And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd:
+  Then happy I, that love and am beloved
+  Where I may not remove nor be removed.
+
+XXVI.
+
+Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
+Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit,
+To thee I send this written embassage,
+To witness duty, not to show my wit:
+Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine
+May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it,
+But that I hope some good conceit of thine
+In thy soul's thought, all naked, will bestow it;
+Till whatsoever star that guides my moving
+Points on me graciously with fair aspect
+And puts apparel on my tatter'd loving,
+To show me worthy of thy sweet respect:
+  Then may I dare to boast how I do love thee;
+  Till then not show my head where thou mayst prove me.
+
+XXVII.
+
+Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
+The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
+But then begins a journey in my head,
+To work my mind, when body's work's expired:
+For then my thoughts, from far where I abide,
+Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
+And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
+Looking on darkness which the blind do see
+Save that my soul's imaginary sight
+Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
+Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
+Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
+  Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
+  For thee and for myself no quiet find.
+
+XXVIII.
+
+How can I then return in happy plight,
+That am debarr'd the benefit of rest?
+When day's oppression is not eased by night,
+But day by night, and night by day, oppress'd?
+And each, though enemies to either's reign,
+Do in consent shake hands to torture me;
+The one by toil, the other to complain
+How far I toil, still farther off from thee.
+I tell the day, to please them thou art bright
+And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:
+So flatter I the swart-complexion'd night,
+When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even.
+But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer
+  And night doth nightly make grief's strength
+  	seem stronger.
+
+XXIX.
+
+When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
+I all alone beweep my outcast state
+And trouble deal heaven with my bootless cries
+And look upon myself and curse my fate,
+Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
+Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
+Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
+With what I most enjoy contented least;
+Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
+Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
+Like to the lark at break of day arising
+From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
+  For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
+  That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
+
+XXX.
+
+When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
+I summon up remembrance of things past,
+I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
+And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
+Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
+For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
+And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
+And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:
+Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
+And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
+The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
+Which I new pay as if not paid before.
+  But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
+  All losses are restored and sorrows end.
+
+XXXI.
+
+Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts,
+Which I by lacking have supposed dead,
+And there reigns love and all love's loving parts,
+And all those friends which I thought buried.
+How many a holy and obsequious tear
+Hath dear religious love stol'n from mine eye
+As interest of the dead, which now appear
+But things removed that hidden in thee lie!
+Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,
+Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,
+Who all their parts of me to thee did give;
+That due of many now is thine alone:
+  Their images I loved I view in thee,
+  And thou, all they, hast all the all of me.
+
+XXXII.
+
+If thou survive my well-contented day,
+When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover,
+And shalt by fortune once more re-survey
+These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover,
+Compare them with the bettering of the time,
+And though they be outstripp'd by every pen,
+Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme,
+Exceeded by the height of happier men.
+O, then vouchsafe me but this loving thought:
+'Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age,
+A dearer birth than this his love had brought,
+To march in ranks of better equipage:
+  But since he died and poets better prove,
+  Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love.'
+
+XXXIII.
+
+Full many a glorious morning have I seen
+Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,
+Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
+Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
+Anon permit the basest clouds to ride
+With ugly rack on his celestial face,
+And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
+Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:
+Even so my sun one early morn did shine
+With all triumphant splendor on my brow;
+But out, alack! he was but one hour mine;
+The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.
+  Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth;
+  Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.
+
+XXXIV.
+
+Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
+And make me travel forth without my cloak,
+To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way,
+Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke?
+'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
+To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
+For no man well of such a salve can speak
+That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace:
+Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief;
+Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss:
+The offender's sorrow lends but weak relief
+To him that bears the strong offence's cross.
+  Ah! but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,
+  And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.
+
+XXXV.
+
+No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
+Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
+Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
+And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
+All men make faults, and even I in this,
+Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
+Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,
+Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;
+For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense--
+Thy adverse party is thy advocate--
+And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence:
+Such civil war is in my love and hate
+  That I an accessary needs must be
+  To that sweet thief which sourly robs from me.
+
+XXXVI.
+
+Let me confess that we two must be twain,
+Although our undivided loves are one:
+So shall those blots that do with me remain
+Without thy help by me be borne alone.
+In our two loves there is but one respect,
+Though in our lives a separable spite,
+Which though it alter not love's sole effect,
+Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love's delight.
+I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
+Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
+Nor thou with public kindness honour me,
+Unless thou take that honour from thy name:
+  But do not so; I love thee in such sort
+  As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
+
+XXXVII.
+
+As a decrepit father takes delight
+To see his active child do deeds of youth,
+So I, made lame by fortune's dearest spite,
+Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
+For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
+Or any of these all, or all, or more,
+Entitled in thy parts do crowned sit,
+I make my love engrafted to this store:
+So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised,
+Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
+That I in thy abundance am sufficed
+And by a part of all thy glory live.
+  Look, what is best, that best I wish in thee:
+  This wish I have; then ten times happy me!
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+How can my Muse want subject to invent,
+While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse
+Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
+For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
+O, give thyself the thanks, if aught in me
+Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
+For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
+When thou thyself dost give invention light?
+Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
+Than those old nine which rhymers invocate;
+And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
+Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
+  If my slight Muse do please these curious days,
+  The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
+
+XXXIX.
+
+O, how thy worth with manners may I sing,
+When thou art all the better part of me?
+What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?
+And what is 't but mine own when I praise thee?
+Even for this let us divided live,
+And our dear love lose name of single one,
+That by this separation I may give
+That due to thee which thou deservest alone.
+O absence, what a torment wouldst thou prove,
+Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave
+To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
+Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive,
+  And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
+  By praising him here who doth hence remain!
+
+XL.
+
+Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
+What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
+No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
+All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.
+Then if for my love thou my love receivest,
+I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
+But yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
+By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
+I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
+Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
+And yet, love knows, it is a greater grief
+To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury.
+  Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
+  Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.
+
+XLI.
+
+Those petty wrongs that liberty commits,
+When I am sometime absent from thy heart,
+Thy beauty and thy years full well befits,
+For still temptation follows where thou art.
+Gentle thou art and therefore to be won,
+Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed;
+And when a woman woos, what woman's son
+Will sourly leave her till she have prevailed?
+Ay me! but yet thou mightest my seat forbear,
+And chide try beauty and thy straying youth,
+Who lead thee in their riot even there
+Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth,
+  Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
+  Thine, by thy beauty being false to me.
+
+XLII.
+
+That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,
+And yet it may be said I loved her dearly;
+That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
+A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
+Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye:
+Thou dost love her, because thou knowst I love her;
+And for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
+Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her.
+If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain,
+And losing her, my friend hath found that loss;
+Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
+And both for my sake lay on me this cross:
+  But here's the joy; my friend and I are one;
+  Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone.
+
+XLIII.
+
+When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,
+For all the day they view things unrespected;
+But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
+And darkly bright are bright in dark directed.
+Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
+How would thy shadow's form form happy show
+To the clear day with thy much clearer light,
+When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!
+How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made
+By looking on thee in the living day,
+When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
+Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!
+  All days are nights to see till I see thee,
+  And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
+
+XLIV.
+
+If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
+Injurious distance should not stop my way;
+For then despite of space I would be brought,
+From limits far remote where thou dost stay.
+No matter then although my foot did stand
+Upon the farthest earth removed from thee;
+For nimble thought can jump both sea and land
+As soon as think the place where he would be.
+But ah! thought kills me that I am not thought,
+To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone,
+But that so much of earth and water wrought
+I must attend time's leisure with my moan,
+  Receiving nought by elements so slow
+  But heavy tears, badges of either's woe.
+
+XLV.
+
+The other two, slight air and purging fire,
+Are both with thee, wherever I abide;
+The first my thought, the other my desire,
+These present-absent with swift motion slide.
+For when these quicker elements are gone
+In tender embassy of love to thee,
+My life, being made of four, with two alone
+Sinks down to death, oppress'd with melancholy;
+Until life's composition be recured
+By those swift messengers return'd from thee,
+Who even but now come back again, assured
+Of thy fair health, recounting it to me:
+  This told, I joy; but then no longer glad,
+  I send them back again and straight grow sad.
+
+XLVI.
+
+Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war
+How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
+Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
+My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
+My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie--
+A closet never pierced with crystal eyes--
+But the defendant doth that plea deny
+And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
+To 'cide this title is impanneled
+A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart,
+And by their verdict is determined
+The clear eye's moiety and the dear heart's part:
+  As thus; mine eye's due is thy outward part,
+  And my heart's right thy inward love of heart.
+
+XLVII.
+
+Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
+And each doth good turns now unto the other:
+When that mine eye is famish'd for a look,
+Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,
+With my love's picture then my eye doth feast
+And to the painted banquet bids my heart;
+Another time mine eye is my heart's guest
+And in his thoughts of love doth share a part:
+So, either by thy picture or my love,
+Thyself away art resent still with me;
+For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
+And I am still with them and they with thee;
+  Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
+  Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight.
+
+XLVIII.
+
+How careful was I, when I took my way,
+Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,
+That to my use it might unused stay
+From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!
+But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
+Most worthy of comfort, now my greatest grief,
+Thou, best of dearest and mine only care,
+Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
+Thee have I not lock'd up in any chest,
+Save where thou art not, though I feel thou art,
+Within the gentle closure of my breast,
+From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part;
+  And even thence thou wilt be stol'n, I fear,
+  For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.
+
+XLIX.
+
+Against that time, if ever that time come,
+When I shall see thee frown on my defects,
+When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
+Call'd to that audit by advised respects;
+Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass
+And scarcely greet me with that sun thine eye,
+When love, converted from the thing it was,
+Shall reasons find of settled gravity,--
+Against that time do I ensconce me here
+Within the knowledge of mine own desert,
+And this my hand against myself uprear,
+To guard the lawful reasons on thy part:
+  To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws,
+  Since why to love I can allege no cause.
+
+L.
+
+How heavy do I journey on the way,
+When what I seek, my weary travel's end,
+Doth teach that ease and that repose to say
+'Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend!'
+The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
+Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
+As if by some instinct the wretch did know
+His rider loved not speed, being made from thee:
+The bloody spur cannot provoke him on
+That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide;
+Which heavily he answers with a groan,
+More sharp to me than spurring to his side;
+  For that same groan doth put this in my mind;
+  My grief lies onward and my joy behind.
+
+LI.
+
+Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
+Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
+From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
+Till I return, of posting is no need.
+O, what excuse will my poor beast then find,
+When swift extremity can seem but slow?
+Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind;
+In winged speed no motion shall I know:
+Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;
+Therefore desire of perfect'st love being made,
+Shall neigh--no dull flesh--in his fiery race;
+But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade;
+  Since from thee going he went wilful-slow,
+  Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.
+
+LII.
+
+So am I as the rich, whose blessed key
+Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
+The which he will not every hour survey,
+For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
+Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
+Since, seldom coming, in the long year set,
+Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
+Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
+So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
+Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
+To make some special instant special blest,
+By new unfolding his imprison'd pride.
+  Blessed are you, whose worthiness gives scope,
+  Being had, to triumph, being lack'd, to hope.
+
+LIII.
+
+What is your substance, whereof are you made,
+That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
+Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
+And you, but one, can every shadow lend.
+Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
+Is poorly imitated after you;
+On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,
+And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
+Speak of the spring and foison of the year;
+The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
+The other as your bounty doth appear;
+And you in every blessed shape we know.
+  In all external grace you have some part,
+  But you like none, none you, for constant heart.
+
+LIV.
+
+O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
+By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
+The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
+For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
+The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye
+As the perfumed tincture of the roses,
+Hang on such thorns and play as wantonly
+When summer's breath their masked buds discloses:
+But, for their virtue only is their show,
+They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade,
+Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so;
+Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:
+  And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
+  When that shall fade, my verse distills your truth.
+
+LV.
+
+Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
+Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
+But you shall shine more bright in these contents
+Than unswept stone besmear'd with sluttish time.
+When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
+And broils root out the work of masonry,
+Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn
+The living record of your memory.
+'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
+Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
+Even in the eyes of all posterity
+That wear this world out to the ending doom.
+  So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
+  You live in this, and dwell in lover's eyes.
+
+LVI.
+
+Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said
+Thy edge should blunter be than appetite,
+Which but to-day by feeding is allay'd,
+To-morrow sharpen'd in his former might:
+So, love, be thou; although to-day thou fill
+Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fullness,
+To-morrow see again, and do not kill
+The spirit of love with a perpetual dullness.
+Let this sad interim like the ocean be
+Which parts the shore, where two contracted new
+Come daily to the banks, that, when they see
+Return of love, more blest may be the view;
+  Else call it winter, which being full of care
+  Makes summer's welcome thrice more wish'd, more rare.
+
+LVII.
+
+Being your slave, what should I do but tend
+Upon the hours and times of your desire?
+I have no precious time at all to spend,
+Nor services to do, till you require.
+Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
+Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
+Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
+When you have bid your servant once adieu;
+Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
+Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
+But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
+Save, where you are how happy you make those.
+  So true a fool is love that in your will,
+  Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.
+
+LVIII.
+
+That god forbid that made me first your slave,
+I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
+Or at your hand the account of hours to crave,
+Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure!
+O, let me suffer, being at your beck,
+The imprison'd absence of your liberty;
+And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each cheque,
+Without accusing you of injury.
+Be where you list, your charter is so strong
+That you yourself may privilege your time
+To what you will; to you it doth belong
+Yourself to pardon of self-doing crime.
+  I am to wait, though waiting so be hell;
+  Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well.
+
+LIX.
+
+If there be nothing new, but that which is
+Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled,
+Which, labouring for invention, bear amiss
+The second burden of a former child!
+O, that record could with a backward look,
+Even of five hundred courses of the sun,
+Show me your image in some antique book,
+Since mind at first in character was done!
+That I might see what the old world could say
+To this composed wonder of your frame;
+Whether we are mended, or whether better they,
+Or whether revolution be the same.
+  O, sure I am, the wits of former days
+  To subjects worse have given admiring praise.
+
+LX.
+
+Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
+So do our minutes hasten to their end;
+Each changing place with that which goes before,
+In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
+Nativity, once in the main of light,
+Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd,
+Crooked elipses 'gainst his glory fight,
+And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
+Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
+And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
+Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
+And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
+  And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
+  Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
+
+LXI.
+
+Is it thy will thy image should keep open
+My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
+Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,
+While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
+Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee
+So far from home into my deeds to pry,
+To find out shames and idle hours in me,
+The scope and tenor of thy jealousy?
+O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great:
+It is my love that keeps mine eye awake;
+Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
+To play the watchman ever for thy sake:
+  For thee watch I whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
+  From me far off, with others all too near.
+
+LXII.
+
+Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye
+And all my soul and all my every part;
+And for this sin there is no remedy,
+It is so grounded inward in my heart.
+Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
+No shape so true, no truth of such account;
+And for myself mine own worth do define,
+As I all other in all worths surmount.
+But when my glass shows me myself indeed,
+Beated and chopp'd with tann'd antiquity,
+Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;
+Self so self-loving were iniquity.
+  'Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise,
+  Painting my age with beauty of thy days.
+
+LXIII.
+
+Against my love shall be, as I am now,
+With Time's injurious hand crush'd and o'er-worn;
+When hours have drain'd his blood and fill'd his brow
+With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn
+Hath travell'd on to age's steepy night,
+And all those beauties whereof now he's king
+Are vanishing or vanish'd out of sight,
+Stealing away the treasure of his spring;
+For such a time do I now fortify
+Against confounding age's cruel knife,
+That he shall never cut from memory
+My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life:
+  His beauty shall in these black lines be seen,
+  And they shall live, and he in them still green.
+
+LXIV.
+
+When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
+The rich proud cost of outworn buried age;
+When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed
+And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;
+When I have seen the hungry ocean gain
+Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
+And the firm soil win of the watery main,
+Increasing store with loss and loss with store;
+When I have seen such interchange of state,
+Or state itself confounded to decay;
+Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate,
+That Time will come and take my love away.
+  This thought is as a death, which cannot choose
+  But weep to have that which it fears to lose.
+
+LXV.
+
+Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
+But sad mortality o'er-sways their power,
+How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
+Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
+O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out
+Against the wreckful siege of battering days,
+When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
+Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
+O fearful meditation! where, alack,
+Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
+Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
+Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
+  O, none, unless this miracle have might,
+  That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
+
+LXVI.
+
+Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
+As, to behold desert a beggar born,
+And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
+And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
+And guilded honour shamefully misplaced,
+And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
+And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
+And strength by limping sway disabled,
+And art made tongue-tied by authority,
+And folly doctor-like controlling skill,
+And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
+And captive good attending captain ill:
+  Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
+  Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.
+
+LXVII.
+
+Ah! wherefore with infection should he live,
+And with his presence grace impiety,
+That sin by him advantage should achieve
+And lace itself with his society?
+Why should false painting imitate his cheek
+And steal dead seeing of his living hue?
+Why should poor beauty indirectly seek
+Roses of shadow, since his rose is true?
+Why should he live, now Nature bankrupt is,
+Beggar'd of blood to blush through lively veins?
+For she hath no exchequer now but his,
+And, proud of many, lives upon his gains.
+  O, him she stores, to show what wealth she had
+  In days long since, before these last so bad.
+
+LXVIII.
+
+Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,
+When beauty lived and died as flowers do now,
+Before the bastard signs of fair were born,
+Or durst inhabit on a living brow;
+Before the golden tresses of the dead,
+The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,
+To live a second life on second head;
+Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay:
+In him those holy antique hours are seen,
+Without all ornament, itself and true,
+Making no summer of another's green,
+Robbing no old to dress his beauty new;
+  And him as for a map doth Nature store,
+  To show false Art what beauty was of yore.
+
+LXIX.
+
+Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view
+Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend;
+All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due,
+Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend.
+Thy outward thus with outward praise is crown'd;
+But those same tongues that give thee so thine own
+In other accents do this praise confound
+By seeing farther than the eye hath shown.
+They look into the beauty of thy mind,
+And that, in guess, they measure by thy deeds;
+Then, churls, their thoughts, although their eyes were kind,
+To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds:
+  But why thy odour matcheth not thy show,
+  The solve is this, that thou dost common grow.
+
+LXX.
+
+That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
+For slander's mark was ever yet the fair;
+The ornament of beauty is suspect,
+A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air.
+So thou be good, slander doth but approve
+Thy worth the greater, being woo'd of time;
+For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
+And thou present'st a pure unstained prime.
+Thou hast pass'd by the ambush of young days,
+Either not assail'd or victor being charged;
+Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise,
+To tie up envy evermore enlarged:
+  If some suspect of ill mask'd not thy show,
+  Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.
+
+LXXI.
+
+No longer mourn for me when I am dead
+Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell
+Give warning to the world that I am fled
+From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:
+Nay, if you read this line, remember not
+The hand that writ it; for I love you so
+That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot
+If thinking on me then should make you woe.
+O, if, I say, you look upon this verse
+When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
+Do not so much as my poor name rehearse.
+But let your love even with my life decay,
+  Lest the wise world should look into your moan
+  And mock you with me after I am gone.
+
+LXXII.
+
+O, lest the world should task you to recite
+What merit lived in me, that you should love
+After my death, dear love, forget me quite,
+For you in me can nothing worthy prove;
+Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,
+To do more for me than mine own desert,
+And hang more praise upon deceased I
+Than niggard truth would willingly impart:
+O, lest your true love may seem false in this,
+That you for love speak well of me untrue,
+My name be buried where my body is,
+And live no more to shame nor me nor you.
+  For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,
+  And so should you, to love things nothing worth.
+
+LXXIII.
+
+That time of year thou mayst in me behold
+When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
+Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
+Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
+In me thou seest the twilight of such day
+As after sunset fadeth in the west,
+Which by and by black night doth take away,
+Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
+In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
+That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
+As the death-bed whereon it must expire
+Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.
+  This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
+  To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
+
+LXXIV.
+
+But be contented: when that fell arrest
+Without all bail shall carry me away,
+My life hath in this line some interest,
+Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
+When thou reviewest this, thou dost review
+The very part was consecrate to thee:
+The earth can have but earth, which is his due;
+My spirit is thine, the better part of me:
+So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,
+The prey of worms, my body being dead,
+The coward conquest of a wretch's knife,
+Too base of thee to be remembered.
+  The worth of that is that which it contains,
+  And that is this, and this with thee remains.
+
+LXXV.
+
+So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
+Or as sweet-season'd showers are to the ground;
+And for the peace of you I hold such strife
+As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found;
+Now proud as an enjoyer and anon
+Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure,
+Now counting best to be with you alone,
+Then better'd that the world may see my pleasure;
+Sometime all full with feasting on your sight
+And by and by clean starved for a look;
+Possessing or pursuing no delight,
+Save what is had or must from you be took.
+  Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,
+  Or gluttoning on all, or all away.
+
+LXXVI.
+
+Why is my verse so barren of new pride,
+So far from variation or quick change?
+Why with the time do I not glance aside
+To new-found methods and to compounds strange?
+Why write I still all one, ever the same,
+And keep invention in a noted weed,
+That every word doth almost tell my name,
+Showing their birth and where they did proceed?
+O, know, sweet love, I always write of you,
+And you and love are still my argument;
+So all my best is dressing old words new,
+Spending again what is already spent:
+  For as the sun is daily new and old,
+  So is my love still telling what is told.
+
+LXXVII.
+
+Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
+Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
+The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
+And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.
+The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
+Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
+Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
+Time's thievish progress to eternity.
+Look, what thy memory can not contain
+Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
+Those children nursed, deliver'd from thy brain,
+To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.
+  These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
+  Shall profit thee and much enrich thy book.
+
+LXXVIII.
+
+So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse
+And found such fair assistance in my verse
+As every alien pen hath got my use
+And under thee their poesy disperse.
+Thine eyes that taught the dumb on high to sing
+And heavy ignorance aloft to fly
+Have added feathers to the learned's wing
+And given grace a double majesty.
+Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
+Whose influence is thine and born of thee:
+In others' works thou dost but mend the style,
+And arts with thy sweet graces graced be;
+  But thou art all my art and dost advance
+  As high as learning my rude ignorance.
+
+LXXIX.
+
+Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid,
+My verse alone had all thy gentle grace,
+But now my gracious numbers are decay'd
+And my sick Muse doth give another place.
+I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument
+Deserves the travail of a worthier pen,
+Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent
+He robs thee of and pays it thee again.
+He lends thee virtue and he stole that word
+From thy behavior; beauty doth he give
+And found it in thy cheek; he can afford
+No praise to thee but what in thee doth live.
+  Then thank him not for that which he doth say,
+  Since what he owes thee thou thyself dost pay.
+
+LXXX.
+
+O, how I faint when I of you do write,
+Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,
+And in the praise thereof spends all his might,
+To make me tongue-tied, speaking of your fame!
+But since your worth, wide as the ocean is,
+The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,
+My saucy bark inferior far to his
+On your broad main doth wilfully appear.
+Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,
+Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride;
+Or being wreck'd, I am a worthless boat,
+He of tall building and of goodly pride:
+  Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
+  The worst was this; my love was my decay.
+
+LXXXI.
+
+Or I shall live your epitaph to make,
+Or you survive when I in earth am rotten;
+From hence your memory death cannot take,
+Although in me each part will be forgotten.
+Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
+Though I, once gone, to all the world must die:
+The earth can yield me but a common grave,
+When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie.
+Your monument shall be my gentle verse,
+Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read,
+And tongues to be your being shall rehearse
+When all the breathers of this world are dead;
+  You still shall live--such virtue hath my pen--
+  Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
+
+LXXXII.
+
+I grant thou wert not married to my Muse
+And therefore mayst without attaint o'erlook
+The dedicated words which writers use
+Of their fair subject, blessing every book
+Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue,
+Finding thy worth a limit past my praise,
+And therefore art enforced to seek anew
+Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days
+And do so, love; yet when they have devised
+What strained touches rhetoric can lend,
+Thou truly fair wert truly sympathized
+In true plain words by thy true-telling friend;
+  And their gross painting might be better used
+  Where cheeks need blood; in thee it is abused.
+
+LXXXIII.
+
+I never saw that you did painting need
+And therefore to your fair no painting set;
+I found, or thought I found, you did exceed
+The barren tender of a poet's debt;
+And therefore have I slept in your report,
+That you yourself being extant well might show
+How far a modern quill doth come too short,
+Speaking of worth, what worth in you doth grow.
+This silence for my sin you did impute,
+Which shall be most my glory, being dumb;
+For I impair not beauty being mute,
+When others would give life and bring a tomb.
+  There lives more life in one of your fair eyes
+  Than both your poets can in praise devise.
+
+LXXXIV.
+
+Who is it that says most? which can say more
+Than this rich praise, that you alone are you?
+In whose confine immured is the store
+Which should example where your equal grew.
+Lean penury within that pen doth dwell
+That to his subject lends not some small glory;
+But he that writes of you, if he can tell
+That you are you, so dignifies his story,
+Let him but copy what in you is writ,
+Not making worse what nature made so clear,
+And such a counterpart shall fame his wit,
+Making his style admired every where.
+  You to your beauteous blessings add a curse,
+  Being fond on praise, which makes your praises worse.
+
+LXXXV.
+
+My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still,
+While comments of your praise, richly compiled,
+Reserve their character with golden quill
+And precious phrase by all the Muses filed.
+I think good thoughts whilst other write good words,
+And like unletter'd clerk still cry 'Amen'
+To every hymn that able spirit affords
+In polish'd form of well-refined pen.
+Hearing you praised, I say ''Tis so, 'tis true,'
+And to the most of praise add something more;
+But that is in my thought, whose love to you,
+Though words come hindmost, holds his rank before.
+  Then others for the breath of words respect,
+  Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.
+
+LXXXVI.
+
+Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,
+Bound for the prize of all too precious you,
+That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
+Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?
+Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write
+Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
+No, neither he, nor his compeers by night
+Giving him aid, my verse astonished.
+He, nor that affable familiar ghost
+Which nightly gulls him with intelligence
+As victors of my silence cannot boast;
+I was not sick of any fear from thence:
+  But when your countenance fill'd up his line,
+  Then lack'd I matter; that enfeebled mine.
+
+LXXXVII.
+
+Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing,
+And like enough thou know'st thy estimate:
+The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
+My bonds in thee are all determinate.
+For how do I hold thee but by thy granting?
+And for that riches where is my deserving?
+The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
+And so my patent back again is swerving.
+Thyself thou gavest, thy own worth then not knowing,
+Or me, to whom thou gavest it, else mistaking;
+So thy great gift, upon misprision growing,
+Comes home again, on better judgment making.
+  Thus have I had thee, as a dream doth flatter,
+  In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.
+
+LXXXVIII.
+
+When thou shalt be disposed to set me light,
+And place my merit in the eye of scorn,
+Upon thy side against myself I'll fight,
+And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn.
+With mine own weakness being best acquainted,
+Upon thy part I can set down a story
+Of faults conceal'd, wherein I am attainted,
+That thou in losing me shalt win much glory:
+And I by this will be a gainer too;
+For bending all my loving thoughts on thee,
+The injuries that to myself I do,
+Doing thee vantage, double-vantage me.
+  Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
+  That for thy right myself will bear all wrong.
+
+LXXXIX.
+
+Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,
+And I will comment upon that offence;
+Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt,
+Against thy reasons making no defence.
+Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill,
+To set a form upon desired change,
+As I'll myself disgrace: knowing thy will,
+I will acquaintance strangle and look strange,
+Be absent from thy walks, and in my tongue
+Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,
+Lest I, too much profane, should do it wrong
+And haply of our old acquaintance tell.
+  For thee against myself I'll vow debate,
+  For I must ne'er love him whom thou dost hate.
+
+XC.
+
+Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
+Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
+Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
+And do not drop in for an after-loss:
+Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'scoped this sorrow,
+Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe;
+Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
+To linger out a purposed overthrow.
+If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
+When other petty griefs have done their spite
+But in the onset come; so shall I taste
+At first the very worst of fortune's might,
+  And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
+  Compared with loss of thee will not seem so.
+
+XCI.
+
+Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
+Some in their wealth, some in their bodies' force,
+Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill,
+Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;
+And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
+Wherein it finds a joy above the rest:
+But these particulars are not my measure;
+All these I better in one general best.
+Thy love is better than high birth to me,
+Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,
+Of more delight than hawks or horses be;
+And having thee, of all men's pride I boast:
+  Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take
+  All this away and me most wretched make.
+
+XCII.
+
+But do thy worst to steal thyself away,
+For term of life thou art assured mine,
+And life no longer than thy love will stay,
+For it depends upon that love of thine.
+Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
+When in the least of them my life hath end.
+I see a better state to me belongs
+Than that which on thy humour doth depend;
+Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
+Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie.
+O, what a happy title do I find,
+Happy to have thy love, happy to die!
+  But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot?
+  Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.
+
+XCIII.
+
+So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
+Like a deceived husband; so love's face
+May still seem love to me, though alter'd new;
+Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place:
+For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
+Therefore in that I cannot know thy change.
+In many's looks the false heart's history
+Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange,
+But heaven in thy creation did decree
+That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell;
+Whate'er thy thoughts or thy heart's workings be,
+Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness tell.
+  How like Eve's apple doth thy beauty grow,
+  if thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!
+
+XCIV.
+
+They that have power to hurt and will do none,
+That do not do the thing they most do show,
+Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
+Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow,
+They rightly do inherit heaven's graces
+And husband nature's riches from expense;
+They are the lords and owners of their faces,
+Others but stewards of their excellence.
+The summer's flower is to the summer sweet,
+Though to itself it only live and die,
+But if that flower with base infection meet,
+The basest weed outbraves his dignity:
+  For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
+  Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
+
+XCV.
+
+How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
+Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose,
+Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
+O, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose!
+That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
+Making lascivious comments on thy sport,
+Cannot dispraise but in a kind of praise;
+Naming thy name blesses an ill report.
+O, what a mansion have those vices got
+Which for their habitation chose out thee,
+Where beauty's veil doth cover every blot,
+And all things turn to fair that eyes can see!
+  Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege;
+  The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.
+
+XCVI.
+
+Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness;
+Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport;
+Both grace and faults are loved of more and less;
+Thou makest faults graces that to thee resort.
+As on the finger of a throned queen
+The basest jewel will be well esteem'd,
+So are those errors that in thee are seen
+To truths translated and for true things deem'd.
+How many lambs might the stem wolf betray,
+If like a lamb he could his looks translate!
+How many gazers mightst thou lead away,
+If thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state!
+  But do not so; I love thee in such sort
+  As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
+
+XCVII.
+
+How like a winter hath my absence been
+From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
+What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
+What old December's bareness every where!
+And yet this time removed was summer's time,
+The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
+Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,
+Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease:
+Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me
+But hope of orphans and unfather'd fruit;
+For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
+And, thou away, the very birds are mute;
+  Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer
+  That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.
+
+XCVIII.
+
+From you have I been absent in the spring,
+When proud-pied April dress'd in all his trim
+Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,
+That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him.
+Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell
+Of different flowers in odour and in hue
+Could make me any summer's story tell,
+Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew;
+Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,
+Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
+They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
+Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
+  Yet seem'd it winter still, and, you away,
+  As with your shadow I with these did play:
+
+XCIX.
+
+The forward violet thus did I chide:
+Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
+If not from my love's breath? The purple pride
+Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells
+In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed.
+The lily I condemned for thy hand,
+And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair:
+The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
+One blushing shame, another white despair;
+A third, nor red nor white, had stol'n of both
+And to his robbery had annex'd thy breath;
+But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth
+A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
+  More flowers I noted, yet I none could see
+  But sweet or colour it had stol'n from thee.
+
+C.
+
+Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long
+To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
+Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
+Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
+Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem
+In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
+Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem
+And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
+Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey,
+If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
+If any, be a satire to decay,
+And make Time's spoils despised every where.
+  Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life;
+  So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife.
+
+CI.
+
+O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
+For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
+Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
+So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
+Make answer, Muse: wilt thou not haply say
+'Truth needs no colour, with his colour fix'd;
+Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;
+But best is best, if never intermix'd?'
+Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
+Excuse not silence so; for't lies in thee
+To make him much outlive a gilded tomb,
+And to be praised of ages yet to be.
+  Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
+  To make him seem long hence as he shows now.
+
+CII.
+
+My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming;
+I love not less, though less the show appear:
+That love is merchandized whose rich esteeming
+The owner's tongue doth publish every where.
+Our love was new and then but in the spring
+When I was wont to greet it with my lays,
+As Philomel in summer's front doth sing
+And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:
+Not that the summer is less pleasant now
+Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
+But that wild music burthens every bough
+And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
+  Therefore like her I sometime hold my tongue,
+  Because I would not dull you with my song.
+
+CIII.
+
+Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth,
+That having such a scope to show her pride,
+The argument all bare is of more worth
+Than when it hath my added praise beside!
+O, blame me not, if I no more can write!
+Look in your glass, and there appears a face
+That over-goes my blunt invention quite,
+Dulling my lines and doing me disgrace.
+Were it not sinful then, striving to mend,
+To mar the subject that before was well?
+For to no other pass my verses tend
+Than of your graces and your gifts to tell;
+  And more, much more, than in my verse can sit
+  Your own glass shows you when you look in it.
+
+CIV.
+
+To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
+For as you were when first your eye I eyed,
+Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold
+Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,
+Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd
+In process of the seasons have I seen,
+Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,
+Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.
+Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,
+Steal from his figure and no pace perceived;
+So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,
+Hath motion and mine eye may be deceived:
+  For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred;
+  Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.
+
+CV.
+
+Let not my love be call'd idolatry,
+Nor my beloved as an idol show,
+Since all alike my songs and praises be
+To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
+Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
+Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
+Therefore my verse to constancy confined,
+One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
+'Fair, kind and true' is all my argument,
+'Fair, kind, and true' varying to other words;
+And in this change is my invention spent,
+Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
+  'Fair, kind, and true,' have often lived alone,
+  Which three till now never kept seat in one.
+
+CVI.
+
+When in the chronicle of wasted time
+I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
+And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
+In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
+Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,
+Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
+I see their antique pen would have express'd
+Even such a beauty as you master now.
+So all their praises are but prophecies
+Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
+And, for they look'd but with divining eyes,
+They had not skill enough your worth to sing:
+  For we, which now behold these present days,
+  Had eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
+
+CVII.
+
+Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
+Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,
+Can yet the lease of my true love control,
+Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
+The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured
+And the sad augurs mock their own presage;
+Incertainties now crown themselves assured
+And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
+Now with the drops of this most balmy time
+My love looks fresh, and death to me subscribes,
+Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme,
+While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes:
+  And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
+  When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.
+
+CVIII.
+
+What's in the brain that ink may character
+Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit?
+What's new to speak, what new to register,
+That may express my love or thy dear merit?
+Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine,
+I must, each day say o'er the very same,
+Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
+Even as when first I hallow'd thy fair name.
+So that eternal love in love's fresh case
+Weighs not the dust and injury of age,
+Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
+But makes antiquity for aye his page,
+  Finding the first conceit of love there bred
+  Where time and outward form would show it dead.
+
+CIX.
+
+O, never say that I was false of heart,
+Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify.
+As easy might I from myself depart
+As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie:
+That is my home of love: if I have ranged,
+Like him that travels I return again,
+Just to the time, not with the time exchanged,
+So that myself bring water for my stain.
+Never believe, though in my nature reign'd
+All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood,
+That it could so preposterously be stain'd,
+To leave for nothing all thy sum of good;
+  For nothing this wide universe I call,
+  Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all.
+
+CX.
+
+Alas, 'tis true I have gone here and there
+And made myself a motley to the view,
+Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,
+Made old offences of affections new;
+Most true it is that I have look'd on truth
+Askance and strangely: but, by all above,
+These blenches gave my heart another youth,
+And worse essays proved thee my best of love.
+Now all is done, have what shall have no end:
+Mine appetite I never more will grind
+On newer proof, to try an older friend,
+A god in love, to whom I am confined.
+  Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,
+  Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.
+
+CXI.
+
+O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide,
+The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,
+That did not better for my life provide
+Than public means which public manners breeds.
+Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
+And almost thence my nature is subdued
+To what it works in, like the dyer's hand:
+Pity me then and wish I were renew'd;
+Whilst, like a willing patient, I will drink
+Potions of eisel 'gainst my strong infection
+No bitterness that I will bitter think,
+Nor double penance, to correct correction.
+  Pity me then, dear friend, and I assure ye
+  Even that your pity is enough to cure me.
+
+CXII.
+
+Your love and pity doth the impression fill
+Which vulgar scandal stamp'd upon my brow;
+For what care I who calls me well or ill,
+So you o'er-green my bad, my good allow?
+You are my all the world, and I must strive
+To know my shames and praises from your tongue:
+None else to me, nor I to none alive,
+That my steel'd sense or changes right or wrong.
+In so profound abysm I throw all care
+Of others' voices, that my adder's sense
+To critic and to flatterer stopped are.
+Mark how with my neglect I do dispense:
+  You are so strongly in my purpose bred
+  That all the world besides methinks are dead.
+
+CXIII.
+
+Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind;
+And that which governs me to go about
+Doth part his function and is partly blind,
+Seems seeing, but effectually is out;
+For it no form delivers to the heart
+Of bird of flower, or shape, which it doth latch:
+Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
+Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch:
+For if it see the rudest or gentlest sight,
+The most sweet favour or deformed'st creature,
+The mountain or the sea, the day or night,
+The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature:
+  Incapable of more, replete with you,
+  My most true mind thus makes mine eye untrue.
+
+CXIV.
+
+Or whether doth my mind, being crown'd with you,
+Drink up the monarch's plague, this flattery?
+Or whether shall I say, mine eye saith true,
+And that your love taught it this alchemy,
+To make of monsters and things indigest
+Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,
+Creating every bad a perfect best,
+As fast as objects to his beams assemble?
+O,'tis the first; 'tis flattery in my seeing,
+And my great mind most kingly drinks it up:
+Mine eye well knows what with his gust is 'greeing,
+And to his palate doth prepare the cup:
+  If it be poison'd, 'tis the lesser sin
+  That mine eye loves it and doth first begin.
+
+CXV.
+
+Those lines that I before have writ do lie,
+Even those that said I could not love you dearer:
+Yet then my judgment knew no reason why
+My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer.
+But reckoning time, whose million'd accidents
+Creep in 'twixt vows and change decrees of kings,
+Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp'st intents,
+Divert strong minds to the course of altering things;
+Alas, why, fearing of time's tyranny,
+Might I not then say 'Now I love you best,'
+When I was certain o'er incertainty,
+Crowning the present, doubting of the rest?
+  Love is a babe; then might I not say so,
+  To give full growth to that which still doth grow?
+
+CXVI.
+
+Let me not to the marriage of true minds
+Admit impediments. Love is not love
+Which alters when it alteration finds,
+Or bends with the remover to remove:
+O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
+That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
+It is the star to every wandering bark,
+Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
+Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
+Within his bending sickle's compass come:
+Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
+But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
+  If this be error and upon me proved,
+  I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
+
+CXVII.
+
+Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all
+Wherein I should your great deserts repay,
+Forgot upon your dearest love to call,
+Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day;
+That I have frequent been with unknown minds
+And given to time your own dear-purchased right
+That I have hoisted sail to all the winds
+Which should transport me farthest from your sight.
+Book both my wilfulness and errors down
+And on just proof surmise accumulate;
+Bring me within the level of your frown,
+But shoot not at me in your waken'd hate;
+  Since my appeal says I did strive to prove
+  The constancy and virtue of your love.
+
+CXVIII.
+
+Like as, to make our appetites more keen,
+With eager compounds we our palate urge,
+As, to prevent our maladies unseen,
+We sicken to shun sickness when we purge,
+Even so, being tuff of your ne'er-cloying sweetness,
+To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding
+And, sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness
+To be diseased ere that there was true needing.
+Thus policy in love, to anticipate
+The ills that were not, grew to faults assured
+And brought to medicine a healthful state
+Which, rank of goodness, would by ill be cured:
+  But thence I learn, and find the lesson true,
+  Drugs poison him that so fell sick of you.
+
+CXIX.
+
+What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,
+Distill'd from limbecks foul as hell within,
+Applying fears to hopes and hopes to fears,
+Still losing when I saw myself to win!
+What wretched errors hath my heart committed,
+Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never!
+How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted
+In the distraction of this madding fever!
+O benefit of ill! now I find true
+That better is by evil still made better;
+And ruin'd love, when it is built anew,
+Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.
+  So I return rebuked to my content
+  And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent.
+
+CXX.
+
+That you were once unkind befriends me now,
+And for that sorrow which I then did feel
+Needs must I under my transgression bow,
+Unless my nerves were brass or hammer'd steel.
+For if you were by my unkindness shaken
+As I by yours, you've pass'd a hell of time,
+And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken
+To weigh how once I suffered in your crime.
+O, that our night of woe might have remember'd
+My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits,
+And soon to you, as you to me, then tender'd
+The humble slave which wounded bosoms fits!
+  But that your trespass now becomes a fee;
+  Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me.
+
+CXXI.
+
+'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd,
+When not to be receives reproach of being,
+And the just pleasure lost which is so deem'd
+Not by our feeling but by others' seeing:
+For why should others false adulterate eyes
+Give salutation to my sportive blood?
+Or on my frailties why are frailer spies,
+Which in their wills count bad what I think good?
+No, I am that I am, and they that level
+At my abuses reckon up their own:
+I may be straight, though they themselves be bevel;
+By their rank thoughts my deeds must not be shown;
+  Unless this general evil they maintain,
+  All men are bad, and in their badness reign.
+
+CXXII.
+
+Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain
+Full character'd with lasting memory,
+Which shall above that idle rank remain
+Beyond all date, even to eternity;
+Or at the least, so long as brain and heart
+Have faculty by nature to subsist;
+Till each to razed oblivion yield his part
+Of thee, thy record never can be miss'd.
+That poor retention could not so much hold,
+Nor need I tallies thy dear love to score;
+Therefore to give them from me was I bold,
+To trust those tables that receive thee more:
+  To keep an adjunct to remember thee
+  Were to import forgetfulness in me.
+
+CXXIII.
+
+No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change:
+Thy pyramids built up with newer might
+To me are nothing novel, nothing strange;
+They are but dressings of a former sight.
+Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire
+What thou dost foist upon us that is old,
+And rather make them born to our desire
+Than think that we before have heard them told.
+Thy registers and thee I both defy,
+Not wondering at the present nor the past,
+For thy records and what we see doth lie,
+Made more or less by thy continual haste.
+  This I do vow and this shall ever be;
+  I will be true, despite thy scythe and thee.
+
+CXXIV.
+
+If my dear love were but the child of state,
+It might for Fortune's bastard be unfather'd'
+As subject to Time's love or to Time's hate,
+Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gather'd.
+No, it was builded far from accident;
+It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls
+Under the blow of thralled discontent,
+Whereto the inviting time our fashion calls:
+It fears not policy, that heretic,
+Which works on leases of short-number'd hours,
+But all alone stands hugely politic,
+That it nor grows with heat nor drowns with showers.
+  To this I witness call the fools of time,
+  Which die for goodness, who have lived for crime.
+
+CXXV.
+
+Were 't aught to me I bore the canopy,
+With my extern the outward honouring,
+Or laid great bases for eternity,
+Which prove more short than waste or ruining?
+Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour
+Lose all, and more, by paying too much rent,
+For compound sweet forgoing simple savour,
+Pitiful thrivers, in their gazing spent?
+No, let me be obsequious in thy heart,
+And take thou my oblation, poor but free,
+Which is not mix'd with seconds, knows no art,
+But mutual render, only me for thee.
+  Hence, thou suborn'd informer! a true soul
+  When most impeach'd stands least in thy control.
+
+CXXVI.
+
+O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power
+Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle, hour;
+Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'st
+Thy lovers withering as thy sweet self grow'st;
+If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack,
+As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back,
+She keeps thee to this purpose, that her skill
+May time disgrace and wretched minutes kill.
+Yet fear her, O thou minion of her pleasure!
+She may detain, but not still keep, her treasure:
+  Her audit, though delay'd, answer'd must be,
+  And her quietus is to render thee.
+
+CXXVII.
+
+In the old age black was not counted fair,
+Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;
+But now is black beauty's successive heir,
+And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame:
+For since each hand hath put on nature's power,
+Fairing the foul with art's false borrow'd face,
+Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,
+But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.
+Therefore my mistress' brows are raven black,
+Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem
+At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,
+Slandering creation with a false esteem:
+  Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe,
+  That every tongue says beauty should look so.
+
+CXXVIII.
+
+How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st,
+Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
+With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway'st
+The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,
+Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap
+To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,
+Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,
+At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand!
+To be so tickled, they would change their state
+And situation with those dancing chips,
+O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,
+Making dead wood more blest than living lips.
+  Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,
+  Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.
+
+CXXIX.
+
+The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
+Is lust in action; and till action, lust
+Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
+Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
+Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight,
+Past reason hunted, and no sooner had
+Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait
+On purpose laid to make the taker mad;
+Mad in pursuit and in possession so;
+Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
+A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;
+Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.
+  All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
+  To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
+
+CXXX.
+
+My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
+Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
+If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
+If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
+I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
+But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
+And in some perfumes is there more delight
+Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
+I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
+That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
+I grant I never saw a goddess go;
+My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
+  And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
+  As any she belied with false compare.
+
+CXXXI.
+
+Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art,
+As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
+For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart
+Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
+Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold
+Thy face hath not the power to make love groan:
+To say they err I dare not be so bold,
+Although I swear it to myself alone.
+And, to be sure that is not false I swear,
+A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face,
+One on another's neck, do witness bear
+Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place.
+  In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,
+  And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds.
+
+CXXXII.
+
+Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,
+Knowing thy heart torments me with disdain,
+Have put on black and loving mourners be,
+Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
+And truly not the morning sun of heaven
+Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
+Nor that full star that ushers in the even
+Doth half that glory to the sober west,
+As those two mourning eyes become thy face:
+O, let it then as well beseem thy heart
+To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace,
+And suit thy pity like in every part.
+  Then will I swear beauty herself is black
+  And all they foul that thy complexion lack.
+
+CXXXIII.
+
+Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
+For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
+Is't not enough to torture me alone,
+But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?
+Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
+And my next self thou harder hast engross'd:
+Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken;
+A torment thrice threefold thus to be cross'd.
+Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward,
+But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail;
+Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard;
+Thou canst not then use rigor in my gaol:
+  And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
+  Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.
+
+CXXXIV.
+
+So, now I have confess'd that he is thine,
+And I myself am mortgaged to thy will,
+Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine
+Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still:
+But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,
+For thou art covetous and he is kind;
+He learn'd but surety-like to write for me
+Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.
+The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take,
+Thou usurer, that put'st forth all to use,
+And sue a friend came debtor for my sake;
+So him I lose through my unkind abuse.
+  Him have I lost; thou hast both him and me:
+  He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.
+
+CXXXV.
+
+Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy 'Will,'
+And 'Will' to boot, and 'Will' in overplus;
+More than enough am I that vex thee still,
+To thy sweet will making addition thus.
+Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,
+Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?
+Shall will in others seem right gracious,
+And in my will no fair acceptance shine?
+The sea all water, yet receives rain still
+And in abundance addeth to his store;
+So thou, being rich in 'Will,' add to thy 'Will'
+One will of mine, to make thy large 'Will' more.
+  Let no unkind, no fair beseechers kill;
+  Think all but one, and me in that one 'Will.'
+
+CXXXVI.
+
+If thy soul cheque thee that I come so near,
+Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy 'Will,'
+And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;
+Thus far for love my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.
+'Will' will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
+Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.
+In things of great receipt with ease we prove
+Among a number one is reckon'd none:
+Then in the number let me pass untold,
+Though in thy stores' account I one must be;
+For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
+That nothing me, a something sweet to thee:
+  Make but my name thy love, and love that still,
+  And then thou lovest me, for my name is 'Will.'
+
+CXXXVII.
+
+Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes,
+That they behold, and see not what they see?
+They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
+Yet what the best is take the worst to be.
+If eyes corrupt by over-partial looks
+Be anchor'd in the bay where all men ride,
+Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forged hooks,
+Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?
+Why should my heart think that a several plot
+Which my heart knows the wide world's common place?
+Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not,
+To put fair truth upon so foul a face?
+  In things right true my heart and eyes have erred,
+  And to this false plague are they now transferr'd.
+
+CXXXVIII.
+
+When my love swears that she is made of truth
+I do believe her, though I know she lies,
+That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
+Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
+Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
+Although she knows my days are past the best,
+Simply I credit her false speaking tongue:
+On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd.
+But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
+And wherefore say not I that I am old?
+O, love's best habit is in seeming trust,
+And age in love loves not to have years told:
+  Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
+  And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.
+
+CXXXIX.
+
+O, call not me to justify the wrong
+That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
+Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue;
+Use power with power and slay me not by art.
+Tell me thou lovest elsewhere, but in my sight,
+Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:
+What need'st thou wound with cunning when thy might
+Is more than my o'er-press'd defense can bide?
+Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows
+Her pretty looks have been mine enemies,
+And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
+That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:
+  Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,
+  Kill me outright with looks and rid my pain.
+
+CXL.
+
+Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press
+My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain;
+Lest sorrow lend me words and words express
+The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
+If I might teach thee wit, better it were,
+Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so;
+As testy sick men, when their deaths be near,
+No news but health from their physicians know;
+For if I should despair, I should grow mad,
+And in my madness might speak ill of thee:
+Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,
+Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be,
+  That I may not be so, nor thou belied,
+  Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go wide.
+
+CXLI.
+
+In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
+For they in thee a thousand errors note;
+But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
+Who in despite of view is pleased to dote;
+Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted,
+Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
+Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
+To any sensual feast with thee alone:
+But my five wits nor my five senses can
+Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
+Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man,
+Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch to be:
+  Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
+  That she that makes me sin awards me pain.
+
+CXLII.
+
+Love is my sin and thy dear virtue hate,
+Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving:
+O, but with mine compare thou thine own state,
+And thou shalt find it merits not reproving;
+Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine,
+That have profaned their scarlet ornaments
+And seal'd false bonds of love as oft as mine,
+Robb'd others' beds' revenues of their rents.
+Be it lawful I love thee, as thou lovest those
+Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee:
+Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows
+Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
+  If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
+  By self-example mayst thou be denied!
+
+CXLIII.
+
+Lo! as a careful housewife runs to catch
+One of her feather'd creatures broke away,
+Sets down her babe and makes an swift dispatch
+In pursuit of the thing she would have stay,
+Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase,
+Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent
+To follow that which flies before her face,
+Not prizing her poor infant's discontent;
+So runn'st thou after that which flies from thee,
+Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind;
+But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,
+And play the mother's part, kiss me, be kind:
+  So will I pray that thou mayst have thy 'Will,'
+  If thou turn back, and my loud crying still.
+
+CXLIV.
+
+Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
+Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
+The better angel is a man right fair,
+The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill.
+To win me soon to hell, my female evil
+Tempteth my better angel from my side,
+And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
+Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
+And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend
+Suspect I may, but not directly tell;
+But being both from me, both to each friend,
+I guess one angel in another's hell:
+  Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt,
+  Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
+
+CXLV.
+
+Those lips that Love's own hand did make
+Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate'
+To me that languish'd for her sake;
+But when she saw my woeful state,
+Straight in her heart did mercy come,
+Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
+Was used in giving gentle doom,
+And taught it thus anew to greet:
+'I hate' she alter'd with an end,
+That follow'd it as gentle day
+Doth follow night, who like a fiend
+From heaven to hell is flown away;
+  'I hate' from hate away she threw,
+  And saved my life, saying 'not you.'
+
+CXLVI.
+
+Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
+[         ] these rebel powers that thee array;
+Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
+Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
+Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
+Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
+Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
+Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end?
+Then soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss,
+And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
+Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
+Within be fed, without be rich no more:
+  So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
+  And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.
+
+CXLVII.
+
+My love is as a fever, longing still
+For that which longer nurseth the disease,
+Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
+The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
+My reason, the physician to my love,
+Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
+Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
+Desire is death, which physic did except.
+Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
+And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
+My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,
+At random from the truth vainly express'd;
+  For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright,
+  Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
+
+CXLVIII.
+
+O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head,
+Which have no correspondence with true sight!
+Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
+That censures falsely what they see aright?
+If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
+What means the world to say it is not so?
+If it be not, then love doth well denote
+Love's eye is not so true as all men's 'No.'
+How can it? O, how can Love's eye be true,
+That is so vex'd with watching and with tears?
+No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
+The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.
+  O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me blind,
+  Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.
+
+CXLIX.
+
+Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,
+When I against myself with thee partake?
+Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
+Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?
+Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?
+On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon?
+Nay, if thou lour'st on me, do I not spend
+Revenge upon myself with present moan?
+What merit do I in myself respect,
+That is so proud thy service to despise,
+When all my best doth worship thy defect,
+Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
+  But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;
+  Those that can see thou lovest, and I am blind.
+
+CL.
+
+O, from what power hast thou this powerful might
+With insufficiency my heart to sway?
+To make me give the lie to my true sight,
+And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?
+Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
+That in the very refuse of thy deeds
+There is such strength and warrantize of skill
+That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
+Who taught thee how to make me love thee more
+The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
+O, though I love what others do abhor,
+With others thou shouldst not abhor my state:
+  If thy unworthiness raised love in me,
+  More worthy I to be beloved of thee.
+
+CLI.
+
+Love is too young to know what conscience is;
+Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
+Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
+Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:
+For, thou betraying me, I do betray
+My nobler part to my gross body's treason;
+My soul doth tell my body that he may
+Triumph in love; flesh stays no father reason;
+But, rising at thy name, doth point out thee
+As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
+He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
+To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
+  No want of conscience hold it that I call
+  Her 'love' for whose dear love I rise and fall.
+
+CLII.
+
+In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,
+But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing,
+In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn,
+In vowing new hate after new love bearing.
+But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee,
+When I break twenty? I am perjured most;
+For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee
+And all my honest faith in thee is lost,
+For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness,
+Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy,
+And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness,
+Or made them swear against the thing they see;
+  For I have sworn thee fair; more perjured I,
+  To swear against the truth so foul a lie!
+
+CLIII.
+
+Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep:
+A maid of Dian's this advantage found,
+And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
+In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;
+Which borrow'd from this holy fire of Love
+A dateless lively heat, still to endure,
+And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove
+Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.
+But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired,
+The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;
+I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,
+And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest,
+  But found no cure: the bath for my help lies
+  Where Cupid got new fire--my mistress' eyes.
+
+CLIV.
+
+The little Love-god lying once asleep
+Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
+Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste life to keep
+Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand
+The fairest votary took up that fire
+Which many legions of true hearts had warm'd;
+And so the general of hot desire
+Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarm'd.
+This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
+Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual,
+Growing a bath and healthful remedy
+For men diseased; but I, my mistress' thrall,
+  Came there for cure, and this by that I prove,
+  Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.
+	THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM
+
+
+
+I.
+
+WHEN my love swears that she is made of truth,
+I do believe her, though I know she lies,
+That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
+Unskilful in the world's false forgeries.
+Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
+Although I know my years be past the best,
+I smiling credit her false-speaking tongue,
+Outfacing faults in love with love's ill rest.
+But wherefore says my love that she is young?
+And wherefore say not I that I am old?
+O, love's best habit is a soothing tongue,
+And age, in love, loves not to have years told.
+Therefore I'll lie with love, and love with me,
+Since that our faults in love thus smother'd be.
+
+
+II.
+
+Two loves I have, of comfort and despair,
+That like two spirits do suggest me still;
+My better angel is a man right fair,
+My worser spirit a woman colour'd ill.
+To win me soon to hell, my female evil
+Tempteth my better angel from my side,
+And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
+Wooing his purity with her fair pride.
+And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend,
+Suspect I may, yet not directly tell:
+For being both to me, both to each friend,
+I guess one angel in another's hell;
+The truth I shall not know, but live in doubt,
+Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
+
+
+III.
+
+Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,
+'Gainst whom the world could not hold argument,
+Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
+Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.
+A woman I forswore; but I will prove,
+Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee:
+My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
+Thy grace being gain'd cures all disgrace in me.
+My vow was breath, and breath a vapour is;
+Then, thou fair sun, that on this earth doth shine,
+Exhale this vapour vow; in thee it is:
+If broken, then it is no fault of mine.
+If by me broke, what fool is not so wise
+To break an oath, to win a paradise?
+
+
+IV.
+
+Sweet Cytherea, sitting by a brook
+With young Adonis, lovely, fresh, and green,
+Did court the lad with many a lovely look,
+Such looks as none could look but beauty's queen.
+She told him stories to delight his ear;
+She showed him favors to allure his eye;
+To win his heart, she touch'd him here and there,--
+Touches so soft still conquer chastity.
+But whether unripe years did want conceit,
+Or he refused to take her figured proffer,
+The tender nibbler would not touch the bait,
+But smile and jest at every gentle offer:
+Then fell she on her back, fair queen, and toward:
+He rose and ran away; ah, fool too froward!
+
+
+V.
+
+If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love?
+O never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd:
+Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll constant prove;
+Those thoughts, to me like oaks, to thee like osiers bow'd.
+Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes,
+Where all those pleasures live that art can comprehend.
+If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice;
+Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend;
+All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder;
+Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire:
+Thine eye Jove's lightning seems, thy voice his dreadful
+thunder,
+Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire.
+Celestial as thou art, O do not love that wrong,
+To sing heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue.
+
+
+VI.
+
+Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn,
+And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade,
+When Cytherea, all in love forlorn,
+A longing tarriance for Adonis made
+Under an osier growing by a brook,
+A brook where Adon used to cool his spleen:
+Hot was the day; she hotter that did look
+For his approach, that often there had been.
+Anon he comes, and throws his mantle by,
+And stood stark naked on the brook's green brim:
+The sun look'd on the world with glorious eye,
+Yet not so wistly as this queen on him.
+He, spying her, bounced in, whereas he stood:
+'O Jove,' quoth she, 'why was not I a flood!'
+
+
+VII.
+
+Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle;
+Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty;
+Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle;
+Softer than wax, and yet, as iron, rusty:
+A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her,
+None fairer, nor none falser to deface her.
+
+Her lips to mine how often hath she joined,
+Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing!
+How many tales to please me hath she coined,
+Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing!
+Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings,
+Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jestings.
+
+She burn'd with love, as straw with fire flameth;
+She burn'd out love, as soon as straw outburneth;
+She framed the love, and yet she foil'd the framing;
+She bade love last, and yet she fell a-turning.
+Was this a lover, or a lecher whether?
+Bad in the best, though excellent in neither.
+
+
+VIII.
+
+If music and sweet poetry agree,
+As they must needs, the sister and the brother,
+Then must the love be great 'twixt thee and me,
+Because thou lovest the one, and I the other.
+Dowland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch
+Upon the lute doth ravish human sense;
+Spenser to me, whose deep conceit is such
+As, passing all conceit, needs no defence.
+Thou lovest to hear the sweet melodious sound
+That Phoebus' lute, the queen of music, makes;
+And I in deep delight am chiefly drown'd
+When as himself to singing he betakes.
+One god is god of both, as poets feign;
+One knight loves both, and both in thee remain.
+
+
+IX.
+
+Fair was the morn when the fair queen of love,
+[		   ]
+Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove,
+For Adon's sake, a youngster proud and wild;
+Her stand she takes upon a steep-up hill:
+Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds;
+She, silly queen, with more than love's good will,
+Forbade the boy he should not pass those grounds:
+'Once,' quoth she, 'did I see a fair sweet youth
+Here in these brakes deep-wounded with a boar,
+Deep in the thigh, a spectacle of ruth!
+See, in my thigh,' quoth she, 'here was the sore.'
+She showed hers: he saw more wounds than one,
+And blushing fled, and left her all alone.
+
+
+X.
+
+Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck'd, soon vaded,
+Pluck'd in the bud, and vaded in the spring!
+Bright orient pearl, alack, too timely shaded!
+Fair creature, kill'd too soon by death's sharp sting!
+Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree,
+And falls, through wind, before the fall should be.
+
+I weep for thee, and yet no cause I have;
+For why thou left'st me nothing in thy will:
+And yet thou left'st me more than I did crave;
+For why I craved nothing of thee still:
+O yes, dear friend, I pardon crave of thee,
+Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me.
+
+
+XI.
+
+Venus, with young Adonis sitting by her
+Under a myrtle shade, began to woo him:
+She told the youngling how god Mars did try her,
+And as he fell to her, so fell she to him.
+'Even thus,' quoth she, 'the warlike god embraced me,'
+And then she clipp'd Adonis in her arms;
+'Even thus,' quoth she, 'the warlike god unlaced me,'
+As if the boy should use like loving charms;
+'Even thus,' quoth she, 'he seized on my lips,'
+And with her lips on his did act the seizure:
+And as she fetched breath, away he skips,
+And would not take her meaning nor her pleasure.
+Ah, that I had my lady at this bay,
+To kiss and clip me till I run away!
+
+
+XII.
+
+Crabbed age and youth cannot live together:
+Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care;
+Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather;
+Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare.
+Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short;
+Youth is nimble, age is lame;
+Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold;
+Youth is wild, and age is tame.
+Age, I do abhor thee; youth, I do adore thee;
+O, my love, my love is young!
+Age, I do defy thee: O, sweet shepherd, hie thee,
+For methinks thou stay'st too long,
+
+
+XIII.
+
+Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good;
+A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly;
+A flower that dies when first it gins to bud;
+A brittle glass that's broken presently:
+A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,
+Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour.
+
+And as goods lost are seld or never found,
+As vaded gloss no rubbing will refresh,
+As flowers dead lie wither'd on the ground,
+As broken glass no cement can redress,
+So beauty blemish'd once's for ever lost,
+In spite of physic, painting, pain and cost.
+
+
+XIV.
+
+Good night, good rest. Ah, neither be my share:
+She bade good night that kept my rest away;
+And daff'd me to a cabin hang'd with care,
+To descant on the doubts of my decay.
+'Farewell,' quoth she, 'and come again tomorrow:'
+Fare well I could not, for I supp'd with sorrow.
+
+Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile,
+In scorn or friendship, nill I construe whether:
+'T may be, she joy'd to jest at my exile,
+'T may be, again to make me wander thither:
+'Wander,' a word for shadows like myself,
+As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf.
+
+
+XV.
+
+Lord, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east!
+My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rise
+Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest.
+Not daring trust the office of mine eyes,
+While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark,
+And wish her lays were tuned like the lark;
+
+For she doth welcome daylight with her ditty,
+And drives away dark dismal-dreaming night:
+The night so pack'd, I post unto my pretty;
+Heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished sight;
+Sorrow changed to solace, solace mix'd with sorrow;
+For why, she sigh'd and bade me come tomorrow.
+
+Were I with her, the night would post too soon;
+But now are minutes added to the hours;
+To spite me now, each minute seems a moon;
+Yet not for me, shine sun to succor flowers!
+Pack night, peep day; good day, of night now borrow:
+Short, night, to-night, and length thyself tomorrow.
+
+
+
+	SONNETS TO SUNDRY NOTES OF MUSIC
+
+
+XVI.
+
+IT was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of three,
+That liked of her master as well as well might be,
+Till looking on an Englishman, the fair'st that eye could see,
+Her fancy fell a-turning.
+
+Long was the combat doubtful that love with love did fight,
+To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant knight:
+To put in practise either, alas, it was a spite
+Unto the silly damsel!
+
+But one must be refused; more mickle was the pain
+That nothing could be used to turn them both to gain,
+For of the two the trusty knight was wounded with disdain:
+Alas, she could not help it!
+
+Thus art with arms contending was victor of the day,
+Which by a gift of learning did bear the maid away:
+Then, lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady gay;
+For now my song is ended.
+
+
+XVII.
+
+On a day, alack the day!
+Love, whose month was ever May,
+Spied a blossom passing fair,
+Playing in the wanton air:
+Through the velvet leaves the wind
+All unseen, gan passage find;
+That the lover, sick to death,
+Wish'd himself the heaven's breath,
+'Air,' quoth he, 'thy cheeks may blow;
+Air, would I might triumph so!
+But, alas! my hand hath sworn
+Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn:
+Vow, alack! for youth unmeet:
+Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet.
+Thou for whom Jove would swear
+Juno but an Ethiope were;
+And deny himself for Jove,
+Turning mortal for thy love.'
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+My flocks feed not,
+My ewes breed not,
+My rams speed not,
+All is amiss:
+Love's denying,
+Faith's defying,
+Heart's renying,
+Causer of this.
+All my merry jigs are quite forgot,
+All my lady's love is lost, God wot:
+Where her faith was firmly fix'd in love,
+There a nay is placed without remove.
+One silly cross
+Wrought all my loss;
+O frowning Fortune, cursed, fickle dame!
+For now I see
+Inconstancy
+More in women than in men remain.
+In black mourn I,
+All fears scorn I,
+Love hath forlorn me,
+Living in thrall:
+Heart is bleeding,
+All help needing,
+O cruel speeding,
+Fraughted with gall.
+My shepherd's pipe can sound no deal;
+My wether's bell rings doleful knell;
+My curtail dog, that wont to have play'd
+Plays not at all, but seems afraid;
+My sighs so deep
+Procure to weep,
+In howling wise, to see my doleful plight.
+How sighs resound
+Through heartless ground,
+Like a thousand vanquish'd men in bloody fight!
+Clear wells spring not,
+Sweet birds sing not,
+Green plants bring not
+Forth their dye;
+Herds stand weeping,
+Flocks all sleeping,
+Nymphs back peeping
+Fearfully:
+All our pleasure known to us poor swains,
+All our merry meetings on the plains,
+All our evening sport from us is fled,
+All our love is lost, for Love is dead
+Farewell, sweet lass,
+Thy like ne'er was
+For a sweet content, the cause of all my moan:
+Poor Corydon
+Must live alone;
+Other help for him I see that there is none.
+
+
+XIX.
+
+When as thine eye hath chose the dame,
+And stall'd the deer that thou shouldst strike,
+Let reason rule things worthy blame,
+As well as fancy partial might:
+Take counsel of some wiser head,
+Neither too young nor yet unwed.
+
+And when thou comest thy tale to tell,
+Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk,
+Lest she some subtle practise smell,--
+A cripple soon can find a halt;--
+But plainly say thou lovest her well,
+
+And set thy person forth to sell.
+What though her frowning brows be bent,
+Her cloudy looks will calm ere night:
+And then too late she will repent
+That thus dissembled her delight;
+And twice desire, ere it be day,
+That which with scorn she put away.
+
+What though she strive to try her strength,
+And ban and brawl, and say thee nay,
+Her feeble force will yield at length,
+When craft hath taught her thus to say,
+'Had women been so strong as men,
+In faith, you had not had it then.'
+
+And to her will frame all thy ways;
+Spare not to spend, and chiefly there
+Where thy desert may merit praise,
+By ringing in thy lady's ear:
+The strongest castle, tower, and town,
+The golden bullet beats it down.
+
+Serve always with assured trust,
+And in thy suit be humble true;
+Unless thy lady prove unjust,
+Press never thou to choose anew:
+When time shall serve, be thou not slack
+To proffer, though she put thee back.
+
+The wiles and guiles that women work,
+Dissembled with an outward show,
+The tricks and toys that in them lurk,
+The cock that treads them shall not know.
+Have you not heard it said full oft,
+A woman's nay doth stand for nought?
+
+Think women still to strive with men,
+To sin and never for to saint:
+There is no heaven, by holy then,
+When time with age doth them attaint.
+Were kisses all the joys in bed,
+One woman would another wed.
+
+But, soft! enough, too much, I fear
+Lest that my mistress hear my song,
+She will not stick to round me i' the ear,
+To teach my tongue to be so long:
+Yet will she blush, here be it said,
+To hear her secrets so bewray'd.
+
+
+XX.
+
+Live with me, and be my love,
+And we will all the pleasures prove
+That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
+And all the craggy mountains yields.
+
+There will we sit upon the rocks,
+And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
+By shallow rivers, by whose falls
+Melodious birds sing madrigals.
+
+There will I make thee a bed of roses,
+With a thousand fragrant posies,
+A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
+Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.
+
+A belt of straw and ivy buds,
+With coral clasps and amber studs;
+And if these pleasures may thee move,
+Then live with me and be my love.
+
+
+LOVE'S ANSWER.
+
+If that the world and love were young,
+And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
+These pretty pleasures might me move
+To live with thee and be thy love.
+
+
+XXI.
+
+As it fell upon a day
+In the merry month of May,
+Sitting in a pleasant shade
+Which a grove of myrtles made,
+Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,
+Trees did grow, and plants did spring;
+Every thing did banish moan,
+Save the nightingale alone:
+She, poor bird, as all forlorn,
+Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn
+And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,
+That to hear it was great pity:
+'Fie, fie, fie,' now would she cry;
+'Tereu, tereu!' by and by;
+That to hear her so complain,
+Scarce I could from tears refrain;
+For her griefs, so lively shown,
+Made me think upon mine own.
+Ah, thought I, thou mourn'st in vain!
+None takes pity on thy pain:
+Senseless trees they cannot hear thee;
+Ruthless beasts they will not cheer thee:
+King Pandion he is dead;
+All thy friends are lapp'd in lead;
+All thy fellow birds do sing,
+Careless of thy sorrowing.
+Even so, poor bird, like thee,
+None alive will pity me.
+Whilst as fickle Fortune smiled,
+Thou and I were both beguiled.
+Every one that flatters thee
+Is no friend in misery.
+Words are easy, like the wind;
+Faithful friends are hard to find:
+Every man will be thy friend
+Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend;
+But if store of crowns be scant,
+No man will supply thy want.
+If that one be prodigal,
+Bountiful they will him call,
+And with such-like flattering,
+'Pity but he were a king;'
+If he be addict to vice,
+Quickly him they will entice;
+If to women he be bent,
+They have at commandement:
+But if Fortune once do frown,
+Then farewell his great renown
+They that fawn'd on him before
+Use his company no more.
+He that is thy friend indeed,
+He will help thee in thy need:
+If thou sorrow, he will weep;
+If thou wake, he cannot sleep;
+Thus of every grief in heart
+He with thee doth bear a part.
+These are certain signs to know
+Faithful friend from flattering foe.
+
+
+
+
+	THE PHOENIX AND THE TURTLE
+
+
+
+	LET the bird of loudest lay,
+	On the sole Arabian tree,
+	Herald sad and trumpet be,
+	To whose sound chaste wings obey.
+
+	But thou shrieking harbinger,
+	Foul precurrer of the fiend,
+	Augur of the fever's end,
+	To this troop come thou not near!
+
+	From this session interdict
+	Every fowl of tyrant wing,
+	Save the eagle, feather'd king:
+	Keep the obsequy so strict.
+
+	Let the priest in surplice white,
+	That defunctive music can,
+	Be the death-divining swan,
+	Lest the requiem lack his right.
+
+	And thou treble-dated crow,
+	That thy sable gender makest
+	With the breath thou givest and takest,
+	'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go.
+
+	Here the anthem doth commence:
+	Love and constancy is dead;
+	Phoenix and the turtle fled
+	In a mutual flame from hence.
+
+	So they loved, as love in twain
+	Had the essence but in one;
+	Two distincts, division none:
+	Number there in love was slain.
+
+	Hearts remote, yet not asunder;
+	Distance, and no space was seen
+	'Twixt the turtle and his queen:
+	But in them it were a wonder.
+
+	So between them love did shine,
+	That the turtle saw his right
+	Flaming in the phoenix' sight;
+	Either was the other's mine.
+
+	Property was thus appalled,
+	That the self was not the same;
+	Single nature's double name
+	Neither two nor one was called.
+
+	Reason, in itself confounded,
+	Saw division grow together,
+	To themselves yet either neither,
+	Simple were so well compounded,
+
+	That it cried, How true a twain
+	Seemeth this concordant one!
+	Love hath reason, reason none,
+	If what parts can so remain.
+
+	Whereupon it made this threne
+	To the phoenix and the dove,
+	Co-supremes and stars of love,
+	As chorus to their tragic scene.
+
+	THRENOS.
+
+	Beauty, truth, and rarity,
+	Grace in all simplicity,
+	Here enclosed in cinders lie.
+
+	Death is now the phoenix' nest
+	And the turtle's loyal breast
+	To eternity doth rest,
+
+	Leaving no posterity:
+	'Twas not their infirmity,
+	It was married chastity.
+
+	Truth may seem, but cannot be:
+	Beauty brag, but 'tis not she;
+	Truth and beauty buried be.
+
+	To this urn let those repair
+	That are either true or fair
+	For these dead birds sigh a prayer.
+	VENUS AND ADONIS
+
+
+
+'Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
+Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.'
+
+TO THE
+RIGHT HONORABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,
+EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, AND BARON OF TICHFIELD.
+RIGHT HONORABLE,
+
+I KNOW not how I shall offend in dedicating my
+unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will
+censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a
+burden only, if your honour seem but pleased, I account
+myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle
+hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if
+the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be
+sorry it had so noble a god-father, and never after ear so
+barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest.
+I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your
+heart's content; which I wish may always answer your own wish
+and the world's hopeful expectation.
+
+Your honour's in all duty,
+WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.
+
+
+
+EVEN as the sun with purple-colour'd face
+Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
+Rose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase;
+Hunting he loved, but love he laugh'd to scorn;
+Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
+And like a bold-faced suitor 'gins to woo him.
+
+'Thrice-fairer than myself,' thus she began,
+'The field's chief flower, sweet above compare,
+Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
+More white and red than doves or roses are;
+Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
+Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.
+
+'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
+And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
+If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
+A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know:
+Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses,
+And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses;
+
+'And yet not cloy thy lips with loathed satiety,
+But rather famish them amid their plenty,
+Making them red and pale with fresh variety,
+Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:
+A summer's day will seem an hour but short,
+Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.'
+
+With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
+The precedent of pith and livelihood,
+And trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
+Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good:
+Being so enraged, desire doth lend her force
+Courageously to pluck him from his horse.
+
+Over one arm the lusty courser's rein,
+Under her other was the tender boy,
+Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain,
+With leaden appetite, unapt to toy;
+She red and hot as coals of glowing fire,
+He red for shame, but frosty in desire.
+
+The studded bridle on a ragged bough
+Nimbly she fastens:--O, how quick is love!--
+The steed is stalled up, and even now
+To tie the rider she begins to prove:
+Backward she push'd him, as she would be thrust,
+And govern'd him in strength, though not in lust.
+
+So soon was she along as he was down,
+Each leaning on their elbows and their hips:
+Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frown,
+And 'gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips;
+And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken,
+'If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open.'
+
+He burns with bashful shame: she with her tears
+Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks;
+Then with her windy sighs and golden hairs
+To fan and blow them dry again she seeks:
+He saith she is immodest, blames her 'miss;
+What follows more she murders with a kiss.
+
+Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast,
+Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh and bone,
+Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste,
+Till either gorge be stuff'd or prey be gone;
+Even so she kissed his brow, his cheek, his chin,
+And where she ends she doth anew begin.
+
+Forced to content, but never to obey,
+Panting he lies and breatheth in her face;
+She feedeth on the steam as on a prey,
+And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace;
+Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of flowers,
+So they were dew'd with such distilling showers.
+
+Look, how a bird lies tangled in a net,
+So fasten'd in her arms Adonis lies;
+Pure shame and awed resistance made him fret,
+Which bred more beauty in his angry eyes:
+Rain added to a river that is rank
+Perforce will force it overflow the bank.
+
+Still she entreats, and prettily entreats,
+For to a pretty ear she tunes her tale;
+Still is he sullen, still he lours and frets,
+'Twixt crimson shame and anger ashy-pale:
+Being red, she loves him best; and being white,
+Her best is better'd with a more delight.
+
+Look how he can, she cannot choose but love;
+And by her fair immortal hand she swears,
+From his soft bosom never to remove,
+Till he take truce with her contending tears,
+Which long have rain'd, making her cheeks all wet;
+And one sweet kiss shall pay this countless debt.
+
+Upon this promise did he raise his chin,
+Like a dive-dapper peering through a wave,
+Who, being look'd on, ducks as quickly in;
+So offers he to give what she did crave;
+But when her lips were ready for his pay,
+He winks, and turns his lips another way.
+
+Never did passenger in summer's heat
+More thirst for drink than she for this good turn.
+Her help she sees, but help she cannot get;
+She bathes in water, yet her fire must burn:
+'O, pity,' 'gan she cry, 'flint-hearted boy!
+'Tis but a kiss I beg; why art thou coy?
+
+'I have been woo'd, as I entreat thee now,
+Even by the stern and direful god of war,
+Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow,
+Who conquers where he comes in every jar;
+Yet hath he been my captive and my slave,
+And begg'd for that which thou unask'd shalt have.
+
+'Over my altars hath he hung his lance,
+His batter'd shield, his uncontrolled crest,
+And for my sake hath learn'd to sport and dance,
+To toy, to wanton, dally, smile and jest,
+Scorning his churlish drum and ensign red,
+Making my arms his field, his tent my bed.
+
+'Thus he that overruled I oversway'd,
+Leading him prisoner in a red-rose chain:
+Strong-tempered steel his stronger strength obey'd,
+Yet was he servile to my coy disdain.
+O, be not proud, nor brag not of thy might,
+For mastering her that foil'd the god of fight!
+
+'Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine,--
+Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red--
+The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine.
+What seest thou in the ground? hold up thy head:
+Look in mine eye-balls, there thy beauty lies;
+Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes?
+'Art thou ashamed to kiss? then wink again,
+And I will wink; so shall the day seem night;
+Love keeps his revels where they are but twain;
+Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight:
+These blue-vein'd violets whereon we lean
+Never can blab, nor know not what we mean.
+
+'The tender spring upon thy tempting lip
+Shows thee unripe; yet mayst thou well be tasted:
+Make use of time, let not advantage slip;
+Beauty within itself should not be wasted:
+Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime
+Rot and consume themselves in little time.
+
+'Were I hard-favour'd, foul, or wrinkled-old,
+Ill-nurtured, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice,
+O'erworn, despised, rheumatic and cold,
+Thick-sighted, barren, lean and lacking juice,
+Then mightst thou pause, for then I were not for thee
+But having no defects, why dost abhor me?
+
+'Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow;
+Mine eyes are gray and bright and quick in turning:
+My beauty as the spring doth yearly grow,
+My flesh is soft and plump, my marrow burning;
+My smooth moist hand, were it with thy hand felt,
+Would in thy palm dissolve, or seem to melt.
+
+'Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,
+Or, like a fairy, trip upon the green,
+Or, like a nymph, with long dishevell'd hair,
+Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen:
+Love is a spirit all compact of fire,
+Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.
+
+'Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie;
+These forceless flowers like sturdy trees support me;
+Two strengthless doves will draw me through the sky,
+From morn till night, even where I list to sport me:
+Is love so light, sweet boy, and may it be
+That thou shouldst think it heavy unto thee?
+
+'Is thine own heart to thine own face affected?
+Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left?
+Then woo thyself, be of thyself rejected,
+Steal thine own freedom and complain on theft.
+Narcissus so himself himself forsook,
+And died to kiss his shadow in the brook.
+
+'Torches are made to light, jewels to wear,
+Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use,
+Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear:
+Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse:
+Seeds spring from seeds and beauty breedeth beauty;
+Thou wast begot; to get it is thy duty.
+
+'Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed,
+Unless the earth with thy increase be fed?
+By law of nature thou art bound to breed,
+That thine may live when thou thyself art dead;
+And so, in spite of death, thou dost survive,
+In that thy likeness still is left alive.'
+
+By this the love-sick queen began to sweat,
+For where they lay the shadow had forsook them,
+And Titan, tired in the mid-day heat,
+With burning eye did hotly overlook them;
+Wishing Adonis had his team to guide,
+So he were like him and by Venus' side.
+
+And now Adonis, with a lazy spright,
+And with a heavy, dark, disliking eye,
+His louring brows o'erwhelming his fair sight,
+Like misty vapours when they blot the sky,
+Souring his cheeks cries 'Fie, no more of love!
+The sun doth burn my face: I must remove.'
+
+'Ay me,' quoth Venus, 'young, and so unkind?
+What bare excuses makest thou to be gone!
+I'll sigh celestial breath, whose gentle wind
+Shall cool the heat of this descending sun:
+I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs;
+If they burn too, I'll quench them with my tears.
+
+'The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm,
+And, lo, I lie between that sun and thee:
+The heat I have from thence doth little harm,
+Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me;
+And were I not immortal, life were done
+Between this heavenly and earthly sun.
+
+'Art thou obdurate, flinty, hard as steel,
+Nay, more than flint, for stone at rain relenteth?
+Art thou a woman's son, and canst not feel
+What 'tis to love? how want of love tormenteth?
+O, had thy mother borne so hard a mind,
+She had not brought forth thee, but died unkind.
+
+'What am I, that thou shouldst contemn me this?
+Or what great danger dwells upon my suit?
+What were thy lips the worse for one poor kiss?
+Speak, fair; but speak fair words, or else be mute:
+Give me one kiss, I'll give it thee again,
+And one for interest, if thou wilt have twain.
+
+'Fie, lifeless picture, cold and senseless stone,
+Well-painted idol, image dun and dead,
+Statue contenting but the eye alone,
+Thing like a man, but of no woman bred!
+Thou art no man, though of a man's complexion,
+For men will kiss even by their own direction.'
+
+This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue,
+And swelling passion doth provoke a pause;
+Red cheeks and fiery eyes blaze forth he wrong;
+Being judge in love, she cannot right her cause:
+And now she weeps, and now she fain would speak,
+And now her sobs do her intendments break.
+
+Sometimes she shakes her head and then his hand,
+Now gazeth she on him, now on the ground;
+Sometimes her arms infold him like a band:
+She would, he will not in her arms be bound;
+And when from thence he struggles to be gone,
+She locks her lily fingers one in one.
+
+'Fondling,' she saith, 'since I have hemm'd thee here
+Within the circuit of this ivory pale,
+I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer;
+Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale:
+Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry,
+Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.
+
+Within this limit is relief enough,
+Sweet bottom-grass and high delightful plain,
+Round rising hillocks, brakes obscure and rough,
+To shelter thee from tempest and from rain
+Then be my deer, since I am such a park;
+No dog shall rouse thee, though a thousand bark.'
+
+At this Adonis smiles as in disdain,
+That in each cheek appears a pretty dimple:
+Love made those hollows, if himself were slain,
+He might be buried in a tomb so simple;
+Foreknowing well, if there he came to lie,
+Why, there Love lived and there he could not die.
+
+These lovely caves, these round enchanting pits,
+Open'd their mouths to swallow Venus' liking.
+Being mad before, how doth she now for wits?
+Struck dead at first, what needs a second striking?
+Poor queen of love, in thine own law forlorn,
+To love a cheek that smiles at thee in scorn!
+
+Now which way shall she turn? what shall she say?
+Her words are done, her woes are more increasing;
+The time is spent, her object will away,
+And from her twining arms doth urge releasing.
+'Pity,' she cries, 'some favour, some remorse!'
+Away he springs and hasteth to his horse.
+
+But, lo, from forth a copse that neighbors by,
+A breeding jennet, lusty, young and proud,
+Adonis' trampling courser doth espy,
+And forth she rushes, snorts and neighs aloud:
+The strong-neck'd steed, being tied unto a tree,
+Breaketh his rein, and to her straight goes he.
+
+Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,
+And now his woven girths he breaks asunder;
+The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds,
+Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder;
+The iron bit he crusheth 'tween his teeth,
+Controlling what he was controlled with.
+
+His ears up-prick'd; his braided hanging mane
+Upon his compass'd crest now stand on end;
+His nostrils drink the air, and forth again,
+As from a furnace, vapours doth he send:
+His eye, which scornfully glisters like fire,
+Shows his hot courage and his high desire.
+
+Sometime he trots, as if he told the steps,
+With gentle majesty and modest pride;
+Anon he rears upright, curvets and leaps,
+As who should say 'Lo, thus my strength is tried,
+And this I do to captivate the eye
+Of the fair breeder that is standing by.'
+
+What recketh he his rider's angry stir,
+His flattering 'Holla,' or his 'Stand, I say'?
+What cares he now for curb or pricking spur?
+For rich caparisons or trapping gay?
+He sees his love, and nothing else he sees,
+For nothing else with his proud sight agrees.
+
+Look, when a painter would surpass the life,
+In limning out a well-proportion'd steed,
+His art with nature's workmanship at strife,
+As if the dead the living should exceed;
+So did this horse excel a common one
+In shape, in courage, colour, pace and bone.
+
+Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
+Broad breast, full eye, small head and nostril wide,
+High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong,
+Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide:
+Look, what a horse should have he did not lack,
+Save a proud rider on so proud a back.
+
+Sometime he scuds far off and there he stares;
+Anon he starts at stirring of a feather;
+To bid the wind a base he now prepares,
+And whether he run or fly they know not whether;
+For through his mane and tail the high wind sings,
+Fanning the hairs, who wave like feather'd wings.
+
+He looks upon his love and neighs unto her;
+She answers him as if she knew his mind:
+Being proud, as females are, to see him woo her,
+She puts on outward strangeness, seems unkind,
+Spurns at his love and scorns the heat he feels,
+Beating his kind embracements with her heels.
+
+Then, like a melancholy malcontent,
+He veils his tail that, like a falling plume,
+Cool shadow to his melting buttock lent:
+He stamps and bites the poor flies in his fume.
+His love, perceiving how he is enraged,
+Grew kinder, and his fury was assuaged.
+
+His testy master goeth about to take him;
+When, lo, the unback'd breeder, full of fear,
+Jealous of catching, swiftly doth forsake him,
+With her the horse, and left Adonis there:
+As they were mad, unto the wood they hie them,
+Out-stripping crows that strive to over-fly them.
+
+All swoln with chafing, down Adonis sits,
+Banning his boisterous and unruly beast:
+And now the happy season once more fits,
+That love-sick Love by pleading may be blest;
+For lovers say, the heart hath treble wrong
+When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue.
+
+An oven that is stopp'd, or river stay'd,
+Burneth more hotly, swelleth with more rage:
+So of concealed sorrow may be said;
+Free vent of words love's fire doth assuage;
+But when the heart's attorney once is mute,
+The client breaks, as desperate in his suit.
+
+He sees her coming, and begins to glow,
+Even as a dying coal revives with wind,
+And with his bonnet hides his angry brow;
+Looks on the dull earth with disturbed mind,
+Taking no notice that she is so nigh,
+For all askance he holds her in his eye.
+
+O, what a sight it was, wistly to view
+How she came stealing to the wayward boy!
+To note the fighting conflict of her hue,
+How white and red each other did destroy!
+But now her cheek was pale, and by and by
+It flash'd forth fire, as lightning from the sky.
+
+Now was she just before him as he sat,
+And like a lowly lover down she kneels;
+With one fair hand she heaveth up his hat,
+Her other tender hand his fair cheek feels:
+His tenderer cheek receives her soft hand's print,
+As apt as new-fall'n snow takes any dint.
+
+O, what a war of looks was then between them!
+Her eyes petitioners to his eyes suing;
+His eyes saw her eyes as they had not seen them;
+Her eyes woo'd still, his eyes disdain'd the wooing:
+And all this dumb play had his acts made plain
+With tears, which, chorus-like, her eyes did rain.
+
+Full gently now she takes him by the hand,
+A lily prison'd in a gaol of snow,
+Or ivory in an alabaster band;
+So white a friend engirts so white a foe:
+This beauteous combat, wilful and unwilling,
+Show'd like two silver doves that sit a-billing.
+
+Once more the engine of her thoughts began:
+'O fairest mover on this mortal round,
+Would thou wert as I am, and I a man,
+My heart all whole as thine, thy heart my wound;
+For one sweet look thy help I would assure thee,
+Though nothing but my body's bane would cure thee!
+
+'Give me my hand,' saith he, 'why dost thou feel it?'
+'Give me my heart,' saith she, 'and thou shalt have it:
+O, give it me, lest thy hard heart do steel it,
+And being steel'd, soft sighs can never grave it:
+Then love's deep groans I never shall regard,
+Because Adonis' heart hath made mine hard.'
+
+'For shame,' he cries, 'let go, and let me go;
+My day's delight is past, my horse is gone,
+And 'tis your fault I am bereft him so:
+I pray you hence, and leave me here alone;
+For all my mind, my thought, my busy care,
+Is how to get my palfrey from the mare.'
+
+Thus she replies: 'Thy palfrey, as he should,
+Welcomes the warm approach of sweet desire:
+Affection is a coal that must be cool'd;
+Else, suffer'd, it will set the heart on fire:
+The sea hath bounds, but deep desire hath none;
+Therefore no marvel though thy horse be gone.
+
+'How like a jade he stood, tied to the tree,
+Servilely master'd with a leathern rein!
+But when he saw his love, his youth's fair fee,
+He held such petty bondage in disdain;
+Throwing the base thong from his bending crest,
+Enfranchising his mouth, his back, his breast.
+
+'Who sees his true-love in her naked bed,
+Teaching the sheets a whiter hue than white,
+But, when his glutton eye so full hath fed,
+His other agents aim at like delight?
+Who is so faint, that dare not be so bold
+To touch the fire, the weather being cold?
+
+'Let me excuse thy courser, gentle boy;
+And learn of him, I heartily beseech thee,
+To take advantage on presented joy;
+Though I were dumb, yet his proceedings teach thee;
+O, learn to love; the lesson is but plain,
+And once made perfect, never lost again.'
+
+I know not love,' quoth he, 'nor will not know it,
+Unless it be a boar, and then I chase it;
+'Tis much to borrow, and I will not owe it;
+My love to love is love but to disgrace it;
+For I have heard it is a life in death,
+That laughs and weeps, and all but with a breath.
+
+'Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinish'd?
+Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth?
+If springing things be any jot diminish'd,
+They wither in their prime, prove nothing worth:
+The colt that's back'd and burden'd being young
+Loseth his pride and never waxeth strong.
+
+'You hurt my hand with wringing; let us part,
+And leave this idle theme, this bootless chat:
+Remove your siege from my unyielding heart;
+To love's alarms it will not ope the gate:
+Dismiss your vows, your feigned tears, your flattery;
+For where a heart is hard they make no battery.'
+
+'What! canst thou talk?' quoth she, 'hast thou a tongue?
+O, would thou hadst not, or I had no hearing!
+Thy mermaid's voice hath done me double wrong;
+I had my load before, now press'd with bearing:
+Melodious discord, heavenly tune harshsounding,
+Ear's deep-sweet music, and heart's deep-sore wounding.
+
+'Had I no eyes but ears, my ears would love
+That inward beauty and invisible;
+Or were I deaf, thy outward parts would move
+Each part in me that were but sensible:
+Though neither eyes nor ears, to hear nor see,
+Yet should I be in love by touching thee.
+
+'Say, that the sense of feeling were bereft me,
+And that I could not see, nor hear, nor touch,
+And nothing but the very smell were left me,
+Yet would my love to thee be still as much;
+For from the stillitory of thy face excelling
+Comes breath perfumed that breedeth love by
+smelling.
+
+'But, O, what banquet wert thou to the taste,
+Being nurse and feeder of the other four!
+Would they not wish the feast might ever last,
+And bid Suspicion double-lock the door,
+Lest Jealousy, that sour unwelcome guest,
+Should, by his stealing in, disturb the feast?'
+
+Once more the ruby-colour'd portal open'd,
+Which to his speech did honey passage yield;
+Like a red morn, that ever yet betoken'd
+Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field,
+Sorrow to shepherds, woe unto the birds,
+Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds.
+
+This ill presage advisedly she marketh:
+Even as the wind is hush'd before it raineth,
+Or as the wolf doth grin before he barketh,
+Or as the berry breaks before it staineth,
+Or like the deadly bullet of a gun,
+His meaning struck her ere his words begun.
+
+And at his look she flatly falleth down,
+For looks kill love and love by looks reviveth;
+A smile recures the wounding of a frown;
+But blessed bankrupt, that by love so thriveth!
+The silly boy, believing she is dead,
+Claps her pale cheek, till clapping makes it red;
+
+And all amazed brake off his late intent,
+For sharply he did think to reprehend her,
+Which cunning love did wittily prevent:
+Fair fall the wit that can so well defend her!
+For on the grass she lies as she were slain,
+Till his breath breatheth life in her again.
+
+He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks,
+He bends her fingers, holds her pulses hard,
+He chafes her lips; a thousand ways he seeks
+To mend the hurt that his unkindness marr'd:
+He kisses her; and she, by her good will,
+Will never rise, so he will kiss her still.
+
+The night of sorrow now is turn'd to day:
+Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth,
+Like the fair sun, when in his fresh array
+He cheers the morn and all the earth relieveth;
+And as the bright sun glorifies the sky,
+So is her face illumined with her eye;
+
+Whose beams upon his hairless face are fix'd,
+As if from thence they borrow'd all their shine.
+Were never four such lamps together mix'd,
+Had not his clouded with his brow's repine;
+But hers, which through the crystal tears gave light,
+Shone like the moon in water seen by night.
+
+'O, where am I?' quoth she, 'in earth or heaven,
+Or in the ocean drench'd, or in the fire?
+What hour is this? or morn or weary even?
+Do I delight to die, or life desire?
+But now I lived, and life was death's annoy;
+But now I died, and death was lively joy.
+
+'O, thou didst kill me: kill me once again:
+Thy eyes' shrewd tutor, that hard heart of thine,
+Hath taught them scornful tricks and such disdain
+That they have murder'd this poor heart of mine;
+And these mine eyes, true leaders to their queen,
+But for thy piteous lips no more had seen.
+
+'Long may they kiss each other, for this cure!
+O, never let their crimson liveries wear!
+And as they last, their verdure still endure,
+To drive infection from the dangerous year!
+That the star-gazers, having writ on death,
+May say, the plague is banish'd by thy breath.
+
+'Pure lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted,
+What bargains may I make, still to be sealing?
+To sell myself I can be well contented,
+So thou wilt buy and pay and use good dealing;
+Which purchase if thou make, for fear of slips
+Set thy seal-manual on my wax-red lips.
+
+'A thousand kisses buys my heart from me;
+And pay them at thy leisure, one by one.
+What is ten hundred touches unto thee?
+Are they not quickly told and quickly gone?
+Say, for non-payment that the debt should double,
+Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble?
+
+'Fair queen,' quoth he, 'if any love you owe me,
+Measure my strangeness with my unripe years:
+Before I know myself, seek not to know me;
+No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears:
+The mellow plum doth fall, the green sticks fast,
+Or being early pluck'd is sour to taste.
+
+'Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait,
+His day's hot task hath ended in the west;
+The owl, night's herald, shrieks, ''Tis very late;'
+The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest,
+And coal-black clouds that shadow heaven's light
+Do summon us to part and bid good night.
+
+'Now let me say 'Good night,' and so say you;
+If you will say so, you shall have a kiss.'
+'Good night,' quoth she, and, ere he says 'Adieu,'
+The honey fee of parting tender'd is:
+Her arms do lend his neck a sweet embrace;
+Incorporate then they seem; face grows to face.
+
+Till, breathless, he disjoin'd, and backward drew
+The heavenly moisture, that sweet coral mouth,
+Whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew,
+Whereon they surfeit, yet complain on drouth:
+He with her plenty press'd, she faint with dearth
+Their lips together glued, fall to the earth.
+
+Now quick desire hath caught the yielding prey,
+And glutton-like she feeds, yet never filleth;
+Her lips are conquerors, his lips obey,
+Paying what ransom the insulter willeth;
+Whose vulture thought doth pitch the price so high,
+That she will draw his lips' rich treasure dry:
+
+And having felt the sweetness of the spoil,
+With blindfold fury she begins to forage;
+Her face doth reek and smoke, her blood doth boil,
+And careless lust stirs up a desperate courage,
+Planting oblivion, beating reason back,
+Forgetting shame's pure blush and honour's wrack.
+
+Hot, faint, and weary, with her hard embracing,
+Like a wild bird being tamed with too much handling,
+Or as the fleet-foot roe that's tired with chasing,
+Or like the froward infant still'd with dandling,
+He now obeys, and now no more resisteth,
+While she takes all she can, not all she listeth.
+
+What wax so frozen but dissolves with tempering,
+And yields at last to every light impression?
+Things out of hope are compass'd oft with venturing,
+Chiefly in love, whose leave exceeds commission:
+Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward,
+But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
+
+When he did frown, O, had she then gave over,
+Such nectar from his lips she had not suck'd.
+Foul words and frowns must not repel a lover;
+What though the rose have prickles, yet 'tis pluck'd:
+Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast,
+Yet love breaks through and picks them all at last.
+
+For pity now she can no more detain him;
+The poor fool prays her that he may depart:
+She is resolved no longer to restrain him;
+Bids him farewell, and look well to her heart,
+The which, by Cupid's bow she doth protest,
+He carries thence incaged in his breast.
+
+'Sweet boy,' she says, 'this night I'll waste in sorrow,
+For my sick heart commands mine eyes to watch.
+Tell me, Love's master, shall we meet to-morrow?
+Say, shall we? shall we? wilt thou make the match?'
+He tells her, no; to-morrow he intends
+To hunt the boar with certain of his friends.
+
+'The boar!' quoth she; whereat a sudden pale,
+Like lawn being spread upon the blushing rose,
+Usurps her cheek; she trembles at his tale,
+And on his neck her yoking arms she throws:
+She sinketh down, still hanging by his neck,
+He on her belly falls, she on her back.
+
+Now is she in the very lists of love,
+Her champion mounted for the hot encounter:
+All is imaginary she doth prove,
+He will not manage her, although he mount her;
+That worse than Tantalus' is her annoy,
+To clip Elysium and to lack her joy.
+
+Even as poor birds, deceived with painted grapes,
+Do surfeit by the eye and pine the maw,
+Even so she languisheth in her mishaps,
+As those poor birds that helpless berries saw.
+The warm effects which she in him finds missing
+She seeks to kindle with continual kissing.
+
+But all in vain; good queen, it will not be:
+She hath assay'd as much as may be proved;
+Her pleading hath deserved a greater fee;
+She's Love, she loves, and yet she is not loved.
+'Fie, fie,' he says, 'you crush me; let me go;
+You have no reason to withhold me so.'
+
+'Thou hadst been gone,' quoth she, 'sweet boy, ere this,
+But that thou told'st me thou wouldst hunt the boar.
+O, be advised! thou know'st not what it is
+With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore,
+Whose tushes never sheathed he whetteth still,
+Like to a mortal butcher bent to kill.
+
+'On his bow-back he hath a battle set
+Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes;
+His eyes, like glow-worms, shine when he doth fret;
+His snout digs sepulchres where'er he goes;
+Being moved, he strikes whate'er is in his way,
+And whom he strikes his cruel tushes slay.
+
+'His brawny sides, with hairy bristles arm'd,
+Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter;
+His short thick neck cannot be easily harm'd;
+Being ireful, on the lion he will venture:
+The thorny brambles and embracing bushes,
+As fearful of him, part, through whom he rushes.
+
+'Alas, he nought esteems that face of thine,
+To which Love's eyes pay tributary gazes;
+Nor thy soft hands, sweet lips and crystal eyne,
+Whose full perfection all the world amazes;
+But having thee at vantage,--wondrous dread!--
+Would root these beauties as he roots the mead.
+
+'O, let him keep his loathsome cabin still;
+Beauty hath nought to do with such foul fiends:
+Come not within his danger by thy will;
+They that thrive well take counsel of their friends.
+When thou didst name the boar, not to dissemble,
+I fear'd thy fortune, and my joints did tremble.
+
+'Didst thou not mark my face? was it not white?
+Saw'st thou not signs of fear lurk in mine eye?
+Grew I not faint? and fell I not downright?
+Within my bosom, whereon thou dost lie,
+My boding heart pants, beats, and takes no rest,
+But, like an earthquake, shakes thee on my breast.
+
+'For where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy
+Doth call himself Affection's sentinel;
+Gives false alarms, suggesteth mutiny,
+And in a peaceful hour doth cry 'Kill, kill!'
+Distempering gentle Love in his desire,
+As air and water do abate the fire.
+
+'This sour informer, this bate-breeding spy,
+This canker that eats up Love's tender spring,
+This carry-tale, dissentious Jealousy,
+That sometime true news, sometime false doth bring,
+Knocks at my heat and whispers in mine ear
+That if I love thee, I thy death should fear:
+
+'And more than so, presenteth to mine eye
+The picture of an angry-chafing boar,
+Under whose sharp fangs on his back doth lie
+An image like thyself, all stain'd with gore;
+Whose blood upon the fresh flowers being shed
+Doth make them droop with grief and hang the head.
+
+'What should I do, seeing thee so indeed,
+That tremble at the imagination?
+The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed,
+And fear doth teach it divination:
+I prophesy thy death, my living sorrow,
+If thou encounter with the boar to-morrow.
+
+'But if thou needs wilt hunt, be ruled by me;
+Uncouple at the timorous flying hare,
+Or at the fox which lives by subtlety,
+Or at the roe which no encounter dare:
+Pursue these fearful creatures o'er the downs,
+And on thy well-breath'd horse keep with thy
+hounds.
+
+'And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare,
+Mark the poor wretch, to overshoot his troubles
+How he outruns the wind and with what care
+He cranks and crosses with a thousand doubles:
+The many musets through the which he goes
+Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes.
+
+'Sometime he runs among a flock of sheep,
+To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell,
+And sometime where earth-delving conies keep,
+To stop the loud pursuers in their yell,
+And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer:
+Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear:
+
+'For there his smell with others being mingled,
+The hot scent-snuffing hounds are driven to doubt,
+Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled
+With much ado the cold fault cleanly out;
+Then do they spend their mouths: Echo replies,
+As if another chase were in the skies.
+
+'By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill,
+Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear,
+To harken if his foes pursue him still:
+Anon their loud alarums he doth hear;
+And now his grief may be compared well
+To one sore sick that hears the passing-bell.
+
+'Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch
+Turn, and return, indenting with the way;
+Each envious brier his weary legs doth scratch,
+Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay:
+For misery is trodden on by many,
+And being low never relieved by any.
+
+'Lie quietly, and hear a little more;
+Nay, do not struggle, for thou shalt not rise:
+To make thee hate the hunting of the boar,
+Unlike myself thou hear'st me moralize,
+Applying this to that, and so to so;
+For love can comment upon every woe.
+
+'Where did I leave?' 'No matter where,' quoth he,
+'Leave me, and then the story aptly ends:
+The night is spent.' 'Why, what of that?' quoth she.
+'I am,' quoth he, 'expected of my friends;
+And now 'tis dark, and going I shall fall.'
+'In night,' quoth she, 'desire sees best of all
+
+'But if thou fall, O, then imagine this,
+The earth, in love with thee, thy footing trips,
+And all is but to rob thee of a kiss.
+Rich preys make true men thieves; so do thy lips
+Make modest Dian cloudy and forlorn,
+Lest she should steal a kiss and die forsworn.
+
+'Now of this dark night I perceive the reason:
+Cynthia for shame obscures her silver shine,
+Till forging Nature be condemn'd of treason,
+For stealing moulds from heaven that were divine;
+Wherein she framed thee in high heaven's despite,
+To shame the sun by day and her by night.
+
+'And therefore hath she bribed the Destinies
+To cross the curious workmanship of nature,
+To mingle beauty with infirmities,
+And pure perfection with impure defeature,
+Making it subject to the tyranny
+Of mad mischances and much misery;
+
+'As burning fevers, agues pale and faint,
+Life-poisoning pestilence and frenzies wood,
+The marrow-eating sickness, whose attaint
+Disorder breeds by heating of the blood:
+Surfeits, imposthumes, grief, and damn'd despair,
+Swear nature's death for framing thee so fair.
+
+'And not the least of all these maladies
+But in one minute's fight brings beauty under:
+Both favour, savour, hue and qualities,
+Whereat the impartial gazer late did wonder,
+Are on the sudden wasted, thaw'd and done,
+As mountain-snow melts with the midday sun.
+
+'Therefore, despite of fruitless chastity,
+Love-lacking vestals and self-loving nuns,
+That on the earth would breed a scarcity
+And barren dearth of daughters and of sons,
+Be prodigal: the lamp that burns by night
+Dries up his oil to lend the world his light.
+
+'What is thy body but a swallowing grave,
+Seeming to bury that posterity
+Which by the rights of time thou needs must have,
+If thou destroy them not in dark obscurity?
+If so, the world will hold thee in disdain,
+Sith in thy pride so fair a hope is slain.
+
+'So in thyself thyself art made away;
+A mischief worse than civil home-bred strife,
+Or theirs whose desperate hands themselves do slay,
+Or butcher-sire that reaves his son of life.
+Foul-cankering rust the hidden treasure frets,
+But gold that's put to use more gold begets.'
+
+'Nay, then,' quoth Adon, 'you will fall again
+Into your idle over-handled theme:
+The kiss I gave you is bestow'd in vain,
+And all in vain you strive against the stream;
+For, by this black-faced night, desire's foul nurse,
+Your treatise makes me like you worse and worse.
+
+'If love have lent you twenty thousand tongues,
+And every tongue more moving than your own,
+Bewitching like the wanton mermaid's songs,
+Yet from mine ear the tempting tune is blown
+For know, my heart stands armed in mine ear,
+And will not let a false sound enter there;
+
+'Lest the deceiving harmony should run
+Into the quiet closure of my breast;
+And then my little heart were quite undone,
+In his bedchamber to be barr'd of rest.
+No, lady, no; my heart longs not to groan,
+But soundly sleeps, while now it sleeps alone.
+
+'What have you urged that I cannot reprove?
+The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger:
+I hate not love, but your device in love,
+That lends embracements unto every stranger.
+You do it for increase: O strange excuse,
+When reason is the bawd to lust's abuse!
+
+'Call it not love, for Love to heaven is fled,
+Since sweating Lust on earth usurp'd his name;
+Under whose simple semblance he hath fed
+Upon fresh beauty, blotting it with blame;
+Which the hot tyrant stains and soon bereaves,
+As caterpillars do the tender leaves.
+
+'Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,
+But Lust's effect is tempest after sun;
+Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain,
+Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done;
+Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies;
+Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies.
+
+'More I could tell, but more I dare not say;
+The text is old, the orator too green.
+Therefore, in sadness, now I will away;
+My face is full of shame, my heart of teen:
+Mine ears, that to your wanton talk attended,
+Do burn themselves for having so offended.'
+
+With this, he breaketh from the sweet embrace,
+Of those fair arms which bound him to her breast,
+And homeward through the dark laund runs apace;
+Leaves Love upon her back deeply distress'd.
+Look, how a bright star shooteth from the sky,
+So glides he in the night from Venus' eye.
+
+Which after him she darts, as one on shore
+Gazing upon a late-embarked friend,
+Till the wild waves will have him seen no more,
+Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend:
+So did the merciless and pitchy night
+Fold in the object that did feed her sight.
+
+Whereat amazed, as one that unaware
+Hath dropp'd a precious jewel in the flood,
+Or stonish'd as night-wanderers often are,
+Their light blown out in some mistrustful wood,
+Even so confounded in the dark she lay,
+Having lost the fair discovery of her way.
+
+And now she beats her heart, whereat it groans,
+That all the neighbour caves, as seeming troubled,
+Make verbal repetition of her moans;
+Passion on passion deeply is redoubled:
+'Ay me!' she cries, and twenty times 'Woe, woe!'
+And twenty echoes twenty times cry so.
+
+She marking them begins a wailing note
+And sings extemporally a woeful ditty;
+How love makes young men thrall and old men dote;
+How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty:
+Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe,
+And still the choir of echoes answer so.
+
+Her song was tedious and outwore the night,
+For lovers' hours are long, though seeming short:
+If pleased themselves, others, they think, delight
+In such-like circumstance, with suchlike sport:
+Their copious stories oftentimes begun
+End without audience and are never done.
+
+For who hath she to spend the night withal
+But idle sounds resembling parasites,
+Like shrill-tongued tapsters answering every call,
+Soothing the humour of fantastic wits?
+She says ''Tis so:' they answer all ''Tis so;'
+And would say after her, if she said 'No.'
+
+Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
+From his moist cabinet mounts up on high,
+And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast
+The sun ariseth in his majesty;
+Who doth the world so gloriously behold
+That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.
+
+Venus salutes him with this fair good-morrow:
+'O thou clear god, and patron of all light,
+From whom each lamp and shining star doth borrow
+The beauteous influence that makes him bright,
+There lives a son that suck'd an earthly mother,
+May lend thee light, as thou dost lend to other.'
+
+This said, she hasteth to a myrtle grove,
+Musing the morning is so much o'erworn,
+And yet she hears no tidings of her love:
+She hearkens for his hounds and for his horn:
+Anon she hears them chant it lustily,
+And all in haste she coasteth to the cry.
+
+And as she runs, the bushes in the way
+Some catch her by the neck, some kiss her face,
+Some twine about her thigh to make her stay:
+She wildly breaketh from their strict embrace,
+Like a milch doe, whose swelling dugs do ache,
+Hasting to feed her fawn hid in some brake.
+
+By this, she hears the hounds are at a bay;
+Whereat she starts, like one that spies an adder
+Wreathed up in fatal folds just in his way,
+The fear whereof doth make him shake and shudder;
+Even so the timorous yelping of the hounds
+Appals her senses and her spirit confounds.
+
+For now she knows it is no gentle chase,
+But the blunt boar, rough bear, or lion proud,
+Because the cry remaineth in one place,
+Where fearfully the dogs exclaim aloud:
+Finding their enemy to be so curst,
+They all strain courtesy who shall cope him first.
+
+This dismal cry rings sadly in her ear,
+Through which it enters to surprise her heart;
+Who, overcome by doubt and bloodless fear,
+With cold-pale weakness numbs each feeling part:
+Like soldiers, when their captain once doth yield,
+They basely fly and dare not stay the field.
+
+Thus stands she in a trembling ecstasy;
+Till, cheering up her senses all dismay'd,
+She tells them 'tis a causeless fantasy,
+And childish error, that they are afraid;
+Bids them leave quaking, bids them fear no more:--
+And with that word she spied the hunted boar,
+
+Whose frothy mouth, bepainted all with red,
+Like milk and blood being mingled both together,
+A second fear through all her sinews spread,
+Which madly hurries her she knows not whither:
+This way runs, and now she will no further,
+But back retires to rate the boar for murther.
+
+A thousand spleens bear her a thousand ways;
+She treads the path that she untreads again;
+Her more than haste is mated with delays,
+Like the proceedings of a drunken brain,
+Full of respects, yet nought at all respecting;
+In hand with all things, nought at all effecting.
+
+Here kennell'd in a brake she finds a hound,
+And asks the weary caitiff for his master,
+And there another licking of his wound,
+'Gainst venom'd sores the only sovereign plaster;
+And here she meets another sadly scowling,
+To whom she speaks, and he replies with howling.
+
+When he hath ceased his ill-resounding noise,
+Another flap-mouth'd mourner, black and grim,
+Against the welkin volleys out his voice;
+Another and another answer him,
+Clapping their proud tails to the ground below,
+Shaking their scratch'd ears, bleeding as they go.
+
+Look, how the world's poor people are amazed
+At apparitions, signs and prodigies,
+Whereon with fearful eyes they long have gazed,
+Infusing them with dreadful prophecies;
+So she at these sad signs draws up her breath
+And sighing it again, exclaims on Death.
+
+'Hard-favour'd tyrant, ugly, meagre, lean,
+Hateful divorce of love,'--thus chides she Death,--
+'Grim-grinning ghost, earth's worm, what dost thou mean
+To stifle beauty and to steal his breath,
+Who when he lived, his breath and beauty set
+Gloss on the rose, smell to the violet?
+
+'If he be dead,--O no, it cannot be,
+Seeing his beauty, thou shouldst strike at it:--
+O yes, it may; thou hast no eyes to see,
+But hatefully at random dost thou hit.
+Thy mark is feeble age, but thy false dart
+Mistakes that aim and cleaves an infant's heart.
+
+'Hadst thou but bid beware, then he had spoke,
+And, hearing him, thy power had lost his power.
+The Destinies will curse thee for this stroke;
+They bid thee crop a weed, thou pluck'st a flower:
+Love's golden arrow at him should have fled,
+And not Death's ebon dart, to strike dead.
+
+'Dost thou drink tears, that thou provokest such weeping?
+What may a heavy groan advantage thee?
+Why hast thou cast into eternal sleeping
+Those eyes that taught all other eyes to see?
+Now Nature cares not for thy mortal vigour,
+Since her best work is ruin'd with thy rigour.'
+
+Here overcome, as one full of despair,
+She vail'd her eyelids, who, like sluices, stopt
+The crystal tide that from her two cheeks fair
+In the sweet channel of her bosom dropt;
+But through the flood-gates breaks the silver rain,
+And with his strong course opens them again.
+
+O, how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow!
+Her eyes seen in the tears, tears in her eye;
+Both crystals, where they view'd each other's sorrow,
+Sorrow that friendly sighs sought still to dry;
+But like a stormy day, now wind, now rain,
+Sighs dry her cheeks, tears make them wet again.
+
+Variable passions throng her constant woe,
+As striving who should best become her grief;
+All entertain'd, each passion labours so,
+That every present sorrow seemeth chief,
+But none is best: then join they all together,
+Like many clouds consulting for foul weather.
+
+By this, far off she hears some huntsman hollo;
+A nurse's song ne'er pleased her babe so well:
+The dire imagination she did follow
+This sound of hope doth labour to expel;
+For now reviving joy bids her rejoice,
+And flatters her it is Adonis' voice.
+
+Whereat her tears began to turn their tide,
+Being prison'd in her eye like pearls in glass;
+Yet sometimes falls an orient drop beside,
+Which her cheek melts, as scorning it should pass,
+To wash the foul face of the sluttish ground,
+Who is but drunken when she seemeth drown'd.
+
+O hard-believing love, how strange it seems
+Not to believe, and yet too credulous!
+Thy weal and woe are both of them extremes;
+Despair and hope makes thee ridiculous:
+The one doth flatter thee in thoughts unlikely,
+In likely thoughts the other kills thee quickly.
+
+Now she unweaves the web that she hath wrought;
+Adonis lives, and Death is not to blame;
+It was not she that call'd him, all-to naught:
+Now she adds honours to his hateful name;
+She clepes him king of graves and grave for kings,
+Imperious supreme of all mortal things.
+
+'No, no,' quoth she, 'sweet Death, I did but jest;
+Yet pardon me I felt a kind of fear
+When as I met the boar, that bloody beast,
+Which knows no pity, but is still severe;
+Then, gentle shadow,--truth I must confess,--
+I rail'd on thee, fearing my love's decease.
+
+''Tis not my fault: the boar provoked my tongue;
+Be wreak'd on him, invisible commander;
+'Tis he, foul creature, that hath done thee wrong;
+I did but act, he's author of thy slander:
+Grief hath two tongues, and never woman yet
+Could rule them both without ten women's wit.'
+
+Thus hoping that Adonis is alive,
+Her rash suspect she doth extenuate;
+And that his beauty may the better thrive,
+With Death she humbly doth insinuate;
+Tells him of trophies, statues, tombs, and stories
+His victories, his triumphs and his glories.
+
+'O Jove,' quoth she, 'how much a fool was I
+To be of such a weak and silly mind
+To wail his death who lives and must not die
+Till mutual overthrow of mortal kind!
+For he being dead, with him is beauty slain,
+And, beauty dead, black chaos comes again.
+
+'Fie, fie, fond love, thou art so full of fear
+As one with treasure laden, hemm'd thieves;
+Trifles, unwitnessed with eye or ear,
+Thy coward heart with false bethinking grieves.'
+Even at this word she hears a merry horn,
+Whereat she leaps that was but late forlorn.
+
+As falcon to the lure, away she flies;
+The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light;
+And in her haste unfortunately spies
+The foul boar's conquest on her fair delight;
+Which seen, her eyes, as murder'd with the view,
+Like stars ashamed of day, themselves withdrew;
+
+Or, as the snail, whose tender horns being hit,
+Shrinks backward in his shelly cave with pain,
+And there, all smother'd up, in shade doth sit,
+Long after fearing to creep forth again;
+So, at his bloody view, her eyes are fled
+Into the deep dark cabins of her head:
+
+Where they resign their office and their light
+To the disposing of her troubled brain;
+Who bids them still consort with ugly night,
+And never wound the heart with looks again;
+Who like a king perplexed in his throne,
+By their suggestion gives a deadly groan,
+
+Whereat each tributary subject quakes;
+As when the wind, imprison'd in the ground,
+Struggling for passage, earth's foundation shakes,
+Which with cold terror doth men's minds confound.
+This mutiny each part doth so surprise
+That from their dark beds once more leap her eyes;
+
+And, being open'd, threw unwilling light
+Upon the wide wound that the boar had trench'd
+In his soft flank; whose wonted lily white
+With purple tears, that his wound wept, was drench'd:
+No flower was nigh, no grass, herb, leaf, or weed,
+But stole his blood and seem'd with him to bleed.
+
+This solemn sympathy poor Venus noteth;
+Over one shoulder doth she hang her head;
+Dumbly she passions, franticly she doteth;
+She thinks he could not die, he is not dead:
+Her voice is stopt, her joints forget to bow;
+Her eyes are mad that they have wept til now.
+
+Upon his hurt she looks so steadfastly,
+That her sight dazzling makes the wound seem three;
+And then she reprehends her mangling eye,
+That makes more gashes where no breach should be:
+His face seems twain, each several limb is doubled;
+For oft the eye mistakes, the brain being troubled.
+
+'My tongue cannot express my grief for one,
+And yet,' quoth she, 'behold two Adons dead!
+My sighs are blown away, my salt tears gone,
+Mine eyes are turn'd to fire, my heart to lead:
+Heavy heart's lead, melt at mine eyes' red fire!
+So shall I die by drops of hot desire.
+
+'Alas, poor world, what treasure hast thou lost!
+What face remains alive that's worth the viewing?
+Whose tongue is music now? what canst thou boast
+Of things long since, or any thing ensuing?
+The flowers are sweet, their colours fresh and trim;
+But true-sweet beauty lived and died with him.
+
+'Bonnet nor veil henceforth no creature wear!
+Nor sun nor wind will ever strive to kiss you:
+Having no fair to lose, you need not fear;
+The sun doth scorn you and the wind doth hiss you:
+But when Adonis lived, sun and sharp air
+Lurk'd like two thieves, to rob him of his fair:
+
+'And therefore would he put his bonnet on,
+Under whose brim the gaudy sun would peep;
+The wind would blow it off and, being gone,
+Play with his locks: then would Adonis weep;
+And straight, in pity of his tender years,
+They both would strive who first should dry his tears.
+
+'To see his face the lion walk'd along
+Behind some hedge, because he would not fear him;
+To recreate himself when he hath sung,
+The tiger would be tame and gently hear him;
+If he had spoke, the wolf would leave his prey
+And never fright the silly lamb that day.
+
+'When he beheld his shadow in the brook,
+The fishes spread on it their golden gills;
+When he was by, the birds such pleasure took,
+That some would sing, some other in their bills
+Would bring him mulberries and ripe-red cherries;
+He fed them with his sight, they him with berries.
+
+'But this foul, grim, and urchin-snouted boar,
+Whose downward eye still looketh for a grave,
+Ne'er saw the beauteous livery that he wore;
+Witness the entertainment that he gave:
+If he did see his face, why then I know
+He thought to kiss him, and hath kill'd him so.
+
+''Tis true, 'tis true; thus was Adonis slain:
+He ran upon the boar with his sharp spear,
+Who did not whet his teeth at him again,
+But by a kiss thought to persuade him there;
+And nuzzling in his flank, the loving swine
+Sheathed unaware the tusk in his soft groin.
+
+'Had I been tooth'd like him, I must confess,
+With kissing him I should have kill'd him first;
+But he is dead, and never did he bless
+My youth with his; the more am I accurst.'
+With this, she falleth in the place she stood,
+And stains her face with his congealed blood.
+
+She looks upon his lips, and they are pale;
+She takes him by the hand, and that is cold;
+She whispers in his ears a heavy tale,
+As if they heard the woeful words she told;
+She lifts the coffer-lids that close his eyes,
+Where, lo, two lamps, burnt out, in darkness lies;
+
+Two glasses, where herself herself beheld
+A thousand times, and now no more reflect;
+Their virtue lost, wherein they late excell'd,
+And every beauty robb'd of his effect:
+'Wonder of time,' quoth she, 'this is my spite,
+That, thou being dead, the day should yet be light.
+
+'Since thou art dead, lo, here I prophesy:
+Sorrow on love hereafter shall attend:
+It shall be waited on with jealousy,
+Find sweet beginning, but unsavoury end,
+Ne'er settled equally, but high or low,
+That all love's pleasure shall not match his woe.
+
+'It shall be fickle, false and full of fraud,
+Bud and be blasted in a breathing-while;
+The bottom poison, and the top o'erstraw'd
+With sweets that shall the truest sight beguile:
+The strongest body shall it make most weak,
+Strike the wise dumb and teach the fool to speak.
+
+'It shall be sparing and too full of riot,
+Teaching decrepit age to tread the measures;
+The staring ruffian shall it keep in quiet,
+Pluck down the rich, enrich the poor with treasures;
+It shall be raging-mad and silly-mild,
+Make the young old, the old become a child.
+
+'It shall suspect where is no cause of fear;
+It shall not fear where it should most mistrust;
+It shall be merciful and too severe,
+And most deceiving when it seems most just;
+Perverse it shall be where it shows most toward,
+Put fear to valour, courage to the coward.
+
+'It shall be cause of war and dire events,
+And set dissension 'twixt the son and sire;
+Subject and servile to all discontents,
+As dry combustious matter is to fire:
+Sith in his prime Death doth my love destroy,
+They that love best their loves shall not enjoy.'
+
+By this, the boy that by her side lay kill'd
+Was melted like a vapour from her sight,
+And in his blood that on the ground lay spill'd,
+A purple flower sprung up, chequer'd with white,
+Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood
+Which in round drops upon their whiteness stood.
+
+She bows her head, the new-sprung flower to smell,
+Comparing it to her Adonis' breath,
+And says, within her bosom it shall dwell,
+Since he himself is reft from her by death:
+She crops the stalk, and in the breach appears
+Green dropping sap, which she compares to tears.
+
+'Poor flower,' quoth she, 'this was thy fathers guise--
+Sweet issue of a more sweet-smelling sire--
+For every little grief to wet his eyes:
+To grow unto himself was his desire,
+And so 'tis thine; but know, it is as good
+To wither in my breast as in his blood.
+
+'Here was thy father's bed, here in my breast;
+Thou art the next of blood, and 'tis thy right:
+Lo, in this hollow cradle take thy rest,
+My throbbing heart shall rock thee day and night:
+There shall not be one minute in an hour
+Wherein I will not kiss my sweet love's flower.'
+
+Thus weary of the world, away she hies,
+And yokes her silver doves; by whose swift aid
+Their mistress mounted through the empty skies
+In her light chariot quickly is convey'd;
+Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen
+Means to immure herself and not be seen.
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+
+MARK ANTONY		|
+		|
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR		|  triumvirs.
+		|
+M. AEMILIUS		|
+LEPIDUS	(LEPIDUS:)	|
+
+
+SEXTUS POMPEIUS	(POMPEY:)
+
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	|
+	|
+VENTIDIUS	|
+	|
+EROS	|
+	|
+SCARUS	|  friends to Antony.
+	|
+DERCETAS	|
+	|
+DEMETRIUS	|
+	|
+PHILO	|
+
+
+MECAENAS	|
+	|
+AGRIPPA	|
+	|
+DOLABELLA	|
+	|
+PROCULEIUS	|  friends to Caesar.
+	|
+THYREUS	|
+	|
+GALLUS	|
+	|
+MENAS	|
+
+
+MENECRATES	|
+	|  friends to Pompey.
+VARRIUS	|
+
+
+TAURUS	lieutenant-general to Caesar.
+
+CANIDIUS	lieutenant-general to Antony.
+
+SILIUS	an officer in Ventidius's army.
+
+EUPHRONIUS	an ambassador from Antony to Caesar.
+
+	
+ALEXAS		|
+		|
+MARDIAN	a Eunuch.	|
+		|  attendants on Cleopatra.
+SELEUCUS		|
+		|
+DIOMEDES		|
+
+
+	A Soothsayer. (Soothsayer:)
+
+	A Clown. (Clown:)
+
+CLEOPATRA	queen of Egypt.
+
+OCTAVIA	sister to Caesar and wife to Antony.
+
+
+CHARMIAN	|
+	|  attendants on Cleopatra.
+IRAS	|
+
+
+	Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.
+	(First Officer:)
+	(Second Officer:)
+	(Third Officer:)
+	(Messenger:)
+	(Second Messenger:)
+	(First Servant:)
+	(Second Servant:)
+	(Egyptian:)
+	(Guard:)
+	(First Guard:)
+	(Second Guard:)
+	(Attendant:)
+	(First Attendant:)
+	(Second Attendant:)
+
+
+
+SCENE	In several parts of the Roman empire.
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Alexandria. A room in CLEOPATRA's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO]
+
+PHILO	Nay, but this dotage of our general's
+	O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes,
+	That o'er the files and musters of the war
+	Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn,
+	The office and devotion of their view
+	Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart,
+	Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst
+	The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper,
+	And is become the bellows and the fan
+	To cool a gipsy's lust.
+
+	[Flourish. Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, her Ladies,
+	the Train, with Eunuchs fanning her]
+
+		  Look, where they come:
+	Take but good note, and you shall see in him.
+	The triple pillar of the world transform'd
+	Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see.
+
+CLEOPATRA	If it be love indeed, tell me how much.
+
+MARK ANTONY	There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.
+
+CLEOPATRA	I'll set a bourn how far to be beloved.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.
+
+	[Enter an Attendant]
+
+Attendant	News, my good lord, from Rome.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Grates me: the sum.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Nay, hear them, Antony:
+	Fulvia perchance is angry; or, who knows
+	If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent
+	His powerful mandate to you, 'Do this, or this;
+	Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that;
+	Perform 't, or else we damn thee.'
+
+MARK ANTONY	How, my love!
+
+CLEOPATRA	Perchance! nay, and most like:
+	You must not stay here longer, your dismission
+	Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony.
+	Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's I would say? both?
+	Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's queen,
+	Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine
+	Is Caesar's homager: else so thy cheek pays shame
+	When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers!
+
+MARK ANTONY	Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch
+	Of the ranged empire fall! Here is my space.
+	Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alike
+	Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life
+	Is to do thus; when such a mutual pair
+
+	[Embracing]
+
+	And such a twain can do't, in which I bind,
+	On pain of punishment, the world to weet
+	We stand up peerless.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Excellent falsehood!
+	Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?
+	I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony
+	Will be himself.
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  But stirr'd by Cleopatra.
+	Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours,
+	Let's not confound the time with conference harsh:
+	There's not a minute of our lives should stretch
+	Without some pleasure now. What sport tonight?
+
+CLEOPATRA	Hear the ambassadors.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Fie, wrangling queen!
+	Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,
+	To weep; whose every passion fully strives
+	To make itself, in thee, fair and admired!
+	No messenger, but thine; and all alone
+	To-night we'll wander through the streets and note
+	The qualities of people. Come, my queen;
+	Last night you did desire it: speak not to us.
+
+	[Exeunt MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA with
+	their train]
+
+DEMETRIUS	Is Caesar with Antonius prized so slight?
+
+PHILO	Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony,
+	He comes too short of that great property
+	Which still should go with Antony.
+
+DEMETRIUS	I am full sorry
+	That he approves the common liar, who
+	Thus speaks of him at Rome: but I will hope
+	Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. Another room.
+
+
+	[Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a Soothsayer]
+
+CHARMIAN	Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas,
+	almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer
+	that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew
+	this husband, which, you say, must charge his horns
+	with garlands!
+
+ALEXAS	Soothsayer!
+
+Soothsayer	Your will?
+
+CHARMIAN	Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that know things?
+
+Soothsayer	In nature's infinite book of secrecy
+	A little I can read.
+
+ALEXAS	Show him your hand.
+
+	[Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough
+	Cleopatra's health to drink.
+
+CHARMIAN	Good sir, give me good fortune.
+
+Soothsayer	I make not, but foresee.
+
+CHARMIAN	Pray, then, foresee me one.
+
+Soothsayer	You shall be yet far fairer than you are.
+
+CHARMIAN	He means in flesh.
+
+IRAS	No, you shall paint when you are old.
+
+CHARMIAN	Wrinkles forbid!
+
+ALEXAS	Vex not his prescience; be attentive.
+
+CHARMIAN	Hush!
+
+Soothsayer	You shall be more beloving than beloved.
+
+CHARMIAN	I had rather heat my liver with drinking.
+
+ALEXAS	Nay, hear him.
+
+CHARMIAN	Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married
+	to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all:
+	let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry
+	may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius
+	Caesar, and companion me with my mistress.
+
+Soothsayer	You shall outlive the lady whom you serve.
+
+CHARMIAN	O excellent! I love long life better than figs.
+
+Soothsayer	You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune
+	Than that which is to approach.
+
+CHARMIAN	Then belike my children shall have no names:
+	prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have?
+
+Soothsayer	If every of your wishes had a womb.
+	And fertile every wish, a million.
+
+CHARMIAN	Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch.
+
+ALEXAS	You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes.
+
+CHARMIAN	Nay, come, tell Iras hers.
+
+ALEXAS	We'll know all our fortunes.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall
+	be--drunk to bed.
+
+IRAS	There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else.
+
+CHARMIAN	E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine.
+
+IRAS	Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay.
+
+CHARMIAN	Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful
+	prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee,
+	tell her but a worky-day fortune.
+
+Soothsayer	Your fortunes are alike.
+
+IRAS	But how, but how? give me particulars.
+
+Soothsayer	I have said.
+
+IRAS	Am I not an inch of fortune better than she?
+
+CHARMIAN	Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than
+	I, where would you choose it?
+
+IRAS	Not in my husband's nose.
+
+CHARMIAN	Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas,--come,
+	his fortune, his fortune! O, let him marry a woman
+	that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! and let
+	her die too, and give him a worse! and let worst
+	follow worse, till the worst of all follow him
+	laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good
+	Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a
+	matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee!
+
+IRAS	Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people!
+	for, as it is a heartbreaking to see a handsome man
+	loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a
+	foul knave uncuckolded: therefore, dear Isis, keep
+	decorum, and fortune him accordingly!
+
+CHARMIAN	Amen.
+
+ALEXAS	Lo, now, if it lay in their hands to make me a
+	cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but
+	they'ld do't!
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Hush! here comes Antony.
+
+CHARMIAN	Not he; the queen.
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Saw you my lord?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	                  No, lady.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Was he not here?
+
+CHARMIAN	No, madam.
+
+CLEOPATRA	He was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden
+	A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus!
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Madam?
+
+CLEOPATRA	Seek him, and bring him hither.
+	Where's Alexas?
+
+ALEXAS	Here, at your service. My lord approaches.
+
+CLEOPATRA	We will not look upon him: go with us.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY with a Messenger and Attendants]
+
+Messenger	Fulvia thy wife first came into the field.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Against my brother Lucius?
+
+Messenger	Ay:
+	But soon that war had end, and the time's state
+	Made friends of them, joining their force 'gainst Caesar;
+	Whose better issue in the war, from Italy,
+	Upon the first encounter, drave them.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Well, what worst?
+
+Messenger	The nature of bad news infects the teller.
+
+MARK ANTONY	When it concerns the fool or coward. On:
+	Things that are past are done with me. 'Tis thus:
+	Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death,
+	I hear him as he flatter'd.
+
+Messenger	Labienus--
+	This is stiff news--hath, with his Parthian force,
+	Extended Asia from Euphrates;
+	His conquering banner shook from Syria
+	To Lydia and to Ionia; Whilst--
+
+MARK ANTONY	Antony, thou wouldst say,--
+
+Messenger	O, my lord!
+
+MARK ANTONY	Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue:
+	Name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome;
+	Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults
+	With such full licence as both truth and malice
+	Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds,
+	When our quick minds lie still; and our ills told us
+	Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile.
+
+Messenger	At your noble pleasure.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MARK ANTONY	From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there!
+
+First Attendant	The man from Sicyon,--is there such an one?
+
+Second Attendant	He stays upon your will.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Let him appear.
+	These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,
+	Or lose myself in dotage.
+
+	[Enter another Messenger]
+
+		    What are you?
+
+Second Messenger	Fulvia thy wife is dead.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Where died she?
+
+Second Messenger	In Sicyon:
+	Her length of sickness, with what else more serious
+	Importeth thee to know, this bears.
+
+	[Gives a letter]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Forbear me.
+
+	[Exit Second Messenger]
+
+	There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it:
+	What our contempt doth often hurl from us,
+	We wish it ours again; the present pleasure,
+	By revolution lowering, does become
+	The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone;
+	The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on.
+	I must from this enchanting queen break off:
+	Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
+	My idleness doth hatch. How now! Enobarbus!
+
+	[Re-enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	What's your pleasure, sir?
+
+MARK ANTONY	I must with haste from hence.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Why, then, we kill all our women:
+	we see how mortal an unkindness is to them;
+	if they suffer our departure, death's the word.
+
+MARK ANTONY	I must be gone.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Under a compelling occasion, let women die; it were
+	pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between
+	them and a great cause, they should be esteemed
+	nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of
+	this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty
+	times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is
+	mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon
+	her, she hath such a celerity in dying.
+
+MARK ANTONY	She is cunning past man's thought.
+
+	[Exit ALEXAS]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but
+	the finest part of pure love: we cannot call her
+	winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater
+	storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this
+	cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a
+	shower of rain as well as Jove.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Would I had never seen her.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece
+	of work; which not to have been blest withal would
+	have discredited your travel.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Fulvia is dead.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Sir?
+
+MARK ANTONY	Fulvia is dead.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Fulvia!
+
+MARK ANTONY	Dead.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When
+	it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man
+	from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth;
+	comforting therein, that when old robes are worn
+	out, there are members to make new. If there were
+	no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut,
+	and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned
+	with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new
+	petticoat: and indeed the tears live in an onion
+	that should water this sorrow.
+
+MARK ANTONY	The business she hath broached in the state
+	Cannot endure my absence.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	And the business you have broached here cannot be
+	without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which
+	wholly depends on your abode.
+
+MARK ANTONY	No more light answers. Let our officers
+	Have notice what we purpose. I shall break
+	The cause of our expedience to the queen,
+	And get her leave to part. For not alone
+	The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches,
+	Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too
+	Of many our contriving friends in Rome
+	Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius
+	Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands
+	The empire of the sea: our slippery people,
+	Whose love is never link'd to the deserver
+	Till his deserts are past, begin to throw
+	Pompey the Great and all his dignities
+	Upon his son; who, high in name and power,
+	Higher than both in blood and life, stands up
+	For the main soldier: whose quality, going on,
+	The sides o' the world may danger: much is breeding,
+	Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life,
+	And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure,
+	To such whose place is under us, requires
+	Our quick remove from hence.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I shall do't.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. Another room.
+
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Where is he?
+
+CHARMIAN	                  I did not see him since.
+
+CLEOPATRA	See where he is, who's with him, what he does:
+	I did not send you: if you find him sad,
+	Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report
+	That I am sudden sick: quick, and return.
+
+	[Exit ALEXAS]
+
+CHARMIAN	Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly,
+	You do not hold the method to enforce
+	The like from him.
+
+CLEOPATRA	                  What should I do, I do not?
+
+CHARMIAN	In each thing give him way, cross him nothing.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Thou teachest like a fool; the way to lose him.
+
+CHARMIAN	Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear:
+	In time we hate that which we often fear.
+	But here comes Antony.
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY]
+
+CLEOPATRA	I am sick and sullen.
+
+MARK ANTONY	I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall:
+	It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature
+	Will not sustain it.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Now, my dearest queen,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	Pray you, stand further from me.
+
+MARK ANTONY	What's the matter?
+
+CLEOPATRA	I know, by that same eye, there's some good news.
+	What says the married woman? You may go:
+	Would she had never given you leave to come!
+	Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here:
+	I have no power upon you; hers you are.
+
+MARK ANTONY	The gods best know,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	O, never was there queen
+	So mightily betray'd! yet at the first
+	I saw the treasons planted.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Cleopatra,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	Why should I think you can be mine and true,
+	Though you in swearing shake the throned gods,
+	Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness,
+	To be entangled with those mouth-made vows,
+	Which break themselves in swearing!
+
+MARK ANTONY	Most sweet queen,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going,
+	But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying,
+	Then was the time for words: no going then;
+	Eternity was in our lips and eyes,
+	Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor,
+	But was a race of heaven: they are so still,
+	Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,
+	Art turn'd the greatest liar.
+
+MARK ANTONY	How now, lady!
+
+CLEOPATRA	I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know
+	There were a heart in Egypt.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Hear me, queen:
+	The strong necessity of time commands
+	Our services awhile; but my full heart
+	Remains in use with you. Our Italy
+	Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius
+	Makes his approaches to the port of Rome:
+	Equality of two domestic powers
+	Breed scrupulous faction: the hated, grown to strength,
+	Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey,
+	Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace,
+	Into the hearts of such as have not thrived
+	Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;
+	And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge
+	By any desperate change: my more particular,
+	And that which most with you should safe my going,
+	Is Fulvia's death.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Though age from folly could not give me freedom,
+	It does from childishness: can Fulvia die?
+
+MARK ANTONY	She's dead, my queen:
+	Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read
+	The garboils she awaked; at the last, best:
+	See when and where she died.
+
+CLEOPATRA	O most false love!
+	Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill
+	With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,
+	In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know
+	The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,
+	As you shall give the advice. By the fire
+	That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence
+	Thy soldier, servant; making peace or war
+	As thou affect'st.
+
+CLEOPATRA	                  Cut my lace, Charmian, come;
+	But let it be: I am quickly ill, and well,
+	So Antony loves.
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  My precious queen, forbear;
+	And give true evidence to his love, which stands
+	An honourable trial.
+
+CLEOPATRA	So Fulvia told me.
+	I prithee, turn aside and weep for her,
+	Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears
+	Belong to Egypt: good now, play one scene
+	Of excellent dissembling; and let it look
+	Life perfect honour.
+
+MARK ANTONY	You'll heat my blood: no more.
+
+CLEOPATRA	You can do better yet; but this is meetly.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Now, by my sword,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	And target. Still he mends;
+	But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian,
+	How this Herculean Roman does become
+	The carriage of his chafe.
+
+MARK ANTONY	I'll leave you, lady.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Courteous lord, one word.
+	Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it:
+	Sir, you and I have loved, but there's not it;
+	That you know well: something it is I would,
+	O, my oblivion is a very Antony,
+	And I am all forgotten.
+
+MARK ANTONY	But that your royalty
+	Holds idleness your subject, I should take you
+	For idleness itself.
+
+CLEOPATRA	'Tis sweating labour
+	To bear such idleness so near the heart
+	As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me;
+	Since my becomings kill me, when they do not
+	Eye well to you: your honour calls you hence;
+	Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly.
+	And all the gods go with you! upon your sword
+	Sit laurel victory! and smooth success
+	Be strew'd before your feet!
+
+MARK ANTONY	Let us go. Come;
+	Our separation so abides, and flies,
+	That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me,
+	And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. Away!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house.
+
+
+	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, reading a letter, LEPIDUS,
+	and their Train]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know,
+	It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate
+	Our great competitor: from Alexandria
+	This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes
+	The lamps of night in revel; is not more man-like
+	Than Cleopatra; nor the queen of Ptolemy
+	More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or
+	Vouchsafed to think he had partners: you shall find there
+	A man who is the abstract of all faults
+	That all men follow.
+
+LEPIDUS	I must not think there are
+	Evils enow to darken all his goodness:
+	His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven,
+	More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary,
+	Rather than purchased; what he cannot change,
+	Than what he chooses.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You are too indulgent. Let us grant, it is not
+	Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy;
+	To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit
+	And keep the turn of tippling with a slave;
+	To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet
+	With knaves that smell of sweat: say this
+	becomes him,--
+	As his composure must be rare indeed
+	Whom these things cannot blemish,--yet must Antony
+	No way excuse his soils, when we do bear
+	So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd
+	His vacancy with his voluptuousness,
+	Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones,
+	Call on him for't: but to confound such time,
+	That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud
+	As his own state and ours,--'tis to be chid
+	As we rate boys, who, being mature in knowledge,
+	Pawn their experience to their present pleasure,
+	And so rebel to judgment.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+LEPIDUS	Here's more news.
+
+Messenger	Thy biddings have been done; and every hour,
+	Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report
+	How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea;
+	And it appears he is beloved of those
+	That only have fear'd Caesar: to the ports
+	The discontents repair, and men's reports
+	Give him much wrong'd.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	I should have known no less.
+	It hath been taught us from the primal state,
+	That he which is was wish'd until he were;
+	And the ebb'd man, ne'er loved till ne'er worth love,
+	Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body,
+	Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream,
+	Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide,
+	To rot itself with motion.
+
+Messenger	Caesar, I bring thee word,
+	Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,
+	Make the sea serve them, which they ear and wound
+	With keels of every kind: many hot inroads
+	They make in Italy; the borders maritime
+	Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt:
+	No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon
+	Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more
+	Than could his war resisted.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Antony,
+	Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once
+	Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st
+	Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel
+	Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against,
+	Though daintily brought up, with patience more
+	Than savages could suffer: thou didst drink
+	The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle
+	Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did deign
+	The roughest berry on the rudest hedge;
+	Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets,
+	The barks of trees thou browsed'st; on the Alps
+	It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh,
+	Which some did die to look on: and all this--
+	It wounds thine honour that I speak it now--
+	Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek
+	So much as lank'd not.
+
+LEPIDUS	'Tis pity of him.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Let his shames quickly
+	Drive him to Rome: 'tis time we twain
+	Did show ourselves i' the field; and to that end
+	Assemble we immediate council: Pompey
+	Thrives in our idleness.
+
+LEPIDUS	To-morrow, Caesar,
+	I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly
+	Both what by sea and land I can be able
+	To front this present time.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Till which encounter,
+	It is my business too. Farewell.
+
+LEPIDUS	Farewell, my lord: what you shall know meantime
+	Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,
+	To let me be partaker.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Doubt not, sir;
+	I knew it for my bond.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Charmian!
+
+CHARMIAN	Madam?
+
+CLEOPATRA	Ha, ha!
+	Give me to drink mandragora.
+
+CHARMIAN	Why, madam?
+
+CLEOPATRA	That I might sleep out this great gap of time
+	My Antony is away.
+
+CHARMIAN	                  You think of him too much.
+
+CLEOPATRA	O, 'tis treason!
+
+CHARMIAN	                  Madam, I trust, not so.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Thou, eunuch Mardian!
+
+MARDIAN	What's your highness' pleasure?
+
+CLEOPATRA	Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure
+	In aught an eunuch has: 'tis well for thee,
+	That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts
+	May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?
+
+MARDIAN	Yes, gracious madam.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Indeed!
+
+MARDIAN	Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing
+	But what indeed is honest to be done:
+	Yet have I fierce affections, and think
+	What Venus did with Mars.
+
+CLEOPATRA	O Charmian,
+	Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he?
+	Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?
+	O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!
+	Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou movest?
+	The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm
+	And burgonet of men. He's speaking now,
+	Or murmuring 'Where's my serpent of old Nile?'
+	For so he calls me: now I feed myself
+	With most delicious poison. Think on me,
+	That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black,
+	And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar,
+	When thou wast here above the ground, I was
+	A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey
+	Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow;
+	There would he anchor his aspect and die
+	With looking on his life.
+
+	[Enter ALEXAS, from OCTAVIUS CAESAR]
+
+ALEXAS	Sovereign of Egypt, hail!
+
+CLEOPATRA	How much unlike art thou Mark Antony!
+	Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath
+	With his tinct gilded thee.
+	How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?
+
+ALEXAS	Last thing he did, dear queen,
+	He kiss'd,--the last of many doubled kisses,--
+	This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Mine ear must pluck it thence.
+
+ALEXAS	'Good friend,' quoth he,
+	'Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends
+	This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot,
+	To mend the petty present, I will piece
+	Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the east,
+	Say thou, shall call her mistress.' So he nodded,
+	And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed,
+	Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke
+	Was beastly dumb'd by him.
+
+CLEOPATRA	What, was he sad or merry?
+
+ALEXAS	Like to the time o' the year between the extremes
+	Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry.
+
+CLEOPATRA	O well-divided disposition! Note him,
+	Note him good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him:
+	He was not sad, for he would shine on those
+	That make their looks by his; he was not merry,
+	Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay
+	In Egypt with his joy; but between both:
+	O heavenly mingle! Be'st thou sad or merry,
+	The violence of either thee becomes,
+	So does it no man else. Met'st thou my posts?
+
+ALEXAS	Ay, madam, twenty several messengers:
+	Why do you send so thick?
+
+CLEOPATRA	Who's born that day
+	When I forget to send to Antony,
+	Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian.
+	Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian,
+	Ever love Caesar so?
+
+CHARMIAN	O that brave Caesar!
+
+CLEOPATRA	Be choked with such another emphasis!
+	Say, the brave Antony.
+
+CHARMIAN	The valiant Caesar!
+
+CLEOPATRA	By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth,
+	If thou with Caesar paragon again
+	My man of men.
+
+CHARMIAN	                  By your most gracious pardon,
+	I sing but after you.
+
+CLEOPATRA	My salad days,
+	When I was green in judgment: cold in blood,
+	To say as I said then! But, come, away;
+	Get me ink and paper:
+	He shall have every day a several greeting,
+	Or I'll unpeople Egypt.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Messina. POMPEY's house.
+
+
+	[Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS, in
+	warlike manner]
+
+POMPEY	If the great gods be just, they shall assist
+	The deeds of justest men.
+
+MENECRATES	Know, worthy Pompey,
+	That what they do delay, they not deny.
+
+POMPEY	Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays
+	The thing we sue for.
+
+MENECRATES	We, ignorant of ourselves,
+	Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers
+	Deny us for our good; so find we profit
+	By losing of our prayers.
+
+POMPEY	I shall do well:
+	The people love me, and the sea is mine;
+	My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope
+	Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony
+	In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make
+	No wars without doors: Caesar gets money where
+	He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both,
+	Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves,
+	Nor either cares for him.
+
+MENAS	Caesar and Lepidus
+	Are in the field: a mighty strength they carry.
+
+POMPEY	Where have you this? 'tis false.
+
+MENAS	From Silvius, sir.
+
+POMPEY	He dreams: I know they are in Rome together,
+	Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love,
+	Salt Cleopatra, soften thy waned lip!
+	Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both!
+	Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts,
+	Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks
+	Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite;
+	That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour
+	Even till a Lethe'd dulness!
+
+	[Enter VARRIUS]
+
+		       How now, Varrius!
+
+VARRIUS	This is most certain that I shall deliver:
+	Mark Antony is every hour in Rome
+	Expected: since he went from Egypt 'tis
+	A space for further travel.
+
+POMPEY	I could have given less matter
+	A better ear. Menas, I did not think
+	This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his helm
+	For such a petty war: his soldiership
+	Is twice the other twain: but let us rear
+	The higher our opinion, that our stirring
+	Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck
+	The ne'er-lust-wearied Antony.
+
+MENAS	I cannot hope
+	Caesar and Antony shall well greet together:
+	His wife that's dead did trespasses to Caesar;
+	His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think,
+	Not moved by Antony.
+
+POMPEY	I know not, Menas,
+	How lesser enmities may give way to greater.
+	Were't not that we stand up against them all,
+	'Twere pregnant they should square between
+	themselves;
+	For they have entertained cause enough
+	To draw their swords: but how the fear of us
+	May cement their divisions and bind up
+	The petty difference, we yet not know.
+	Be't as our gods will have't! It only stands
+	Our lives upon to use our strongest hands.
+	Come, Menas.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Rome. The house of LEPIDUS.
+
+
+	[Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and LEPIDUS]
+
+LEPIDUS	Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed,
+	And shall become you well, to entreat your captain
+	To soft and gentle speech.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I shall entreat him
+	To answer like himself: if Caesar move him,
+	Let Antony look over Caesar's head
+	And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter,
+	Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard,
+	I would not shave't to-day.
+
+LEPIDUS	'Tis not a time
+	For private stomaching.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Every time
+	Serves for the matter that is then born in't.
+
+LEPIDUS	But small to greater matters must give way.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Not if the small come first.
+
+LEPIDUS	Your speech is passion:
+	But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes
+	The noble Antony.
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY and VENTIDIUS]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	                  And yonder, Caesar.
+
+	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA]
+
+MARK ANTONY	If we compose well here, to Parthia:
+	Hark, Ventidius.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  I do not know,
+	Mecaenas; ask Agrippa.
+
+LEPIDUS	Noble friends,
+	That which combined us was most great, and let not
+	A leaner action rend us. What's amiss,
+	May it be gently heard: when we debate
+	Our trivial difference loud, we do commit
+	Murder in healing wounds: then, noble partners,
+	The rather, for I earnestly beseech,
+	Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms,
+	Nor curstness grow to the matter.
+
+MARK ANTONY	'Tis spoken well.
+	Were we before our armies, and to fight.
+	I should do thus.
+
+	[Flourish]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Welcome to Rome.
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  Thank you.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Sit.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Sit, sir.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Nay, then.
+
+MARK ANTONY	I learn, you take things ill which are not so,
+	Or being, concern you not.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	I must be laugh'd at,
+	If, or for nothing or a little, I
+	Should say myself offended, and with you
+	Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at, that I should
+	Once name you derogately, when to sound your name
+	It not concern'd me.
+
+MARK ANTONY	My being in Egypt, Caesar,
+	What was't to you?
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	No more than my residing here at Rome
+	Might be to you in Egypt: yet, if you there
+	Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt
+	Might be my question.
+
+MARK ANTONY	How intend you, practised?
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You may be pleased to catch at mine intent
+	By what did here befal me. Your wife and brother
+	Made wars upon me; and their contestation
+	Was theme for you, you were the word of war.
+
+MARK ANTONY	You do mistake your business; my brother never
+	Did urge me in his act: I did inquire it;
+	And have my learning from some true reports,
+	That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather
+	Discredit my authority with yours;
+	And make the wars alike against my stomach,
+	Having alike your cause? Of this my letters
+	Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel,
+	As matter whole you have not to make it with,
+	It must not be with this.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You praise yourself
+	By laying defects of judgment to me; but
+	You patch'd up your excuses.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Not so, not so;
+	I know you could not lack, I am certain on't,
+	Very necessity of this thought, that I,
+	Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought,
+	Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars
+	Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife,
+	I would you had her spirit in such another:
+	The third o' the world is yours; which with a snaffle
+	You may pace easy, but not such a wife.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Would we had all such wives, that the men might go
+	to wars with the women!
+
+MARK ANTONY	So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar
+	Made out of her impatience, which not wanted
+	Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant
+	Did you too much disquiet: for that you must
+	But say, I could not help it.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	I wrote to you
+	When rioting in Alexandria; you
+	Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts
+	Did gibe my missive out of audience.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Sir,
+	He fell upon me ere admitted: then
+	Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want
+	Of what I was i' the morning: but next day
+	I told him of myself; which was as much
+	As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow
+	Be nothing of our strife; if we contend,
+	Out of our question wipe him.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You have broken
+	The article of your oath; which you shall never
+	Have tongue to charge me with.
+
+LEPIDUS	Soft, Caesar!
+
+MARK ANTONY	No,
+	Lepidus, let him speak:
+	The honour is sacred which he talks on now,
+	Supposing that I lack'd it. But, on, Caesar;
+	The article of my oath.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	To lend me arms and aid when I required them;
+	The which you both denied.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Neglected, rather;
+	And then when poison'd hours had bound me up
+	From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may,
+	I'll play the penitent to you: but mine honesty
+	Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power
+	Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia,
+	To have me out of Egypt, made wars here;
+	For which myself, the ignorant motive, do
+	So far ask pardon as befits mine honour
+	To stoop in such a case.
+
+LEPIDUS	'Tis noble spoken.
+
+MECAENAS	If it might please you, to enforce no further
+	The griefs between ye: to forget them quite
+	Were to remember that the present need
+	Speaks to atone you.
+
+LEPIDUS	Worthily spoken, Mecaenas.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Or, if you borrow one another's love for the
+	instant, you may, when you hear no more words of
+	Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to
+	wrangle in when you have nothing else to do.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Thou art a soldier only: speak no more.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	That truth should be silent I had almost forgot.
+
+MARK ANTONY	You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Go to, then; your considerate stone.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	I do not much dislike the matter, but
+	The manner of his speech; for't cannot be
+	We shall remain in friendship, our conditions
+	So differing in their acts. Yet if I knew
+	What hoop should hold us stanch, from edge to edge
+	O' the world I would pursue it.
+
+AGRIPPA	Give me leave, Caesar,--
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Speak, Agrippa.
+
+AGRIPPA	Thou hast a sister by the mother's side,
+	Admired Octavia: great Mark Antony
+	Is now a widower.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  Say not so, Agrippa:
+	If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof
+	Were well deserved of rashness.
+
+MARK ANTONY	I am not married, Caesar: let me hear
+	Agrippa further speak.
+
+AGRIPPA	To hold you in perpetual amity,
+	To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts
+	With an unslipping knot, take Antony
+	Octavia to his wife; whose beauty claims
+	No worse a husband than the best of men;
+	Whose virtue and whose general graces speak
+	That which none else can utter. By this marriage,
+	All little jealousies, which now seem great,
+	And all great fears, which now import their dangers,
+	Would then be nothing: truths would be tales,
+	Where now half tales be truths: her love to both
+	Would, each to other and all loves to both,
+	Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke;
+	For 'tis a studied, not a present thought,
+	By duty ruminated.
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  Will Caesar speak?
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd
+	With what is spoke already.
+
+MARK ANTONY	What power is in Agrippa,
+	If I would say, 'Agrippa, be it so,'
+	To make this good?
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  The power of Caesar, and
+	His power unto Octavia.
+
+MARK ANTONY	May I never
+	To this good purpose, that so fairly shows,
+	Dream of impediment! Let me have thy hand:
+	Further this act of grace: and from this hour
+	The heart of brothers govern in our loves
+	And sway our great designs!
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	There is my hand.
+	A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother
+	Did ever love so dearly: let her live
+	To join our kingdoms and our hearts; and never
+	Fly off our loves again!
+
+LEPIDUS	Happily, amen!
+
+MARK ANTONY	I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst Pompey;
+	For he hath laid strange courtesies and great
+	Of late upon me: I must thank him only,
+	Lest my remembrance suffer ill report;
+	At heel of that, defy him.
+
+LEPIDUS	Time calls upon's:
+	Of us must Pompey presently be sought,
+	Or else he seeks out us.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Where lies he?
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	About the mount Misenum.
+
+MARK ANTONY	What is his strength by land?
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Great and increasing: but by sea
+	He is an absolute master.
+
+MARK ANTONY	So is the fame.
+	Would we had spoke together! Haste we for it:
+	Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we
+	The business we have talk'd of.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	With most gladness:
+	And do invite you to my sister's view,
+	Whither straight I'll lead you.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Let us, Lepidus,
+	Not lack your company.
+
+LEPIDUS	Noble Antony,
+	Not sickness should detain me.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY,
+	and LEPIDUS]
+
+MECAENAS	Welcome from Egypt, sir.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Half the heart of Caesar, worthy Mecaenas! My
+	honourable friend, Agrippa!
+
+AGRIPPA	Good Enobarbus!
+
+MECAENAS	We have cause to be glad that matters are so well
+	digested. You stayed well by 't in Egypt.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance, and
+	made the night light with drinking.
+
+MECAENAS	Eight wild-boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and
+	but twelve persons there; is this true?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	This was but as a fly by an eagle: we had much more
+	monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting.
+
+MECAENAS	She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to
+	her.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up
+	his heart, upon the river of Cydnus.
+
+AGRIPPA	There she appeared indeed; or my reporter devised
+	well for her.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I will tell you.
+	The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
+	Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
+	Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
+	The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver,
+	Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
+	The water which they beat to follow faster,
+	As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
+	It beggar'd all description: she did lie
+	In her pavilion--cloth-of-gold of tissue--
+	O'er-picturing that Venus where we see
+	The fancy outwork nature: on each side her
+	Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
+	With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem
+	To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
+	And what they undid did.
+
+AGRIPPA	O, rare for Antony!
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides,
+	So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes,
+	And made their bends adornings: at the helm
+	A seeming mermaid steers: the silken tackle
+	Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands,
+	That yarely frame the office. From the barge
+	A strange invisible perfume hits the sense
+	Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast
+	Her people out upon her; and Antony,
+	Enthroned i' the market-place, did sit alone,
+	Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,
+	Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,
+	And made a gap in nature.
+
+AGRIPPA	Rare Egyptian!
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Upon her landing, Antony sent to her,
+	Invited her to supper: she replied,
+	It should be better he became her guest;
+	Which she entreated: our courteous Antony,
+	Whom ne'er the word of 'No' woman heard speak,
+	Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast,
+	And for his ordinary pays his heart
+	For what his eyes eat only.
+
+AGRIPPA	Royal wench!
+	She made great Caesar lay his sword to bed:
+	He plough'd her, and she cropp'd.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I saw her once
+	Hop forty paces through the public street;
+	And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted,
+	That she did make defect perfection,
+	And, breathless, power breathe forth.
+
+MECAENAS	Now Antony must leave her utterly.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Never; he will not:
+	Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
+	Her infinite variety: other women cloy
+	The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry
+	Where most she satisfies; for vilest things
+	Become themselves in her: that the holy priests
+	Bless her when she is riggish.
+
+MECAENAS	If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle
+	The heart of Antony, Octavia is
+	A blessed lottery to him.
+
+AGRIPPA	Let us go.
+	Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest
+	Whilst you abide here.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Humbly, sir, I thank you.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house.
+
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, OCTAVIA between
+	them, and Attendants]
+
+MARK ANTONY	The world and my great office will sometimes
+	Divide me from your bosom.
+
+OCTAVIA	All which time
+	Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers
+	To them for you.
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  Good night, sir. My Octavia,
+	Read not my blemishes in the world's report:
+	I have not kept my square; but that to come
+	Shall all be done by the rule. Good night, dear lady.
+	Good night, sir.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Good night.
+
+	[Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and OCTAVIA]
+
+	[Enter Soothsayer]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Now, sirrah; you do wish yourself in Egypt?
+
+Soothsayer	Would I had never come from thence, nor you Thither!
+
+MARK ANTONY	If you can, your reason?
+
+Soothsayer	I see it in
+	My motion, have it not in my tongue: but yet
+	Hie you to Egypt again.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Say to me,
+	Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Caesar's or mine?
+
+Soothsayer	Caesar's.
+	Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side:
+	Thy demon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is
+	Noble, courageous high, unmatchable,
+	Where Caesar's is not; but, near him, thy angel
+	Becomes a fear, as being o'erpower'd: therefore
+	Make space enough between you.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Speak this no more.
+
+Soothsayer	To none but thee; no more, but when to thee.
+	If thou dost play with him at any game,
+	Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck,
+	He beats thee 'gainst the odds: thy lustre thickens,
+	When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit
+	Is all afraid to govern thee near him;
+	But, he away, 'tis noble.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Get thee gone:
+	Say to Ventidius I would speak with him:
+
+	[Exit Soothsayer]
+
+	He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap,
+	He hath spoken true: the very dice obey him;
+	And in our sports my better cunning faints
+	Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds;
+	His cocks do win the battle still of mine,
+	When it is all to nought; and his quails ever
+	Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds. I will to Egypt:
+	And though I make this marriage for my peace,
+	I' the east my pleasure lies.
+
+	[Enter VENTIDIUS]
+
+		        O, come, Ventidius,
+	You must to Parthia: your commission's ready;
+	Follow me, and receive't.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The same. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter LEPIDUS, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA]
+
+LEPIDUS	Trouble yourselves no further: pray you, hasten
+	Your generals after.
+
+AGRIPPA	Sir, Mark Antony
+	Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow.
+
+LEPIDUS	Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress,
+	Which will become you both, farewell.
+
+MECAENAS	We shall,
+	As I conceive the journey, be at the Mount
+	Before you, Lepidus.
+
+LEPIDUS	Your way is shorter;
+	My purposes do draw me much about:
+	You'll win two days upon me.
+
+
+MECAENAS	|
+	|	Sir, good success!
+AGRIPPA	|
+
+
+LEPIDUS	Farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Give me some music; music, moody food
+	Of us that trade in love.
+
+Attendants	The music, ho!
+
+	[Enter MARDIAN]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Let it alone; let's to billiards: come, Charmian.
+
+CHARMIAN	My arm is sore; best play with Mardian.
+
+CLEOPATRA	As well a woman with an eunuch play'd
+	As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me, sir?
+
+MARDIAN	As well as I can, madam.
+
+CLEOPATRA	And when good will is show'd, though't come
+	too short,
+	The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now:
+	Give me mine angle; we'll to the river: there,
+	My music playing far off, I will betray
+	Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce
+	Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up,
+	I'll think them every one an Antony,
+	And say 'Ah, ha! you're caught.'
+
+CHARMIAN	'Twas merry when
+	You wager'd on your angling; when your diver
+	Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he
+	With fervency drew up.
+
+CLEOPATRA	That time,--O times!--
+	I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night
+	I laugh'd him into patience; and next morn,
+	Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed;
+	Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst
+	I wore his sword Philippan.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+		      O, from Italy
+	Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,
+	That long time have been barren.
+
+Messenger	Madam, madam,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	Antonius dead!--If thou say so, villain,
+	Thou kill'st thy mistress: but well and free,
+	If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here
+	My bluest veins to kiss; a hand that kings
+	Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing.
+
+Messenger	First, madam, he is well.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Why, there's more gold.
+	But, sirrah, mark, we use
+	To say the dead are well: bring it to that,
+	The gold I give thee will I melt and pour
+	Down thy ill-uttering throat.
+
+Messenger	Good madam, hear me.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Well, go to, I will;
+	But there's no goodness in thy face: if Antony
+	Be free and healthful,--so tart a favour
+	To trumpet such good tidings! If not well,
+	Thou shouldst come like a Fury crown'd with snakes,
+	Not like a formal man.
+
+Messenger	Will't please you hear me?
+
+CLEOPATRA	I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st:
+	Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well,
+	Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him,
+	I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail
+	Rich pearls upon thee.
+
+Messenger	Madam, he's well.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Well said.
+
+Messenger	And friends with Caesar.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Thou'rt an honest man.
+
+Messenger	Caesar and he are greater friends than ever.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Make thee a fortune from me.
+
+Messenger	But yet, madam,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	I do not like 'But yet,' it does allay
+	The good precedence; fie upon 'But yet'!
+	'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth
+	Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend,
+	Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear,
+	The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar:
+	In state of health thou say'st; and thou say'st free.
+
+Messenger	Free, madam! no; I made no such report:
+	He's bound unto Octavia.
+
+CLEOPATRA	For what good turn?
+
+Messenger	For the best turn i' the bed.
+
+CLEOPATRA	I am pale, Charmian.
+
+Messenger	Madam, he's married to Octavia.
+
+CLEOPATRA	The most infectious pestilence upon thee!
+
+	[Strikes him down]
+
+Messenger	Good madam, patience.
+
+CLEOPATRA	What say you? Hence,
+
+	[Strikes him again]
+
+	Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes
+	Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head:
+
+	[She hales him up and down]
+
+	Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine,
+	Smarting in lingering pickle.
+
+Messenger	Gracious madam,
+	I that do bring the news made not the match.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Say 'tis not so, a province I will give thee,
+	And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst
+	Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage;
+	And I will boot thee with what gift beside
+	Thy modesty can beg.
+
+Messenger	He's married, madam.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Rogue, thou hast lived too long.
+
+	[Draws a knife]
+
+Messenger	Nay, then I'll run.
+	What mean you, madam? I have made no fault.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CHARMIAN	Good madam, keep yourself within yourself:
+	The man is innocent.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt.
+	Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures
+	Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again:
+	Though I am mad, I will not bite him: call.
+
+CHARMIAN	He is afeard to come.
+
+CLEOPATRA	I will not hurt him.
+
+	[Exit CHARMIAN]
+
+	These hands do lack nobility, that they strike
+	A meaner than myself; since I myself
+	Have given myself the cause.
+
+	[Re-enter CHARMIAN and Messenger]
+
+		       Come hither, sir.
+	Though it be honest, it is never good
+	To bring bad news: give to a gracious message.
+	An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell
+	Themselves when they be felt.
+
+Messenger	I have done my duty.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Is he married?
+	I cannot hate thee worser than I do,
+	If thou again say 'Yes.'
+
+Messenger	He's married, madam.
+
+CLEOPATRA	The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still?
+
+Messenger	Should I lie, madam?
+
+CLEOPATRA	O, I would thou didst,
+	So half my Egypt were submerged and made
+	A cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence:
+	Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me
+	Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married?
+
+Messenger	I crave your highness' pardon.
+
+CLEOPATRA	He is married?
+
+Messenger	Take no offence that I would not offend you:
+	To punish me for what you make me do.
+	Seems much unequal: he's married to Octavia.
+
+CLEOPATRA	O, that his fault should make a knave of thee,
+	That art not what thou'rt sure of! Get thee hence:
+	The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome
+	Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy hand,
+	And be undone by 'em!
+
+	[Exit Messenger]
+
+CHARMIAN	Good your highness, patience.
+
+CLEOPATRA	In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar.
+
+CHARMIAN	Many times, madam.
+
+CLEOPATRA	                  I am paid for't now.
+	Lead me from hence:
+	I faint: O Iras, Charmian! 'tis no matter.
+	Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him
+	Report the feature of Octavia, her years,
+	Her inclination, let him not leave out
+	The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly.
+
+	[Exit ALEXAS]
+
+	Let him for ever go:--let him not--Charmian,
+	Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,
+	The other way's a Mars. Bid you Alexas
+
+	[To MARDIAN]
+
+	Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian,
+	But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Near Misenum.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter POMPEY and MENAS at one door,
+	with drum and trumpet: at another, OCTAVIUS CAESAR,
+	MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MECAENAS,
+	with Soldiers marching]
+
+POMPEY	Your hostages I have, so have you mine;
+	And we shall talk before we fight.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Most meet
+	That first we come to words; and therefore have we
+	Our written purposes before us sent;
+	Which, if thou hast consider'd, let us know
+	If 'twill tie up thy discontented sword,
+	And carry back to Sicily much tall youth
+	That else must perish here.
+
+POMPEY	To you all three,
+	The senators alone of this great world,
+	Chief factors for the gods, I do not know
+	Wherefore my father should revengers want,
+	Having a son and friends; since Julius Caesar,
+	Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted,
+	There saw you labouring for him. What was't
+	That moved pale Cassius to conspire; and what
+	Made the all-honour'd, honest Roman, Brutus,
+	With the arm'd rest, courtiers and beauteous freedom,
+	To drench the Capitol; but that they would
+	Have one man but a man? And that is it
+	Hath made me rig my navy; at whose burthen
+	The anger'd ocean foams; with which I meant
+	To scourge the ingratitude that despiteful Rome
+	Cast on my noble father.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Take your time.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails;
+	We'll speak with thee at sea: at land, thou know'st
+	How much we do o'er-count thee.
+
+POMPEY	At land, indeed,
+	Thou dost o'er-count me of my father's house:
+	But, since the cuckoo builds not for himself,
+	Remain in't as thou mayst.
+
+LEPIDUS	Be pleased to tell us--
+	For this is from the present--how you take
+	The offers we have sent you.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	There's the point.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Which do not be entreated to, but weigh
+	What it is worth embraced.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	And what may follow,
+	To try a larger fortune.
+
+POMPEY	You have made me offer
+	Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I must
+	Rid all the sea of pirates; then, to send
+	Measures of wheat to Rome; this 'greed upon
+	To part with unhack'd edges, and bear back
+	Our targes undinted.
+
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	|
+	|
+MARK ANTONY	|  That's our offer.
+	|
+LEPIDUS	|
+
+
+POMPEY	Know, then,
+	I came before you here a man prepared
+	To take this offer: but Mark Antony
+	Put me to some impatience: though I lose
+	The praise of it by telling, you must know,
+	When Caesar and your brother were at blows,
+	Your mother came to Sicily and did find
+	Her welcome friendly.
+
+MARK ANTONY	I have heard it, Pompey;
+	And am well studied for a liberal thanks
+	Which I do owe you.
+
+POMPEY	Let me have your hand:
+	I did not think, sir, to have met you here.
+
+MARK ANTONY	The beds i' the east are soft; and thanks to you,
+	That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither;
+	For I have gain'd by 't.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Since I saw you last,
+	There is a change upon you.
+
+POMPEY	Well, I know not
+	What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face;
+	But in my bosom shall she never come,
+	To make my heart her vassal.
+
+LEPIDUS	Well met here.
+
+POMPEY	I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are agreed:
+	I crave our composition may be written,
+	And seal'd between us.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	That's the next to do.
+
+POMPEY	We'll feast each other ere we part; and let's
+	Draw lots who shall begin.
+
+MARK ANTONY	That will I, Pompey.
+
+POMPEY	No, Antony, take the lot: but, first
+	Or last, your fine Egyptian cookery
+	Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar
+	Grew fat with feasting there.
+
+MARK ANTONY	You have heard much.
+
+POMPEY	I have fair meanings, sir.
+
+MARK ANTONY	And fair words to them.
+
+POMPEY	Then so much have I heard:
+	And I have heard, Apollodorus carried--
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	No more of that: he did so.
+
+POMPEY	What, I pray you?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	A certain queen to Caesar in a mattress.
+
+POMPEY	I know thee now: how farest thou, soldier?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Well;
+	And well am like to do; for, I perceive,
+	Four feasts are toward.
+
+POMPEY	Let me shake thy hand;
+	I never hated thee: I have seen thee fight,
+	When I have envied thy behavior.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Sir,
+	I never loved you much; but I ha' praised ye,
+	When you have well deserved ten times as much
+	As I have said you did.
+
+POMPEY	Enjoy thy plainness,
+	It nothing ill becomes thee.
+	Aboard my galley I invite you all:
+	Will you lead, lords?
+
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	|
+	|
+MARK ANTONY	|  Show us the way, sir.
+	|
+LEPIDUS	|
+
+
+POMPEY	Come.
+
+	[Exeunt all but MENAS and ENOBARBUS]
+
+MENAS	[Aside]  Thy father, Pompey, would ne'er have
+	made this treaty.--You and I have known, sir.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	At sea, I think.
+
+MENAS	We have, sir.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	You have done well by water.
+
+MENAS	And you by land.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I will praise any man that will praise me; though it
+	cannot be denied what I have done by land.
+
+MENAS	Nor what I have done by water.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Yes, something you can deny for your own
+	safety: you have been a great thief by sea.
+
+MENAS	And you by land.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	There I deny my land service. But give me your
+	hand, Menas: if our eyes had authority, here they
+	might take two thieves kissing.
+
+MENAS	All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their hands are.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	But there is never a fair woman has a true face.
+
+MENAS	No slander; they steal hearts.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	We came hither to fight with you.
+
+MENAS	For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a drinking.
+	Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	If he do, sure, he cannot weep't back again.
+
+MENAS	You've said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony
+	here: pray you, is he married to Cleopatra?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Caesar's sister is called Octavia.
+
+MENAS	True, sir; she was the wife of Caius Marcellus.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius.
+
+MENAS	Pray ye, sir?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	'Tis true.
+
+MENAS	Then is Caesar and he for ever knit together.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would
+	not prophesy so.
+
+MENAS	I think the policy of that purpose made more in the
+	marriage than the love of the parties.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I think so too. But you shall find, the band that
+	seems to tie their friendship together will be the
+	very strangler of their amity: Octavia is of a
+	holy, cold, and still conversation.
+
+MENAS	Who would not have his wife so?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Not he that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony.
+	He will to his Egyptian dish again: then shall the
+	sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Caesar; and, as
+	I said before, that which is the strength of their
+	amity shall prove the immediate author of their
+	variance. Antony will use his affection where it is:
+	he married but his occasion here.
+
+MENAS	And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard?
+	I have a health for you.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I shall take it, sir: we have used our throats in Egypt.
+
+MENAS	Come, let's away.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+SCENE VII	On board POMPEY's galley, off Misenum.
+
+
+	[Music plays. Enter two or three Servants with
+	a banquet]
+
+First Servant	Here they'll be, man. Some o' their plants are
+	ill-rooted already: the least wind i' the world
+	will blow them down.
+
+Second Servant	Lepidus is high-coloured.
+
+First Servant	They have made him drink alms-drink.
+
+Second Servant	As they pinch one another by the disposition, he
+	cries out 'No more;' reconciles them to his
+	entreaty, and himself to the drink.
+
+First Servant	But it raises the greater war between him and
+	his discretion.
+
+Second Servant	Why, this is to have a name in great men's
+	fellowship: I had as lief have a reed that will do
+	me no service as a partisan I could not heave.
+
+First Servant	To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen
+	to move in't, are the holes where eyes should be,
+	which pitifully disaster the cheeks.
+
+	[A sennet sounded. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK
+	ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POMPEY, AGRIPPA, MECAENAS,
+	DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MENAS, with other captains]
+
+MARK ANTONY	[To OCTAVIUS CAESAR]  Thus do they, sir: they take
+	the flow o' the Nile
+	By certain scales i' the pyramid; they know,
+	By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth
+	Or foison follow: the higher Nilus swells,
+	The more it promises: as it ebbs, the seedsman
+	Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain,
+	And shortly comes to harvest.
+
+LEPIDUS	You've strange serpents there.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Ay, Lepidus.
+
+LEPIDUS	Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the
+	operation of your sun: so is your crocodile.
+
+MARK ANTONY	They are so.
+
+POMPEY	Sit,--and some wine! A health to Lepidus!
+
+LEPIDUS	I am not so well as I should be, but I'll ne'er out.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Not till you have slept; I fear me you'll be in till then.
+
+LEPIDUS	Nay, certainly, I have heard the Ptolemies'
+	pyramises are very goodly things; without
+	contradiction, I have heard that.
+
+MENAS	[Aside to POMPEY]  Pompey, a word.
+
+POMPEY	[Aside to MENAS]                 Say in mine ear:
+	what is't?
+
+MENAS	[Aside to POMPEY]  Forsake thy seat, I do beseech
+	thee, captain,
+	And hear me speak a word.
+
+POMPEY	[Aside to MENAS]  Forbear me till anon.
+	This wine for Lepidus!
+
+LEPIDUS	What manner o' thing is your crocodile?
+
+MARK ANTONY	It is shaped, sir, like itself; and it is as broad
+	as it hath breadth: it is just so high as it is,
+	and moves with its own organs: it lives by that
+	which nourisheth it; and the elements once out of
+	it, it transmigrates.
+
+LEPIDUS	What colour is it of?
+
+MARK ANTONY	Of it own colour too.
+
+LEPIDUS	'Tis a strange serpent.
+
+MARK ANTONY	'Tis so. And the tears of it are wet.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Will this description satisfy him?
+
+MARK ANTONY	With the health that Pompey gives him, else he is a
+	very epicure.
+
+POMPEY	[Aside to MENAS]  Go hang, sir, hang! Tell me of
+	that? away!
+	Do as I bid you. Where's this cup I call'd for?
+
+MENAS	[Aside to POMPEY]  If for the sake of merit thou
+	wilt hear me,
+	Rise from thy stool.
+
+POMPEY	[Aside to MENAS]  I think thou'rt mad.
+	The matter?
+
+	[Rises, and walks aside]
+
+MENAS	I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes.
+
+POMPEY	Thou hast served me with much faith. What's else to say?
+	Be jolly, lords.
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  These quick-sands, Lepidus,
+	Keep off them, for you sink.
+
+MENAS	Wilt thou be lord of all the world?
+
+POMPEY	What say'st thou?
+
+MENAS	Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? That's twice.
+
+POMPEY	How should that be?
+
+MENAS	But entertain it,
+	And, though thou think me poor, I am the man
+	Will give thee all the world.
+
+POMPEY	Hast thou drunk well?
+
+MENAS	Now, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup.
+	Thou art, if thou darest be, the earthly Jove:
+	Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips,
+	Is thine, if thou wilt ha't.
+
+POMPEY	Show me which way.
+
+MENAS	These three world-sharers, these competitors,
+	Are in thy vessel: let me cut the cable;
+	And, when we are put off, fall to their throats:
+	All there is thine.
+
+POMPEY	Ah, this thou shouldst have done,
+	And not have spoke on't! In me 'tis villany;
+	In thee't had been good service. Thou must know,
+	'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour;
+	Mine honour, it. Repent that e'er thy tongue
+	Hath so betray'd thine act: being done unknown,
+	I should have found it afterwards well done;
+	But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink.
+
+MENAS	[Aside]  For this,
+	I'll never follow thy pall'd fortunes more.
+	Who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis offer'd,
+	Shall never find it more.
+
+POMPEY	This health to Lepidus!
+
+MARK ANTONY	Bear him ashore. I'll pledge it for him, Pompey.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Here's to thee, Menas!
+
+MENAS	Enobarbus, welcome!
+
+POMPEY	Fill till the cup be hid.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	There's a strong fellow, Menas.
+
+	[Pointing to the Attendant who carries off LEPIDUS]
+
+MENAS	Why?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	A' bears the third part of the world, man; see'st
+	not?
+
+MENAS	The third part, then, is drunk: would it were all,
+	That it might go on wheels!
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Drink thou; increase the reels.
+
+MENAS	Come.
+
+POMPEY	This is not yet an Alexandrian feast.
+
+MARK ANTONY	It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho?
+	Here is to Caesar!
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  I could well forbear't.
+	It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain,
+	And it grows fouler.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Be a child o' the time.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Possess it, I'll make answer:
+	But I had rather fast from all four days
+	Than drink so much in one.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Ha, my brave emperor!
+
+	[To MARK ANTONY]
+
+	Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals,
+	And celebrate our drink?
+
+POMPEY	Let's ha't, good soldier.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Come, let's all take hands,
+	Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense
+	In soft and delicate Lethe.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	All take hands.
+	Make battery to our ears with the loud music:
+	The while I'll place you: then the boy shall sing;
+	The holding every man shall bear as loud
+	As his strong sides can volley.
+
+	[Music plays. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS places them
+	hand in hand]
+	THE SONG.
+
+	Come, thou monarch of the vine,
+	Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne!
+	In thy fats our cares be drown'd,
+	With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd:
+	Cup us, till the world go round,
+	Cup us, till the world go round!
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	What would you more? Pompey, good night. Good brother,
+	Let me request you off: our graver business
+	Frowns at this levity. Gentle lords, let's part;
+	You see we have burnt our cheeks: strong Enobarb
+	Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue
+	Splits what it speaks: the wild disguise hath almost
+	Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good night.
+	Good Antony, your hand.
+
+POMPEY	I'll try you on the shore.
+
+MARK ANTONY	And shall, sir; give's your hand.
+
+POMPEY	O Antony,
+	You have my father's house,--But, what? we are friends.
+	Come, down into the boat.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Take heed you fall not.
+
+	[Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and MENAS]
+
+	Menas, I'll not on shore.
+
+MENAS	No, to my cabin.
+	These drums! these trumpets, flutes! what!
+	Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell
+	To these great fellows: sound and be hang'd, sound out!
+
+	[Sound a flourish, with drums]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Ho! says a' There's my cap.
+
+MENAS	Ho! Noble captain, come.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A plain in Syria.
+
+
+	[Enter VENTIDIUS as it were in triumph, with SILIUS,
+	and other Romans, Officers, and Soldiers; the dead
+	body of PACORUS borne before him]
+
+VENTIDIUS	Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck; and now
+	Pleased fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death
+	Make me revenger. Bear the king's son's body
+	Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes,
+	Pays this for Marcus Crassus.
+
+SILIUS	Noble Ventidius,
+	Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm,
+	The fugitive Parthians follow; spur through Media,
+	Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither
+	The routed fly: so thy grand captain Antony
+	Shall set thee on triumphant chariots and
+	Put garlands on thy head.
+
+VENTIDIUS	O Silius, Silius,
+	I have done enough; a lower place, note well,
+	May make too great an act: for learn this, Silius;
+	Better to leave undone, than by our deed
+	Acquire too high a fame when him we serve's away.
+	Caesar and Antony have ever won
+	More in their officer than person: Sossius,
+	One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant,
+	For quick accumulation of renown,
+	Which he achieved by the minute, lost his favour.
+	Who does i' the wars more than his captain can
+	Becomes his captain's captain: and ambition,
+	The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss,
+	Than gain which darkens him.
+	I could do more to do Antonius good,
+	But 'twould offend him; and in his offence
+	Should my performance perish.
+
+SILIUS	Thou hast, Ventidius,
+	that
+	Without the which a soldier, and his sword,
+	Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony!
+
+VENTIDIUS	I'll humbly signify what in his name,
+	That magical word of war, we have effected;
+	How, with his banners and his well-paid ranks,
+	The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia
+	We have jaded out o' the field.
+
+SILIUS	Where is he now?
+
+VENTIDIUS	He purposeth to Athens: whither, with what haste
+	The weight we must convey with's will permit,
+	We shall appear before him. On there; pass along!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Rome. An ante-chamber in OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house.
+
+
+	[Enter AGRIPPA at one door, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
+	at another]
+
+AGRIPPA	What, are the brothers parted?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	They have dispatch'd with Pompey, he is gone;
+	The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps
+	To part from Rome; Caesar is sad; and Lepidus,
+	Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled
+	With the green sickness.
+
+AGRIPPA	'Tis a noble Lepidus.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	A very fine one: O, how he loves Caesar!
+
+AGRIPPA	Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony!
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Caesar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men.
+
+AGRIPPA	What's Antony? The god of Jupiter.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Spake you of Caesar? How! the non-pareil!
+
+AGRIPPA	O Antony! O thou Arabian bird!
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Would you praise Caesar, say 'Caesar:' go no further.
+
+AGRIPPA	Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	But he loves Caesar best; yet he loves Antony:
+	Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards,
+	poets, cannot
+	Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number, ho!
+	His love to Antony. But as for Caesar,
+	Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder.
+
+AGRIPPA	Both he loves.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	They are his shards, and he their beetle.
+
+	[Trumpets within]
+			So;
+	This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa.
+
+AGRIPPA	Good fortune, worthy soldier; and farewell.
+
+	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA]
+
+MARK ANTONY	No further, sir.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You take from me a great part of myself;
+	Use me well in 't. Sister, prove such a wife
+	As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest band
+	Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony,
+	Let not the piece of virtue, which is set
+	Betwixt us as the cement of our love,
+	To keep it builded, be the ram to batter
+	The fortress of it; for better might we
+	Have loved without this mean, if on both parts
+	This be not cherish'd.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Make me not offended
+	In your distrust.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  I have said.
+
+MARK ANTONY	You shall not find,
+	Though you be therein curious, the least cause
+	For what you seem to fear: so, the gods keep you,
+	And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends!
+	We will here part.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well:
+	The elements be kind to thee, and make
+	Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well.
+
+OCTAVIA	My noble brother!
+
+MARK ANTONY	The April 's in her eyes: it is love's spring,
+	And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful.
+
+OCTAVIA	Sir, look well to my husband's house; and--
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	What, Octavia?
+
+OCTAVIA	       I'll tell you in your ear.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can
+	Her heart inform her tongue,--the swan's
+	down-feather,
+	That stands upon the swell at full of tide,
+	And neither way inclines.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside to AGRIPPA]  Will Caesar weep?
+
+AGRIPPA	[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]  He has a cloud in 's face.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside to AGRIPPA]  He were the worse for that,
+	were he a horse;
+	So is he, being a man.
+
+AGRIPPA	[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]  Why, Enobarbus,
+	When Antony found Julius Caesar dead,
+	He cried almost to roaring; and he wept
+	When at Philippi he found Brutus slain.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside to AGRIPPA]  That year, indeed, he was
+	troubled with a rheum;
+	What willingly he did confound he wail'd,
+	Believe't, till I wept too.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	No, sweet Octavia,
+	You shall hear from me still; the time shall not
+	Out-go my thinking on you.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Come, sir, come;
+	I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love:
+	Look, here I have you; thus I let you go,
+	And give you to the gods.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Adieu; be happy!
+
+LEPIDUS	Let all the number of the stars give light
+	To thy fair way!
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Farewell, farewell!
+
+	[Kisses OCTAVIA]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Farewell!
+
+	[Trumpets sound. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Where is the fellow?
+
+ALEXAS	Half afeard to come.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Go to, go to.
+
+	[Enter the Messenger as before]
+
+	Come hither, sir.
+
+ALEXAS	Good majesty,
+	Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you
+	But when you are well pleased.
+
+CLEOPATRA	That Herod's head
+	I'll have: but how, when Antony is gone
+	Through whom I might command it? Come thou near.
+
+Messenger	Most gracious majesty,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	Didst thou behold Octavia?
+
+Messenger	Ay, dread queen.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Where?
+
+Messenger	Madam, in Rome;
+	I look'd her in the face, and saw her led
+	Between her brother and Mark Antony.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Is she as tall as me?
+
+Messenger	She is not, madam.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Didst hear her speak? is she shrill-tongued or low?
+
+Messenger	Madam, I heard her speak; she is low-voiced.
+
+CLEOPATRA	That's not so good: he cannot like her long.
+
+CHARMIAN	Like her! O Isis! 'tis impossible.
+
+CLEOPATRA	I think so, Charmian: dull of tongue, and dwarfish!
+	What majesty is in her gait? Remember,
+	If e'er thou look'dst on majesty.
+
+Messenger	She creeps:
+	Her motion and her station are as one;
+	She shows a body rather than a life,
+	A statue than a breather.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Is this certain?
+
+Messenger	Or I have no observance.
+
+CHARMIAN	Three in Egypt
+	Cannot make better note.
+
+CLEOPATRA	He's very knowing;
+	I do perceive't: there's nothing in her yet:
+	The fellow has good judgment.
+
+CHARMIAN	Excellent.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Guess at her years, I prithee.
+
+Messenger	Madam,
+	She was a widow,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	                  Widow! Charmian, hark.
+
+Messenger	And I do think she's thirty.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Bear'st thou her face in mind? is't long or round?
+
+Messenger	Round even to faultiness.
+
+CLEOPATRA	For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so.
+	Her hair, what colour?
+
+Messenger	Brown, madam: and her forehead
+	As low as she would wish it.
+
+CLEOPATRA	There's gold for thee.
+	Thou must not take my former sharpness ill:
+	I will employ thee back again; I find thee
+	Most fit for business: go make thee ready;
+	Our letters are prepared.
+
+	[Exit Messenger]
+
+CHARMIAN	A proper man.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Indeed, he is so: I repent me much
+	That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him,
+	This creature's no such thing.
+
+CHARMIAN	Nothing, madam.
+
+CLEOPATRA	The man hath seen some majesty, and should know.
+
+CHARMIAN	Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend,
+	And serving you so long!
+
+CLEOPATRA	I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian:
+	But 'tis no matter; thou shalt bring him to me
+	Where I will write. All may be well enough.
+
+CHARMIAN	I warrant you, madam.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+SCENE IV	Athens. A room in MARK ANTONY's house.
+
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY and OCTAVIA]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that,--
+	That were excusable, that, and thousands more
+	Of semblable import,--but he hath waged
+	New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it
+	To public ear:
+	Spoke scantly of me: when perforce he could not
+	But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly
+	He vented them; most narrow measure lent me:
+	When the best hint was given him, he not took't,
+	Or did it from his teeth.
+
+OCTAVIA	O my good lord,
+	Believe not all; or, if you must believe,
+	Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady,
+	If this division chance, ne'er stood between,
+	Praying for both parts:
+	The good gods me presently,
+	When I shall pray, 'O bless my lord and husband!'
+	Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud,
+	'O, bless my brother!' Husband win, win brother,
+	Prays, and destroys the prayer; no midway
+	'Twixt these extremes at all.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Gentle Octavia,
+	Let your best love draw to that point, which seeks
+	Best to preserve it: if I lose mine honour,
+	I lose myself: better I were not yours
+	Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested,
+	Yourself shall go between 's: the mean time, lady,
+	I'll raise the preparation of a war
+	Shall stain your brother: make your soonest haste;
+	So your desires are yours.
+
+OCTAVIA	Thanks to my lord.
+	The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak,
+	Your reconciler! Wars 'twixt you twain would be
+	As if the world should cleave, and that slain men
+	Should solder up the rift.
+
+MARK ANTONY	When it appears to you where this begins,
+	Turn your displeasure that way: for our faults
+	Can never be so equal, that your love
+	Can equally move with them. Provide your going;
+	Choose your own company, and command what cost
+	Your heart has mind to.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The same. Another room.
+
+
+	[Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and EROS, meeting]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	How now, friend Eros!
+
+EROS	There's strange news come, sir.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	What, man?
+
+EROS	Caesar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	This is old: what is the success?
+
+EROS	Caesar, having made use of him in the wars 'gainst
+	Pompey, presently denied him rivality; would not let
+	him partake in the glory of the action: and not
+	resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly
+	wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him: so
+	the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more;
+	And throw between them all the food thou hast,
+	They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony?
+
+EROS	He's walking in the garden--thus; and spurns
+	The rush that lies before him; cries, 'Fool Lepidus!'
+	And threats the throat of that his officer
+	That murder'd Pompey.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Our great navy's rigg'd.
+
+EROS	For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius;
+	My lord desires you presently: my news
+	I might have told hereafter.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	'Twill be naught:
+	But let it be. Bring me to Antony.
+
+EROS	Come, sir.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house.
+
+
+	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Contemning Rome, he has done all this, and more,
+	In Alexandria: here's the manner of 't:
+	I' the market-place, on a tribunal silver'd,
+	Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold
+	Were publicly enthroned: at the feet sat
+	Caesarion, whom they call my father's son,
+	And all the unlawful issue that their lust
+	Since then hath made between them. Unto her
+	He gave the stablishment of Egypt; made her
+	Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia,
+	Absolute queen.
+
+MECAENAS	                  This in the public eye?
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	I' the common show-place, where they exercise.
+	His sons he there proclaim'd the kings of kings:
+	Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia.
+	He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assign'd
+	Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia: she
+	In the habiliments of the goddess Isis
+	That day appear'd; and oft before gave audience,
+	As 'tis reported, so.
+
+MECAENAS	Let Rome be thus Inform'd.
+
+AGRIPPA	Who, queasy with his insolence
+	Already, will their good thoughts call from him.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	The people know it; and have now received
+	His accusations.
+
+AGRIPPA	                  Who does he accuse?
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Caesar: and that, having in Sicily
+	Sextus Pompeius spoil'd, we had not rated him
+	His part o' the isle: then does he say, he lent me
+	Some shipping unrestored: lastly, he frets
+	That Lepidus of the triumvirate
+	Should be deposed; and, being, that we detain
+	All his revenue.
+
+AGRIPPA	                  Sir, this should be answer'd.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	'Tis done already, and the messenger gone.
+	I have told him, Lepidus was grown too cruel;
+	That he his high authority abused,
+	And did deserve his change: for what I have conquer'd,
+	I grant him part; but then, in his Armenia,
+	And other of his conquer'd kingdoms, I
+	Demand the like.
+
+MECAENAS	                  He'll never yield to that.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Nor must not then be yielded to in this.
+
+	[Enter OCTAVIA with her train]
+
+OCTAVIA	Hail, Caesar, and my lord! hail, most dear Caesar!
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	That ever I should call thee castaway!
+
+OCTAVIA	You have not call'd me so, nor have you cause.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Why have you stol'n upon us thus! You come not
+	Like Caesar's sister: the wife of Antony
+	Should have an army for an usher, and
+	The neighs of horse to tell of her approach
+	Long ere she did appear; the trees by the way
+	Should have borne men; and expectation fainted,
+	Longing for what it had not; nay, the dust
+	Should have ascended to the roof of heaven,
+	Raised by your populous troops: but you are come
+	A market-maid to Rome; and have prevented
+	The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown,
+	Is often left unloved; we should have met you
+	By sea and land; supplying every stage
+	With an augmented greeting.
+
+OCTAVIA	Good my lord,
+	To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did
+	On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony,
+	Hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted
+	My grieved ear withal; whereon, I begg'd
+	His pardon for return.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Which soon he granted,
+	Being an obstruct 'tween his lust and him.
+
+OCTAVIA	Do not say so, my lord.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	I have eyes upon him,
+	And his affairs come to me on the wind.
+	Where is he now?
+
+OCTAVIA	                  My lord, in Athens.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	No, my most wronged sister; Cleopatra
+	Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his empire
+	Up to a whore; who now are levying
+	The kings o' the earth for war; he hath assembled
+	Bocchus, the king of Libya; Archelaus,
+	Of Cappadocia; Philadelphos, king
+	Of Paphlagonia; the Thracian king, Adallas;
+	King Malchus of Arabia; King of Pont;
+	Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, king
+	Of Comagene; Polemon and Amyntas,
+	The kings of Mede and Lycaonia,
+	With a more larger list of sceptres.
+
+OCTAVIA	Ay me, most wretched,
+	That have my heart parted betwixt two friends
+	That do afflict each other!
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Welcome hither:
+	Your letters did withhold our breaking forth;
+	Till we perceived, both how you were wrong led,
+	And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart;
+	Be you not troubled with the time, which drives
+	O'er your content these strong necessities;
+	But let determined things to destiny
+	Hold unbewail'd their way. Welcome to Rome;
+	Nothing more dear to me. You are abused
+	Beyond the mark of thought: and the high gods,
+	To do you justice, make them ministers
+	Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort;
+	And ever welcome to us.
+
+AGRIPPA	Welcome, lady.
+
+MECAENAS	Welcome, dear madam.
+	Each heart in Rome does love and pity you:
+	Only the adulterous Antony, most large
+	In his abominations, turns you off;
+	And gives his potent regiment to a trull,
+	That noises it against us.
+
+OCTAVIA	Is it so, sir?
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Most certain. Sister, welcome: pray you,
+	Be ever known to patience: my dear'st sister!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Near Actium. MARK ANTONY's camp.
+
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]
+
+CLEOPATRA	I will be even with thee, doubt it not.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	But why, why, why?
+
+CLEOPATRA	Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars,
+	And say'st it is not fit.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Well, is it, is it?
+
+CLEOPATRA	If not denounced against us, why should not we
+	Be there in person?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside]  Well, I could reply:
+	If we should serve with horse and mares together,
+	The horse were merely lost; the mares would bear
+	A soldier and his horse.
+
+CLEOPATRA	What is't you say?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Your presence needs must puzzle Antony;
+	Take from his heart, take from his brain,
+	from's time,
+	What should not then be spared. He is already
+	Traduced for levity; and 'tis said in Rome
+	That Photinus an eunuch and your maids
+	Manage this war.
+
+CLEOPATRA	                  Sink Rome, and their tongues rot
+	That speak against us! A charge we bear i' the war,
+	And, as the president of my kingdom, will
+	Appear there for a man. Speak not against it:
+	I will not stay behind.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Nay, I have done.
+	Here comes the emperor.
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY and CANIDIUS]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Is it not strange, Canidius,
+	That from Tarentum and Brundusium
+	He could so quickly cut the Ionian sea,
+	And take in Toryne? You have heard on't, sweet?
+
+CLEOPATRA	Celerity is never more admired
+	Than by the negligent.
+
+MARK ANTONY	A good rebuke,
+	Which might have well becomed the best of men,
+	To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we
+	Will fight with him by sea.
+
+CLEOPATRA	By sea! what else?
+
+CANIDIUS	Why will my lord do so?
+
+MARK ANTONY	For that he dares us to't.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	So hath my lord dared him to single fight.
+
+CANIDIUS	Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia.
+	Where Caesar fought with Pompey: but these offers,
+	Which serve not for his vantage, be shakes off;
+	And so should you.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	                  Your ships are not well mann'd;
+	Your mariners are muleters, reapers, people
+	Ingross'd by swift impress; in Caesar's fleet
+	Are those that often have 'gainst Pompey fought:
+	Their ships are yare; yours, heavy: no disgrace
+	Shall fall you for refusing him at sea,
+	Being prepared for land.
+
+MARK ANTONY	By sea, by sea.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Most worthy sir, you therein throw away
+	The absolute soldiership you have by land;
+	Distract your army, which doth most consist
+	Of war-mark'd footmen; leave unexecuted
+	Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego
+	The way which promises assurance; and
+	Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard,
+	From firm security.
+
+MARK ANTONY	I'll fight at sea.
+
+CLEOPATRA	I have sixty sails, Caesar none better.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Our overplus of shipping will we burn;
+	And, with the rest full-mann'd, from the head of Actium
+	Beat the approaching Caesar. But if we fail,
+	We then can do't at land.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+		    Thy business?
+
+Messenger	The news is true, my lord; he is descried;
+	Caesar has taken Toryne.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Can he be there in person? 'tis impossible;
+	Strange that power should be. Canidius,
+	Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land,
+	And our twelve thousand horse. We'll to our ship:
+	Away, my Thetis!
+
+	[Enter a Soldier]
+
+	How now, worthy soldier?
+
+Soldier	O noble emperor, do not fight by sea;
+	Trust not to rotten planks: do you misdoubt
+	This sword and these my wounds? Let the Egyptians
+	And the Phoenicians go a-ducking; we
+	Have used to conquer, standing on the earth,
+	And fighting foot to foot.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Well, well: away!
+
+	[Exeunt MARK ANTONY, QUEEN CLEOPATRA, and DOMITIUS
+	ENOBARBUS]
+
+Soldier	By Hercules, I think I am i' the right.
+
+CANIDIUS	Soldier, thou art: but his whole action grows
+	Not in the power on't: so our leader's led,
+	And we are women's men.
+
+Soldier	You keep by land
+	The legions and the horse whole, do you not?
+
+CANIDIUS	Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius,
+	Publicola, and Caelius, are for sea:
+	But we keep whole by land. This speed of Caesar's
+	Carries beyond belief.
+
+Soldier	While he was yet in Rome,
+	His power went out in such distractions as
+	Beguiled all spies.
+
+CANIDIUS	Who's his lieutenant, hear you?
+
+Soldier	They say, one Taurus.
+
+CANIDIUS	Well I know the man.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	The emperor calls Canidius.
+
+CANIDIUS	With news the time's with labour, and throes forth,
+	Each minute, some.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII	A plain near Actium.
+
+
+	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and TAURUS, with his army, marching]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Taurus!
+
+TAURUS	My lord?
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Strike not by land; keep whole: provoke not battle,
+	Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed
+	The prescript of this scroll: our fortune lies
+	Upon this jump.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IX	Another part of the plain.
+
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Set we our squadrons on yond side o' the hill,
+	In eye of Caesar's battle; from which place
+	We may the number of the ships behold,
+	And so proceed accordingly.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+SCENE X	Another part of the plain.
+
+
+	[CANIDIUS marcheth with his land army one way over
+	the stage; and TAURUS, the lieutenant of OCTAVIUS
+	CAESAR, the other way. After their going in, is
+	heard the noise of a sea-fight]
+
+	[Alarum. Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Naught, naught all, naught! I can behold no longer:
+	The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral,
+	With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder:
+	To see't mine eyes are blasted.
+
+	[Enter SCARUS]
+
+SCARUS	Gods and goddesses,
+	All the whole synod of them!
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	What's thy passion!
+
+SCARUS	The greater cantle of the world is lost
+	With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away
+	Kingdoms and provinces.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	How appears the fight?
+
+SCARUS	On our side like the token'd pestilence,
+	Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt,--
+	Whom leprosy o'ertake!--i' the midst o' the fight,
+	When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd,
+	Both as the same, or rather ours the elder,
+	The breese upon her, like a cow in June,
+	Hoists sails and flies.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	That I beheld:
+	Mine eyes did sicken at the sight, and could not
+	Endure a further view.
+
+SCARUS	She once being loof'd,
+	The noble ruin of her magic, Antony,
+	Claps on his sea-wing, and, like a doting mallard,
+	Leaving the fight in height, flies after her:
+	I never saw an action of such shame;
+	Experience, manhood, honour, ne'er before
+	Did violate so itself.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Alack, alack!
+
+	[Enter CANIDIUS]
+
+CANIDIUS	Our fortune on the sea is out of breath,
+	And sinks most lamentably. Had our general
+	Been what he knew himself, it had gone well:
+	O, he has given example for our flight,
+	Most grossly, by his own!
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Ay, are you thereabouts?
+	Why, then, good night indeed.
+
+CANIDIUS	Toward Peloponnesus are they fled.
+
+SCARUS	'Tis easy to't; and there I will attend
+	What further comes.
+
+CANIDIUS	To Caesar will I render
+	My legions and my horse: six kings already
+	Show me the way of yielding.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I'll yet follow
+	The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason
+	Sits in the wind against me.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE XI	Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY with Attendants]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon't;
+	It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither:
+	I am so lated in the world, that I
+	Have lost my way for ever: I have a ship
+	Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly,
+	And make your peace with Caesar.
+
+All	Fly! not we.
+
+MARK ANTONY	I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards
+	To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone;
+	I have myself resolved upon a course
+	Which has no need of you; be gone:
+	My treasure's in the harbour, take it. O,
+	I follow'd that I blush to look upon:
+	My very hairs do mutiny; for the white
+	Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them
+	For fear and doting. Friends, be gone: you shall
+	Have letters from me to some friends that will
+	Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad,
+	Nor make replies of loathness: take the hint
+	Which my despair proclaims; let that be left
+	Which leaves itself: to the sea-side straightway:
+	I will possess you of that ship and treasure.
+	Leave me, I pray, a little: pray you now:
+	Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command,
+	Therefore I pray you: I'll see you by and by.
+
+	[Sits down]
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA led by CHARMIAN and IRAS; EROS
+	following]
+
+EROS	Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him.
+
+IRAS	Do, most dear queen.
+
+CHARMIAN	Do! why: what else?
+
+CLEOPATRA	Let me sit down. O Juno!
+
+MARK ANTONY	No, no, no, no, no.
+
+EROS	See you here, sir?
+
+MARK ANTONY	O fie, fie, fie!
+
+CHARMIAN	Madam!
+
+IRAS	Madam, O good empress!
+
+EROS	Sir, sir,--
+
+MARK ANTONY	Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept
+	His sword e'en like a dancer; while I struck
+	The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I
+	That the mad Brutus ended: he alone
+	Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practise had
+	In the brave squares of war: yet now--No matter.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Ah, stand by.
+
+EROS	The queen, my lord, the queen.
+
+IRAS	Go to him, madam, speak to him:
+	He is unqualitied with very shame.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Well then, sustain him: O!
+
+EROS	Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches:
+	Her head's declined, and death will seize her, but
+	Your comfort makes the rescue.
+
+MARK ANTONY	I have offended reputation,
+	A most unnoble swerving.
+
+EROS	Sir, the queen.
+
+MARK ANTONY	O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See,
+	How I convey my shame out of thine eyes
+	By looking back what I have left behind
+	'Stroy'd in dishonour.
+
+CLEOPATRA	O my lord, my lord,
+	Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought
+	You would have follow'd.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Egypt, thou knew'st too well
+	My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings,
+	And thou shouldst tow me after: o'er my spirit
+	Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that
+	Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods
+	Command me.
+
+CLEOPATRA	          O, my pardon!
+
+MARK ANTONY	Now I must
+	To the young man send humble treaties, dodge
+	And palter in the shifts of lowness; who
+	With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased,
+	Making and marring fortunes. You did know
+	How much you were my conqueror; and that
+	My sword, made weak by my affection, would
+	Obey it on all cause.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Pardon, pardon!
+
+MARK ANTONY	Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates
+	All that is won and lost: give me a kiss;
+	Even this repays me. We sent our schoolmaster;
+	Is he come back? Love, I am full of lead.
+	Some wine, within there, and our viands! Fortune knows
+	We scorn her most when most she offers blows.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE XII	Egypt. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp.
+
+
+	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, DOLABELLA, THYREUS, with others]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Let him appear that's come from Antony.
+	Know you him?
+
+DOLABELLA	                  Caesar, 'tis his schoolmaster:
+	An argument that he is pluck'd, when hither
+	He sends so poor a pinion off his wing,
+	Which had superfluous kings for messengers
+	Not many moons gone by.
+
+	[Enter EUPHRONIUS, ambassador from MARK ANTONY]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Approach, and speak.
+
+EUPHRONIUS	Such as I am, I come from Antony:
+	I was of late as petty to his ends
+	As is the morn-dew on the myrtle-leaf
+	To his grand sea.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  Be't so: declare thine office.
+
+EUPHRONIUS	Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and
+	Requires to live in Egypt: which not granted,
+	He lessens his requests; and to thee sues
+	To let him breathe between the heavens and earth,
+	A private man in Athens: this for him.
+	Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness;
+	Submits her to thy might; and of thee craves
+	The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs,
+	Now hazarded to thy grace.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	For Antony,
+	I have no ears to his request. The queen
+	Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she
+	From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend,
+	Or take his life there: this if she perform,
+	She shall not sue unheard. So to them both.
+
+EUPHRONIUS	Fortune pursue thee!
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Bring him through the bands.
+
+	[Exit EUPHRONIUS]
+
+	[To THYREUS]  To try eloquence, now 'tis time: dispatch;
+	From Antony win Cleopatra: promise,
+	And in our name, what she requires; add more,
+	From thine invention, offers: women are not
+	In their best fortunes strong; but want will perjure
+	The ne'er touch'd vestal: try thy cunning, Thyreus;
+	Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we
+	Will answer as a law.
+
+THYREUS	Caesar, I go.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Observe how Antony becomes his flaw,
+	And what thou think'st his very action speaks
+	In every power that moves.
+
+THYREUS	Caesar, I shall.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE XIII	Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, and IRAS]
+
+CLEOPATRA	What shall we do, Enobarbus?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Think, and die.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Is Antony or we in fault for this?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Antony only, that would make his will
+	Lord of his reason. What though you fled
+	From that great face of war, whose several ranges
+	Frighted each other? why should he follow?
+	The itch of his affection should not then
+	Have nick'd his captainship; at such a point,
+	When half to half the world opposed, he being
+	The meered question: 'twas a shame no less
+	Than was his loss, to course your flying flags,
+	And leave his navy gazing.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Prithee, peace.
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY with EUPHRONIUS, the Ambassador]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Is that his answer?
+
+EUPHRONIUS	Ay, my lord.
+
+MARK ANTONY	The queen shall then have courtesy, so she
+	Will yield us up.
+
+EUPHRONIUS	                  He says so.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Let her know't.
+	To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head,
+	And he will fill thy wishes to the brim
+	With principalities.
+
+CLEOPATRA	That head, my lord?
+
+MARK ANTONY	To him again: tell him he wears the rose
+	Of youth upon him; from which the world should note
+	Something particular: his coin, ships, legions,
+	May be a coward's; whose ministers would prevail
+	Under the service of a child as soon
+	As i' the command of Caesar: I dare him therefore
+	To lay his gay comparisons apart,
+	And answer me declined, sword against sword,
+	Ourselves alone. I'll write it: follow me.
+
+	[Exeunt MARK ANTONY and EUPHRONIUS]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside]  Yes, like enough, high-battled Caesar will
+	Unstate his happiness, and be staged to the show,
+	Against a sworder! I see men's judgments are
+	A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward
+	Do draw the inward quality after them,
+	To suffer all alike. That he should dream,
+	Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will
+	Answer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subdued
+	His judgment too.
+
+	[Enter an Attendant]
+
+Attendant	                  A messenger from CAESAR.
+
+CLEOPATRA	What, no more ceremony? See, my women!
+	Against the blown rose may they stop their nose
+	That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, sir.
+
+	[Exit Attendant]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside]  Mine honesty and I begin to square.
+	The loyalty well held to fools does make
+	Our faith mere folly: yet he that can endure
+	To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord
+	Does conquer him that did his master conquer
+	And earns a place i' the story.
+
+	[Enter THYREUS]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Caesar's will?
+
+THYREUS	Hear it apart.
+
+CLEOPATRA	                  None but friends: say boldly.
+
+THYREUS	So, haply, are they friends to Antony.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has;
+	Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master
+	Will leap to be his friend: for us, you know,
+	Whose he is we are, and that is, Caesar's.
+
+THYREUS	So.
+	Thus then, thou most renown'd: Caesar entreats,
+	Not to consider in what case thou stand'st,
+	Further than he is Caesar.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Go on: right royal.
+
+THYREUS	He knows that you embrace not Antony
+	As you did love, but as you fear'd him.
+
+CLEOPATRA	O!
+
+THYREUS	The scars upon your honour, therefore, he
+	Does pity, as constrained blemishes,
+	Not as deserved.
+
+CLEOPATRA	                  He is a god, and knows
+	What is most right: mine honour was not yielded,
+	But conquer'd merely.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside]             To be sure of that,
+	I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky,
+	That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for
+	Thy dearest quit thee.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+THYREUS	Shall I say to Caesar
+	What you require of him? for he partly begs
+	To be desired to give. It much would please him,
+	That of his fortunes you should make a staff
+	To lean upon: but it would warm his spirits,
+	To hear from me you had left Antony,
+	And put yourself under his shrowd,
+	The universal landlord.
+
+CLEOPATRA	What's your name?
+
+THYREUS	My name is Thyreus.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Most kind messenger,
+	Say to great Caesar this: in deputation
+	I kiss his conquering hand: tell him, I am prompt
+	To lay my crown at 's feet, and there to kneel:
+	Tell him from his all-obeying breath I hear
+	The doom of Egypt.
+
+THYREUS	'Tis your noblest course.
+	Wisdom and fortune combating together,
+	If that the former dare but what it can,
+	No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay
+	My duty on your hand.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Your Caesar's father oft,
+	When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in,
+	Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place,
+	As it rain'd kisses.
+
+	[Re-enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Favours, by Jove that thunders!
+	What art thou, fellow?
+
+THYREUS	One that but performs
+	The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest
+	To have command obey'd.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside]               You will be whipp'd.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Approach, there! Ah, you kite! Now, gods
+	and devils!
+	Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried 'Ho!'
+	Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth,
+	And cry 'Your will?' Have you no ears? I am
+	Antony yet.
+
+	[Enter Attendants]
+
+	Take hence this Jack, and whip him.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside]  'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp
+	Than with an old one dying.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Moon and stars!
+	Whip him. Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries
+	That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them
+	So saucy with the hand of she here,--what's her name,
+	Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows,
+	Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face,
+	And whine aloud for mercy: take him hence.
+
+THYREUS	Mark Antony!
+
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  Tug him away: being whipp'd,
+	Bring him again: this Jack of Caesar's shall
+	Bear us an errand to him.
+
+	[Exeunt Attendants with THYREUS]
+
+	You were half blasted ere I knew you: ha!
+	Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome,
+	Forborne the getting of a lawful race,
+	And by a gem of women, to be abused
+	By one that looks on feeders?
+
+CLEOPATRA	Good my lord,--
+
+MARK ANTONY	You have been a boggler ever:
+	But when we in our viciousness grow hard--
+	O misery on't!--the wise gods seel our eyes;
+	In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us
+	Adore our errors; laugh at's, while we strut
+	To our confusion.
+
+CLEOPATRA	                  O, is't come to this?
+
+MARK ANTONY	I found you as a morsel cold upon
+	Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment
+	Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours,
+	Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have
+	Luxuriously pick'd out: for, I am sure,
+	Though you can guess what temperance should be,
+	You know not what it is.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Wherefore is this?
+
+MARK ANTONY	To let a fellow that will take rewards
+	And say 'God quit you!' be familiar with
+	My playfellow, your hand; this kingly seal
+	And plighter of high hearts! O, that I were
+	Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar
+	The horned herd! for I have savage cause;
+	And to proclaim it civilly, were like
+	A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank
+	For being yare about him.
+
+	[Re-enter Attendants with THYREUS]
+
+		    Is he whipp'd?
+
+First Attendant	Soundly, my lord.
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  Cried he? and begg'd a' pardon?
+
+First Attendant	He did ask favour.
+
+MARK ANTONY	If that thy father live, let him repent
+	Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry
+	To follow Caesar in his triumph, since
+	Thou hast been whipp'd for following him: henceforth
+	The white hand of a lady fever thee,
+	Shake thou to look on 't. Get thee back to Caesar,
+	Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou say
+	He makes me angry with him; for he seems
+	Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am,
+	Not what he knew I was: he makes me angry;
+	And at this time most easy 'tis to do't,
+	When my good stars, that were my former guides,
+	Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires
+	Into the abysm of hell. If he mislike
+	My speech and what is done, tell him he has
+	Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom
+	He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
+	As he shall like, to quit me: urge it thou:
+	Hence with thy stripes, begone!
+
+	[Exit THYREUS]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Have you done yet?
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  Alack, our terrene moon
+	Is now eclipsed; and it portends alone
+	The fall of Antony!
+
+CLEOPATRA	I must stay his time.
+
+MARK ANTONY	To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes
+	With one that ties his points?
+
+CLEOPATRA	Not know me yet?
+
+MARK ANTONY	Cold-hearted toward me?
+
+CLEOPATRA	Ah, dear, if I be so,
+	From my cold heart let heaven engender hail,
+	And poison it in the source; and the first stone
+	Drop in my neck: as it determines, so
+	Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite!
+	Till by degrees the memory of my womb,
+	Together with my brave Egyptians all,
+	By the discandying of this pelleted storm,
+	Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile
+	Have buried them for prey!
+
+MARK ANTONY	I am satisfied.
+	Caesar sits down in Alexandria; where
+	I will oppose his fate. Our force by land
+	Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too
+	Have knit again, and fleet, threatening most sea-like.
+	Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady?
+	If from the field I shall return once more
+	To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood;
+	I and my sword will earn our chronicle:
+	There's hope in't yet.
+
+CLEOPATRA	That's my brave lord!
+
+MARK ANTONY	I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breathed,
+	And fight maliciously: for when mine hours
+	Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives
+	Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth,
+	And send to darkness all that stop me. Come,
+	Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me
+	All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more;
+	Let's mock the midnight bell.
+
+CLEOPATRA	It is my birth-day:
+	I had thought to have held it poor: but, since my lord
+	Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.
+
+MARK ANTONY	We will yet do well.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Call all his noble captains to my lord.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force
+	The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen;
+	There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight,
+	I'll make death love me; for I will contend
+	Even with his pestilent scythe.
+
+	[Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious,
+	Is to be frighted out of fear; and in that mood
+	The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still,
+	A diminution in our captain's brain
+	Restores his heart: when valour preys on reason,
+	It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek
+	Some way to leave him.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp.
+
+
+	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS, with
+	his Army; OCTAVIUS CAESAR reading a letter]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power
+	To beat me out of Egypt; my messenger
+	He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal combat,
+	Caesar to Antony: let the old ruffian know
+	I have many other ways to die; meantime
+	Laugh at his challenge.
+
+MECAENAS	Caesar must think,
+	When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted
+	Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now
+	Make boot of his distraction: never anger
+	Made good guard for itself.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Let our best heads
+	Know, that to-morrow the last of many battles
+	We mean to fight: within our files there are,
+	Of those that served Mark Antony but late,
+	Enough to fetch him in. See it done:
+	And feast the army; we have store to do't,
+	And they have earn'd the waste. Poor Antony!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS,
+	CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, with others]
+
+MARK ANTONY	He will not fight with me, Domitius.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	No.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Why should he not?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,
+	He is twenty men to one.
+
+MARK ANTONY	To-morrow, soldier,
+	By sea and land I'll fight: or I will live,
+	Or bathe my dying honour in the blood
+	Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I'll strike, and cry 'Take all.'
+
+MARK ANTONY	Well said; come on.
+	Call forth my household servants: let's to-night
+	Be bounteous at our meal.
+
+	[Enter three or four Servitors]
+
+		    Give me thy hand,
+	Thou hast been rightly honest;--so hast thou;--
+	Thou,--and thou,--and thou:--you have served me well,
+	And kings have been your fellows.
+
+CLEOPATRA	[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]  What means this?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside to CLEOPATRA]  'Tis one of those odd
+	tricks which sorrow shoots
+	Out of the mind.
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  And thou art honest too.
+	I wish I could be made so many men,
+	And all of you clapp'd up together in
+	An Antony, that I might do you service
+	So good as you have done.
+
+All	The gods forbid!
+
+MARK ANTONY	Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night:
+	Scant not my cups; and make as much of me
+	As when mine empire was your fellow too,
+	And suffer'd my command.
+
+CLEOPATRA	[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]  What does he mean?
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside to CLEOPATRA]  To make his followers weep.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Tend me to-night;
+	May be it is the period of your duty:
+	Haply you shall not see me more; or if,
+	A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow
+	You'll serve another master. I look on you
+	As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends,
+	I turn you not away; but, like a master
+	Married to your good service, stay till death:
+	Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more,
+	And the gods yield you for't!
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	What mean you, sir,
+	To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep;
+	And I, an ass, am onion-eyed: for shame,
+	Transform us not to women.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Ho, ho, ho!
+	Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus!
+	Grace grow where those drops fall!
+	My hearty friends,
+	You take me in too dolorous a sense;
+	For I spake to you for your comfort; did desire you
+	To burn this night with torches: know, my hearts,
+	I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you
+	Where rather I'll expect victorious life
+	Than death and honour. Let's to supper, come,
+	And drown consideration.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. Before the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter two Soldiers to their guard]
+
+First Soldier	Brother, good night: to-morrow is the day.
+
+Second Soldier	It will determine one way: fare you well.
+	Heard you of nothing strange about the streets?
+
+First Soldier	Nothing. What news?
+
+Second Soldier	Belike 'tis but a rumour. Good night to you.
+
+First Soldier	Well, sir, good night.
+
+	[Enter two other Soldiers]
+
+Second Soldier	Soldiers, have careful watch.
+
+Third Soldier	And you. Good night, good night.
+
+	[They place themselves in every corner of the stage]
+
+Fourth Soldier	Here we: and if to-morrow
+	Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope
+	Our landmen will stand up.
+
+Third Soldier	'Tis a brave army,
+	And full of purpose.
+
+	[Music of the hautboys as under the stage]
+
+Fourth Soldier	Peace! what noise?
+
+First Soldier	List, list!
+
+Second Soldier	Hark!
+
+First Soldier	    Music i' the air.
+
+Third Soldier	Under the earth.
+
+Fourth Soldier	It signs well, does it not?
+
+Third Soldier	No.
+
+First Soldier	Peace, I say!
+	What should this mean?
+
+Second Soldier	'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved,
+	Now leaves him.
+
+First Soldier	Walk; let's see if other watchmen
+	Do hear what we do?
+
+	[They advance to another post]
+
+Second Soldier	How now, masters!
+
+All	[Speaking together]  How now!
+	How now! do you hear this?
+
+First Soldier	Ay; is't not strange?
+
+Third Soldier	Do you hear, masters? do you hear?
+
+First Soldier	Follow the noise so far as we have quarter;
+	Let's see how it will give off.
+
+All	Content. 'Tis strange.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The same. A room in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and
+	others attending]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Eros! mine armour, Eros!
+
+CLEOPATRA	Sleep a little.
+
+MARK ANTONY	No, my chuck. Eros, come; mine armour, Eros!
+
+	[Enter EROS with armour]
+
+	Come good fellow, put mine iron on:
+	If fortune be not ours to-day, it is
+	Because we brave her: come.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Nay, I'll help too.
+	What's this for?
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  Ah, let be, let be! thou art
+	The armourer of my heart: false, false; this, this.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Sooth, la, I'll help: thus it must be.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Well, well;
+	We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good fellow?
+	Go put on thy defences.
+
+EROS	Briefly, sir.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Is not this buckled well?
+
+MARK ANTONY	Rarely, rarely:
+	He that unbuckles this, till we do please
+	To daff't for our repose, shall hear a storm.
+	Thou fumblest, Eros; and my queen's a squire
+	More tight at this than thou: dispatch. O love,
+	That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew'st
+	The royal occupation! thou shouldst see
+	A workman in't.
+
+	[Enter an armed Soldier]
+
+	Good morrow to thee; welcome:
+	Thou look'st like him that knows a warlike charge:
+	To business that we love we rise betime,
+	And go to't with delight.
+
+Soldier	A thousand, sir,
+	Early though't be, have on their riveted trim,
+	And at the port expect you.
+
+	[Shout. Trumpets flourish]
+
+	[Enter Captains and Soldiers]
+
+Captain	The morn is fair. Good morrow, general.
+
+All	Good morrow, general.
+
+MARK ANTONY	'Tis well blown, lads:
+	This morning, like the spirit of a youth
+	That means to be of note, begins betimes.
+	So, so; come, give me that: this way; well said.
+	Fare thee well, dame, whate'er becomes of me:
+	This is a soldier's kiss: rebukeable
+
+	[Kisses her]
+
+	And worthy shameful cheque it were, to stand
+	On more mechanic compliment; I'll leave thee
+	Now, like a man of steel. You that will fight,
+	Follow me close; I'll bring you to't. Adieu.
+
+	[Exeunt MARK ANTONY, EROS, Captains, and Soldiers]
+
+CHARMIAN	Please you, retire to your chamber.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Lead me.
+	He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar might
+	Determine this great war in single fight!
+	Then Antony,--but now--Well, on.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Alexandria. MARK ANTONY's camp.
+
+
+	[Trumpets sound. Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS; a
+	Soldier meeting them]
+
+Soldier	The gods make this a happy day to Antony!
+
+MARK ANTONY	Would thou and those thy scars had once prevail'd
+	To make me fight at land!
+
+Soldier	Hadst thou done so,
+	The kings that have revolted, and the soldier
+	That has this morning left thee, would have still
+	Follow'd thy heels.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Who's gone this morning?
+
+Soldier	Who!
+	One ever near thee: call for Enobarbus,
+	He shall not hear thee; or from Caesar's camp
+	Say 'I am none of thine.'
+
+MARK ANTONY	What say'st thou?
+
+Soldier	Sir,
+	He is with Caesar.
+
+EROS	                  Sir, his chests and treasure
+	He has not with him.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Is he gone?
+
+Soldier	Most certain.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it;
+	Detain no jot, I charge thee: write to him--
+	I will subscribe--gentle adieus and greetings;
+	Say that I wish he never find more cause
+	To change a master. O, my fortunes have
+	Corrupted honest men! Dispatch.--Enobarbus!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, with
+	DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, and others]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight:
+	Our will is Antony be took alive;
+	Make it so known.
+
+AGRIPPA	Caesar, I shall.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	The time of universal peace is near:
+	Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook'd world
+	Shall bear the olive freely.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	Antony
+	Is come into the field.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Go charge Agrippa
+	Plant those that have revolted in the van,
+	That Antony may seem to spend his fury
+	Upon himself.
+
+	[Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Alexas did revolt; and went to Jewry on
+	Affairs of Antony; there did persuade
+	Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar,
+	And leave his master Antony: for this pains
+	Caesar hath hang'd him. Canidius and the rest
+	That fell away have entertainment, but
+	No honourable trust. I have done ill;
+	Of which I do accuse myself so sorely,
+	That I will joy no more.
+
+	[Enter a Soldier of CAESAR's]
+
+Soldier	Enobarbus, Antony
+	Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with
+	His bounty overplus: the messenger
+	Came on my guard; and at thy tent is now
+	Unloading of his mules.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I give it you.
+
+Soldier	Mock not, Enobarbus.
+	I tell you true: best you safed the bringer
+	Out of the host; I must attend mine office,
+	Or would have done't myself. Your emperor
+	Continues still a Jove.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I am alone the villain of the earth,
+	And feel I am so most. O Antony,
+	Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid
+	My better service, when my turpitude
+	Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart:
+	If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean
+	Shall outstrike thought: but thought will do't, I feel.
+	I fight against thee! No: I will go seek
+	Some ditch wherein to die; the foul'st best fits
+	My latter part of life.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Field of battle between the camps.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Drums and trumpets. Enter AGRIPPA
+	and others]
+
+AGRIPPA	Retire, we have engaged ourselves too far:
+	Caesar himself has work, and our oppression
+	Exceeds what we expected.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Alarums. Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS wounded]
+
+SCARUS	O my brave emperor, this is fought indeed!
+	Had we done so at first, we had droven them home
+	With clouts about their heads.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Thou bleed'st apace.
+
+SCARUS	I had a wound here that was like a T,
+	But now 'tis made an H.
+
+MARK ANTONY	They do retire.
+
+SCARUS	We'll beat 'em into bench-holes: I have yet
+	Room for six scotches more.
+
+	[Enter EROS]
+
+EROS	They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves
+	For a fair victory.
+
+SCARUS	Let us score their backs,
+	And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind:
+	'Tis sport to maul a runner.
+
+MARK ANTONY	I will reward thee
+	Once for thy spritely comfort, and ten-fold
+	For thy good valour. Come thee on.
+
+SCARUS	I'll halt after.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII	Under the walls of Alexandria.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Enter MARK ANTONY, in a march; SCARUS,
+	with others]
+
+MARK ANTONY	We have beat him to his camp: run one before,
+	And let the queen know of our gests. To-morrow,
+	Before the sun shall see 's, we'll spill the blood
+	That has to-day escaped. I thank you all;
+	For doughty-handed are you, and have fought
+	Not as you served the cause, but as 't had been
+	Each man's like mine; you have shown all Hectors.
+	Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends,
+	Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears
+	Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss
+	The honour'd gashes whole.
+
+	[To SCARUS]
+
+		    Give me thy hand
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA, attended]
+
+	To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts,
+	Make her thanks bless thee.
+
+	[To CLEOPATRA]
+
+		      O thou day o' the world,
+	Chain mine arm'd neck; leap thou, attire and all,
+	Through proof of harness to my heart, and there
+	Ride on the pants triumphing!
+
+CLEOPATRA	Lord of lords!
+	O infinite virtue, comest thou smiling from
+	The world's great snare uncaught?
+
+MARK ANTONY	My nightingale,
+	We have beat them to their beds. What, girl!
+	though grey
+	Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha' we
+	A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can
+	Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man;
+	Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand:
+	Kiss it, my warrior: he hath fought to-day
+	As if a god, in hate of mankind, had
+	Destroy'd in such a shape.
+
+CLEOPATRA	I'll give thee, friend,
+	An armour all of gold; it was a king's.
+
+MARK ANTONY	He has deserved it, were it carbuncled
+	Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand:
+	Through Alexandria make a jolly march;
+	Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them:
+	Had our great palace the capacity
+	To camp this host, we all would sup together,
+	And drink carouses to the next day's fate,
+	Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters,
+	With brazen din blast you the city's ear;
+	Make mingle with rattling tabourines;
+	That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together,
+	Applauding our approach.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IX	OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp.
+
+
+	[Sentinels at their post]
+
+First Soldier	If we be not relieved within this hour,
+	We must return to the court of guard: the night
+	Is shiny; and they say we shall embattle
+	By the second hour i' the morn.
+
+Second Soldier	This last day was
+	A shrewd one to's.
+
+	[Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	                  O, bear me witness, night,--
+
+Third Soldier	What man is this?
+
+Second Soldier	                  Stand close, and list him.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon,
+	When men revolted shall upon record
+	Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did
+	Before thy face repent!
+
+First Soldier	Enobarbus!
+
+Third Soldier	Peace!
+	Hark further.
+
+DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	O sovereign mistress of true melancholy,
+	The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me,
+	That life, a very rebel to my will,
+	May hang no longer on me: throw my heart
+	Against the flint and hardness of my fault:
+	Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder,
+	And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony,
+	Nobler than my revolt is infamous,
+	Forgive me in thine own particular;
+	But let the world rank me in register
+	A master-leaver and a fugitive:
+	O Antony! O Antony!
+
+	[Dies]
+
+Second Soldier	Let's speak To him.
+
+First Soldier	Let's hear him, for the things he speaks
+	May concern Caesar.
+
+Third Soldier	Let's do so. But he sleeps.
+
+First Soldier	Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his
+	Was never yet for sleep.
+
+Second Soldier	Go we to him.
+
+Third Soldier	Awake, sir, awake; speak to us.
+
+Second Soldier	Hear you, sir?
+
+First Soldier	The hand of death hath raught him.
+
+	[Drums afar off]
+
+		                  Hark! the drums
+	Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him
+	To the court of guard; he is of note: our hour
+	Is fully out.
+
+Third Soldier	Come on, then;
+	He may recover yet.
+
+	[Exeunt with the body]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE X	Between the two camps.
+
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS, with their Army]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Their preparation is to-day by sea;
+	We please them not by land.
+
+SCARUS	For both, my lord.
+
+MARK ANTONY	I would they'ld fight i' the fire or i' the air;
+	We'ld fight there too. But this it is; our foot
+	Upon the hills adjoining to the city
+	Shall stay with us: order for sea is given;
+	They have put forth the haven [           ]
+	Where their appointment we may best discover,
+	And look on their endeavour.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE XI	Another part of the same.
+
+
+	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and his Army]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	But being charged, we will be still by land,
+	Which, as I take't, we shall; for his best force
+	Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales,
+	And hold our best advantage.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE XII	Another part of the same.
+
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Yet they are not join'd: where yond pine
+	does stand,
+	I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word
+	Straight, how 'tis like to go.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SCARUS	Swallows have built
+	In Cleopatra's sails their nests: the augurers
+	Say they know not, they cannot tell; look grimly,
+	And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony
+	Is valiant, and dejected; and, by starts,
+	His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear,
+	Of what he has, and has not.
+
+	[Alarum afar off, as at a sea-fight]
+
+	[Re-enter MARK ANTONY]
+
+MARK ANTONY	All is lost;
+	This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me:
+	My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder
+	They cast their caps up and carouse together
+	Like friends long lost. Triple-turn'd whore!
+	'tis thou
+	Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart
+	Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly;
+	For when I am revenged upon my charm,
+	I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone.
+
+	[Exit SCARUS]
+
+	O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more:
+	Fortune and Antony part here; even here
+	Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts
+	That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave
+	Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
+	On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark'd,
+	That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am:
+	O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,--
+	Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home;
+	Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,--
+	Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose,
+	Beguiled me to the very heart of loss.
+	What, Eros, Eros!
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA]
+
+	Ah, thou spell! Avaunt!
+
+CLEOPATRA	Why is my lord enraged against his love?
+
+MARK ANTONY	Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving,
+	And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee,
+	And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians:
+	Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot
+	Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown
+	For poor'st diminutives, for doits; and let
+	Patient Octavia plough thy visage up
+	With her prepared nails.
+
+	[Exit CLEOPATRA]
+
+		'Tis well thou'rt gone,
+	If it be well to live; but better 'twere
+	Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death
+	Might have prevented many. Eros, ho!
+	The shirt of Nessus is upon me: teach me,
+	Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage:
+	Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon;
+	And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club,
+	Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die:
+	To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall
+	Under this plot; she dies for't. Eros, ho!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE XIII	Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Help me, my women! O, he is more mad
+	Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly
+	Was never so emboss'd.
+
+CHARMIAN	To the monument!
+	There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead.
+	The soul and body rive not more in parting
+	Than greatness going off.
+
+CLEOPATRA	To the monument!
+	Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself;
+	Say, that the last I spoke was 'Antony,'
+	And word it, prithee, piteously: hence, Mardian,
+	And bring me how he takes my death.
+	To the monument!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE XIV	The same. Another room.
+
+
+	[Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Eros, thou yet behold'st me?
+
+EROS	Ay, noble lord.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish;
+	A vapour sometime like a bear or lion,
+	A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock,
+	A forked mountain, or blue promontory
+	With trees upon't, that nod unto the world,
+	And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen
+	these signs;
+	They are black vesper's pageants.
+
+EROS	Ay, my lord,
+
+MARK ANTONY	That which is now a horse, even with a thought
+	The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct,
+	As water is in water.
+
+EROS	It does, my lord.
+
+MARK ANTONY	My good knave Eros, now thy captain is
+	Even such a body: here I am Antony:
+	Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave.
+	I made these wars for Egypt: and the queen,--
+	Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine;
+	Which whilst it was mine had annex'd unto't
+	A million more, now lost,--she, Eros, has
+	Pack'd cards with Caesar, and false-play'd my glory
+	Unto an enemy's triumph.
+	Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us
+	Ourselves to end ourselves.
+
+	[Enter MARDIAN]
+
+		      O! thy vile lady!
+	She has robb'd me of my sword.
+
+MARDIAN	No, Antony;
+	My mistress loved thee, and her fortunes mingled
+	With thine entirely.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Hence, saucy eunuch; peace!
+	She hath betray'd me and shall die the death.
+
+MARDIAN	Death of one person can be paid but once,
+	And that she has discharged: what thou wouldst do
+	Is done unto thy hand: the last she spake
+	Was 'Antony! most noble Antony!'
+	Then in the midst a tearing groan did break
+	The name of Antony; it was divided
+	Between her heart and lips: she render'd life,
+	Thy name so buried in her.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Dead, then?
+
+MARDIAN	Dead.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done,
+	And we must sleep.
+
+	[To MARDIAN]
+
+	That thou depart'st hence safe,
+	Does pay thy labour richly; go.
+
+	[Exit MARDIAN]
+
+		         Off, pluck off:
+	The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep
+	The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides!
+	Heart, once be stronger than thy continent,
+	Crack thy frail case! Apace, Eros, apace.
+	No more a soldier: bruised pieces, go;
+	You have been nobly borne. From me awhile.
+
+	[Exit EROS]
+
+	I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
+	Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now
+	All length is torture: since the torch is out,
+	Lie down, and stray no farther: now all labour
+	Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles
+	Itself with strength: seal then, and all is done.
+	Eros!--I come, my queen:--Eros!--Stay for me:
+	Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand,
+	And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze:
+	Dido and her AEneas shall want troops,
+	And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros!
+
+	[Re-enter EROS]
+
+EROS	What would my lord?
+
+MARK ANTONY	Since Cleopatra died,
+	I have lived in such dishonour, that the gods
+	Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword
+	Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back
+	With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack
+	The courage of a woman; less noble mind
+	Than she which by her death our Caesar tells
+	'I am conqueror of myself.' Thou art sworn, Eros,
+	That, when the exigent should come, which now
+	Is come indeed, when I should see behind me
+	The inevitable prosecution of
+	Disgrace and horror, that, on my command,
+	Thou then wouldst kill me: do't; the time is come:
+	Thou strikest not me, 'tis Caesar thou defeat'st.
+	Put colour in thy cheek.
+
+EROS	The gods withhold me!
+	Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts,
+	Though enemy, lost aim, and could not?
+
+MARK ANTONY	Eros,
+	Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome and see
+	Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down
+	His corrigible neck, his face subdued
+	To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat
+	Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded
+	His baseness that ensued?
+
+EROS	I would not see't.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured.
+	Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn
+	Most useful for thy country.
+
+EROS	O, sir, pardon me!
+
+MARK ANTONY	When I did make thee free, sworest thou not then
+	To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once;
+	Or thy precedent services are all
+	But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come.
+
+EROS	Turn from me, then, that noble countenance,
+	Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Lo thee!
+
+	[Turning from him]
+
+EROS	My sword is drawn.
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  Then let it do at once
+	The thing why thou hast drawn it.
+
+EROS	My dear master,
+	My captain, and my emperor, let me say,
+	Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.
+
+MARK ANTONY	'Tis said, man; and farewell.
+
+EROS	Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now?
+
+MARK ANTONY	Now, Eros.
+
+EROS	Why, there then: thus I do escape the sorrow
+	Of Antony's death.
+
+	[Kills himself]
+
+MARK ANTONY	                  Thrice-nobler than myself!
+	Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what
+	I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros
+	Have by their brave instruction got upon me
+	A nobleness in record: but I will be
+	A bridegroom in my death, and run into't
+	As to a lover's bed. Come, then; and, Eros,
+	Thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus
+
+	[Falling on his sword]
+
+	I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead?
+	The guard, ho! O, dispatch me!
+
+	[Enter DERCETAS and Guard]
+
+First Guard	What's the noise?
+
+MARK ANTONY	I have done my work in, friends: O, make an end
+	Of what I have begun.
+
+Second Guard	The star is fall'n.
+
+First Guard	And time is at his period.
+
+All	Alas, and woe!
+
+MARK ANTONY	Let him that loves me strike me dead.
+
+First Guard	Not I.
+
+Second Guard	Nor I.
+
+Third Guard	Nor any one.
+
+	[Exeunt Guard]
+
+DERCETAS	Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly.
+	This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings,
+	Shall enter me with him.
+
+	[Enter DIOMEDES]
+
+DIOMEDES	Where's Antony?
+
+DERCETAS	                  There, Diomed there.
+
+DIOMEDES	Lives he?
+	Wilt thou not answer, man?
+
+	[Exit DERCETAS]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me
+	Sufficing strokes for death.
+
+DIOMEDES	Most absolute lord,
+	My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.
+
+MARK ANTONY	When did she send thee?
+
+DIOMEDES	Now, my lord.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Where is she?
+
+DIOMEDES	Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear
+	Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw--
+	Which never shall be found--you did suspect
+	She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage
+	Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead;
+	But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent
+	Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come,
+	I dread, too late.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Too late, good Diomed: call my guard, I prithee.
+
+DIOMEDES	What, ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho!
+	Come, your lord calls!
+
+	[Enter four or five of the Guard of MARK ANTONY]
+
+MARK ANTONY	Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides;
+	'Tis the last service that I shall command you.
+
+First Guard	Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear
+	All your true followers out.
+
+All	Most heavy day!
+
+MARK ANTONY	Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate
+	To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome
+	Which comes to punish us, and we punish it
+	Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up:
+	I have led you oft: carry me now, good friends,
+	And have my thanks for all.
+
+	[Exeunt, bearing MARK ANTONY]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE XV	The same. A monument.
+
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids aloft, with
+	CHARMIAN and IRAS]
+
+CLEOPATRA	O Charmian, I will never go from hence.
+
+CHARMIAN	Be comforted, dear madam.
+
+CLEOPATRA	No, I will not:
+	All strange and terrible events are welcome,
+	But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow,
+	Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great
+	As that which makes it.
+
+	[Enter, below, DIOMEDES]
+
+		  How now! is he dead?
+
+DIOMEDES	His death's upon him, but not dead.
+	Look out o' the other side your monument;
+	His guard have brought him thither.
+
+	[Enter, below, MARK ANTONY, borne by the Guard]
+
+CLEOPATRA	O sun,
+	Burn the great sphere thou movest in!
+	darkling stand
+	The varying shore o' the world. O Antony,
+	Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help;
+	Help, friends below; let's draw him hither.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Peace!
+	Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
+	But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself.
+
+CLEOPATRA	So it should be, that none but Antony
+	Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so!
+
+MARK ANTONY	I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
+	I here importune death awhile, until
+	Of many thousand kisses the poor last
+	I lay up thy lips.
+
+CLEOPATRA	                  I dare not, dear,--
+	Dear my lord, pardon,--I dare not,
+	Lest I be taken: not the imperious show
+	Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall
+	Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs,
+	serpents, have
+	Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe:
+	Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes
+	And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour
+	Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,--
+	Help me, my women,--we must draw thee up:
+	Assist, good friends.
+
+MARK ANTONY	O, quick, or I am gone.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Here's sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord!
+	Our strength is all gone into heaviness,
+	That makes the weight: had I great Juno's power,
+	The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up,
+	And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,--
+	Wishes were ever fools,--O, come, come, come;
+
+	[They heave MARK ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRA]
+
+	And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived:
+	Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power,
+	Thus would I wear them out.
+
+All	A heavy sight!
+
+MARK ANTONY	I am dying, Egypt, dying:
+	Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.
+
+CLEOPATRA	No, let me speak; and let me rail so high,
+	That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel,
+	Provoked by my offence.
+
+MARK ANTONY	One word, sweet queen:
+	Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O!
+
+CLEOPATRA	They do not go together.
+
+MARK ANTONY	Gentle, hear me:
+	None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.
+
+CLEOPATRA	My resolution and my hands I'll trust;
+	None about Caesar.
+
+MARK ANTONY	The miserable change now at my end
+	Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts
+	In feeding them with those my former fortunes
+	Wherein I lived, the greatest prince o' the world,
+	The noblest; and do now not basely die,
+	Not cowardly put off my helmet to
+	My countryman,--a Roman by a Roman
+	Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going;
+	I can no more.
+
+CLEOPATRA	                  Noblest of men, woo't die?
+	Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide
+	In this dull world, which in thy absence is
+	No better than a sty? O, see, my women,
+
+	[MARK ANTONY dies]
+
+	The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord!
+	O, wither'd is the garland of the war,
+	The soldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girls
+	Are level now with men; the odds is gone,
+	And there is nothing left remarkable
+	Beneath the visiting moon.
+
+	[Faints]
+
+CHARMIAN	O, quietness, lady!
+
+IRAS	She is dead too, our sovereign.
+
+CHARMIAN	Lady!
+
+IRAS	Madam!
+
+CHARMIAN	O madam, madam, madam!
+
+IRAS	Royal Egypt, Empress!
+
+CHARMIAN	Peace, peace, Iras!
+
+CLEOPATRA	No more, but e'en a woman, and commanded
+	By such poor passion as the maid that milks
+	And does the meanest chares. It were for me
+	To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods;
+	To tell them that this world did equal theirs
+	Till they had stol'n our jewel. All's but naught;
+	Patience is scottish, and impatience does
+	Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin
+	To rush into the secret house of death,
+	Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women?
+	What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian!
+	My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look,
+	Our lamp is spent, it's out! Good sirs, take heart:
+	We'll bury him; and then, what's brave,
+	what's noble,
+	Let's do it after the high Roman fashion,
+	And make death proud to take us. Come, away:
+	This case of that huge spirit now is cold:
+	Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend
+	But resolution, and the briefest end.
+
+	[Exeunt; those above bearing off MARK ANTONY's body]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp.
+
+
+	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECAENAS,
+	GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and others, his council of war]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;
+	Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks
+	The pauses that he makes.
+
+DOLABELLA	Caesar, I shall.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter DERCETAS, with the sword of MARK ANTONY]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Wherefore is that? and what art thou that darest
+	Appear thus to us?
+
+DERCETAS	                  I am call'd Dercetas;
+	Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy
+	Best to be served: whilst he stood up and spoke,
+	He was my master; and I wore my life
+	To spend upon his haters. If thou please
+	To take me to thee, as I was to him
+	I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not,
+	I yield thee up my life.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	What is't thou say'st?
+
+DERCETAS	I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	The breaking of so great a thing should make
+	A greater crack: the round world
+	Should have shook lions into civil streets,
+	And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony
+	Is not a single doom; in the name lay
+	A moiety of the world.
+
+DERCETAS	He is dead, Caesar:
+	Not by a public minister of justice,
+	Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand,
+	Which writ his honour in the acts it did,
+	Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,
+	Splitted the heart. This is his sword;
+	I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd
+	With his most noble blood.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Look you sad, friends?
+	The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings
+	To wash the eyes of kings.
+
+AGRIPPA	And strange it is,
+	That nature must compel us to lament
+	Our most persisted deeds.
+
+MECAENAS	His taints and honours
+	Waged equal with him.
+
+AGRIPPA	A rarer spirit never
+	Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us
+	Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch'd.
+
+MECAENAS	When such a spacious mirror's set before him,
+	He needs must see himself.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	O Antony!
+	I have follow'd thee to this; but we do lance
+	Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce
+	Have shown to thee such a declining day,
+	Or look on thine; we could not stall together
+	In the whole world: but yet let me lament,
+	With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,
+	That thou, my brother, my competitor
+	In top of all design, my mate in empire,
+	Friend and companion in the front of war,
+	The arm of mine own body, and the heart
+	Where mine his thoughts did kindle,--that our stars,
+	Unreconciliable, should divide
+	Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends--
+	But I will tell you at some meeter season:
+
+	[Enter an Egyptian]
+
+	The business of this man looks out of him;
+	We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you?
+
+Egyptian	A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress,
+	Confined in all she has, her monument,
+	Of thy intents desires instruction,
+	That she preparedly may frame herself
+	To the way she's forced to.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Bid her have good heart:
+	She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,
+	How honourable and how kindly we
+	Determine for her; for Caesar cannot live
+	To be ungentle.
+
+Egyptian	So the gods preserve thee!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say,
+	We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts
+	The quality of her passion shall require,
+	Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke
+	She do defeat us; for her life in Rome
+	Would be eternal in our triumph: go,
+	And with your speediest bring us what she says,
+	And how you find of her.
+
+PROCULEIUS	Caesar, I shall.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Gallus, go you along.
+
+	[Exit GALLUS]
+
+		Where's Dolabella,
+	To second Proculeius?
+
+All	Dolabella!
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Let him alone, for I remember now
+	How he's employ'd: he shall in time be ready.
+	Go with me to my tent; where you shall see
+	How hardly I was drawn into this war;
+	How calm and gentle I proceeded still
+	In all my writings: go with me, and see
+	What I can show in this.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Alexandria. A room in the monument.
+
+
+	[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS]
+
+CLEOPATRA	My desolation does begin to make
+	A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Caesar;
+	Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave,
+	A minister of her will: and it is great
+	To do that thing that ends all other deeds;
+	Which shackles accidents and bolts up change;
+	Which sleeps, and never palates more the dug,
+	The beggar's nurse and Caesar's.
+
+	[Enter, to the gates of the monument, PROCULEIUS,
+	GALLUS and Soldiers]
+
+PROCULEIUS	Caesar sends greeting to the Queen of Egypt;
+	And bids thee study on what fair demands
+	Thou mean'st to have him grant thee.
+
+CLEOPATRA	What's thy name?
+
+PROCULEIUS	My name is Proculeius.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Antony
+	Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but
+	I do not greatly care to be deceived,
+	That have no use for trusting. If your master
+	Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him,
+	That majesty, to keep decorum, must
+	No less beg than a kingdom: if he please
+	To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son,
+	He gives me so much of mine own, as I
+	Will kneel to him with thanks.
+
+PROCULEIUS	Be of good cheer;
+	You're fall'n into a princely hand, fear nothing:
+	Make your full reference freely to my lord,
+	Who is so full of grace, that it flows over
+	On all that need: let me report to him
+	Your sweet dependency; and you shall find
+	A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness,
+	Where he for grace is kneel'd to.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Pray you, tell him
+	I am his fortune's vassal, and I send him
+	The greatness he has got. I hourly learn
+	A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly
+	Look him i' the face.
+
+PROCULEIUS	This I'll report, dear lady.
+	Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied
+	Of him that caused it.
+
+GALLUS	You see how easily she may be surprised:
+
+	[Here PROCULEIUS and two of the Guard ascend the
+	monument by a ladder placed against a window, and,
+	having descended, come behind CLEOPATRA. Some of
+	the Guard unbar and open the gates]
+
+	[To PROCULEIUS and the Guard]
+
+	Guard her till Caesar come.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+IRAS	Royal queen!
+
+CHARMIAN	O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen:
+
+CLEOPATRA	Quick, quick, good hands.
+
+	[Drawing a dagger]
+
+PROCULEIUS	Hold, worthy lady, hold:
+
+	[Seizes and disarms her]
+
+	Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this
+	Relieved, but not betray'd.
+
+CLEOPATRA	What, of death too,
+	That rids our dogs of languish?
+
+PROCULEIUS	Cleopatra,
+	Do not abuse my master's bounty by
+	The undoing of yourself: let the world see
+	His nobleness well acted, which your death
+	Will never let come forth.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Where art thou, death?
+	Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen
+	Worthy many babes and beggars!
+
+PROCULEIUS	O, temperance, lady!
+
+CLEOPATRA	Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir;
+	If idle talk will once be necessary,
+	I'll not sleep neither: this mortal house I'll ruin,
+	Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I
+	Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court;
+	Nor once be chastised with the sober eye
+	Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up
+	And show me to the shouting varletry
+	Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
+	Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud
+	Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies
+	Blow me into abhorring! rather make
+	My country's high pyramides my gibbet,
+	And hang me up in chains!
+
+PROCULEIUS	You do extend
+	These thoughts of horror further than you shall
+	Find cause in Caesar.
+
+	[Enter DOLABELLA]
+
+DOLABELLA	Proculeius,
+	What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows,
+	And he hath sent for thee: for the queen,
+	I'll take her to my guard.
+
+PROCULEIUS	So, Dolabella,
+	It shall content me best: be gentle to her.
+
+	[To CLEOPATRA]
+
+	To Caesar I will speak what you shall please,
+	If you'll employ me to him.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Say, I would die.
+
+	[Exeunt PROCULEIUS and Soldiers]
+
+DOLABELLA	Most noble empress, you have heard of me?
+
+CLEOPATRA	I cannot tell.
+
+DOLABELLA	                  Assuredly you know me.
+
+CLEOPATRA	No matter, sir, what I have heard or known.
+	You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams;
+	Is't not your trick?
+
+DOLABELLA	I understand not, madam.
+
+CLEOPATRA	I dream'd there was an Emperor Antony:
+	O, such another sleep, that I might see
+	But such another man!
+
+DOLABELLA	If it might please ye,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck
+	A sun and moon, which kept their course,
+	and lighted
+	The little O, the earth.
+
+DOLABELLA	Most sovereign creature,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm
+	Crested the world: his voice was propertied
+	As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;
+	But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
+	He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty,
+	There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas
+	That grew the more by reaping: his delights
+	Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back above
+	The element they lived in: in his livery
+	Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were
+	As plates dropp'd from his pocket.
+
+DOLABELLA	Cleopatra!
+
+CLEOPATRA	Think you there was, or might be, such a man
+	As this I dream'd of?
+
+DOLABELLA	Gentle madam, no.
+
+CLEOPATRA	You lie, up to the hearing of the gods.
+	But, if there be, or ever were, one such,
+	It's past the size of dreaming: nature wants stuff
+	To vie strange forms with fancy; yet, to imagine
+	And Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy,
+	Condemning shadows quite.
+
+DOLABELLA	Hear me, good madam.
+	Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it
+	As answering to the weight: would I might never
+	O'ertake pursued success, but I do feel,
+	By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites
+	My very heart at root.
+
+CLEOPATRA	I thank you, sir,
+	Know you what Caesar means to do with me?
+
+DOLABELLA	I am loath to tell you what I would you knew.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Nay, pray you, sir,--
+
+DOLABELLA	Though he be honourable,--
+
+CLEOPATRA	He'll lead me, then, in triumph?
+
+DOLABELLA	Madam, he will; I know't.
+
+	[Flourish, and shout within, 'Make way there:
+	Octavius Caesar!']
+
+	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS,
+	MECAENAS, SELEUCUS, and others of his Train]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Which is the Queen of Egypt?
+
+DOLABELLA	It is the emperor, madam.
+
+	[CLEOPATRA kneels]
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Arise, you shall not kneel:
+	I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Sir, the gods
+	Will have it thus; my master and my lord
+	I must obey.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  Take to you no hard thoughts:
+	The record of what injuries you did us,
+	Though written in our flesh, we shall remember
+	As things but done by chance.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Sole sir o' the world,
+	I cannot project mine own cause so well
+	To make it clear; but do confess I have
+	Been laden with like frailties which before
+	Have often shamed our sex.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Cleopatra, know,
+	We will extenuate rather than enforce:
+	If you apply yourself to our intents,
+	Which towards you are most gentle, you shall find
+	A benefit in this change; but if you seek
+	To lay on me a cruelty, by taking
+	Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself
+	Of my good purposes, and put your children
+	To that destruction which I'll guard them from,
+	If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave.
+
+CLEOPATRA	And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we,
+	Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall
+	Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra.
+
+CLEOPATRA	This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels,
+	I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued;
+	Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus?
+
+SELEUCUS	Here, madam.
+
+CLEOPATRA	This is my treasurer: let him speak, my lord,
+	Upon his peril, that I have reserved
+	To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus.
+
+SELEUCUS	Madam,
+	I had rather seal my lips, than, to my peril,
+	Speak that which is not.
+
+CLEOPATRA	What have I kept back?
+
+SELEUCUS	Enough to purchase what you have made known.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve
+	Your wisdom in the deed.
+
+CLEOPATRA	See, Caesar! O, behold,
+	How pomp is follow'd! mine will now be yours;
+	And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine.
+	The ingratitude of this Seleucus does
+	Even make me wild: O slave, of no more trust
+	Than love that's hired! What, goest thou back? thou shalt
+	Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes,
+	Though they had wings: slave, soulless villain, dog!
+	O rarely base!
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  Good queen, let us entreat you.
+
+CLEOPATRA	O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this,
+	That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me,
+	Doing the honour of thy lordliness
+	To one so meek, that mine own servant should
+	Parcel the sum of my disgraces by
+	Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar,
+	That I some lady trifles have reserved,
+	Immoment toys, things of such dignity
+	As we greet modern friends withal; and say,
+	Some nobler token I have kept apart
+	For Livia and Octavia, to induce
+	Their mediation; must I be unfolded
+	With one that I have bred? The gods! it smites me
+	Beneath the fall I have.
+
+	[To SELEUCUS]
+
+		   Prithee, go hence;
+	Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits
+	Through the ashes of my chance: wert thou a man,
+	Thou wouldst have mercy on me.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Forbear, Seleucus.
+
+	[Exit SELEUCUS]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Be it known, that we, the greatest, are misthought
+	For things that others do; and, when we fall,
+	We answer others' merits in our name,
+	Are therefore to be pitied.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Cleopatra,
+	Not what you have reserved, nor what acknowledged,
+	Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be't yours,
+	Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe,
+	Caesar's no merchant, to make prize with you
+	Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd;
+	Make not your thoughts your prisons: no, dear queen;
+	For we intend so to dispose you as
+	Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed, and sleep:
+	Our care and pity is so much upon you,
+	That we remain your friend; and so, adieu.
+
+CLEOPATRA	My master, and my lord!
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Not so. Adieu.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and his train]
+
+CLEOPATRA	He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not
+	Be noble to myself: but, hark thee, Charmian.
+
+	[Whispers CHARMIAN]
+
+IRAS	Finish, good lady; the bright day is done,
+	And we are for the dark.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Hie thee again:
+	I have spoke already, and it is provided;
+	Go put it to the haste.
+
+CHARMIAN	Madam, I will.
+
+	[Re-enter DOLABELLA]
+
+DOLABELLA	Where is the queen?
+
+CHARMIAN	Behold, sir.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Dolabella!
+
+DOLABELLA	Madam, as thereto sworn by your command,
+	Which my love makes religion to obey,
+	I tell you this: Caesar through Syria
+	Intends his journey; and within three days
+	You with your children will he send before:
+	Make your best use of this: I have perform'd
+	Your pleasure and my promise.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Dolabella,
+	I shall remain your debtor.
+
+DOLABELLA	I your servant,
+	Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Caesar.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Farewell, and thanks.
+
+	[Exit DOLABELLA]
+
+		Now, Iras, what think'st thou?
+	Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown
+	In Rome, as well as I	mechanic slaves
+	With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall
+	Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths,
+	Rank of gross diet, shall be enclouded,
+	And forced to drink their vapour.
+
+IRAS	The gods forbid!
+
+CLEOPATRA	Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: saucy lictors
+	Will catch at us, like strumpets; and scald rhymers
+	Ballad us out o' tune: the quick comedians
+	Extemporally will stage us, and present
+	Our Alexandrian revels; Antony
+	Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see
+	Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness
+	I' the posture of a whore.
+
+IRAS	O the good gods!
+
+CLEOPATRA	Nay, that's certain.
+
+IRAS	I'll never see 't; for, I am sure, my nails
+	Are stronger than mine eyes.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Why, that's the way
+	To fool their preparation, and to conquer
+	Their most absurd intents.
+
+	[Re-enter CHARMIAN]
+
+		     Now, Charmian!
+	Show me, my women, like a queen: go fetch
+	My best attires: I am again for Cydnus,
+	To meet Mark Antony: sirrah Iras, go.
+	Now, noble Charmian, we'll dispatch indeed;
+	And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee leave
+	To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all.
+	Wherefore's this noise?
+
+	[Exit IRAS. A noise within]
+
+	[Enter a Guardsman]
+
+Guard	Here is a rural fellow
+	That will not be denied your highness presence:
+	He brings you figs.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Let him come in.
+
+	[Exit Guardsman]
+
+	What poor an instrument
+	May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty.
+	My resolution's placed, and I have nothing
+	Of woman in me: now from head to foot
+	I am marble-constant; now the fleeting moon
+	No planet is of mine.
+
+	[Re-enter Guardsman, with Clown bringing in a basket]
+
+Guard	This is the man.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Avoid, and leave him.
+
+	[Exit Guardsman]
+
+	Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there,
+	That kills and pains not?
+
+Clown	Truly, I have him: but I would not be the party
+	that should desire you to touch him, for his biting
+	is immortal; those that do die of it do seldom or
+	never recover.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Rememberest thou any that have died on't?
+
+Clown	Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of
+	them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman,
+	but something given to lie; as a woman should not
+	do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the
+	biting of it, what pain she felt: truly, she makes
+	a very good report o' the worm; but he that will
+	believe all that they say, shall never be saved by
+	half that they do: but this is most fallible, the
+	worm's an odd worm.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Get thee hence; farewell.
+
+Clown	I wish you all joy of the worm.
+
+	[Setting down his basket]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Farewell.
+
+Clown	You must think this, look you, that the worm will
+	do his kind.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Ay, ay; farewell.
+
+Clown	Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the
+	keeping of wise people; for, indeed, there is no
+	goodness in worm.
+
+
+CLEOPATRA	Take thou no care; it shall be heeded.
+
+Clown	Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is
+	not worth the feeding.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Will it eat me?
+
+Clown	You must not think I am so simple but I know the
+	devil himself will not eat a woman: I know that a
+	woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her
+	not. But, truly, these same whoreson devils do the
+	gods great harm in their women; for in every ten
+	that they make, the devils mar five.
+
+CLEOPATRA	Well, get thee gone; farewell.
+
+Clown	Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy o' the worm.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter IRAS with a robe, crown, &c]
+
+CLEOPATRA	Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have
+	Immortal longings in me: now no more
+	The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip:
+	Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear
+	Antony call; I see him rouse himself
+	To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
+	The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men
+	To excuse their after wrath: husband, I come:
+	Now to that name my courage prove my title!
+	I am fire and air; my other elements
+	I give to baser life. So; have you done?
+	Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips.
+	Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell.
+
+	[Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies]
+
+	Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall?
+	If thou and nature can so gently part,
+	The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch,
+	Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still?
+	If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world
+	It is not worth leave-taking.
+
+CHARMIAN	Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say,
+	The gods themselves do weep!
+
+CLEOPATRA	This proves me base:
+	If she first meet the curled Antony,
+	He'll make demand of her, and spend that kiss
+	Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou
+	mortal wretch,
+
+	[To an asp, which she applies to her breast]
+
+	With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
+	Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool
+	Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak,
+	That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass
+	Unpolicied!
+
+CHARMIAN	          O eastern star!
+
+CLEOPATRA	Peace, peace!
+	Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
+	That sucks the nurse asleep?
+
+CHARMIAN	O, break! O, break!
+
+CLEOPATRA	As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,--
+	O Antony!--Nay, I will take thee too.
+
+	[Applying another asp to her arm]
+
+	What should I stay--
+
+	[Dies]
+
+CHARMIAN	In this vile world? So, fare thee well.
+	Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies
+	A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows, close;
+	And golden Phoebus never be beheld
+	Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry;
+	I'll mend it, and then play.
+
+	[Enter the Guard, rushing in]
+
+First Guard	Where is the queen?
+
+CHARMIAN	Speak softly, wake her not.
+
+First Guard	Caesar hath sent--
+
+CHARMIAN	                  Too slow a messenger.
+
+	[Applies an asp]
+
+	O, come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee.
+
+First Guard	Approach, ho! All's not well: Caesar's beguiled.
+
+Second Guard	There's Dolabella sent from Caesar; call him.
+
+First Guard	What work is here! Charmian, is this well done?
+
+CHARMIAN	It is well done, and fitting for a princess
+	Descended of so many royal kings.
+	Ah, soldier!
+
+	[Dies]
+
+	[Re-enter DOLABELLA]
+
+DOLABELLA	How goes it here?
+
+Second Guard	                  All dead.
+
+DOLABELLA	Caesar, thy thoughts
+	Touch their effects in this: thyself art coming
+	To see perform'd the dreaded act which thou
+	So sought'st to hinder.
+
+	[Within  'A way there, a way for Caesar!']
+
+	[Re-enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR and all his train marching]
+
+DOLABELLA	O sir, you are too sure an augurer;
+	That you did fear is done.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Bravest at the last,
+	She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal,
+	Took her own way. The manner of their deaths?
+	I do not see them bleed.
+
+DOLABELLA	Who was last with them?
+
+First Guard	A simple countryman, that brought her figs:
+	This was his basket.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Poison'd, then.
+
+First Guard	O Caesar,
+	This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake:
+	I found her trimming up the diadem
+	On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood
+	And on the sudden dropp'd.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	O noble weakness!
+	If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear
+	By external swelling: but she looks like sleep,
+	As she would catch another Antony
+	In her strong toil of grace.
+
+DOLABELLA	Here, on her breast,
+	There is a vent of blood and something blown:
+	The like is on her arm.
+
+First Guard	This is an aspic's trail: and these fig-leaves
+	Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves
+	Upon the caves of Nile.
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Most probable
+	That so she died; for her physician tells me
+	She hath pursued conclusions infinite
+	Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed;
+	And bear her women from the monument:
+	She shall be buried by her Antony:
+	No grave upon the earth shall clip in it
+	A pair so famous. High events as these
+	Strike those that make them; and their story is
+	No less in pity than his glory which
+	Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall
+	In solemn show attend this funeral;
+	And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see
+	High order in this great solemnity.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+CAIUS MARCIUS	(MARCUS:)  Afterwards CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS.
+	(CORIOLANUS:)
+
+
+TITUS LARTIUS	(LARTIUS:)	|
+		|  generals against the Volscians.
+COMINIUS		|
+
+
+MENENIUS AGRIPPA	friend to Coriolanus. (MENENIUS:)
+
+
+SICINIUS VELUTUS	(SICINIUS:)	|
+		|  tribunes of the people.
+JUNIUS BRUTUS	(BRUTUS:)	|
+
+
+Young MARCUS	son to Coriolanus.
+
+	A Roman Herald. (Herald:)
+
+TULLUS AUFIDIUS	general of the Volscians. (AUFIDIUS:)
+
+	Lieutenant to Aufidius. (Lieutenant:)
+
+	Conspirators with Aufidius.
+	(First Conspirator:)
+	(Second Conspirator:)
+	(Third Conspirator:)
+
+	A Citizen of Antium.
+
+	Two Volscian Guards.
+
+VOLUMNIA	mother to Coriolanus.
+
+VIRGILIA	wife to Coriolanus.
+
+VALERIA	friend to Virgilia.
+
+	Gentlewoman, attending on Virgilia. (Gentlewoman:)
+
+	Roman and Volscian Senators, Patricians,
+	AEdiles, Lictors, Soldiers, Citizens, Messengers,
+	Servants to Aufidius, and other Attendants.
+	(First Senator:)
+	(Second Senator:)
+	(A Patrician:)
+	(Second Patrician:)
+	(AEdile:)
+	(First Soldier:)
+	(Second Soldier:)
+	(First Citizen:)
+	(Second Citizen:)
+	(Third Citizen:)
+	(Fourth Citizen:)
+	(Fifth Citizen:)
+	(Sixth Citizen:)
+	(Seventh Citizen:)
+	(Messenger:)
+	(Second Messenger:)
+	(First Serviceman:)
+	(Second Serviceman:)
+	(Third Serviceman:)
+	(Officer:)
+	(First Officer:)
+	(Second Officer:)
+	(Roman:)
+	(First Roman:)
+	(Second Roman:)
+	(Third Roman:)
+	(Volsce:)
+	(First Lord:)
+	(Second Lord:)
+	(Third Lord:)
+
+
+SCENE	Rome and the neighbourhood; Corioli
+	and the neighbourhood; Antium.
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rome. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves,
+	clubs, and other weapons]
+
+First Citizen	Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.
+
+All	Speak, speak.
+
+First Citizen	You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?
+
+All	Resolved. resolved.
+
+First Citizen	First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people.
+
+All	We know't, we know't.
+
+First Citizen	Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price.
+	Is't a verdict?
+
+All	No more talking on't; let it be done: away, away!
+
+Second Citizen	One word, good citizens.
+
+First Citizen	We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians good.
+	What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they
+	would yield us but the superfluity, while it were
+	wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely;
+	but they think we are too dear: the leanness that
+	afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an
+	inventory to particularise their abundance; our
+	sufferance is a gain to them Let us revenge this with
+	our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I
+	speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge.
+
+Second Citizen	Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius?
+
+All	Against him first: he's a very dog to the commonalty.
+
+Second Citizen	Consider you what services he has done for his country?
+
+First Citizen	Very well; and could be content to give him good
+	report fort, but that he pays himself with being proud.
+
+Second Citizen	Nay, but speak not maliciously.
+
+First Citizen	I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did
+	it to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be
+	content to say it was for his country he did it to
+	please his mother and to be partly proud; which he
+	is, even till the altitude of his virtue.
+
+Second Citizen	What he cannot help in his nature, you account a
+	vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous.
+
+First Citizen	If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations;
+	he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition.
+
+	[Shouts within]
+
+	What shouts are these? The other side o' the city
+	is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol!
+
+All	Come, come.
+
+First Citizen	Soft! who comes here?
+
+	[Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA]
+
+Second Citizen	Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved
+	the people.
+
+First Citizen	He's one honest enough: would all the rest were so!
+
+MENENIUS	What work's, my countrymen, in hand? where go you
+	With bats and clubs? The matter? speak, I pray you.
+
+First Citizen	Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have
+	had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do,
+	which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say poor
+	suitors have strong breaths: they shall know we
+	have strong arms too.
+
+MENENIUS	Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours,
+	Will you undo yourselves?
+
+First Citizen	We cannot, sir, we are undone already.
+
+MENENIUS	I tell you, friends, most charitable care
+	Have the patricians of you. For your wants,
+	Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well
+	Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them
+	Against the Roman state, whose course will on
+	The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs
+	Of more strong link asunder than can ever
+	Appear in your impediment. For the dearth,
+	The gods, not the patricians, make it, and
+	Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,
+	You are transported by calamity
+	Thither where more attends you, and you slander
+	The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers,
+	When you curse them as enemies.
+
+First Citizen	Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us
+	yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses
+	crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to
+	support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act
+	established against the rich, and provide more
+	piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain
+	the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and
+	there's all the love they bear us.
+
+MENENIUS	Either you must
+	Confess yourselves wondrous malicious,
+	Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you
+	A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it;
+	But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture
+	To stale 't a little more.
+
+First Citizen	Well, I'll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to
+	fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an 't please
+	you, deliver.
+
+MENENIUS	There was a time when all the body's members
+	Rebell'd against the belly, thus accused it:
+	That only like a gulf it did remain
+	I' the midst o' the body, idle and unactive,
+	Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing
+	Like labour with the rest, where the other instruments
+	Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
+	And, mutually participate, did minister
+	Unto the appetite and affection common
+	Of the whole body. The belly answer'd--
+
+First Citizen	Well, sir, what answer made the belly?
+
+MENENIUS	Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile,
+	Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus--
+	For, look you, I may make the belly smile
+	As well as speak--it tauntingly replied
+	To the discontented members, the mutinous parts
+	That envied his receipt; even so most fitly
+	As you malign our senators for that
+	They are not such as you.
+
+First Citizen	Your belly's answer? What!
+	The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye,
+	The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,
+	Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter.
+	With other muniments and petty helps
+	In this our fabric, if that they--
+
+MENENIUS	What then?
+	'Fore me, this fellow speaks! What then? what then?
+
+First Citizen	Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd,
+	Who is the sink o' the body,--
+
+MENENIUS	Well, what then?
+
+First Citizen	The former agents, if they did complain,
+	What could the belly answer?
+
+MENENIUS	I will tell you
+	If you'll bestow a small--of what you have little--
+	Patience awhile, you'll hear the belly's answer.
+
+First Citizen	Ye're long about it.
+
+MENENIUS	Note me this, good friend;
+	Your most grave belly was deliberate,
+	Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd:
+	'True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he,
+	'That I receive the general food at first,
+	Which you do live upon; and fit it is,
+	Because I am the store-house and the shop
+	Of the whole body: but, if you do remember,
+	I send it through the rivers of your blood,
+	Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the brain;
+	And, through the cranks and offices of man,
+	The strongest nerves and small inferior veins
+	From me receive that natural competency
+	Whereby they live: and though that all at once,
+	You, my good friends,'--this says the belly, mark me,--
+
+First Citizen	Ay, sir; well, well.
+
+MENENIUS	'Though all at once cannot
+	See what I do deliver out to each,
+	Yet I can make my audit up, that all
+	From me do back receive the flour of all,
+	And leave me but the bran.' What say you to't?
+
+First Citizen	It was an answer: how apply you this?
+
+MENENIUS	The senators of Rome are this good belly,
+	And you the mutinous members; for examine
+	Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly
+	Touching the weal o' the common, you shall find
+	No public benefit which you receive
+	But it proceeds or comes from them to you
+	And no way from yourselves. What do you think,
+	You, the great toe of this assembly?
+
+First Citizen	I the great toe! why the great toe?
+
+MENENIUS	For that, being one o' the lowest, basest, poorest,
+	Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost:
+	Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run,
+	Lead'st first to win some vantage.
+	But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs:
+	Rome and her rats are at the point of battle;
+	The one side must have bale.
+
+	[Enter CAIUS MARCIUS]
+
+		       Hail, noble Marcius!
+
+MARCIUS	Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues,
+	That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
+	Make yourselves scabs?
+
+First Citizen	We have ever your good word.
+
+MARCIUS	He that will give good words to thee will flatter
+	Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs,
+	That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you,
+	The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,
+	Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
+	Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no,
+	Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,
+	Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is
+	To make him worthy whose offence subdues him
+	And curse that justice did it.
+	Who deserves greatness
+	Deserves your hate; and your affections are
+	A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
+	Which would increase his evil. He that depends
+	Upon your favours swims with fins of lead
+	And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust Ye?
+	With every minute you do change a mind,
+	And call him noble that was now your hate,
+	Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter,
+	That in these several places of the city
+	You cry against the noble senate, who,
+	Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else
+	Would feed on one another? What's their seeking?
+
+MENENIUS	For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say,
+	The city is well stored.
+
+MARCIUS	Hang 'em! They say!
+	They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know
+	What's done i' the Capitol; who's like to rise,
+	Who thrives and who declines; side factions
+	and give out
+	Conjectural marriages; making parties strong
+	And feebling such as stand not in their liking
+	Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's
+	grain enough!
+	Would the nobility lay aside their ruth,
+	And let me use my sword, I'll make a quarry
+	With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high
+	As I could pick my lance.
+
+MENENIUS	Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded;
+	For though abundantly they lack discretion,
+	Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you,
+	What says the other troop?
+
+MARCIUS	They are dissolved: hang 'em!
+	They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs,
+	That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,
+	That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not
+	Corn for the rich men only: with these shreds
+	They vented their complainings; which being answer'd,
+	And a petition granted them, a strange one--
+	To break the heart of generosity,
+	And make bold power look pale--they threw their caps
+	As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon,
+	Shouting their emulation.
+
+MENENIUS	What is granted them?
+
+MARCIUS	Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms,
+	Of their own choice: one's Junius Brutus,
+	Sicinius Velutus, and I know not--'Sdeath!
+	The rabble should have first unroof'd the city,
+	Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time
+	Win upon power and throw forth greater themes
+	For insurrection's arguing.
+
+MENENIUS	This is strange.
+
+MARCIUS	Go, get you home, you fragments!
+
+	[Enter a Messenger, hastily]
+
+Messenger	Where's Caius Marcius?
+
+MARCIUS	Here: what's the matter?
+
+Messenger	The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.
+
+MARCIUS	I am glad on 't: then we shall ha' means to vent
+	Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders.
+
+	[Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators;
+	JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS]
+
+First Senator	Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us;
+	The Volsces are in arms.
+
+MARCIUS	They have a leader,
+	Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to 't.
+	I sin in envying his nobility,
+	And were I any thing but what I am,
+	I would wish me only he.
+
+COMINIUS	You have fought together.
+
+MARCIUS	Were half to half the world by the ears and he.
+	Upon my party, I'ld revolt to make
+	Only my wars with him: he is a lion
+	That I am proud to hunt.
+
+First Senator	Then, worthy Marcius,
+	Attend upon Cominius to these wars.
+
+COMINIUS	It is your former promise.
+
+MARCIUS	Sir, it is;
+	And I am constant. Titus Lartius, thou
+	Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face.
+	What, art thou stiff? stand'st out?
+
+TITUS	No, Caius Marcius;
+	I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with t'other,
+	Ere stay behind this business.
+
+MENENIUS	O, true-bred!
+
+First Senator	Your company to the Capitol; where, I know,
+	Our greatest friends attend us.
+
+TITUS	[To COMINIUS]                Lead you on.
+
+	[To MARCIUS]  Follow Cominius; we must follow you;
+	Right worthy you priority.
+
+COMINIUS	Noble Marcius!
+
+First Senator	[To the Citizens]  Hence to your homes; be gone!
+
+MARCIUS	Nay, let them follow:
+	The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither
+	To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutiners,
+	Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow.
+
+	[Citizens steal away. Exeunt all but SICINIUS
+	and BRUTUS]
+
+SICINIUS	Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius?
+
+BRUTUS	He has no equal.
+
+SICINIUS	When we were chosen tribunes for the people,--
+
+BRUTUS	Mark'd you his lip and eyes?
+
+SICINIUS	Nay. but his taunts.
+
+BRUTUS	Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods.
+
+SICINIUS	Be-mock the modest moon.
+
+BRUTUS	The present wars devour him: he is grown
+	Too proud to be so valiant.
+
+SICINIUS	Such a nature,
+	Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow
+	Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder
+	His insolence can brook to be commanded
+	Under Cominius.
+
+BRUTUS	Fame, at the which he aims,
+	In whom already he's well graced, can not
+	Better be held nor more attain'd than by
+	A place below the first: for what miscarries
+	Shall be the general's fault, though he perform
+	To the utmost of a man, and giddy censure
+	Will then cry out of Marcius 'O if he
+	Had borne the business!'
+
+SICINIUS	Besides, if things go well,
+	Opinion that so sticks on Marcius shall
+	Of his demerits rob Cominius.
+
+BRUTUS	Come:
+	Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius.
+	Though Marcius earned them not, and all his faults
+	To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed
+	In aught he merit not.
+
+SICINIUS	Let's hence, and hear
+	How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion,
+	More than his singularity, he goes
+	Upon this present action.
+
+BRUTUS	Lets along.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Corioli. The Senate-house.
+
+
+	[Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS and certain Senators]
+
+First Senator	So, your opinion is, Aufidius,
+	That they of Rome are entered in our counsels
+	And know how we proceed.
+
+AUFIDIUS	Is it not yours?
+	What ever have been thought on in this state,
+	That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome
+	Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone
+	Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think
+	I have the letter here; yes, here it is.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'They have press'd a power, but it is not known
+	Whether for east or west: the dearth is great;
+	The people mutinous; and it is rumour'd,
+	Cominius, Marcius your old enemy,
+	Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,
+	And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,
+	These three lead on this preparation
+	Whither 'tis bent: most likely 'tis for you:
+	Consider of it.'
+
+First Senator	                  Our army's in the field
+	We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready
+	To answer us.
+
+AUFIDIUS	                  Nor did you think it folly
+	To keep your great pretences veil'd till when
+	They needs must show themselves; which
+	in the hatching,
+	It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery.
+	We shall be shorten'd in our aim, which was
+	To take in many towns ere almost Rome
+	Should know we were afoot.
+
+Second Senator	Noble Aufidius,
+	Take your commission; hie you to your bands:
+	Let us alone to guard Corioli:
+	If they set down before 's, for the remove
+	Bring your army; but, I think, you'll find
+	They've not prepared for us.
+
+AUFIDIUS	O, doubt not that;
+	I speak from certainties. Nay, more,
+	Some parcels of their power are forth already,
+	And only hitherward. I leave your honours.
+	If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet,
+	'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike
+	Till one can do no more.
+
+All	The gods assist you!
+
+AUFIDIUS	And keep your honours safe!
+
+First Senator	Farewell.
+
+Second Senator	Farewell.
+
+All	Farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Rome. A room in Marcius' house.
+
+
+	[Enter VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA	they set them down
+	on two low stools, and sew]
+
+VOLUMNIA	I pray you, daughter, sing; or express yourself in a
+	more comfortable sort: if my son were my husband, I
+	should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he
+	won honour than in the embracements of his bed where
+	he would show most love. When yet he was but
+	tender-bodied and the only son of my womb, when
+	youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way, when
+	for a day of kings' entreaties a mother should not
+	sell him an hour from her beholding, I, considering
+	how honour would become such a person. that it was
+	no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if
+	renown made it not stir, was pleased to let him seek
+	danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel
+	war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows
+	bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not
+	more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child
+	than now in first seeing he had proved himself a
+	man.
+
+VIRGILIA	But had he died in the business, madam; how then?
+
+VOLUMNIA	Then his good report should have been my son; I
+	therein would have found issue. Hear me profess
+	sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my love
+	alike and none less dear than thine and my good
+	Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their
+	country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
+
+	[Enter a Gentlewoman]
+
+Gentlewoman	Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you.
+
+VIRGILIA	Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself.
+
+VOLUMNIA	Indeed, you shall not.
+	Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum,
+	See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair,
+	As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him:
+	Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus:
+	'Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear,
+	Though you were born in Rome:' his bloody brow
+	With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes,
+	Like to a harvest-man that's task'd to mow
+	Or all or lose his hire.
+
+VIRGILIA	His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood!
+
+VOLUMNIA	Away, you fool! it more becomes a man
+	Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba,
+	When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier
+	Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood
+	At Grecian sword, contemning. Tell Valeria,
+	We are fit to bid her welcome.
+
+	[Exit Gentlewoman]
+
+VIRGILIA	Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius!
+
+VOLUMNIA	He'll beat Aufidius 'head below his knee
+	And tread upon his neck.
+
+	[Enter VALERIA, with an Usher and Gentlewoman]
+
+VALERIA	My ladies both, good day to you.
+
+VOLUMNIA	Sweet madam.
+
+VIRGILIA	I am glad to see your ladyship.
+
+VALERIA	How do you both? you are manifest house-keepers.
+	What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good
+	faith. How does your little son?
+
+VIRGILIA	I thank your ladyship; well, good madam.
+
+VOLUMNIA	He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than
+	look upon his school-master.
+
+VALERIA	O' my word, the father's son: I'll swear,'tis a
+	very pretty boy. O' my troth, I looked upon him o'
+	Wednesday half an hour together: has such a
+	confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded
+	butterfly: and when he caught it, he let it go
+	again; and after it again; and over and over he
+	comes, and again; catched it again; or whether his
+	fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did so set his
+	teeth and tear it; O, I warrant it, how he mammocked
+	it!
+
+VOLUMNIA	One on 's father's moods.
+
+VALERIA	Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child.
+
+VIRGILIA	A crack, madam.
+
+VALERIA	Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play
+	the idle husewife with me this afternoon.
+
+VIRGILIA	No, good madam; I will not out of doors.
+
+VALERIA	Not out of doors!
+
+VOLUMNIA	She shall, she shall.
+
+VIRGILIA	Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the
+	threshold till my lord return from the wars.
+
+VALERIA	Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: come,
+	you must go visit the good lady that lies in.
+
+VIRGILIA	I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with
+	my prayers; but I cannot go thither.
+
+VOLUMNIA	Why, I pray you?
+
+VIRGILIA	'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love.
+
+VALERIA	You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all
+	the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill
+	Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would your cambric
+	were sensible as your finger, that you might leave
+	pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us.
+
+VIRGILIA	No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth.
+
+VALERIA	In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you
+	excellent news of your husband.
+
+VIRGILIA	O, good madam, there can be none yet.
+
+VALERIA	Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from
+	him last night.
+
+VIRGILIA	Indeed, madam?
+
+VALERIA	In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it.
+	Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth; against
+	whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of
+	our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set
+	down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt
+	prevailing and to make it brief wars. This is true,
+	on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us.
+
+VIRGILIA	Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every
+	thing hereafter.
+
+VOLUMNIA	Let her alone, lady: as she is now, she will but
+	disease our better mirth.
+
+VALERIA	In troth, I think she would. Fare you well, then.
+	Come, good sweet lady. Prithee, Virgilia, turn thy
+	solemness out o' door. and go along with us.
+
+VIRGILIA	No, at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish
+	you much mirth.
+
+VALERIA	Well, then, farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Before Corioli.
+
+
+	[Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS
+	LARTIUS, Captains and Soldiers. To them a
+	Messenger]
+
+MARCIUS	Yonder comes news. A wager they have met.
+
+LARTIUS	My horse to yours, no.
+
+MARCIUS	'Tis done.
+
+LARTIUS	Agreed.
+
+MARCIUS	Say, has our general met the enemy?
+
+Messenger	They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet.
+
+LARTIUS	So, the good horse is mine.
+
+MARCIUS	I'll buy him of you.
+
+LARTIUS	No, I'll nor sell nor give him: lend you him I will
+	For half a hundred years. Summon the town.
+
+MARCIUS	How far off lie these armies?
+
+Messenger	Within this mile and half.
+
+MARCIUS	Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours.
+	Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work,
+	That we with smoking swords may march from hence,
+	To help our fielded friends! Come, blow thy blast.
+
+	[They sound a parley. Enter two Senators with others
+	on the walls]
+
+	Tutus Aufidius, is he within your walls?
+
+First Senator	No, nor a man that fears you less than he,
+	That's lesser than a little.
+
+	[Drums afar off]
+
+		       Hark! our drums
+	Are bringing forth our youth. We'll break our walls,
+	Rather than they shall pound us up: our gates,
+	Which yet seem shut, we, have but pinn'd with rushes;
+	They'll open of themselves.
+
+	[Alarum afar off]
+
+		      Hark you. far off!
+	There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes
+	Amongst your cloven army.
+
+MARCIUS	O, they are at it!
+
+LARTIUS	Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho!
+
+	[Enter the army of the Volsces]
+
+MARCIUS	They fear us not, but issue forth their city.
+	Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight
+	With hearts more proof than shields. Advance,
+	brave Titus:
+	They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts,
+	Which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows:
+	He that retires I'll take him for a Volsce,
+	And he shall feel mine edge.
+
+	[Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their
+	trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS cursing]
+
+MARCIUS	All the contagion of the south light on you,
+	You shames of Rome! you herd of--Boils and plagues
+	Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd
+	Further than seen and one infect another
+	Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese,
+	That bear the shapes of men, how have you run
+	From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell!
+	All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale
+	With flight and agued fear! Mend and charge home,
+	Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe
+	And make my wars on you: look to't: come on;
+	If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives,
+	As they us to our trenches followed.
+
+	[Another alarum. The Volsces fly, and MARCIUS
+	follows them to the gates]
+
+	So, now the gates are ope: now prove good seconds:
+	'Tis for the followers fortune widens them,
+	Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like.
+
+	[Enters the gates]
+
+First Soldier	Fool-hardiness; not I.
+
+Second Soldier	Nor I.
+
+	[MARCIUS is shut in]
+
+First Soldier	See, they have shut him in.
+
+All	To the pot, I warrant him.
+
+	[Alarum continues]
+
+	[Re-enter TITUS LARTIUS]
+
+LARTIUS	What is become of Marcius?
+
+All	Slain, sir, doubtless.
+
+First Soldier	Following the fliers at the very heels,
+	With them he enters; who, upon the sudden,
+	Clapp'd to their gates: he is himself alone,
+	To answer all the city.
+
+LARTIUS	O noble fellow!
+	Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword,
+	And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Marcius:
+	A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art,
+	Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier
+	Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible
+	Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks and
+	The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds,
+	Thou madst thine enemies shake, as if the world
+	Were feverous and did tremble.
+
+	[Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy]
+
+First Soldier	Look, sir.
+
+LARTIUS	O,'tis Marcius!
+	Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.
+
+	[They fight, and all enter the city]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Corioli. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter certain Romans, with spoils]
+
+First Roman	This will I carry to Rome.
+
+Second Roman	And I this.
+
+Third Roman	A murrain on't! I took this for silver.
+
+	[Alarum continues still afar off]
+
+	[Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet]
+
+MARCIUS	See here these movers that do prize their hours
+	At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons,
+	Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would
+	Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves,
+	Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: down with them!
+	And hark, what noise the general makes! To him!
+	There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius,
+	Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take
+	Convenient numbers to make good the city;
+	Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste
+	To help Cominius.
+
+LARTIUS	                  Worthy sir, thou bleed'st;
+	Thy exercise hath been too violent for
+	A second course of fight.
+
+MARCIUS	Sir, praise me not;
+	My work hath yet not warm'd me: fare you well:
+	The blood I drop is rather physical
+	Than dangerous to me: to Aufidius thus
+	I will appear, and fight.
+
+LARTIUS	Now the fair goddess, Fortune,
+	Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms
+	Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman,
+	Prosperity be thy page!
+
+MARCIUS	Thy friend no less
+	Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell.
+
+LARTIUS	Thou worthiest Marcius!
+
+	[Exit MARCIUS]
+
+	Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place;
+	Call thither all the officers o' the town,
+	Where they shall know our mind: away!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Near the camp of Cominius.
+
+
+	[Enter COMINIUS, as it were in retire,
+	with soldiers]
+
+COMINIUS	Breathe you, my friends: well fought;
+	we are come off
+	Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands,
+	Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs,
+	We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck,
+	By interims and conveying gusts we have heard
+	The charges of our friends. Ye Roman gods!
+	Lead their successes as we wish our own,
+	That both our powers, with smiling
+	fronts encountering,
+	May give you thankful sacrifice.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+		                  Thy news?
+
+Messenger	The citizens of Corioli have issued,
+	And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle:
+	I saw our party to their trenches driven,
+	And then I came away.
+
+COMINIUS	Though thou speak'st truth,
+	Methinks thou speak'st not well.
+	How long is't since?
+
+Messenger	Above an hour, my lord.
+
+COMINIUS	'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums:
+	How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour,
+	And bring thy news so late?
+
+Messenger	Spies of the Volsces
+	Held me in chase, that I was forced to wheel
+	Three or four miles about, else had I, sir,
+	Half an hour since brought my report.
+
+COMINIUS	Who's yonder,
+	That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods
+	He has the stamp of Marcius; and I have
+	Before-time seen him thus.
+
+MARCIUS	[Within]                 Come I too late?
+
+COMINIUS	The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabour
+	More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue
+	From every meaner man.
+
+	[Enter MARCIUS]
+
+MARCIUS	Come I too late?
+
+COMINIUS	Ay, if you come not in the blood of others,
+	But mantled in your own.
+
+MARCIUS	O, let me clip ye
+	In arms as sound as when I woo'd, in heart
+	As merry as when our nuptial day was done,
+	And tapers burn'd to bedward!
+
+COMINIUS	Flower of warriors,
+	How is it with Titus Lartius?
+
+MARCIUS	As with a man busied about decrees:
+	Condemning some to death, and some to exile;
+	Ransoming him, or pitying, threatening the other;
+	Holding Corioli in the name of Rome,
+	Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash,
+	To let him slip at will.
+
+COMINIUS	Where is that slave
+	Which told me they had beat you to your trenches?
+	Where is he? call him hither.
+
+MARCIUS	Let him alone;
+	He did inform the truth: but for our gentlemen,
+	The common file--a plague! tribunes for them!--
+	The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat as they did budge
+	From rascals worse than they.
+
+COMINIUS	But how prevail'd you?
+
+MARCIUS	Will the time serve to tell? I do not think.
+	Where is the enemy? are you lords o' the field?
+	If not, why cease you till you are so?
+
+COMINIUS	Marcius,
+	We have at disadvantage fought and did
+	Retire to win our purpose.
+
+MARCIUS	How lies their battle? know you on which side
+	They have placed their men of trust?
+
+COMINIUS	As I guess, Marcius,
+	Their bands i' the vaward are the Antiates,
+	Of their best trust; o'er them Aufidius,
+	Their very heart of hope.
+
+MARCIUS	I do beseech you,
+	By all the battles wherein we have fought,
+	By the blood we have shed together, by the vows
+	We have made to endure friends, that you directly
+	Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates;
+	And that you not delay the present, but,
+	Filling the air with swords advanced and darts,
+	We prove this very hour.
+
+COMINIUS	Though I could wish
+	You were conducted to a gentle bath
+	And balms applied to, you, yet dare I never
+	Deny your asking: take your choice of those
+	That best can aid your action.
+
+MARCIUS	Those are they
+	That most are willing. If any such be here--
+	As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting
+	Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear
+	Lesser his person than an ill report;
+	If any think brave death outweighs bad life
+	And that his country's dearer than himself;
+	Let him alone, or so many so minded,
+	Wave thus, to express his disposition,
+	And follow Marcius.
+
+	[They all shout and wave their swords, take him up in
+	their arms, and cast up their caps]
+
+	O, me alone! make you a sword of me?
+	If these shows be not outward, which of you
+	But is four Volsces? none of you but is
+	Able to bear against the great Aufidius
+	A shield as hard as his. A certain number,
+	Though thanks to all, must I select
+	from all: the rest
+	Shall bear the business in some other fight,
+	As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march;
+	And four shall quickly draw out my command,
+	Which men are best inclined.
+
+COMINIUS	March on, my fellows:
+	Make good this ostentation, and you shall
+	Divide in all with us.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	The gates of Corioli.
+
+
+	[TITUS LARTIUS, having set a guard upon
+	Corioli, going with drum and trumpet toward
+	COMINIUS and CAIUS MARCIUS, enters with
+	Lieutenant, other Soldiers, and a Scout]
+
+LARTIUS	So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties,
+	As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch
+	Those centuries to our aid: the rest will serve
+	For a short holding: if we lose the field,
+	We cannot keep the town.
+
+Lieutenant	Fear not our care, sir.
+
+LARTIUS	Hence, and shut your gates upon's.
+	Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII	A field of battle.
+
+
+	[Alarum as in battle. Enter, from opposite sides,
+	MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS]
+
+MARCIUS	I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee
+	Worse than a promise-breaker.
+
+AUFIDIUS	We hate alike:
+	Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor
+	More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot.
+
+MARCIUS	Let the first budger die the other's slave,
+	And the gods doom him after!
+
+AUFIDIUS	If I fly, Marcius,
+	Holloa me like a hare.
+
+MARCIUS	Within these three hours, Tullus,
+	Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,
+	And made what work I pleased: 'tis not my blood
+	Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge
+	Wrench up thy power to the highest.
+
+AUFIDIUS	Wert thou the Hector
+	That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny,
+	Thou shouldst not scape me here.
+
+	[They fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of
+	AUFIDIUS. MARCIUS fights till they be driven in
+	breathless]
+
+	Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me
+	In your condemned seconds.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IX	The Roman camp.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish.
+	Enter, from one side, COMINIUS with the Romans; from
+	the other side, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf]
+
+COMINIUS	If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
+	Thou'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it
+	Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles,
+	Where great patricians shall attend and shrug,
+	I' the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted,
+	And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the
+	dull tribunes,
+	That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours,
+	Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods
+	Our Rome hath such a soldier.'
+	Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast,
+	Having fully dined before.
+
+	[Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power,
+	from the pursuit]
+
+LARTIUS	O general,
+	Here is the steed, we the caparison:
+	Hadst thou beheld--
+
+MARCIUS	Pray now, no more: my mother,
+	Who has a charter to extol her blood,
+	When she does praise me grieves me. I have done
+	As you have done; that's what I can; induced
+	As you have been; that's for my country:
+	He that has but effected his good will
+	Hath overta'en mine act.
+
+COMINIUS	You shall not be
+	The grave of your deserving; Rome must know
+	The value of her own: 'twere a concealment
+	Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,
+	To hide your doings; and to silence that,
+	Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd,
+	Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you
+	In sign of what you are, not to reward
+	What you have done--before our army hear me.
+
+MARCIUS	I have some wounds upon me, and they smart
+	To hear themselves remember'd.
+
+COMINIUS	Should they not,
+	Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,
+	And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,
+	Whereof we have ta'en good and good store, of all
+	The treasure in this field achieved and city,
+	We render you the tenth, to be ta'en forth,
+	Before the common distribution, at
+	Your only choice.
+
+MARCIUS	                  I thank you, general;
+	But cannot make my heart consent to take
+	A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it;
+	And stand upon my common part with those
+	That have beheld the doing.
+
+	[A long flourish. They all cry 'Marcius! Marcius!'
+	cast up their caps and lances: COMINIUS and LARTIUS
+	stand bare]
+
+MARCIUS	May these same instruments, which you profane,
+	Never sound more! when drums and trumpets shall
+	I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
+	Made all of false-faced soothing!
+	When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk,
+	Let him be made a coverture for the wars!
+	No more, I say! For that I have not wash'd
+	My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch.--
+	Which, without note, here's many else have done,--
+	You shout me forth
+	In acclamations hyperbolical;
+	As if I loved my little should be dieted
+	In praises sauced with lies.
+
+COMINIUS	Too modest are you;
+	More cruel to your good report than grateful
+	To us that give you truly: by your patience,
+	If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you,
+	Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles,
+	Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known,
+	As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
+	Wears this war's garland: in token of the which,
+	My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
+	With all his trim belonging; and from this time,
+	For what he did before Corioli, call him,
+	With all the applause and clamour of the host,
+	CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS! Bear
+	The addition nobly ever!
+
+	[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums]
+
+All	Caius Marcius Coriolanus!
+
+CORIOLANUS	I will go wash;
+	And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
+	Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you.
+	I mean to stride your steed, and at all times
+	To undercrest your good addition
+	To the fairness of my power.
+
+COMINIUS	So, to our tent;
+	Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
+	To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius,
+	Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome
+	The best, with whom we may articulate,
+	For their own good and ours.
+
+LARTIUS	I shall, my lord.
+
+CORIOLANUS	The gods begin to mock me. I, that now
+	Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg
+	Of my lord general.
+
+COMINIUS	Take't; 'tis yours. What is't?
+
+CORIOLANUS	I sometime lay here in Corioli
+	At a poor man's house; he used me kindly:
+	He cried to me; I saw him prisoner;
+	But then Aufidius was within my view,
+	And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you
+	To give my poor host freedom.
+
+COMINIUS	O, well begg'd!
+	Were he the butcher of my son, he should
+	Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.
+
+LARTIUS	Marcius, his name?
+
+CORIOLANUS	                  By Jupiter! forgot.
+	I am weary; yea, my memory is tired.
+	Have we no wine here?
+
+COMINIUS	Go we to our tent:
+	The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time
+	It should be look'd to: come.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE X	The camp of the Volsces.
+
+
+	[A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS,
+	bloody, with two or three Soldiers]
+
+AUFIDIUS	The town is ta'en!
+
+First Soldier	'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition.
+
+AUFIDIUS	Condition!
+	I would I were a Roman; for I cannot,
+	Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition!
+	What good condition can a treaty find
+	I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
+	I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me,
+	And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter
+	As often as we eat. By the elements,
+	If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
+	He's mine, or I am his: mine emulation
+	Hath not that honour in't it had; for where
+	I thought to crush him in an equal force,
+	True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way
+	Or wrath or craft may get him.
+
+First Soldier	He's the devil.
+
+AUFIDIUS	Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd
+	With only suffering stain by him; for him
+	Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary,
+	Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol,
+	The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,
+	Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
+	Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
+	My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it
+	At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
+	Against the hospitable canon, would I
+	Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city;
+	Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must
+	Be hostages for Rome.
+
+First Soldier	Will not you go?
+
+AUFIDIUS	I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you--
+	'Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither
+	How the world goes, that to the pace of it
+	I may spur on my journey.
+
+First Soldier	I shall, sir.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rome. A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter MENENIUS with the two Tribunes of the people,
+	SICINIUS and BRUTUS.
+
+MENENIUS	The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night.
+
+BRUTUS	Good or bad?
+
+MENENIUS	Not according to the prayer of the people, for they
+	love not Marcius.
+
+SICINIUS	Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
+
+MENENIUS	Pray you, who does the wolf love?
+
+SICINIUS	The lamb.
+
+MENENIUS	Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the
+	noble Marcius.
+
+BRUTUS	He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear.
+
+MENENIUS	He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two
+	are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you.
+
+Both	Well, sir.
+
+MENENIUS	In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two
+	have not in abundance?
+
+BRUTUS	He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all.
+
+SICINIUS	Especially in pride.
+
+BRUTUS	And topping all others in boasting.
+
+MENENIUS	This is strange now: do you two know how you are
+	censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the
+	right-hand file? do you?
+
+Both	Why, how are we censured?
+
+MENENIUS	Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry?
+
+Both	Well, well, sir, well.
+
+MENENIUS	Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of
+	occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience:
+	give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at
+	your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a
+	pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for
+	being proud?
+
+BRUTUS	We do it not alone, sir.
+
+MENENIUS	I know you can do very little alone; for your helps
+	are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous
+	single: your abilities are too infant-like for
+	doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you
+	could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks,
+	and make but an interior survey of your good selves!
+	O that you could!
+
+BRUTUS	What then, sir?
+
+MENENIUS	Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting,
+	proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as
+	any in Rome.
+
+SICINIUS	Menenius, you are known well enough too.
+
+MENENIUS	I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that
+	loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying
+	Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect in
+	favouring the first complaint; hasty and tinder-like
+	upon too trivial motion; one that converses more
+	with the buttock of the night than with the forehead
+	of the morning: what I think I utter, and spend my
+	malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as
+	you are--I cannot call you Lycurguses--if the drink
+	you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a
+	crooked face at it. I can't say your worships have
+	delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in
+	compound with the major part of your syllables: and
+	though I must be content to bear with those that say
+	you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that
+	tell you you have good faces. If you see this in
+	the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known
+	well enough too? what barm can your bisson
+	conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be
+	known well enough too?
+
+BRUTUS	Come, sir, come, we know you well enough.
+
+MENENIUS	You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. You
+	are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs: you
+	wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a
+	cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller;
+	and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a
+	second day of audience. When you are hearing a
+	matter between party and party, if you chance to be
+	pinched with the colic, you make faces like
+	mummers; set up the bloody flag against all
+	patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot,
+	dismiss the controversy bleeding the more entangled
+	by your hearing: all the peace you make in their
+	cause is, calling both the parties knaves. You are
+	a pair of strange ones.
+
+BRUTUS	Come, come, you are well understood to be a
+	perfecter giber for the table than a necessary
+	bencher in the Capitol.
+
+MENENIUS	Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall
+	encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When
+	you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the
+	wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not
+	so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's
+	cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack-
+	saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud;
+	who in a cheap estimation, is worth predecessors
+	since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the
+	best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. God-den to
+	your worships: more of your conversation would
+	infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly
+	plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you.
+
+	[BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside]
+
+	[Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA]
+
+	How now, my as fair as noble ladies,--and the moon,
+	were she earthly, no nobler,--whither do you follow
+	your eyes so fast?
+
+VOLUMNIA	Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for
+	the love of Juno, let's go.
+
+MENENIUS	Ha! Marcius coming home!
+
+VOLUMNIA	Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous
+	approbation.
+
+MENENIUS	Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo!
+	Marcius coming home!
+
+
+VOLUMNIA	|
+	|  Nay,'tis true.
+VIRGILIA	|
+
+
+VOLUMNIA	Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath
+	another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one
+	at home for you.
+
+MENENIUS	I will make my very house reel tonight: a letter for
+	me!
+
+VIRGILIA	Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw't.
+
+MENENIUS	A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven
+	years' health; in which time I will make a lip at
+	the physician: the most sovereign prescription in
+	Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative,
+	of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he
+	not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded.
+
+VIRGILIA	O, no, no, no.
+
+VOLUMNIA	O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for't.
+
+MENENIUS	So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a'
+	victory in his pocket? the wounds become him.
+
+VOLUMNIA	On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home
+	with the oaken garland.
+
+MENENIUS	Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly?
+
+VOLUMNIA	Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but
+	Aufidius got off.
+
+MENENIUS	And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that:
+	an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so
+	fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold
+	that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this?
+
+VOLUMNIA	Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes; the senate
+	has letters from the general, wherein he gives my
+	son the whole name of the war: he hath in this
+	action outdone his former deeds doubly
+
+VALERIA	In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him.
+
+MENENIUS	Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his
+	true purchasing.
+
+VIRGILIA	The gods grant them true!
+
+VOLUMNIA	True! pow, wow.
+
+MENENIUS	True! I'll be sworn they are true.
+	Where is he wounded?
+
+	[To the Tribunes]
+
+	God save your good worships! Marcius is coming
+	home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded?
+
+VOLUMNIA	I' the shoulder and i' the left arm there will be
+	large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall
+	stand for his place. He received in the repulse of
+	Tarquin seven hurts i' the body.
+
+MENENIUS	One i' the neck, and two i' the thigh,--there's
+	nine that I know.
+
+VOLUMNIA	He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five
+	wounds upon him.
+
+MENENIUS	Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave.
+
+	[A shout and flourish]
+
+	Hark! the trumpets.
+
+VOLUMNIA	These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he
+	carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears:
+	Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie;
+	Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die.
+
+	[A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS the
+	general, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS,
+	crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains and
+	Soldiers, and a Herald]
+
+Herald	Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight
+	Within Corioli gates: where he hath won,
+	With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these
+	In honour follows Coriolanus.
+	Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!
+
+	[Flourish]
+
+All	Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!
+
+CORIOLANUS	No more of this; it does offend my heart:
+	Pray now, no more.
+
+COMINIUS	                  Look, sir, your mother!
+
+CORIOLANUS	O,
+	You have, I know, petition'd all the gods
+	For my prosperity!
+
+	[Kneels]
+
+VOLUMNIA	                  Nay, my good soldier, up;
+	My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and
+	By deed-achieving honour newly named,--
+	What is it?--Coriolanus must I call thee?--
+	But O, thy wife!
+
+CORIOLANUS	                  My gracious silence, hail!
+	Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home,
+	That weep'st to see me triumph? Ay, my dear,
+	Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear,
+	And mothers that lack sons.
+
+MENENIUS	Now, the gods crown thee!
+
+CORIOLANUS	And live you yet?
+
+	[To VALERIA]
+	O my sweet lady, pardon.
+
+VOLUMNIA	I know not where to turn: O, welcome home:
+	And welcome, general: and ye're welcome all.
+
+MENENIUS	A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep
+	And I could laugh, I am light and heavy. Welcome.
+	A curse begin at very root on's heart,
+	That is not glad to see thee! You are three
+	That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men,
+	We have some old crab-trees here
+	at home that will not
+	Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors:
+	We call a nettle but a nettle and
+	The faults of fools but folly.
+
+COMINIUS	Ever right.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Menenius ever, ever.
+
+Herald	Give way there, and go on!
+
+CORIOLANUS	[To VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA]  Your hand, and yours:
+	Ere in our own house I do shade my head,
+	The good patricians must be visited;
+	From whom I have received not only greetings,
+	But with them change of honours.
+
+VOLUMNIA	I have lived
+	To see inherited my very wishes
+	And the buildings of my fancy: only
+	There's one thing wanting, which I doubt not but
+	Our Rome will cast upon thee.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Know, good mother,
+	I had rather be their servant in my way,
+	Than sway with them in theirs.
+
+COMINIUS	On, to the Capitol!
+
+	[Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before.
+	BRUTUS and SICINIUS come forward]
+
+BRUTUS	All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights
+	Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse
+	Into a rapture lets her baby cry
+	While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins
+	Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck,
+	Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows,
+	Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges horsed
+	With variable complexions, all agreeing
+	In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens
+	Do press among the popular throngs and puff
+	To win a vulgar station: or veil'd dames
+	Commit the war of white and damask in
+	Their nicely-gawded cheeks to the wanton spoil
+	Of Phoebus' burning kisses: such a pother
+	As if that whatsoever god who leads him
+	Were slily crept into his human powers
+	And gave him graceful posture.
+
+SICINIUS	On the sudden,
+	I warrant him consul.
+
+BRUTUS	Then our office may,
+	During his power, go sleep.
+
+SICINIUS	He cannot temperately transport his honours
+	From where he should begin and end, but will
+	Lose those he hath won.
+
+BRUTUS	In that there's comfort.
+
+SICINIUS	Doubt not
+	The commoners, for whom we stand, but they
+	Upon their ancient malice will forget
+	With the least cause these his new honours, which
+	That he will give them make I as little question
+	As he is proud to do't.
+
+BRUTUS	I heard him swear,
+	Were he to stand for consul, never would he
+	Appear i' the market-place nor on him put
+	The napless vesture of humility;
+	Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds
+	To the people, beg their stinking breaths.
+
+SICINIUS	'Tis right.
+
+BRUTUS	It was his word: O, he would miss it rather
+	Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him,
+	And the desire of the nobles.
+
+SICINIUS	I wish no better
+	Than have him hold that purpose and to put it
+	In execution.
+
+BRUTUS	'Tis most like he will.
+
+SICINIUS	It shall be to him then as our good wills,
+	A sure destruction.
+
+BRUTUS	So it must fall out
+	To him or our authorities. For an end,
+	We must suggest the people in what hatred
+	He still hath held them; that to's power he would
+	Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders and
+	Dispropertied their freedoms, holding them,
+	In human action and capacity,
+	Of no more soul nor fitness for the world
+	Than camels in the war, who have their provand
+	Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows
+	For sinking under them.
+
+SICINIUS	This, as you say, suggested
+	At some time when his soaring insolence
+	Shall touch the people--which time shall not want,
+	If he be put upon 't; and that's as easy
+	As to set dogs on sheep--will be his fire
+	To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze
+	Shall darken him for ever.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+BRUTUS	What's the matter?
+
+Messenger	You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought
+	That Marcius shall be consul:
+	I have seen the dumb men throng to see him and
+	The blind to bear him speak: matrons flung gloves,
+	Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers,
+	Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended,
+	As to Jove's statue, and the commons made
+	A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts:
+	I never saw the like.
+
+BRUTUS	Let's to the Capitol;
+	And carry with us ears and eyes for the time,
+	But hearts for the event.
+
+SICINIUS	Have with you.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE  II	The same. The Capitol.
+
+
+	[Enter two Officers, to lay cushions]
+
+First Officer	Come, come, they are almost here. How many stand
+	for consulships?
+
+Second Officer	Three, they say: but 'tis thought of every one
+	Coriolanus will carry it.
+
+First Officer	That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud, and
+	loves not the common people.
+
+Second Officer	Faith, there had been many great men that have
+	flattered the people, who ne'er loved them; and there
+	be many that they have loved, they know not
+	wherefore: so that, if they love they know not why,
+	they hate upon no better a ground: therefore, for
+	Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate
+	him manifests the true knowledge he has in their
+	disposition; and out of his noble carelessness lets
+	them plainly see't.
+
+First Officer	If he did not care whether he had their love or no,
+	he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them neither
+	good nor harm: but he seeks their hate with greater
+	devotion than can render it him; and leaves
+	nothing undone that may fully discover him their
+	opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and
+	displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he
+	dislikes, to flatter them for their love.
+
+Second Officer	He hath deserved worthily of his country: and his
+	ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who,
+	having been supple and courteous to the people,
+	bonneted, without any further deed to have them at
+	an into their estimation and report: but he hath so
+	planted his honours in their eyes, and his actions
+	in their hearts, that for their tongues to be
+	silent, and not confess so much, were a kind of
+	ingrateful injury; to report otherwise, were a
+	malice, that, giving itself the lie, would pluck
+	reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it.
+
+First Officer	No more of him; he is a worthy man: make way, they
+	are coming.
+
+	[A sennet. Enter, with actors before them, COMINIUS
+	the consul, MENENIUS, CORIOLANUS, Senators,
+	SICINIUS and BRUTUS. The Senators take their
+	places; the Tribunes take their Places by
+	themselves. CORIOLANUS stands]
+
+MENENIUS	Having determined of the Volsces and
+	To send for Titus Lartius, it remains,
+	As the main point of this our after-meeting,
+	To gratify his noble service that
+	Hath thus stood for his country: therefore,
+	please you,
+	Most reverend and grave elders, to desire
+	The present consul, and last general
+	In our well-found successes, to report
+	A little of that worthy work perform'd
+	By Caius Marcius Coriolanus, whom
+	We met here both to thank and to remember
+	With honours like himself.
+
+First Senator	Speak, good Cominius:
+	Leave nothing out for length, and make us think
+	Rather our state's defective for requital
+	Than we to stretch it out.
+
+	[To the Tribunes]
+
+		     Masters o' the people,
+	We do request your kindest ears, and after,
+	Your loving motion toward the common body,
+	To yield what passes here.
+
+SICINIUS	We are convented
+	Upon a pleasing treaty, and have hearts
+	Inclinable to honour and advance
+	The theme of our assembly.
+
+BRUTUS	Which the rather
+	We shall be blest to do, if he remember
+	A kinder value of the people than
+	He hath hereto prized them at.
+
+MENENIUS	That's off, that's off;
+	I would you rather had been silent. Please you
+	To hear Cominius speak?
+
+BRUTUS	Most willingly;
+	But yet my caution was more pertinent
+	Than the rebuke you give it.
+
+MENENIUS	He loves your people
+	But tie him not to be their bedfellow.
+	Worthy Cominius, speak.
+
+	[CORIOLANUS offers to go away]
+
+		  Nay, keep your place.
+
+First Senator	Sit, Coriolanus; never shame to hear
+	What you have nobly done.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Your horror's pardon:
+	I had rather have my wounds to heal again
+	Than hear say how I got them.
+
+BRUTUS	Sir, I hope
+	My words disbench'd you not.
+
+CORIOLANUS	No, sir: yet oft,
+	When blows have made me stay, I fled from words.
+	You soothed not, therefore hurt not: but
+	your people,
+	I love them as they weigh.
+
+MENENIUS	Pray now, sit down.
+
+CORIOLANUS	I had rather have one scratch my head i' the sun
+	When the alarum were struck than idly sit
+	To hear my nothings monster'd.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MENENIUS	Masters of the people,
+	Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter--
+	That's thousand to one good one--when you now see
+	He had rather venture all his limbs for honour
+	Than one on's ears to hear it? Proceed, Cominius.
+
+COMINIUS	I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus
+	Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held
+	That valour is the chiefest virtue, and
+	Most dignifies the haver: if it be,
+	The man I speak of cannot in the world
+	Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years,
+	When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought
+	Beyond the mark of others: our then dictator,
+	Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight,
+	When with his Amazonian chin he drove
+	The bristled lips before him: be bestrid
+	An o'er-press'd Roman and i' the consul's view
+	Slew three opposers: Tarquin's self he met,
+	And struck him on his knee: in that day's feats,
+	When he might act the woman in the scene,
+	He proved best man i' the field, and for his meed
+	Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age
+	Man-enter'd thus, he waxed like a sea,
+	And in the brunt of seventeen battles since
+	He lurch'd all swords of the garland. For this last,
+	Before and in Corioli, let me say,
+	I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the fliers;
+	And by his rare example made the coward
+	Turn terror into sport: as weeds before
+	A vessel under sail, so men obey'd
+	And fell below his stem: his sword, death's stamp,
+	Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot
+	He was a thing of blood, whose every motion
+	Was timed with dying cries: alone he enter'd
+	The mortal gate of the city, which he painted
+	With shunless destiny; aidless came off,
+	And with a sudden reinforcement struck
+	Corioli like a planet: now all's his:
+	When, by and by, the din of war gan pierce
+	His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit
+	Re-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate,
+	And to the battle came he; where he did
+	Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if
+	'Twere a perpetual spoil: and till we call'd
+	Both field and city ours, he never stood
+	To ease his breast with panting.
+
+MENENIUS	Worthy man!
+
+First Senator	He cannot but with measure fit the honours
+	Which we devise him.
+
+COMINIUS	Our spoils he kick'd at,
+	And look'd upon things precious as they were
+	The common muck of the world: he covets less
+	Than misery itself would give; rewards
+	His deeds with doing them, and is content
+	To spend the time to end it.
+
+MENENIUS	He's right noble:
+	Let him be call'd for.
+
+First Senator	Call Coriolanus.
+
+Officer	He doth appear.
+
+	[Re-enter CORIOLANUS]
+
+MENENIUS	The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased
+	To make thee consul.
+
+CORIOLANUS	I do owe them still
+	My life and services.
+
+MENENIUS	It then remains
+	That you do speak to the people.
+
+CORIOLANUS	I do beseech you,
+	Let me o'erleap that custom, for I cannot
+	Put on the gown, stand naked and entreat them,
+	For my wounds' sake, to give their suffrage: please you
+	That I may pass this doing.
+
+SICINIUS	Sir, the people
+	Must have their voices; neither will they bate
+	One jot of ceremony.
+
+MENENIUS	Put them not to't:
+	Pray you, go fit you to the custom and
+	Take to you, as your predecessors have,
+	Your honour with your form.
+
+CORIOLANUS	It is apart
+	That I shall blush in acting, and might well
+	Be taken from the people.
+
+BRUTUS	Mark you that?
+
+CORIOLANUS	To brag unto them, thus I did, and thus;
+	Show them the unaching scars which I should hide,
+	As if I had received them for the hire
+	Of their breath only!
+
+MENENIUS	Do not stand upon't.
+	We recommend to you, tribunes of the people,
+	Our purpose to them: and to our noble consul
+	Wish we all joy and honour.
+
+Senators	To Coriolanus come all joy and honour!
+
+	[Flourish of cornets. Exeunt all but SICINIUS
+	and BRUTUS]
+
+BRUTUS	You see how he intends to use the people.
+
+SICINIUS	May they perceive's intent! He will require them,
+	As if he did contemn what he requested
+	Should be in them to give.
+
+BRUTUS	Come, we'll inform them
+	Of our proceedings here: on the marketplace,
+	I know, they do attend us.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. The Forum.
+
+
+	[Enter seven or eight Citizens]
+
+First Citizen	Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him.
+
+Second Citizen	We may, sir, if we will.
+
+Third Citizen	We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a
+	power that we have no power to do; for if he show us
+	his wounds and tell us his deeds, we are to put our
+	tongues into those wounds and speak for them; so, if
+	he tell us his noble deeds, we must also tell him
+	our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is
+	monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful,
+	were to make a monster of the multitude: of the
+	which we being members, should bring ourselves to be
+	monstrous members.
+
+First Citizen	And to make us no better thought of, a little help
+	will serve; for once we stood up about the corn, he
+	himself stuck not to call us the many-headed multitude.
+
+Third Citizen	We have been called so of many; not that our heads
+	are some brown, some black, some auburn, some bald,
+	but that our wits are so diversely coloured: and
+	truly I think if all our wits were to issue out of
+	one skull, they would fly east, west, north, south,
+	and their consent of one direct way should be at
+	once to all the points o' the compass.
+
+Second Citizen	Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would
+	fly?
+
+Third Citizen	Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man's
+	will;'tis strongly wedged up in a block-head, but
+	if it were at liberty, 'twould, sure, southward.
+
+Second Citizen	Why that way?
+
+Third Citizen	To lose itself in a fog, where being three parts
+	melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return
+	for conscience sake, to help to get thee a wife.
+
+Second Citizen	You are never without your tricks: you may, you may.
+
+Third Citizen	Are you all resolved to give your voices? But
+	that's no matter, the greater part carries it. I
+	say, if he would incline to the people, there was
+	never a worthier man.
+
+	[Enter CORIOLANUS in a gown of humility,
+	with MENENIUS]
+
+	Here he comes, and in the gown of humility: mark his
+	behavior. We are not to stay all together, but to
+	come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, and
+	by threes. He's to make his requests by
+	particulars; wherein every one of us has a single
+	honour, in giving him our own voices with our own
+	tongues: therefore follow me, and I direct you how
+	you shall go by him.
+
+All	Content, content.
+
+	[Exeunt Citizens]
+
+MENENIUS	O sir, you are not right: have you not known
+	The worthiest men have done't?
+
+CORIOLANUS	What must I say?
+	'I Pray, sir'--Plague upon't! I cannot bring
+	My tongue to such a pace:--'Look, sir, my wounds!
+	I got them in my country's service, when
+	Some certain of your brethren roar'd and ran
+	From the noise of our own drums.'
+
+MENENIUS	O me, the gods!
+	You must not speak of that: you must desire them
+	To think upon you.
+
+CORIOLANUS	                  Think upon me! hang 'em!
+	I would they would forget me, like the virtues
+	Which our divines lose by 'em.
+
+MENENIUS	You'll mar all:
+	I'll leave you: pray you, speak to 'em, I pray you,
+	In wholesome manner.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CORIOLANUS	Bid them wash their faces
+	And keep their teeth clean.
+
+	[Re-enter two of the Citizens]
+
+		      So, here comes a brace.
+
+	[Re-enter a third Citizen]
+
+	You know the cause, air, of my standing here.
+
+Third Citizen	We do, sir; tell us what hath brought you to't.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Mine own desert.
+
+Second Citizen	Your own desert!
+
+CORIOLANUS	Ay, but not mine own desire.
+
+Third Citizen	How not your own desire?
+
+CORIOLANUS	No, sir,'twas never my desire yet to trouble the
+	poor with begging.
+
+Third Citizen	You must think, if we give you any thing, we hope to
+	gain by you.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Well then, I pray, your price o' the consulship?
+
+First Citizen	The price is to ask it kindly.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Kindly! Sir, I pray, let me ha't: I have wounds to
+	show you, which shall be yours in private. Your
+	good voice, sir; what say you?
+
+Second Citizen	You shall ha' it, worthy sir.
+
+CORIOLANUS	A match, sir. There's in all two worthy voices
+	begged. I have your alms: adieu.
+
+Third Citizen	But this is something odd.
+
+Second Citizen	An 'twere to give again,--but 'tis no matter.
+
+	[Exeunt the three Citizens]
+
+	[Re-enter two other Citizens]
+
+CORIOLANUS	Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your
+	voices that I may be consul, I have here the
+	customary gown.
+
+Fourth Citizen	You have deserved nobly of your country, and you
+	have not deserved nobly.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Your enigma?
+
+Fourth Citizen	You have been a scourge to her enemies, you have
+	been a rod to her friends; you have not indeed loved
+	the common people.
+
+CORIOLANUS	You should account me the more virtuous that I have
+	not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my
+	sworn brother, the people, to earn a dearer
+	estimation of them; 'tis a condition they account
+	gentle: and since the wisdom of their choice is
+	rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise
+	the insinuating nod and be off to them most
+	counterfeitly; that is, sir, I will counterfeit the
+	bewitchment of some popular man and give it
+	bountiful to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you,
+	I may be consul.
+
+Fifth Citizen	We hope to find you our friend; and therefore give
+	you our voices heartily.
+
+Fourth Citizen	You have received many wounds for your country.
+
+CORIOLANUS	I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I
+	will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further.
+
+Both Citizens	The gods give you joy, sir, heartily!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+CORIOLANUS	Most sweet voices!
+	Better it is to die, better to starve,
+	Than crave the hire which first we do deserve.
+	Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here,
+	To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear,
+	Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to't:
+	What custom wills, in all things should we do't,
+	The dust on antique time would lie unswept,
+	And mountainous error be too highly heapt
+	For truth to o'er-peer. Rather than fool it so,
+	Let the high office and the honour go
+	To one that would do thus. I am half through;
+	The one part suffer'd, the other will I do.
+
+	[Re-enter three Citizens more]
+
+	Here come more voices.
+	Your voices: for your voices I have fought;
+	Watch'd for your voices; for Your voices bear
+	Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six
+	I have seen and heard of; for your voices have
+	Done many things, some less, some more your voices:
+	Indeed I would be consul.
+
+Sixth Citizen	He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest
+	man's voice.
+
+Seventh Citizen	Therefore let him be consul: the gods give him joy,
+	and make him good friend to the people!
+
+All Citizens	Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+CORIOLANUS	Worthy voices!
+
+	[Re-enter MENENIUS, with BRUTUS and SICINIUS]
+
+MENENIUS	You have stood your limitation; and the tribunes
+	Endue you with the people's voice: remains
+	That, in the official marks invested, you
+	Anon do meet the senate.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Is this done?
+
+SICINIUS	The custom of request you have discharged:
+	The people do admit you, and are summon'd
+	To meet anon, upon your approbation.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Where? at the senate-house?
+
+SICINIUS	There, Coriolanus.
+
+CORIOLANUS	May I change these garments?
+
+SICINIUS	You may, sir.
+
+CORIOLANUS	That I'll straight do; and, knowing myself again,
+	Repair to the senate-house.
+
+MENENIUS	I'll keep you company. Will you along?
+
+BRUTUS	We stay here for the people.
+
+SICINIUS	Fare you well.
+
+	[Exeunt CORIOLANUS and MENENIUS]
+
+	He has it now, and by his looks methink
+	'Tis warm at 's heart.
+
+BRUTUS	With a proud heart he wore his humble weeds.
+	will you dismiss the people?
+
+	[Re-enter Citizens]
+
+SICINIUS	How now, my masters! have you chose this man?
+
+First Citizen	He has our voices, sir.
+
+BRUTUS	We pray the gods he may deserve your loves.
+
+Second Citizen	Amen, sir: to my poor unworthy notice,
+	He mock'd us when he begg'd our voices.
+
+Third Citizen	Certainly
+	He flouted us downright.
+
+First Citizen	No,'tis his kind of speech: he did not mock us.
+
+Second Citizen	Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says
+	He used us scornfully: he should have show'd us
+	His marks of merit, wounds received for's country.
+
+SICINIUS	Why, so he did, I am sure.
+
+Citizens	No, no; no man saw 'em.
+
+Third Citizen	He said he had wounds, which he could show
+	in private;
+	And with his hat, thus waving it in scorn,
+	'I would be consul,' says he: 'aged custom,
+	But by your voices, will not so permit me;
+	Your voices therefore.' When we granted that,
+	Here was 'I thank you for your voices: thank you:
+	Your most sweet voices: now you have left
+	your voices,
+	I have no further with you.' Was not this mockery?
+
+SICINIUS	Why either were you ignorant to see't,
+	Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness
+	To yield your voices?
+
+BRUTUS	Could you not have told him
+	As you were lesson'd, when he had no power,
+	But was a petty servant to the state,
+	He was your enemy, ever spake against
+	Your liberties and the charters that you bear
+	I' the body of the weal; and now, arriving
+	A place of potency and sway o' the state,
+	If he should still malignantly remain
+	Fast foe to the plebeii, your voices might
+	Be curses to yourselves? You should have said
+	That as his worthy deeds did claim no less
+	Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature
+	Would think upon you for your voices and
+	Translate his malice towards you into love,
+	Standing your friendly lord.
+
+SICINIUS	Thus to have said,
+	As you were fore-advised, had touch'd his spirit
+	And tried his inclination; from him pluck'd
+	Either his gracious promise, which you might,
+	As cause had call'd you up, have held him to
+	Or else it would have gall'd his surly nature,
+	Which easily endures not article
+	Tying him to aught; so putting him to rage,
+	You should have ta'en the advantage of his choler
+	And pass'd him unelected.
+
+BRUTUS	Did you perceive
+	He did solicit you in free contempt
+	When he did need your loves, and do you think
+	That his contempt shall not be bruising to you,
+	When he hath power to crush? Why, had your bodies
+	No heart among you? or had you tongues to cry
+	Against the rectorship of judgment?
+
+SICINIUS	Have you
+	Ere now denied the asker? and now again
+	Of him that did not ask, but mock, bestow
+	Your sued-for tongues?
+
+Third Citizen	He's not confirm'd; we may deny him yet.
+
+Second Citizen	And will deny him:
+	I'll have five hundred voices of that sound.
+
+First Citizen	I twice five hundred and their friends to piece 'em.
+
+BRUTUS	Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends,
+	They have chose a consul that will from them take
+	Their liberties; make them of no more voice
+	Than dogs that are as often beat for barking
+	As therefore kept to do so.
+
+SICINIUS	Let them assemble,
+	And on a safer judgment all revoke
+	Your ignorant election; enforce his pride,
+	And his old hate unto you; besides, forget not
+	With what contempt he wore the humble weed,
+	How in his suit he scorn'd you; but your loves,
+	Thinking upon his services, took from you
+	The apprehension of his present portance,
+	Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion
+	After the inveterate hate he bears you.
+
+BRUTUS	Lay
+	A fault on us, your tribunes; that we laboured,
+	No impediment between, but that you must
+	Cast your election on him.
+
+SICINIUS	Say, you chose him
+	More after our commandment than as guided
+	By your own true affections, and that your minds,
+	Preoccupied with what you rather must do
+	Than what you should, made you against the grain
+	To voice him consul: lay the fault on us.
+
+BRUTUS	Ay, spare us not. Say we read lectures to you.
+	How youngly he began to serve his country,
+	How long continued, and what stock he springs of,
+	The noble house o' the Marcians, from whence came
+	That Ancus Marcius, Numa's daughter's son,
+	Who, after great Hostilius, here was king;
+	Of the same house Publius and Quintus were,
+	That our beat water brought by conduits hither;
+	And  [Censorinus,]  nobly named so,
+	Twice being  [by the people chosen]  censor,
+	Was his great ancestor.
+
+SICINIUS	One thus descended,
+	That hath beside well in his person wrought
+	To be set high in place, we did commend
+	To your remembrances: but you have found,
+	Scaling his present bearing with his past,
+	That he's your fixed enemy, and revoke
+	Your sudden approbation.
+
+BRUTUS	Say, you ne'er had done't--
+	Harp on that still--but by our putting on;
+	And presently, when you have drawn your number,
+	Repair to the Capitol.
+
+All	We will so: almost all
+	Repent in their election.
+
+	[Exeunt Citizens]
+
+BRUTUS	Let them go on;
+	This mutiny were better put in hazard,
+	Than stay, past doubt, for greater:
+	If, as his nature is, he fall in rage
+	With their refusal, both observe and answer
+	The vantage of his anger.
+
+SICINIUS	To the Capitol, come:
+	We will be there before the stream o' the people;
+	And this shall seem, as partly 'tis, their own,
+	Which we have goaded onward.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rome. A street.
+
+
+	[Cornets. Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, all the
+	Gentry, COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators]
+
+CORIOLANUS	Tullus Aufidius then had made new head?
+
+LARTIUS	He had, my lord; and that it was which caused
+	Our swifter composition.
+
+CORIOLANUS	So then the Volsces stand but as at first,
+	Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road.
+	Upon's again.
+
+COMINIUS	They are worn, lord consul, so,
+	That we shall hardly in our ages see
+	Their banners wave again.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Saw you Aufidius?
+
+LARTIUS	On safe-guard he came to me; and did curse
+	Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely
+	Yielded the town: he is retired to Antium.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Spoke he of me?
+
+LARTIUS	                  He did, my lord.
+
+CORIOLANUS	How? what?
+
+LARTIUS	How often he had met you, sword to sword;
+	That of all things upon the earth he hated
+	Your person most, that he would pawn his fortunes
+	To hopeless restitution, so he might
+	Be call'd your vanquisher.
+
+CORIOLANUS	At Antium lives he?
+
+LARTIUS	At Antium.
+
+CORIOLANUS	I wish I had a cause to seek him there,
+	To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home.
+
+	[Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS]
+
+	Behold, these are the tribunes of the people,
+	The tongues o' the common mouth: I do despise them;
+	For they do prank them in authority,
+	Against all noble sufferance.
+
+SICINIUS	Pass no further.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Ha! what is that?
+
+BRUTUS	It will be dangerous to go on: no further.
+
+CORIOLANUS	What makes this change?
+
+MENENIUS	The matter?
+
+COMINIUS	Hath he not pass'd the noble and the common?
+
+BRUTUS	Cominius, no.
+
+CORIOLANUS	                  Have I had children's voices?
+
+First Senator	Tribunes, give way; he shall to the market-place.
+
+BRUTUS	The people are incensed against him.
+
+SICINIUS	Stop,
+	Or all will fall in broil.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Are these your herd?
+	Must these have voices, that can yield them now
+	And straight disclaim their tongues? What are
+	your offices?
+	You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth?
+	Have you not set them on?
+
+MENENIUS	Be calm, be calm.
+
+CORIOLANUS	It is a purposed thing, and grows by plot,
+	To curb the will of the nobility:
+	Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule
+	Nor ever will be ruled.
+
+BRUTUS	Call't not a plot:
+	The people cry you mock'd them, and of late,
+	When corn was given them gratis, you repined;
+	Scandal'd the suppliants for the people, call'd them
+	Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Why, this was known before.
+
+BRUTUS	Not to them all.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Have you inform'd them sithence?
+
+BRUTUS	How! I inform them!
+
+CORIOLANUS	You are like to do such business.
+
+BRUTUS	Not unlike,
+	Each way, to better yours.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds,
+	Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me
+	Your fellow tribune.
+
+SICINIUS	You show too much of that
+	For which the people stir: if you will pass
+	To where you are bound, you must inquire your way,
+	Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit,
+	Or never be so noble as a consul,
+	Nor yoke with him for tribune.
+
+MENENIUS	Let's be calm.
+
+COMINIUS	The people are abused; set on. This paltering
+	Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus
+	Deserved this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsely
+	I' the plain way of his merit.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Tell me of corn!
+	This was my speech, and I will speak't again--
+
+MENENIUS	Not now, not now.
+
+First Senator	                  Not in this heat, sir, now.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends,
+	I crave their pardons:
+	For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them
+	Regard me as I do not flatter, and
+	Therein behold themselves: I say again,
+	In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate
+	The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,
+	Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd,
+	and scatter'd,
+	By mingling them with us, the honour'd number,
+	Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that
+	Which they have given to beggars.
+
+MENENIUS	Well, no more.
+
+First Senator	No more words, we beseech you.
+
+CORIOLANUS	How! no more!
+	As for my country I have shed my blood,
+	Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs
+	Coin words till their decay against those measles,
+	Which we disdain should tatter us, yet sought
+	The very way to catch them.
+
+BRUTUS	You speak o' the people,
+	As if you were a god to punish, not
+	A man of their infirmity.
+
+SICINIUS	'Twere well
+	We let the people know't.
+
+MENENIUS	What, what? his choler?
+
+CORIOLANUS	Choler!
+	Were I as patient as the midnight sleep,
+	By Jove, 'twould be my mind!
+
+SICINIUS	It is a mind
+	That shall remain a poison where it is,
+	Not poison any further.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Shall remain!
+	Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you
+	His absolute 'shall'?
+
+COMINIUS	'Twas from the canon.
+
+CORIOLANUS	'Shall'!
+	O good but most unwise patricians! why,
+	You grave but reckless senators, have you thus
+	Given Hydra here to choose an officer,
+	That with his peremptory 'shall,' being but
+	The horn and noise o' the monster's, wants not spirit
+	To say he'll turn your current in a ditch,
+	And make your channel his? If he have power
+	Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake
+	Your dangerous lenity. If you are learn'd,
+	Be not as common fools; if you are not,
+	Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians,
+	If they be senators: and they are no less,
+	When, both your voices blended, the great'st taste
+	Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate,
+	And such a one as he, who puts his 'shall,'
+	His popular 'shall' against a graver bench
+	Than ever frown in Greece. By Jove himself!
+	It makes the consuls base: and my soul aches
+	To know, when two authorities are up,
+	Neither supreme, how soon confusion
+	May enter 'twixt the gap of both and take
+	The one by the other.
+
+COMINIUS	Well, on to the market-place.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth
+	The corn o' the storehouse gratis, as 'twas used
+	Sometime in Greece,--
+
+MENENIUS	Well, well, no more of that.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Though there the people had more absolute power,
+	I say, they nourish'd disobedience, fed
+	The ruin of the state.
+
+BRUTUS	Why, shall the people give
+	One that speaks thus their voice?
+
+CORIOLANUS	I'll give my reasons,
+	More worthier than their voices. They know the corn
+	Was not our recompense, resting well assured
+	That ne'er did service for't: being press'd to the war,
+	Even when the navel of the state was touch'd,
+	They would not thread the gates. This kind of service
+	Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i' the war
+	Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show'd
+	Most valour, spoke not for them: the accusation
+	Which they have often made against the senate,
+	All cause unborn, could never be the motive
+	Of our so frank donation. Well, what then?
+	How shall this bisson multitude digest
+	The senate's courtesy? Let deeds express
+	What's like to be their words: 'we did request it;
+	We are the greater poll, and in true fear
+	They gave us our demands.' Thus we debase
+	The nature of our seats and make the rabble
+	Call our cares fears; which will in time
+	Break ope the locks o' the senate and bring in
+	The crows to peck the eagles.
+
+MENENIUS	Come, enough.
+
+BRUTUS	Enough, with over-measure.
+
+CORIOLANUS	No, take more:
+	What may be sworn by, both divine and human,
+	Seal what I end withal! This double worship,
+	Where one part does disdain with cause, the other
+	Insult without all reason, where gentry, title, wisdom,
+	Cannot conclude but by the yea and no
+	Of general ignorance,--it must omit
+	Real necessities, and give way the while
+	To unstable slightness: purpose so barr'd,
+	it follows,
+	Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,--
+	You that will be less fearful than discreet,
+	That love the fundamental part of state
+	More than you doubt the change on't, that prefer
+	A noble life before a long, and wish
+	To jump a body with a dangerous physic
+	That's sure of death without it, at once pluck out
+	The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick
+	The sweet which is their poison: your dishonour
+	Mangles true judgment and bereaves the state
+	Of that integrity which should become't,
+	Not having the power to do the good it would,
+	For the in which doth control't.
+
+BRUTUS	Has said enough.
+
+SICINIUS	Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer
+	As traitors do.
+
+CORIOLANUS	                  Thou wretch, despite o'erwhelm thee!
+	What should the people do with these bald tribunes?
+	On whom depending, their obedience fails
+	To the greater bench: in a rebellion,
+	When what's not meet, but what must be, was law,
+	Then were they chosen: in a better hour,
+	Let what is meet be said it must be meet,
+	And throw their power i' the dust.
+
+BRUTUS	Manifest treason!
+
+SICINIUS	                  This a consul? no.
+
+BRUTUS	The aediles, ho!
+
+	[Enter an AEdile]
+
+	Let him be apprehended.
+
+SICINIUS	Go, call the people:
+
+	[Exit AEdile]
+
+		in whose name myself
+	Attach thee as a traitorous innovator,
+	A foe to the public weal: obey, I charge thee,
+	And follow to thine answer.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Hence, old goat!
+
+Senators, &C	We'll surety him.
+
+COMINIUS	                  Aged sir, hands off.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Hence, rotten thing! or I shall shake thy bones
+	Out of thy garments.
+
+SICINIUS	Help, ye citizens!
+
+	[Enter a rabble of Citizens (Plebeians), with
+	the AEdiles]
+
+MENENIUS	On both sides more respect.
+
+SICINIUS	Here's he that would take from you all your power.
+
+BRUTUS	Seize him, AEdiles!
+
+Citizens	Down with him! down with him!
+
+Senators, &C	Weapons, weapons, weapons!
+
+	[They all bustle about CORIOLANUS, crying]
+
+	'Tribunes!' 'Patricians!' 'Citizens!' 'What, ho!'
+	'Sicinius!' 'Brutus!' 'Coriolanus!' 'Citizens!'
+	'Peace, peace, peace!' 'Stay, hold, peace!'
+
+MENENIUS	What is about to be? I am out of breath;
+	Confusion's near; I cannot speak. You, tribunes
+	To the people! Coriolanus, patience!
+	Speak, good Sicinius.
+
+SICINIUS	Hear me, people; peace!
+
+Citizens	Let's hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak.
+
+SICINIUS	You are at point to lose your liberties:
+	Marcius would have all from you; Marcius,
+	Whom late you have named for consul.
+
+MENENIUS	Fie, fie, fie!
+	This is the way to kindle, not to quench.
+
+First Senator	To unbuild the city and to lay all flat.
+
+SICINIUS	What is the city but the people?
+
+Citizens	True,
+	The people are the city.
+
+BRUTUS	By the consent of all, we were establish'd
+	The people's magistrates.
+
+Citizens	You so remain.
+
+MENENIUS	And so are like to do.
+
+COMINIUS	That is the way to lay the city flat;
+	To bring the roof to the foundation,
+	And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges,
+	In heaps and piles of ruin.
+
+SICINIUS	This deserves death.
+
+BRUTUS	Or let us stand to our authority,
+	Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce,
+	Upon the part o' the people, in whose power
+	We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy
+	Of present death.
+
+SICINIUS	                  Therefore lay hold of him;
+	Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence
+	Into destruction cast him.
+
+BRUTUS	AEdiles, seize him!
+
+Citizens	Yield, Marcius, yield!
+
+MENENIUS	Hear me one word;
+	Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word.
+
+AEdile	Peace, peace!
+
+MENENIUS	[To BRUTUS]  Be that you seem, truly your
+	country's friend,
+	And temperately proceed to what you would
+	Thus violently redress.
+
+BRUTUS	Sir, those cold ways,
+	That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous
+	Where the disease is violent. Lay hands upon him,
+	And bear him to the rock.
+
+CORIOLANUS	No, I'll die here.
+
+	[Drawing his sword]
+
+	There's some among you have beheld me fighting:
+	Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me.
+
+MENENIUS	Down with that sword! Tribunes, withdraw awhile.
+
+BRUTUS	Lay hands upon him.
+
+COMINIUS	Help Marcius, help,
+	You that be noble; help him, young and old!
+
+Citizens	Down with him, down with him!
+
+	[In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the AEdiles, and the
+	People, are beat in]
+
+MENENIUS	Go, get you to your house; be gone, away!
+	All will be naught else.
+
+Second Senator	Get you gone.
+
+COMINIUS	Stand fast;
+	We have as many friends as enemies.
+
+MENENIUS	Sham it be put to that?
+
+First Senator	The gods forbid!
+	I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house;
+	Leave us to cure this cause.
+
+MENENIUS	For 'tis a sore upon us,
+	You cannot tent yourself: be gone, beseech you.
+
+COMINIUS	Come, sir, along with us.
+
+CORIOLANUS	I would they were barbarians--as they are,
+	Though in Rome litter'd--not Romans--as they are not,
+	Though calved i' the porch o' the Capitol--
+
+MENENIUS	Be gone;
+	Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;
+	One time will owe another.
+
+CORIOLANUS	On fair ground
+	I could beat forty of them.
+
+COMINIUS	I could myself
+	Take up a brace o' the best of them; yea, the
+	two tribunes:
+	But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic;
+	And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands
+	Against a falling fabric. Will you hence,
+	Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend
+	Like interrupted waters and o'erbear
+	What they are used to bear.
+
+MENENIUS	Pray you, be gone:
+	I'll try whether my old wit be in request
+	With those that have but little: this must be patch'd
+	With cloth of any colour.
+
+COMINIUS	Nay, come away.
+
+	[Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, and others]
+
+A Patrician	This man has marr'd his fortune.
+
+MENENIUS	His nature is too noble for the world:
+	He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
+	Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth:
+	What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;
+	And, being angry, does forget that ever
+	He heard the name of death.
+
+	[A noise within]
+
+		      Here's goodly work!
+
+Second Patrician	I would they were abed!
+
+MENENIUS	I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance!
+	Could he not speak 'em fair?
+
+	[Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the rabble]
+
+SICINIUS	Where is this viper
+	That would depopulate the city and
+	Be every man himself?
+
+MENENIUS	You worthy tribunes,--
+
+SICINIUS	He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock
+	With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law,
+	And therefore law shall scorn him further trial
+	Than the severity of the public power
+	Which he so sets at nought.
+
+First Citizen	He shall well know
+	The noble tribunes are the people's mouths,
+	And we their hands.
+
+Citizens	He shall, sure on't.
+
+MENENIUS	Sir, sir,--
+
+SICINIUS	Peace!
+
+MENENIUS	Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt
+	With modest warrant.
+
+SICINIUS	Sir, how comes't that you
+	Have holp to make this rescue?
+
+MENENIUS	Hear me speak:
+	As I do know the consul's worthiness,
+	So can I name his faults,--
+
+SICINIUS	Consul! what consul?
+
+MENENIUS	The consul Coriolanus.
+
+BRUTUS	He consul!
+
+Citizens	No, no, no, no, no.
+
+MENENIUS	If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people,
+	I may be heard, I would crave a word or two;
+	The which shall turn you to no further harm
+	Than so much loss of time.
+
+SICINIUS	Speak briefly then;
+	For we are peremptory to dispatch
+	This viperous traitor: to eject him hence
+	Were but one danger, and to keep him here
+	Our certain death: therefore it is decreed
+	He dies to-night.
+
+MENENIUS	                  Now the good gods forbid
+	That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude
+	Towards her deserved children is enroll'd
+	In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
+	Should now eat up her own!
+
+SICINIUS	He's a disease that must be cut away.
+
+MENENIUS	O, he's a limb that has but a disease;
+	Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy.
+	What has he done to Rome that's worthy death?
+	Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost--
+	Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath,
+	By many an ounce--he dropp'd it for his country;
+	And what is left, to lose it by his country,
+	Were to us all, that do't and suffer it,
+	A brand to the end o' the world.
+
+SICINIUS	This is clean kam.
+
+BRUTUS	Merely awry: when he did love his country,
+	It honour'd him.
+
+MENENIUS	                  The service of the foot
+	Being once gangrened, is not then respected
+	For what before it was.
+
+BRUTUS	We'll hear no more.
+	Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence:
+	Lest his infection, being of catching nature,
+	Spread further.
+
+MENENIUS	                  One word more, one word.
+	This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find
+	The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will too late
+	Tie leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process;
+	Lest parties, as he is beloved, break out,
+	And sack great Rome with Romans.
+
+BRUTUS	If it were so,--
+
+SICINIUS	What do ye talk?
+	Have we not had a taste of his obedience?
+	Our aediles smote? ourselves resisted? Come.
+
+MENENIUS	Consider this: he has been bred i' the wars
+	Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd
+	In bolted language; meal and bran together
+	He throws without distinction. Give me leave,
+	I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him
+	Where he shall answer, by a lawful form,
+	In peace, to his utmost peril.
+
+First Senator	Noble tribunes,
+	It is the humane way: the other course
+	Will prove too bloody, and the end of it
+	Unknown to the beginning.
+
+SICINIUS	Noble Menenius,
+	Be you then as the people's officer.
+	Masters, lay down your weapons.
+
+BRUTUS	Go not home.
+
+SICINIUS	Meet on the market-place. We'll attend you there:
+	Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed
+	In our first way.
+
+MENENIUS	                  I'll bring him to you.
+
+	[To the Senators]
+
+	Let me desire your company: he must come,
+	Or what is worst will follow.
+
+First Senator	Pray you, let's to him.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A room in CORIOLANUS'S house.
+
+
+	[Enter CORIOLANUS with Patricians]
+
+CORIOLANUS	Let them puff all about mine ears, present me
+	Death on the wheel or at wild horses' heels,
+	Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock,
+	That the precipitation might down stretch
+	Below the beam of sight, yet will I still
+	Be thus to them.
+
+A Patrician	You do the nobler.
+
+CORIOLANUS	I muse my mother
+	Does not approve me further, who was wont
+	To call them woollen vassals, things created
+	To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads
+	In congregations, to yawn, be still and wonder,
+	When one but of my ordinance stood up
+	To speak of peace or war.
+
+	[Enter VOLUMNIA]
+
+		    I talk of you:
+	Why did you wish me milder? would you have me
+	False to my nature? Rather say I play
+	The man I am.
+
+VOLUMNIA	                  O, sir, sir, sir,
+	I would have had you put your power well on,
+	Before you had worn it out.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Let go.
+
+VOLUMNIA	You might have been enough the man you are,
+	With striving less to be so; lesser had been
+	The thwartings of your dispositions, if
+	You had not show'd them how ye were disposed
+	Ere they lack'd power to cross you.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Let them hang.
+
+A Patrician	Ay, and burn too.
+
+	[Enter MENENIUS and Senators]
+
+MENENIUS	Come, come, you have been too rough, something
+	too rough;
+	You must return and mend it.
+
+First Senator	There's no remedy;
+	Unless, by not so doing, our good city
+	Cleave in the midst, and perish.
+
+VOLUMNIA	Pray, be counsell'd:
+	I have a heart as little apt as yours,
+	But yet a brain that leads my use of anger
+	To better vantage.
+
+MENENIUS	                  Well said, noble woman?
+	Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that
+	The violent fit o' the time craves it as physic
+	For the whole state, I would put mine armour on,
+	Which I can scarcely bear.
+
+CORIOLANUS	What must I do?
+
+MENENIUS	Return to the tribunes.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Well, what then? what then?
+
+MENENIUS	Repent what you have spoke.
+
+CORIOLANUS	For them! I cannot do it to the gods;
+	Must I then do't to them?
+
+VOLUMNIA	You are too absolute;
+	Though therein you can never be too noble,
+	But when extremities speak. I have heard you say,
+	Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends,
+	I' the war do grow together: grant that, and tell me,
+	In peace what each of them by the other lose,
+	That they combine not there.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Tush, tush!
+
+MENENIUS	A good demand.
+
+VOLUMNIA	If it be honour in your wars to seem
+	The same you are not, which, for your best ends,
+	You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse,
+	That it shall hold companionship in peace
+	With honour, as in war, since that to both
+	It stands in like request?
+
+CORIOLANUS	Why force you this?
+
+VOLUMNIA	Because that now it lies you on to speak
+	To the people; not by your own instruction,
+	Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you,
+	But with such words that are but rooted in
+	Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables
+	Of no allowance to your bosom's truth.
+	Now, this no more dishonours you at all
+	Than to take in a town with gentle words,
+	Which else would put you to your fortune and
+	The hazard of much blood.
+	I would dissemble with my nature where
+	My fortunes and my friends at stake required
+	I should do so in honour: I am in this,
+	Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles;
+	And you will rather show our general louts
+	How you can frown than spend a fawn upon 'em,
+	For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard
+	Of what that want might ruin.
+
+MENENIUS	Noble lady!
+	Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so,
+	Not what is dangerous present, but the loss
+	Of what is past.
+
+VOLUMNIA	                  I prithee now, my son,
+	Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand;
+	And thus far having stretch'd it--here be with them--
+	Thy knee bussing the stones--for in such business
+	Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant
+	More learned than the ears--waving thy head,
+	Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart,
+	Now humble as the ripest mulberry
+	That will not hold the handling: or say to them,
+	Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils
+	Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess,
+	Were fit for thee to use as they to claim,
+	In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame
+	Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far
+	As thou hast power and person.
+
+MENENIUS	This but done,
+	Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours;
+	For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free
+	As words to little purpose.
+
+VOLUMNIA	Prithee now,
+	Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather
+	Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf
+	Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius.
+
+	[Enter COMINIUS]
+
+COMINIUS	I have been i' the market-place; and, sir,'tis fit
+	You make strong party, or defend yourself
+	By calmness or by absence: all's in anger.
+
+MENENIUS	Only fair speech.
+
+COMINIUS	                  I think 'twill serve, if he
+	Can thereto frame his spirit.
+
+VOLUMNIA	He must, and will
+	Prithee now, say you will, and go about it.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce?
+	Must I with base tongue give my noble heart
+	A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do't:
+	Yet, were there but this single plot to lose,
+	This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it
+	And throw't against the wind. To the market-place!
+	You have put me now to such a part which never
+	I shall discharge to the life.
+
+COMINIUS	Come, come, we'll prompt you.
+
+VOLUMNIA	I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said
+	My praises made thee first a soldier, so,
+	To have my praise for this, perform a part
+	Thou hast not done before.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Well, I must do't:
+	Away, my disposition, and possess me
+	Some harlot's spirit! my throat of war be turn'd,
+	Which quired with my drum, into a pipe
+	Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice
+	That babies lulls asleep! the smiles of knaves
+	Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears take up
+	The glasses of my sight! a beggar's tongue
+	Make motion through my lips, and my arm'd knees,
+	Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his
+	That hath received an alms! I will not do't,
+	Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth
+	And by my body's action teach my mind
+	A most inherent baseness.
+
+VOLUMNIA	At thy choice, then:
+	To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour
+	Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let
+	Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear
+	Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death
+	With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list
+	Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me,
+	But owe thy pride thyself.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Pray, be content:
+	Mother, I am going to the market-place;
+	Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves,
+	Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved
+	Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going:
+	Commend me to my wife. I'll return consul;
+	Or never trust to what my tongue can do
+	I' the way of flattery further.
+
+VOLUMNIA	Do your will.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+COMINIUS	Away! the tribunes do attend you: arm yourself
+	To answer mildly; for they are prepared
+	With accusations, as I hear, more strong
+	Than are upon you yet.
+
+CORIOLANUS	The word is 'mildly.' Pray you, let us go:
+	Let them accuse me by invention, I
+	Will answer in mine honour.
+
+MENENIUS	Ay, but mildly.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Well, mildly be it then. Mildly!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. The Forum.
+
+
+	[Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS]
+
+BRUTUS	In this point charge him home, that he affects
+	Tyrannical power: if he evade us there,
+	Enforce him with his envy to the people,
+	And that the spoil got on the Antiates
+	Was ne'er distributed.
+
+	[Enter an AEdile]
+
+	What, will he come?
+
+AEdile	He's coming.
+
+BRUTUS	How accompanied?
+
+AEdile	With old Menenius, and those senators
+	That always favour'd him.
+
+SICINIUS	Have you a catalogue
+	Of all the voices that we have procured
+	Set down by the poll?
+
+AEdile	I have; 'tis ready.
+
+SICINIUS	Have you collected them by tribes?
+
+AEdile	I have.
+
+SICINIUS	Assemble presently the people hither;
+	And when they bear me say 'It shall be so
+	I' the right and strength o' the commons,' be it either
+	For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them
+	If I say fine, cry 'Fine;' if death, cry 'Death.'
+	Insisting on the old prerogative
+	And power i' the truth o' the cause.
+
+AEdile	I shall inform them.
+
+BRUTUS	And when such time they have begun to cry,
+	Let them not cease, but with a din confused
+	Enforce the present execution
+	Of what we chance to sentence.
+
+AEdile	Very well.
+
+SICINIUS	Make them be strong and ready for this hint,
+	When we shall hap to give 't them.
+
+BRUTUS	Go about it.
+
+	[Exit AEdile]
+
+	Put him to choler straight: he hath been used
+	Ever to conquer, and to have his worth
+	Of contradiction: being once chafed, he cannot
+	Be rein'd again to temperance; then he speaks
+	What's in his heart; and that is there which looks
+	With us to break his neck.
+
+SICINIUS	Well, here he comes.
+
+	[Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, and COMINIUS,
+	with Senators and Patricians]
+
+MENENIUS	Calmly, I do beseech you.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Ay, as an ostler, that for the poorest piece
+	Will bear the knave by the volume. The honour'd gods
+	Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice
+	Supplied with worthy men! plant love among 's!
+	Throng our large temples with the shows of peace,
+	And not our streets with war!
+
+First Senator	Amen, amen.
+
+MENENIUS	A noble wish.
+
+	[Re-enter AEdile, with Citizens]
+
+SICINIUS	Draw near, ye people.
+
+AEdile	List to your tribunes. Audience: peace, I say!
+
+CORIOLANUS	First, hear me speak.
+
+Both Tribunes	Well, say. Peace, ho!
+
+CORIOLANUS	Shall I be charged no further than this present?
+	Must all determine here?
+
+SICINIUS	I do demand,
+	If you submit you to the people's voices,
+	Allow their officers and are content
+	To suffer lawful censure for such faults
+	As shall be proved upon you?
+
+CORIOLANUS	I am content.
+
+MENENIUS	Lo, citizens, he says he is content:
+	The warlike service he has done, consider; think
+	Upon the wounds his body bears, which show
+	Like graves i' the holy churchyard.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Scratches with briers,
+	Scars to move laughter only.
+
+MENENIUS	Consider further,
+	That when he speaks not like a citizen,
+	You find him like a soldier: do not take
+	His rougher accents for malicious sounds,
+	But, as I say, such as become a soldier,
+	Rather than envy you.
+
+COMINIUS	Well, well, no more.
+
+CORIOLANUS	What is the matter
+	That being pass'd for consul with full voice,
+	I am so dishonour'd that the very hour
+	You take it off again?
+
+SICINIUS	Answer to us.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Say, then: 'tis true, I ought so.
+
+SICINIUS	We charge you, that you have contrived to take
+	From Rome all season'd office and to wind
+	Yourself into a power tyrannical;
+	For which you are a traitor to the people.
+
+CORIOLANUS	How! traitor!
+
+MENENIUS	                  Nay, temperately; your promise.
+
+CORIOLANUS	The fires i' the lowest hell fold-in the people!
+	Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune!
+	Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,
+	In thy hand clutch'd as many millions, in
+	Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say
+	'Thou liest' unto thee with a voice as free
+	As I do pray the gods.
+
+SICINIUS	Mark you this, people?
+
+Citizens	To the rock, to the rock with him!
+
+SICINIUS	Peace!
+	We need not put new matter to his charge:
+	What you have seen him do and heard him speak,
+	Beating your officers, cursing yourselves,
+	Opposing laws with strokes and here defying
+	Those whose great power must try him; even this,
+	So criminal and in such capital kind,
+	Deserves the extremest death.
+
+BRUTUS	But since he hath
+	Served well for Rome,--
+
+CORIOLANUS	What do you prate of service?
+
+BRUTUS	I talk of that, that know it.
+
+CORIOLANUS	You?
+
+MENENIUS	Is this the promise that you made your mother?
+
+COMINIUS	Know, I pray you,--
+
+CORIOLANUS	I know no further:
+	Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,
+	Vagabond exile, raying, pent to linger
+	But with a grain a day, I would not buy
+	Their mercy at the price of one fair word;
+	Nor cheque my courage for what they can give,
+	To have't with saying 'Good morrow.'
+
+SICINIUS	For that he has,
+	As much as in him lies, from time to time
+	Envied against the people, seeking means
+	To pluck away their power, as now at last
+	Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence
+	Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers
+	That do distribute it; in the name o' the people
+	And in the power of us the tribunes, we,
+	Even from this instant, banish him our city,
+	In peril of precipitation
+	From off the rock Tarpeian never more
+	To enter our Rome gates: i' the people's name,
+	I say it shall be so.
+
+Citizens	It shall be so, it shall be so; let him away:
+	He's banish'd, and it shall be so.
+
+COMINIUS	Hear me, my masters, and my common friends,--
+
+SICINIUS	He's sentenced; no more hearing.
+
+COMINIUS	Let me speak:
+	I have been consul, and can show for Rome
+	Her enemies' marks upon me. I do love
+	My country's good with a respect more tender,
+	More holy and profound, than mine own life,
+	My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase,
+	And treasure of my loins; then if I would
+	Speak that,--
+
+SICINIUS	                  We know your drift: speak what?
+
+BRUTUS	There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd,
+	As enemy to the people and his country:
+	It shall be so.
+
+Citizens	It shall be so, it shall be so.
+
+CORIOLANUS	You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate
+	As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize
+	As the dead carcasses of unburied men
+	That do corrupt my air, I banish you;
+	And here remain with your uncertainty!
+	Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts!
+	Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
+	Fan you into despair! Have the power still
+	To banish your defenders; till at length
+	Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels,
+	Making not reservation of yourselves,
+	Still your own foes, deliver you as most
+	Abated captives to some nation
+	That won you without blows! Despising,
+	For you, the city, thus I turn my back:
+	There is a world elsewhere.
+
+	[Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, MENENIUS, Senators,
+	and Patricians]
+
+AEdile	The people's enemy is gone, is gone!
+
+Citizens	Our enemy is banish'd! he is gone! Hoo! hoo!
+
+	[Shouting, and throwing up their caps]
+
+SICINIUS	Go, see him out at gates, and follow him,
+	As he hath followed you, with all despite;
+	Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard
+	Attend us through the city.
+
+Citizens	Come, come; let's see him out at gates; come.
+	The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rome. Before a gate of the city.
+
+
+	[Enter CORIOLANUS, VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, MENENIUS,
+	COMINIUS, with the young Nobility of Rome]
+
+CORIOLANUS	Come, leave your tears: a brief farewell: the beast
+	With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother,
+	Where is your ancient courage? you were used
+	To say extremity was the trier of spirits;
+	That common chances common men could bear;
+	That when the sea was calm all boats alike
+	Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows,
+	When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves
+	A noble cunning: you were used to load me
+	With precepts that would make invincible
+	The heart that conn'd them.
+
+VIRGILIA	O heavens! O heavens!
+
+CORIOLANUS	Nay! prithee, woman,--
+
+VOLUMNIA	Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome,
+	And occupations perish!
+
+CORIOLANUS	What, what, what!
+	I shall be loved when I am lack'd. Nay, mother.
+	Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say,
+	If you had been the wife of Hercules,
+	Six of his labours you'ld have done, and saved
+	Your husband so much sweat. Cominius,
+	Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother:
+	I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius,
+	Thy tears are salter than a younger man's,
+	And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general,
+	I have seen thee stem, and thou hast oft beheld
+	Heart-hardening spectacles; tell these sad women
+	'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes,
+	As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My mother, you wot well
+	My hazards still have been your solace: and
+	Believe't not lightly--though I go alone,
+	Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen
+	Makes fear'd and talk'd of more than seen--your son
+	Will or exceed the common or be caught
+	With cautelous baits and practise.
+
+VOLUMNIA	My first son.
+	Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius
+	With thee awhile: determine on some course,
+	More than a wild exposture to each chance
+	That starts i' the way before thee.
+
+CORIOLANUS	O the gods!
+
+COMINIUS	I'll follow thee a month, devise with thee
+	Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us
+	And we of thee: so if the time thrust forth
+	A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send
+	O'er the vast world to seek a single man,
+	And lose advantage, which doth ever cool
+	I' the absence of the needer.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Fare ye well:
+	Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full
+	Of the wars' surfeits, to go rove with one
+	That's yet unbruised: bring me but out at gate.
+	Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and
+	My friends of noble touch, when I am forth,
+	Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come.
+	While I remain above the ground, you shall
+	Hear from me still, and never of me aught
+	But what is like me formerly.
+
+MENENIUS	That's worthily
+	As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep.
+	If I could shake off but one seven years
+	From these old arms and legs, by the good gods,
+	I'ld with thee every foot.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Give me thy hand: Come.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. A  street near the gate.
+
+
+	[Enter SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and an AEdile]
+
+SICINIUS	Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll no further.
+	The nobility are vex'd, whom we see have sided
+	In his behalf.
+
+BRUTUS	                  Now we have shown our power,
+	Let us seem humbler after it is done
+	Than when it was a-doing.
+
+SICINIUS	Bid them home:
+	Say their great enemy is gone, and they
+	Stand in their ancient strength.
+
+BRUTUS	Dismiss them home.
+
+	[Exit AEdile]
+
+	Here comes his mother.
+
+SICINIUS	Let's not meet her.
+
+BRUTUS	Why?
+
+SICINIUS	They say she's mad.
+
+BRUTUS	They have ta'en note of us: keep on your way.
+
+	[Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and MENENIUS]
+
+VOLUMNIA	O, ye're well met: the hoarded plague o' the gods
+	Requite your love!
+
+MENENIUS	                  Peace, peace; be not so loud.
+
+VOLUMNIA	If that I could for weeping, you should hear,--
+	Nay, and you shall hear some.
+
+	[To BRUTUS]
+
+		        Will you be gone?
+
+VIRGILIA	[To SICINIUS]  You shall stay too: I would I had the power
+	To say so to my husband.
+
+SICINIUS	Are you mankind?
+
+VOLUMNIA	Ay, fool; is that a shame? Note but this fool.
+	Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship
+	To banish him that struck more blows for Rome
+	Than thou hast spoken words?
+
+SICINIUS	O blessed heavens!
+
+VOLUMNIA	More noble blows than ever thou wise words;
+	And for Rome's good. I'll tell thee what; yet go:
+	Nay, but thou shalt stay too: I would my son
+	Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him,
+	His good sword in his hand.
+
+SICINIUS	What then?
+
+VIRGILIA	What then!
+	He'ld make an end of thy posterity.
+
+VOLUMNIA	Bastards and all.
+	Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!
+
+MENENIUS	Come, come, peace.
+
+SICINIUS	I would he had continued to his country
+	As he began, and not unknit himself
+	The noble knot he made.
+
+BRUTUS	I would he had.
+
+VOLUMNIA	'I would he had'! 'Twas you incensed the rabble:
+	Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth
+	As I can of those mysteries which heaven
+	Will not have earth to know.
+
+BRUTUS	Pray, let us go.
+
+VOLUMNIA	Now, pray, sir, get you gone:
+	You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:--
+	As far as doth the Capitol exceed
+	The meanest house in Rome, so far my son--
+	This lady's husband here, this, do you see--
+	Whom you have banish'd, does exceed you all.
+
+BRUTUS	Well, well, we'll leave you.
+
+SICINIUS	Why stay we to be baited
+	With one that wants her wits?
+
+VOLUMNIA	Take my prayers with you.
+
+	[Exeunt Tribunes]
+
+	I would the gods had nothing else to do
+	But to confirm my curses! Could I meet 'em
+	But once a-day, it would unclog my heart
+	Of what lies heavy to't.
+
+MENENIUS	You have told them home;
+	And, by my troth, you have cause. You'll sup with me?
+
+VOLUMNIA	Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself,
+	And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let's go:
+	Leave this faint puling and lament as I do,
+	In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come.
+
+MENENIUS	Fie, fie, fie!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A highway between Rome and Antium.
+
+
+	[Enter a Roman and a Volsce, meeting]
+
+Roman	I know you well, sir, and you know
+	me: your name, I think, is Adrian.
+
+Volsce	It is so, sir: truly, I have forgot you.
+
+Roman	I am a Roman; and my services are,
+	as you are, against 'em: know you me yet?
+
+Volsce	Nicanor? no.
+
+Roman	The same, sir.
+
+Volsce	You had more beard when I last saw you; but your
+	favour is well approved by your tongue. What's the
+	news in Rome? I have a note from the Volscian state,
+	to find you out there: you have well saved me a
+	day's journey.
+
+Roman	There hath been in Rome strange insurrections; the
+	people against the senators, patricians, and nobles.
+
+Volsce	Hath been! is it ended, then? Our state thinks not
+	so: they are in a most warlike preparation, and
+	hope to come upon them in the heat of their division.
+
+Roman	The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing
+	would make it flame again: for the nobles receive
+	so to heart the banishment of that worthy
+	Coriolanus, that they are in a ripe aptness to take
+	all power from the people and to pluck from them
+	their tribunes for ever. This lies glowing, I can
+	tell you, and is almost mature for the violent
+	breaking out.
+
+Volsce	Coriolanus banished!
+
+Roman	Banished, sir.
+
+Volsce	You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor.
+
+Roman	The day serves well for them now. I have heard it
+	said, the fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is
+	when she's fallen out with her husband. Your noble
+	Tullus Aufidius will appear well in these wars, his
+	great opposer, Coriolanus, being now in no request
+	of his country.
+
+Volsce	He cannot choose. I am most fortunate, thus
+	accidentally to encounter you: you have ended my
+	business, and I will merrily accompany you home.
+
+Roman	I shall, between this and supper, tell you most
+	strange things from Rome; all tending to the good of
+	their adversaries. Have you an army ready, say you?
+
+Volsce	A most royal one; the centurions and their charges,
+	distinctly billeted, already in the entertainment,
+	and to be on foot at an hour's warning.
+
+Roman	I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the
+	man, I think, that shall set them in present action.
+	So, sir, heartily well met, and most glad of your company.
+
+Volsce	You take my part from me, sir; I have the most cause
+	to be glad of yours.
+
+Roman	Well, let us go together.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Antium. Before Aufidius's house.
+
+
+	[Enter CORIOLANUS in mean apparel, disguised
+	and muffled]
+
+CORIOLANUS	A goodly city is this Antium. City,
+	'Tis I that made thy widows: many an heir
+	Of these fair edifices 'fore my wars
+	Have I heard groan and drop: then know me not,
+	Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones
+	In puny battle slay me.
+
+	[Enter a Citizen]
+
+		  Save you, sir.
+
+Citizen	And you.
+
+CORIOLANUS	       Direct me, if it be your will,
+	Where great Aufidius lies: is he in Antium?
+
+Citizen	He is, and feasts the nobles of the state
+	At his house this night.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Which is his house, beseech you?
+
+Citizen	This, here before you.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Thank you, sir: farewell.
+
+	[Exit Citizen]
+
+	O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn,
+	Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart,
+	Whose house, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise,
+	Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love
+	Unseparable, shall within this hour,
+	On a dissension of a doit, break out
+	To bitterest enmity: so, fellest foes,
+	Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep,
+	To take the one the other, by some chance,
+	Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends
+	And interjoin their issues. So with me:
+	My birth-place hate I, and my love's upon
+	This enemy town. I'll enter: if he slay me,
+	He does fair justice; if he give me way,
+	I'll do his country service.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The same. A hall in Aufidius's house.
+
+
+	[Music within. Enter a Servingman]
+
+First Servingman	Wine, wine, wine! What service
+	is here! I think our fellows are asleep.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter a second Servingman]
+
+Second Servingman	Where's Cotus? my master calls
+	for him. Cotus!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter CORIOLANUS]
+
+CORIOLANUS	A goodly house: the feast smells well; but I
+	Appear not like a guest.
+
+	[Re-enter the first Servingman]
+
+First Servingman	What would you have, friend? whence are you?
+	Here's no place for you: pray, go to the door.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CORIOLANUS	I have deserved no better entertainment,
+	In being Coriolanus.
+
+	[Re-enter second Servingman]
+
+Second Servingman	Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his
+	head; that he gives entrance to such companions?
+	Pray, get you out.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Away!
+
+Second Servingman	Away! get you away.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Now thou'rt troublesome.
+
+Second Servingman	Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon.
+
+	[Enter a third Servingman. The first meets him]
+
+Third Servingman	What fellow's this?
+
+First Servingman	A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him
+	out of the house: prithee, call my master to him.
+
+	[Retires]
+
+Third Servingman	What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid
+	the house.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth.
+
+Third Servingman	What are you?
+
+CORIOLANUS	A gentleman.
+
+Third Servingman	A marvellous poor one.
+
+CORIOLANUS	True, so I am.
+
+Third Servingman	Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other
+	station; here's no place for you; pray you, avoid: come.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Follow your function, go, and batten on cold bits.
+
+	[Pushes him away]
+
+Third Servingman	What, you will not? Prithee, tell my master what a
+	strange guest he has here.
+
+Second Servingman	And I shall.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Third Servingman	Where dwellest thou?
+
+CORIOLANUS	Under the canopy.
+
+Third Servingman	Under the canopy!
+
+CORIOLANUS	Ay.
+
+Third Servingman	Where's that?
+
+CORIOLANUS	I' the city of kites and crows.
+
+Third Servingman	I' the city of kites and crows! What an ass it is!
+	Then thou dwellest with daws too?
+
+CORIOLANUS	No, I serve not thy master.
+
+Third Servingman	How, sir! do you meddle with my master?
+
+CORIOLANUS	Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy
+	mistress. Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy
+	trencher, hence!
+
+	[Beats him away. Exit third Servingman]
+
+	[Enter AUFIDIUS with the second Servingman]
+
+AUFIDIUS	Where is this fellow?
+
+Second Servingman	Here, sir: I'ld have beaten him like a dog, but for
+	disturbing the lords within.
+
+	[Retires]
+
+AUFIDIUS	Whence comest thou? what wouldst thou? thy name?
+	Why speak'st not? speak, man: what's thy name?
+
+CORIOLANUS	If, Tullus,
+
+	[Unmuffling]
+
+	Not yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not
+	Think me for the man I am, necessity
+	Commands me name myself.
+
+AUFIDIUS	What is thy name?
+
+CORIOLANUS	A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears,
+	And harsh in sound to thine.
+
+AUFIDIUS	Say, what's thy name?
+	Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face
+	Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn.
+	Thou show'st a noble vessel: what's thy name?
+
+CORIOLANUS	Prepare thy brow to frown: know'st
+	thou me yet?
+
+AUFIDIUS	I know thee not: thy name?
+
+CORIOLANUS	My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done
+	To thee particularly and to all the Volsces
+	Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may
+	My surname, Coriolanus: the painful service,
+	The extreme dangers and the drops of blood
+	Shed for my thankless country are requited
+	But with that surname; a good memory,
+	And witness of the malice and displeasure
+	Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name remains;
+	The cruelty and envy of the people,
+	Permitted by our dastard nobles, who
+	Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest;
+	And suffer'd me by the voice of slaves to be
+	Whoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity
+	Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope--
+	Mistake me not--to save my life, for if
+	I had fear'd death, of all the men i' the world
+	I would have 'voided thee, but in mere spite,
+	To be full quit of those my banishers,
+	Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast
+	A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge
+	Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims
+	Of shame seen through thy country, speed
+	thee straight,
+	And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it
+	That my revengeful services may prove
+	As benefits to thee, for I will fight
+	Against my canker'd country with the spleen
+	Of all the under fiends. But if so be
+	Thou darest not this and that to prove more fortunes
+	Thou'rt tired, then, in a word, I also am
+	Longer to live most weary, and present
+	My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice;
+	Which not to cut would show thee but a fool,
+	Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate,
+	Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast,
+	And cannot live but to thy shame, unless
+	It be to do thee service.
+
+AUFIDIUS	O Marcius, Marcius!
+	Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart
+	A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter
+	Should from yond cloud speak divine things,
+	And say 'Tis true,' I'ld not believe them more
+	Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine
+	Mine arms about that body, where against
+	My grained ash an hundred times hath broke
+	And scarr'd the moon with splinters: here I clip
+	The anvil of my sword, and do contest
+	As hotly and as nobly with thy love
+	As ever in ambitious strength I did
+	Contend against thy valour. Know thou first,
+	I loved the maid I married; never man
+	Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here,
+	Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart
+	Than when I first my wedded mistress saw
+	Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee,
+	We have a power on foot; and I had purpose
+	Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn,
+	Or lose mine arm fort: thou hast beat me out
+	Twelve several times, and I have nightly since
+	Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me;
+	We have been down together in my sleep,
+	Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat,
+	And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius,
+	Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that
+	Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all
+	From twelve to seventy, and pouring war
+	Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,
+	Like a bold flood o'er-bear. O, come, go in,
+	And take our friendly senators by the hands;
+	Who now are here, taking their leaves of me,
+	Who am prepared against your territories,
+	Though not for Rome itself.
+
+CORIOLANUS	You bless me, gods!
+
+AUFIDIUS	Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have
+	The leading of thine own revenges, take
+	The one half of my commission; and set down--
+	As best thou art experienced, since thou know'st
+	Thy country's strength and weakness,--thine own ways;
+	Whether to knock against the gates of Rome,
+	Or rudely visit them in parts remote,
+	To fright them, ere destroy. But come in:
+	Let me commend thee first to those that shall
+	Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes!
+	And more a friend than e'er an enemy;
+	Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand: most welcome!
+
+	[Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. The two
+	Servingmen come forward]
+
+First Servingman	Here's a strange alteration!
+
+Second Servingman	By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with
+	a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a
+	false report of him.
+
+First Servingman	What an arm he has! he turned me about with his
+	finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.
+
+Second Servingman	Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in
+	him: he had, sir, a kind of face, methought,--I
+	cannot tell how to term it.
+
+First Servingman	He had so; looking as it were--would I were hanged,
+	but I thought there was more in him than I could think.
+
+Second Servingman	So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply the rarest
+	man i' the world.
+
+First Servingman	I think he is: but a greater soldier than he you wot on.
+
+Second Servingman	Who, my master?
+
+First Servingman	Nay, it's no matter for that.
+
+Second Servingman	Worth six on him.
+
+First Servingman	Nay, not so neither: but I take him to be the
+	greater soldier.
+
+Second Servingman	Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that:
+	for the defence of a town, our general is excellent.
+
+First Servingman	Ay, and for an assault too.
+
+	[Re-enter third Servingman]
+
+Third Servingman	O slaves, I can tell you news,-- news, you rascals!
+
+
+First Servingman	|
+	|  What, what, what? let's partake.
+Second Servingman	|
+
+
+Third Servingman	I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as
+	lieve be a condemned man.
+
+
+First Servingman	|
+	|  Wherefore? wherefore?
+Second Servingman	|
+
+
+Third Servingman	Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general,
+	Caius Marcius.
+
+First Servingman	Why do you say 'thwack our general '?
+
+Third Servingman	I do not say 'thwack our general;' but he was always
+	good enough for him.
+
+Second Servingman	Come, we are fellows and friends: he was ever too
+	hard for him; I have heard him say so himself.
+
+First Servingman	He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth
+	on't: before Corioli he scotched him and notched
+	him like a carbon ado.
+
+Second Servingman	An he had been cannibally given, he might have
+	broiled and eaten him too.
+
+First Servingman	But, more of thy news?
+
+Third Servingman	Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were son
+	and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' the table; no
+	question asked him by any of the senators, but they
+	stand bald before him: our general himself makes a
+	mistress of him: sanctifies himself with's hand and
+	turns up the white o' the eye to his discourse. But
+	the bottom of the news is that our general is cut i'
+	the middle and but one half of what he was
+	yesterday; for the other has half, by the entreaty
+	and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says,
+	and sowl the porter of Rome gates by the ears: he
+	will mow all down before him, and leave his passage polled.
+
+Second Servingman	And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine.
+
+Third Servingman	Do't! he will do't; for, look you, sir, he has as
+	many friends as enemies; which friends, sir, as it
+	were, durst not, look you, sir, show themselves, as
+	we term it, his friends whilst he's in directitude.
+
+First Servingman	Directitude! what's that?
+
+Third Servingman	But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again,
+	and the man in blood, they will out of their
+	burrows, like conies after rain, and revel all with
+	him.
+
+First Servingman	But when goes this forward?
+
+Third Servingman	To-morrow; to-day; presently; you shall have the
+	drum struck up this afternoon: 'tis, as it were, a
+	parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they
+	wipe their lips.
+
+Second Servingman	Why, then we shall have a stirring world again.
+	This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase
+	tailors, and breed ballad-makers.
+
+First Servingman	Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as
+	day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and
+	full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy;
+	mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more
+	bastard children than war's a destroyer of men.
+
+Second Servingman	'Tis so: and as war, in some sort, may be said to
+	be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a
+	great maker of cuckolds.
+
+First Servingman	Ay, and it makes men hate one another.
+
+Third Servingman	Reason; because they then less need one another.
+	The wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap
+	as Volscians. They are rising, they are rising.
+
+All	In, in, in, in!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Rome. A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS]
+
+SICINIUS	We hear not of him, neither need we fear him;
+	His remedies are tame i' the present peace
+	And quietness of the people, which before
+	Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends
+	Blush that the world goes well, who rather had,
+	Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold
+	Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see
+	Our tradesmen with in their shops and going
+	About their functions friendly.
+
+BRUTUS	We stood to't in good time.
+
+	[Enter MENENIUS]
+
+		      Is this Menenius?
+
+SICINIUS	'Tis he,'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late.
+
+Both Tribunes	Hail sir!
+
+MENENIUS	        Hail to you both!
+
+SICINIUS	Your Coriolanus
+	Is not much miss'd, but with his friends:
+	The commonwealth doth stand, and so would do,
+	Were he more angry at it.
+
+MENENIUS	All's well; and might have been much better, if
+	He could have temporized.
+
+SICINIUS	Where is he, hear you?
+
+MENENIUS	Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife
+	Hear nothing from him.
+
+	[Enter three or four Citizens]
+
+Citizens	The gods preserve you both!
+
+SICINIUS	God-den, our neighbours.
+
+BRUTUS	God-den to you all, god-den to you all.
+
+First Citizen	Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees,
+	Are bound to pray for you both.
+
+SICINIUS	Live, and thrive!
+
+BRUTUS	Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish'd Coriolanus
+	Had loved you as we did.
+
+Citizens	Now the gods keep you!
+
+Both Tribunes	Farewell, farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt Citizens]
+
+SICINIUS	This is a happier and more comely time
+	Than when these fellows ran about the streets,
+	Crying confusion.
+
+BRUTUS	                  Caius Marcius was
+	A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent,
+	O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking,
+	Self-loving,--
+
+SICINIUS	                  And affecting one sole throne,
+	Without assistance.
+
+MENENIUS	I think not so.
+
+SICINIUS	We should by this, to all our lamentation,
+	If he had gone forth consul, found it so.
+
+BRUTUS	The gods have well prevented it, and Rome
+	Sits safe and still without him.
+
+	[Enter an AEdile]
+
+AEdile	Worthy tribunes,
+	There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,
+	Reports, the Volsces with two several powers
+	Are enter'd in the Roman territories,
+	And with the deepest malice of the war
+	Destroy what lies before 'em.
+
+MENENIUS	'Tis Aufidius,
+	Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment,
+	Thrusts forth his horns again into the world;
+	Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome,
+	And durst not once peep out.
+
+SICINIUS	Come, what talk you
+	Of Marcius?
+
+BRUTUS	Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be
+	The Volsces dare break with us.
+
+MENENIUS	Cannot be!
+	We have record that very well it can,
+	And three examples of the like have been
+	Within my age. But reason with the fellow,
+	Before you punish him, where he heard this,
+	Lest you shall chance to whip your information
+	And beat the messenger who bids beware
+	Of what is to be dreaded.
+
+SICINIUS	Tell not me:
+	I know this cannot be.
+
+BRUTUS	Not possible.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	The nobles in great earnestness are going
+	All to the senate-house: some news is come
+	That turns their countenances.
+
+SICINIUS	'Tis this slave;--
+	Go whip him, 'fore the people's eyes:--his raising;
+	Nothing but his report.
+
+Messenger	Yes, worthy sir,
+	The slave's report is seconded; and more,
+	More fearful, is deliver'd.
+
+SICINIUS	What more fearful?
+
+Messenger	It is spoke freely out of many mouths--
+	How probable I do not know--that Marcius,
+	Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome,
+	And vows revenge as spacious as between
+	The young'st and oldest thing.
+
+SICINIUS	This is most likely!
+
+BRUTUS	Raised only, that the weaker sort may wish
+	Good Marcius home again.
+
+SICINIUS	The very trick on't.
+
+MENENIUS	This is unlikely:
+	He and Aufidius can no more atone
+	Than violentest contrariety.
+
+	[Enter a second Messenger]
+
+Second Messenger	You are sent for to the senate:
+	A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius
+	Associated with Aufidius, rages
+	Upon our territories; and have already
+	O'erborne their way, consumed with fire, and took
+	What lay before them.
+
+	[Enter COMINIUS]
+
+COMINIUS	O, you have made good work!
+
+MENENIUS	What news? what news?
+
+COMINIUS	You have holp to ravish your own daughters and
+	To melt the city leads upon your pates,
+	To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses,--
+
+MENENIUS	What's the news? what's the news?
+
+COMINIUS	Your temples burned in their cement, and
+	Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined
+	Into an auger's bore.
+
+MENENIUS	Pray now, your news?
+	You have made fair work, I fear me.--Pray, your news?--
+	If Marcius should be join'd with Volscians,--
+
+COMINIUS	If!
+	He is their god: he leads them like a thing
+	Made by some other deity than nature,
+	That shapes man better; and they follow him,
+	Against us brats, with no less confidence
+	Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,
+	Or butchers killing flies.
+
+MENENIUS	You have made good work,
+	You and your apron-men; you that stood so up much
+	on the voice of occupation and
+	The breath of garlic-eaters!
+
+COMINIUS	He will shake
+	Your Rome about your ears.
+
+MENENIUS	As Hercules
+	Did shake down mellow fruit.
+	You have made fair work!
+
+BRUTUS	But is this true, sir?
+
+COMINIUS	Ay; and you'll look pale
+	Before you find it other. All the regions
+	Do smilingly revolt; and who resist
+	Are mock'd for valiant ignorance,
+	And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him?
+	Your enemies and his find something in him.
+
+MENENIUS	We are all undone, unless
+	The noble man have mercy.
+
+COMINIUS	Who shall ask it?
+	The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people
+	Deserve such pity of him as the wolf
+	Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they
+	Should say 'Be good to Rome,' they charged him even
+	As those should do that had deserved his hate,
+	And therein show'd like enemies.
+
+MENENIUS	'Tis true:
+	If he were putting to my house the brand
+	That should consume it, I have not the face
+	To say 'Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair hands,
+	You and your crafts! you have crafted fair!
+
+COMINIUS	You have brought
+	A trembling upon Rome, such as was never
+	So incapable of help.
+
+Both Tribunes	Say not we brought it.
+
+MENENIUS	How! Was it we? we loved him but, like beasts
+	And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters,
+	Who did hoot him out o' the city.
+
+COMINIUS	But I fear
+	They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,
+	The second name of men, obeys his points
+	As if he were his officer: desperation
+	Is all the policy, strength and defence,
+	That Rome can make against them.
+
+	[Enter a troop of Citizens]
+
+MENENIUS	Here come the clusters.
+	And is Aufidius with him? You are they
+	That made the air unwholesome, when you cast
+	Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at
+	Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming;
+	And not a hair upon a soldier's head
+	Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs
+	As you threw caps up will he tumble down,
+	And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter;
+	if he could burn us all into one coal,
+	We have deserved it.
+
+Citizens	Faith, we hear fearful news.
+
+First Citizen	For mine own part,
+	When I said, banish him, I said 'twas pity.
+
+Second Citizen	And so did I.
+
+Third Citizen	And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very
+	many of us: that we did, we did for the best; and
+	though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet
+	it was against our will.
+
+COMINIUS	Ye re goodly things, you voices!
+
+MENENIUS	You have made
+	Good work, you and your cry! Shall's to the Capitol?
+
+COMINIUS	O, ay, what else?
+
+	[Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS]
+
+SICINIUS	Go, masters, get you home; be not dismay'd:
+	These are a side that would be glad to have
+	This true which they so seem to fear. Go home,
+	And show no sign of fear.
+
+First Citizen	The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home.
+	I ever said we were i' the wrong when we banished
+	him.
+
+Second Citizen	So did we all. But, come, let's home.
+
+	[Exeunt Citizens]
+
+BRUTUS	I do not like this news.
+
+SICINIUS	Nor I.
+
+BRUTUS	Let's to the Capitol. Would half my wealth
+	Would buy this for a lie!
+
+SICINIUS	Pray, let us go.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	A camp, at a small distance from Rome.
+
+
+	[Enter AUFIDIUS and his Lieutenant]
+
+AUFIDIUS	Do they still fly to the Roman?
+
+Lieutenant	I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but
+	Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat,
+	Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;
+	And you are darken'd in this action, sir,
+	Even by your own.
+
+AUFIDIUS	                  I cannot help it now,
+	Unless, by using means, I lame the foot
+	Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier,
+	Even to my person, than I thought he would
+	When first I did embrace him: yet his nature
+	In that's no changeling; and I must excuse
+	What cannot be amended.
+
+Lieutenant	Yet I wish, sir,--
+	I mean for your particular,--you had not
+	Join'd in commission with him; but either
+	Had borne the action of yourself, or else
+	To him had left it solely.
+
+AUFIDIUS	I understand thee well; and be thou sure,
+	when he shall come to his account, he knows not
+	What I can urge against him. Although it seems,
+	And so he thinks, and is no less apparent
+	To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly.
+	And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state,
+	Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon
+	As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone
+	That which shall break his neck or hazard mine,
+	Whene'er we come to our account.
+
+Lieutenant	Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome?
+
+AUFIDIUS	All places yield to him ere he sits down;
+	And the nobility of Rome are his:
+	The senators and patricians love him too:
+	The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people
+	Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty
+	To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome
+	As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it
+	By sovereignty of nature. First he was
+	A noble servant to them; but he could not
+	Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride,
+	Which out of daily fortune ever taints
+	The happy man; whether defect of judgment,
+	To fail in the disposing of those chances
+	Which he was lord of; or whether nature,
+	Not to be other than one thing, not moving
+	From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace
+	Even with the same austerity and garb
+	As he controll'd the war; but one of these--
+	As he hath spices of them all, not all,
+	For I dare so far free him--made him fear'd,
+	So hated, and so banish'd: but he has a merit,
+	To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues
+	Lie in the interpretation of the time:
+	And power, unto itself most commendable,
+	Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair
+	To extol what it hath done.
+	One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail;
+	Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail.
+	Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine,
+	Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rome. A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS,
+	and others]
+
+MENENIUS	No, I'll not go: you hear what he hath said
+	Which was sometime his general; who loved him
+	In a most dear particular. He call'd me father:
+	But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him;
+	A mile before his tent fall down, and knee
+	The way into his mercy: nay, if he coy'd
+	To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.
+
+COMINIUS	He would not seem to know me.
+
+MENENIUS	Do you hear?
+
+COMINIUS	Yet one time he did call me by my name:
+	I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops
+	That we have bled together. Coriolanus
+	He would not answer to: forbad all names;
+	He was a kind of nothing, titleless,
+	Till he had forged himself a name o' the fire
+	Of burning Rome.
+
+MENENIUS	Why, so: you have made good work!
+	A pair of tribunes that have rack'd for Rome,
+	To make coals cheap,--a noble memory!
+
+COMINIUS	I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon
+	When it was less expected: he replied,
+	It was a bare petition of a state
+	To one whom they had punish'd.
+
+MENENIUS	Very well:
+	Could he say less?
+
+COMINIUS	I offer'd to awaken his regard
+	For's private friends: his answer to me was,
+	He could not stay to pick them in a pile
+	Of noisome musty chaff: he said 'twas folly,
+	For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt,
+	And still to nose the offence.
+
+MENENIUS	For one poor grain or two!
+	I am one of those; his mother, wife, his child,
+	And this brave fellow too, we are the grains:
+	You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt
+	Above the moon: we must be burnt for you.
+
+SICINIUS	Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid
+	In this so never-needed help, yet do not
+	Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you
+	Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue,
+	More than the instant army we can make,
+	Might stop our countryman.
+
+MENENIUS	No, I'll not meddle.
+
+SICINIUS	Pray you, go to him.
+
+MENENIUS	What should I do?
+
+BRUTUS	Only make trial what your love can do
+	For Rome, towards Marcius.
+
+MENENIUS	Well, and say that Marcius
+	Return me, as Cominius is return'd,
+	Unheard; what then?
+	But as a discontented friend, grief-shot
+	With his unkindness? say't be so?
+
+SICINIUS	Yet your good will
+	must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure
+	As you intended well.
+
+MENENIUS	I'll undertake 't:
+	I think he'll hear me. Yet, to bite his lip
+	And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me.
+	He was not taken well; he had not dined:
+	The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then
+	We pout upon the morning, are unapt
+	To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd
+	These and these conveyances of our blood
+	With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
+	Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore I'll watch him
+	Till he be dieted to my request,
+	And then I'll set upon him.
+
+BRUTUS	You know the very road into his kindness,
+	And cannot lose your way.
+
+MENENIUS	Good faith, I'll prove him,
+	Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge
+	Of my success.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+COMINIUS	                  He'll never hear him.
+
+SICINIUS	Not?
+
+COMINIUS	I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye
+	Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury
+	The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him;
+	'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise;' dismiss'd me
+	Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do,
+	He sent in writing after me; what he would not,
+	Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions:
+	So that all hope is vain.
+	Unless his noble mother, and his wife;
+	Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him
+	For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence,
+	And with our fair entreaties haste them on.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Entrance of the Volscian camp before Rome.
+	Two Sentinels on guard.
+
+
+	[Enter to them, MENENIUS]
+
+First Senator	Stay: whence are you?
+
+Second Senator	Stand, and go back.
+
+MENENIUS	You guard like men; 'tis well: but, by your leave,
+	I am an officer of state, and come
+	To speak with Coriolanus.
+
+First Senator	From whence?
+
+MENENIUS	From Rome.
+
+First Senator	You may not pass, you must return: our general
+	Will no more hear from thence.
+
+Second Senator	You'll see your Rome embraced with fire before
+	You'll speak with Coriolanus.
+
+MENENIUS	Good my friends,
+	If you have heard your general talk of Rome,
+	And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks,
+	My name hath touch'd your ears it is Menenius.
+
+First Senator	Be it so; go back: the virtue of your name
+	Is not here passable.
+
+MENENIUS	I tell thee, fellow,
+	The general is my lover: I have been
+	The book of his good acts, whence men have read
+	His name unparallel'd, haply amplified;
+	For I have ever verified my friends,
+	Of whom he's chief, with all the size that verity
+	Would without lapsing suffer: nay, sometimes,
+	Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground,
+	I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise
+	Have almost stamp'd the leasing: therefore, fellow,
+	I must have leave to pass.
+
+First Senator	Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his
+	behalf as you have uttered words in your own, you
+	should not pass here; no, though it were as virtuous
+	to lie as to live chastely. Therefore, go back.
+
+MENENIUS	Prithee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius,
+	always factionary on the party of your general.
+
+Second Senator	Howsoever you have been his liar, as you say you
+	have, I am one that, telling true under him, must
+	say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back.
+
+MENENIUS	Has he dined, canst thou tell? for I would not
+	speak with him till after dinner.
+
+First Senator	You are a Roman, are you?
+
+MENENIUS	I am, as thy general is.
+
+First Senator	Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you,
+	when you have pushed out your gates the very
+	defender of them, and, in a violent popular
+	ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to
+	front his revenges with the easy groans of old
+	women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with
+	the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant as
+	you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the
+	intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with
+	such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived;
+	therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your
+	execution: you are condemned, our general has sworn
+	you out of reprieve and pardon.
+
+MENENIUS	Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would
+	use me with estimation.
+
+Second Senator	Come, my captain knows you not.
+
+MENENIUS	I mean, thy general.
+
+First Senator	My general cares not for you. Back, I say, go; lest
+	I let forth your half-pint of blood; back,--that's
+	the utmost of your having: back.
+
+MENENIUS	Nay, but, fellow, fellow,--
+
+	[Enter CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS]
+
+CORIOLANUS	What's the matter?
+
+MENENIUS	Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you:
+	You shall know now that I am in estimation; you shall
+	perceive that a Jack guardant cannot office me from
+	my son Coriolanus: guess, but by my entertainment
+	with him, if thou standest not i' the state of
+	hanging, or of some death more long in
+	spectatorship, and crueller in suffering; behold now
+	presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee.
+
+	[To CORIOLANUS]
+
+	The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy
+	particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than
+	thy old father Menenius does! O my son, my son!
+	thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, here's
+	water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to
+	thee; but being assured none but myself could move
+	thee, I have been blown out of your gates with
+	sighs; and conjure thee to pardon Rome, and thy
+	petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage thy
+	wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet
+	here,--this, who, like a block, hath denied my
+	access to thee.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Away!
+
+MENENIUS	How! away!
+
+CORIOLANUS	Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs
+	Are servanted to others: though I owe
+	My revenge properly, my remission lies
+	In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar,
+	Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather
+	Than pity note how much. Therefore, be gone.
+	Mine ears against your suits are stronger than
+	Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee,
+	Take this along; I writ it for thy sake
+
+	[Gives a letter]
+
+	And would have rent it. Another word, Menenius,
+	I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius,
+	Was my beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'st!
+
+AUFIDIUS	You keep a constant temper.
+
+	[Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS]
+
+First Senator	Now, sir, is your name Menenius?
+
+Second Senator	'Tis a spell, you see, of much power: you know the
+	way home again.
+
+First Senator	Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your
+	greatness back?
+
+Second Senator	What cause, do you think, I have to swoon?
+
+MENENIUS	I neither care for the world nor your general: for
+	such things as you, I can scarce think there's any,
+	ye're so slight. He that hath a will to die by
+	himself fears it not from another: let your general
+	do his worst. For you, be that you are, long; and
+	your misery increase with your age! I say to you,
+	as I was said to, Away!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+First Senator	A noble fellow, I warrant him.
+
+Second Senator	The worthy fellow is our general: he's the rock, the
+	oak not to be wind-shaken.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The tent of Coriolanus.
+
+
+	[Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others]
+
+CORIOLANUS	We will before the walls of Rome tomorrow
+	Set down our host. My partner in this action,
+	You must report to the Volscian lords, how plainly
+	I have borne this business.
+
+AUFIDIUS	Only their ends
+	You have respected; stopp'd your ears against
+	The general suit of Rome; never admitted
+	A private whisper, no, not with such friends
+	That thought them sure of you.
+
+CORIOLANUS	This last old man,
+	Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome,
+	Loved me above the measure of a father;
+	Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge
+	Was to send him; for whose old love I have,
+	Though I show'd sourly to him, once more offer'd
+	The first conditions, which they did refuse
+	And cannot now accept; to grace him only
+	That thought he could do more, a very little
+	I have yielded to: fresh embassies and suits,
+	Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter
+	Will I lend ear to. Ha! what shout is this?
+
+	[Shout within]
+
+	Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow
+	In the same time 'tis made? I will not.
+
+	[Enter in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA,
+	leading young MARCIUS, VALERIA, and Attendants]
+
+	My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould
+	Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand
+	The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection!
+	All bond and privilege of nature, break!
+	Let it be virtuous to be obstinate.
+	What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes,
+	Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not
+	Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows;
+	As if Olympus to a molehill should
+	In supplication nod: and my young boy
+	Hath an aspect of intercession, which
+	Great nature cries 'Deny not.' let the Volsces
+	Plough Rome and harrow Italy: I'll never
+	Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand,
+	As if a man were author of himself
+	And knew no other kin.
+
+VIRGILIA	My lord and husband!
+
+CORIOLANUS	These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.
+
+VIRGILIA	The sorrow that delivers us thus changed
+	Makes you think so.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Like a dull actor now,
+	I have forgot my part, and I am out,
+	Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,
+	Forgive my tyranny; but do not say
+	For that 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss
+	Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
+	Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss
+	I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip
+	Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate,
+	And the most noble mother of the world
+	Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i' the earth;
+
+	[Kneels]
+
+	Of thy deep duty more impression show
+	Than that of common sons.
+
+VOLUMNIA	O, stand up blest!
+	Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint,
+	I kneel before thee; and unproperly
+	Show duty, as mistaken all this while
+	Between the child and parent.
+
+	[Kneels]
+
+CORIOLANUS	What is this?
+	Your knees to me? to your corrected son?
+	Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
+	Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds
+	Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun;
+	Murdering impossibility, to make
+	What cannot be, slight work.
+
+VOLUMNIA	Thou art my warrior;
+	I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?
+
+CORIOLANUS	The noble sister of Publicola,
+	The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle
+	That's curdied by the frost from purest snow
+	And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria!
+
+VOLUMNIA	This is a poor epitome of yours,
+	Which by the interpretation of full time
+	May show like all yourself.
+
+CORIOLANUS	The god of soldiers,
+	With the consent of supreme Jove, inform
+	Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove
+	To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars
+	Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,
+	And saving those that eye thee!
+
+VOLUMNIA	Your knee, sirrah.
+
+CORIOLANUS	That's my brave boy!
+
+VOLUMNIA	Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself,
+	Are suitors to you.
+
+CORIOLANUS	I beseech you, peace:
+	Or, if you'ld ask, remember this before:
+	The thing I have forsworn to grant may never
+	Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
+	Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate
+	Again with Rome's mechanics: tell me not
+	Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not
+	To ally my rages and revenges with
+	Your colder reasons.
+
+VOLUMNIA	O, no more, no more!
+	You have said you will not grant us any thing;
+	For we have nothing else to ask, but that
+	Which you deny already: yet we will ask;
+	That, if you fail in our request, the blame
+	May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll
+	Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request?
+
+VOLUMNIA	Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment
+	And state of bodies would bewray what life
+	We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
+	How more unfortunate than all living women
+	Are we come hither: since that thy sight,
+	which should
+	Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance
+	with comforts,
+	Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow;
+	Making the mother, wife and child to see
+	The son, the husband and the father tearing
+	His country's bowels out. And to poor we
+	Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
+	Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
+	That all but we enjoy; for how can we,
+	Alas, how can we for our country pray.
+	Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,
+	Whereto we are bound? alack, or we must lose
+	The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person,
+	Our comfort in the country. We must find
+	An evident calamity, though we had
+	Our wish, which side should win: for either thou
+	Must, as a foreign recreant, be led
+	With manacles thorough our streets, or else
+	triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin,
+	And bear the palm for having bravely shed
+	Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
+	I purpose not to wait on fortune till
+	These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee
+	Rather to show a noble grace to both parts
+	Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
+	March to assault thy country than to tread--
+	Trust to't, thou shalt not--on thy mother's womb,
+	That brought thee to this world.
+
+VIRGILIA	Ay, and mine,
+	That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name
+	Living to time.
+
+Young MARCIUS	A' shall not tread on me;
+	I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
+	Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
+	I have sat too long.
+
+	[Rising]
+
+VOLUMNIA	Nay, go not from us thus.
+	If it were so that our request did tend
+	To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
+	The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us,
+	As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit
+	Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces
+	May say 'This mercy we have show'd;' the Romans,
+	'This we received;' and each in either side
+	Give the all-hail to thee and cry 'Be blest
+	For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son,
+	The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
+	That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
+	Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name,
+	Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
+	Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,
+	But with his last attempt he wiped it out;
+	Destroy'd his country, and his name remains
+	To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son:
+	Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
+	To imitate the graces of the gods;
+	To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air,
+	And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
+	That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
+	Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
+	Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you:
+	He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy:
+	Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
+	Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world
+	More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate
+	Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
+	Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy,
+	When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood,
+	Has cluck'd thee to the wars and safely home,
+	Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust,
+	And spurn me back: but if it be not so,
+	Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee,
+	That thou restrain'st from me the duty which
+	To a mother's part belongs. He turns away:
+	Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
+	To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride
+	Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end;
+	This is the last: so we will home to Rome,
+	And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold 's:
+	This boy, that cannot tell what he would have
+	But kneels and holds up bands for fellowship,
+	Does reason our petition with more strength
+	Than thou hast to deny 't. Come, let us go:
+	This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
+	His wife is in Corioli and his child
+	Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch:
+	I am hush'd until our city be a-fire,
+	And then I'll speak a little.
+
+	[He holds her by the hand, silent]
+
+CORIOLANUS	O mother, mother!
+	What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope,
+	The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
+	They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O!
+	You have won a happy victory to Rome;
+	But, for your son,--believe it, O, believe it,
+	Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
+	If not most mortal to him. But, let it come.
+	Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
+	I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,
+	Were you in my stead, would you have heard
+	A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?
+
+AUFIDIUS	I was moved withal.
+
+CORIOLANUS	I dare be sworn you were:
+	And, sir, it is no little thing to make
+	Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
+	What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part,
+	I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you,
+	Stand to me in this cause. O mother! wife!
+
+AUFIDIUS	[Aside]  I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and
+	thy honour
+	At difference in thee: out of that I'll work
+	Myself a former fortune.
+
+	[The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS]
+
+CORIOLANUS	Ay, by and by;
+
+	[To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, &c]
+
+	But we will drink together; and you shall bear
+	A better witness back than words, which we,
+	On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd.
+	Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve
+	To have a temple built you: all the swords
+	In Italy, and her confederate arms,
+	Could not have made this peace.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Rome. A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS]
+
+MENENIUS	See you yond coign o' the Capitol, yond
+	corner-stone?
+
+SICINIUS	Why, what of that?
+
+MENENIUS	If it be possible for you to displace it with your
+	little finger, there is some hope the ladies of
+	Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him.
+	But I say there is no hope in't: our throats are
+	sentenced and stay upon execution.
+
+SICINIUS	Is't possible that so short a time can alter the
+	condition of a man!
+
+MENENIUS	There is differency between a grub and a butterfly;
+	yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown
+	from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a
+	creeping thing.
+
+SICINIUS	He loved his mother dearly.
+
+MENENIUS	So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother
+	now than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness
+	of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he
+	moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before
+	his treading: he is able to pierce a corslet with
+	his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a
+	battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for
+	Alexander. What he bids be done is finished with
+	his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity
+	and a heaven to throne in.
+
+SICINIUS	Yes, mercy, if you report him truly.
+
+MENENIUS	I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his
+	mother shall bring from him: there is no more mercy
+	in him than there is milk in a male tiger; that
+	shall our poor city find: and all this is long of
+	you.
+
+SICINIUS	The gods be good unto us!
+
+MENENIUS	No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto
+	us. When we banished him, we respected not them;
+	and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	Sir, if you'ld save your life, fly to your house:
+	The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune
+	And hale him up and down, all swearing, if
+	The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
+	They'll give him death by inches.
+
+	[Enter a second Messenger]
+
+SICINIUS	What's the news?
+
+Second Messenger	Good news, good news; the ladies have prevail'd,
+	The Volscians are dislodged, and Marcius gone:
+	A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
+	No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.
+
+SICINIUS	Friend,
+	Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?
+
+Second Messenger	As certain as I know the sun is fire:
+	Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it?
+	Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide,
+	As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you!
+
+	[Trumpets; hautboys; drums beat; all together]
+
+	The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries and fifes,
+	Tabours and cymbals and the shouting Romans,
+	Make the sun dance. Hark you!
+
+	[A shout within]
+
+MENENIUS	This is good news:
+	I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
+	Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
+	A city full; of tribunes, such as you,
+	A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-day:
+	This morning for ten thousand of your throats
+	I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!
+
+	[Music still, with shouts]
+
+SICINIUS	First, the gods bless you for your tidings; next,
+	Accept my thankfulness.
+
+Second Messenger	Sir, we have all
+	Great cause to give great thanks.
+
+SICINIUS	They are near the city?
+
+Second Messenger	Almost at point to enter.
+
+SICINIUS	We will meet them,
+	And help the joy.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The same. A street near the gate.
+
+
+	[Enter two Senators with VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA,
+	VALERIA, &c. passing over the stage,
+	followed by Patricians and others]
+
+First Senator	Behold our patroness, the life of Rome!
+	Call all your tribes together, praise the gods,
+	And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them:
+	Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius,
+	Repeal him with the welcome of his mother;
+	Cry 'Welcome, ladies, welcome!'
+
+All	Welcome, ladies, Welcome!
+
+	[A flourish with drums and trumpets. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	CORIOLANUS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Antium. A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants]
+
+AUFIDIUS	Go tell the lords o' the city I am here:
+	Deliver them this paper: having read it,
+	Bid them repair to the market place; where I,
+	Even in theirs and in the commons' ears,
+	Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse
+	The city ports by this hath enter'd and
+	Intends to appear before the people, hoping
+	To purge herself with words: dispatch.
+
+	[Exeunt Attendants]
+
+	[Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS' faction]
+
+	Most welcome!
+
+First Conspirator	How is it with our general?
+
+AUFIDIUS	Even so
+	As with a man by his own alms empoison'd,
+	And with his charity slain.
+
+Second Conspirator	Most noble sir,
+	If you do hold the same intent wherein
+	You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you
+	Of your great danger.
+
+AUFIDIUS	Sir, I cannot tell:
+	We must proceed as we do find the people.
+
+Third Conspirator	The people will remain uncertain whilst
+	'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either
+	Makes the survivor heir of all.
+
+AUFIDIUS	I know it;
+	And my pretext to strike at him admits
+	A good construction. I raised him, and I pawn'd
+	Mine honour for his truth: who being so heighten'd,
+	He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
+	Seducing so my friends; and, to this end,
+	He bow'd his nature, never known before
+	But to be rough, unswayable and free.
+
+Third Conspirator	Sir, his stoutness
+	When he did stand for consul, which he lost
+	By lack of stooping,--
+
+AUFIDIUS	That I would have spoke of:
+	Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
+	Presented to my knife his throat: I took him;
+	Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way
+	In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
+	Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
+	My best and freshest men; served his designments
+	In mine own person; holp to reap the fame
+	Which he did end all his; and took some pride
+	To do myself this wrong: till, at the last,
+	I seem'd his follower, not partner, and
+	He waged me with his countenance, as if
+	I had been mercenary.
+
+First Conspirator	So he did, my lord:
+	The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last,
+	When he had carried Rome and that we look'd
+	For no less spoil than glory,--
+
+AUFIDIUS	There was it:
+	For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.
+	At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
+	As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
+	Of our great action: therefore shall he die,
+	And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!
+
+	[Drums and trumpets sound, with great shouts of
+	the People]
+
+First Conspirator	Your native town you enter'd like a post,
+	And had no welcomes home: but he returns,
+	Splitting the air with noise.
+
+Second Conspirator	And patient fools,
+	Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear
+	With giving him glory.
+
+Third Conspirator	Therefore, at your vantage,
+	Ere he express himself, or move the people
+	With what he would say, let him feel your sword,
+	Which we will second. When he lies along,
+	After your way his tale pronounced shall bury
+	His reasons with his body.
+
+AUFIDIUS	Say no more:
+	Here come the lords.
+
+	[Enter the Lords of the city]
+
+All The Lords	You are most welcome home.
+
+AUFIDIUS	I have not deserved it.
+	But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused
+	What I have written to you?
+
+Lords	We have.
+
+First Lord	And grieve to hear't.
+	What faults he made before the last, I think
+	Might have found easy fines: but there to end
+	Where he was to begin and give away
+	The benefit of our levies, answering us
+	With our own charge, making a treaty where
+	There was a yielding,--this admits no excuse.
+
+AUFIDIUS	He approaches: you shall hear him.
+
+	[Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and
+	colours; commoners being with him]
+
+CORIOLANUS	Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier,
+	No more infected with my country's love
+	Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
+	Under your great command. You are to know
+	That prosperously I have attempted and
+	With bloody passage led your wars even to
+	The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home
+	Do more than counterpoise a full third part
+	The charges of the action. We have made peace
+	With no less honour to the Antiates
+	Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver,
+	Subscribed by the consuls and patricians,
+	Together with the seal o' the senate, what
+	We have compounded on.
+
+AUFIDIUS	Read it not, noble lords;
+	But tell the traitor, in the high'st degree
+	He hath abused your powers.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Traitor! how now!
+
+AUFIDIUS	                  Ay, traitor, Marcius!
+
+CORIOLANUS	Marcius!
+
+AUFIDIUS	Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think
+	I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
+	Coriolanus in Corioli?
+	You lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously
+	He has betray'd your business, and given up,
+	For certain drops of salt, your city Rome,
+	I say 'your city,' to his wife and mother;
+	Breaking his oath and resolution like
+	A twist of rotten silk, never admitting
+	Counsel o' the war, but at his nurse's tears
+	He whined and roar'd away your victory,
+	That pages blush'd at him and men of heart
+	Look'd wondering each at other.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Hear'st thou, Mars?
+
+AUFIDIUS	Name not the god, thou boy of tears!
+
+CORIOLANUS	Ha!
+
+AUFIDIUS	No more.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
+	Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!
+	Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever
+	I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords,
+	Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion--
+	Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him; that
+	Must bear my beating to his grave--shall join
+	To thrust the lie unto him.
+
+First Lord	Peace, both, and hear me speak.
+
+CORIOLANUS	Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads,
+	Stain all your edges on me. Boy! false hound!
+	If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,
+	That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I
+	Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli:
+	Alone I did it. Boy!
+
+AUFIDIUS	Why, noble lords,
+	Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,
+	Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart,
+	'Fore your own eyes and ears?
+
+All Conspirators	Let him die for't.
+
+All The People	'Tear him to pieces.' 'Do it presently.' 'He kill'd
+	my son.' 'My daughter.' 'He killed my cousin
+	Marcus.' 'He killed my father.'
+
+Second Lord	Peace, ho! no outrage: peace!
+	The man is noble and his fame folds-in
+	This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us
+	Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius,
+	And trouble not the peace.
+
+CORIOLANUS	O that I had him,
+	With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
+	To use my lawful sword!
+
+AUFIDIUS	Insolent villain!
+
+All Conspirators	Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!
+
+	[The Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS:
+	AUFIDIUS stands on his body]
+
+Lords	Hold, hold, hold, hold!
+
+AUFIDIUS	My noble masters, hear me speak.
+
+First Lord	O Tullus,--
+
+Second Lord	Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.
+
+Third Lord	Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet;
+	Put up your swords.
+
+AUFIDIUS	My lords, when you shall know--as in this rage,
+	Provoked by him, you cannot--the great danger
+	Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice
+	That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
+	To call me to your senate, I'll deliver
+	Myself your loyal servant, or endure
+	Your heaviest censure.
+
+First Lord	Bear from hence his body;
+	And mourn you for him: let him be regarded
+	As the most noble corse that ever herald
+	Did follow to his urn.
+
+Second Lord	His own impatience
+	Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
+	Let's make the best of it.
+
+AUFIDIUS	My rage is gone;
+	And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up.
+	Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.
+	Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
+	Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
+	Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
+	Which to this hour bewail the injury,
+	Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist.
+
+	[Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLANUS. A dead
+	march sounded]
+	HAMLET
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+CLAUDIUS	king of Denmark. (KING CLAUDIUS:)
+
+HAMLET	son to the late, and nephew to the present king.
+
+POLONIUS	lord chamberlain. (LORD POLONIUS:)
+
+HORATIO	friend to Hamlet.
+
+LAERTES	son to Polonius.
+
+LUCIANUS	nephew to the king.
+
+
+VOLTIMAND	|
+	|
+CORNELIUS	|
+	|
+ROSENCRANTZ	|  courtiers.
+	|
+GUILDENSTERN	|
+	|
+OSRIC	|
+
+
+	A Gentleman, (Gentlemen:)
+
+	A Priest. (First Priest:)
+
+
+MARCELLUS	|
+	|  officers.
+BERNARDO	|
+
+
+FRANCISCO	a soldier.
+
+REYNALDO	servant to Polonius.
+	Players.
+	(First Player:)
+	(Player King:)
+	(Player Queen:)
+
+	Two Clowns, grave-diggers.
+	(First Clown:)
+	(Second Clown:)
+
+FORTINBRAS	prince of Norway. (PRINCE FORTINBRAS:)
+
+	A Captain.
+
+	English Ambassadors. (First Ambassador:)
+
+GERTRUDE	queen of Denmark, and mother to Hamlet.
+	(QUEEN GERTRUDE:)
+
+OPHELIA	daughter to Polonius.
+
+	Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Sailors, Messengers,
+	and other Attendants. (Lord:)
+	(First Sailor:)
+	(Messenger:)
+
+	Ghost of Hamlet's Father. (Ghost:)
+
+
+
+SCENE	Denmark.
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Elsinore. A platform before the castle.
+
+
+	[FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO]
+
+BERNARDO	Who's there?
+
+FRANCISCO	Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.
+
+BERNARDO	Long live the king!
+
+FRANCISCO	Bernardo?
+
+BERNARDO	He.
+
+FRANCISCO	You come most carefully upon your hour.
+
+BERNARDO	'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.
+
+FRANCISCO	For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,
+	And I am sick at heart.
+
+BERNARDO	Have you had quiet guard?
+
+FRANCISCO	Not a mouse stirring.
+
+BERNARDO	Well, good night.
+	If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
+	The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
+
+FRANCISCO	I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who's there?
+
+	[Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS]
+
+HORATIO	Friends to this ground.
+
+MARCELLUS	And liegemen to the Dane.
+
+FRANCISCO	Give you good night.
+
+MARCELLUS	O, farewell, honest soldier:
+	Who hath relieved you?
+
+FRANCISCO	Bernardo has my place.
+	Give you good night.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MARCELLUS	Holla! Bernardo!
+
+BERNARDO	Say,
+	What, is Horatio there?
+
+HORATIO	A piece of him.
+
+BERNARDO	Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.
+
+MARCELLUS	What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?
+
+BERNARDO	I have seen nothing.
+
+MARCELLUS	Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy,
+	And will not let belief take hold of him
+	Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us:
+	Therefore I have entreated him along
+	With us to watch the minutes of this night;
+	That if again this apparition come,
+	He may approve our eyes and speak to it.
+
+HORATIO	Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.
+
+BERNARDO	Sit down awhile;
+	And let us once again assail your ears,
+	That are so fortified against our story
+	What we have two nights seen.
+
+HORATIO	Well, sit we down,
+	And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.
+
+BERNARDO	Last night of all,
+	When yond same star that's westward from the pole
+	Had made his course to illume that part of heaven
+	Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,
+	The bell then beating one,--
+
+	[Enter Ghost]
+
+MARCELLUS	Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!
+
+BERNARDO	In the same figure, like the king that's dead.
+
+MARCELLUS	Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.
+
+BERNARDO	Looks it not like the king?  mark it, Horatio.
+
+HORATIO	Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.
+
+BERNARDO	It would be spoke to.
+
+MARCELLUS	Question it, Horatio.
+
+HORATIO	What art thou that usurp'st this time of night,
+	Together with that fair and warlike form
+	In which the majesty of buried Denmark
+	Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak!
+
+MARCELLUS	It is offended.
+
+BERNARDO	                  See, it stalks away!
+
+HORATIO	Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!
+
+	[Exit Ghost]
+
+MARCELLUS	'Tis gone, and will not answer.
+
+BERNARDO	How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale:
+	Is not this something more than fantasy?
+	What think you on't?
+
+HORATIO	Before my God, I might not this believe
+	Without the sensible and true avouch
+	Of mine own eyes.
+
+MARCELLUS	                  Is it not like the king?
+
+HORATIO	As thou art to thyself:
+	Such was the very armour he had on
+	When he the ambitious Norway combated;
+	So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle,
+	He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
+	'Tis strange.
+
+MARCELLUS	Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,
+	With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
+
+HORATIO	In what particular thought to work I know not;
+	But in the gross and scope of my opinion,
+	This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
+
+MARCELLUS	Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows,
+	Why this same strict and most observant watch
+	So nightly toils the subject of the land,
+	And why such daily cast of brazen cannon,
+	And foreign mart for implements of war;
+	Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task
+	Does not divide the Sunday from the week;
+	What might be toward, that this sweaty haste
+	Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day:
+	Who is't that can inform me?
+
+HORATIO	That can I;
+	At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king,
+	Whose image even but now appear'd to us,
+	Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,
+	Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride,
+	Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet--
+	For so this side of our known world esteem'd him--
+	Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal'd compact,
+	Well ratified by law and heraldry,
+	Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands
+	Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror:
+	Against the which, a moiety competent
+	Was gaged by our king; which had return'd
+	To the inheritance of Fortinbras,
+	Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant,
+	And carriage of the article design'd,
+	His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,
+	Of unimproved mettle hot and full,
+	Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there
+	Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes,
+	For food and diet, to some enterprise
+	That hath a stomach in't; which is no other--
+	As it doth well appear unto our state--
+	But to recover of us, by strong hand
+	And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands
+	So by his father lost: and this, I take it,
+	Is the main motive of our preparations,
+	The source of this our watch and the chief head
+	Of this post-haste and romage in the land.
+
+BERNARDO	I think it be no other but e'en so:
+	Well may it sort that this portentous figure
+	Comes armed through our watch; so like the king
+	That was and is the question of these wars.
+
+HORATIO	A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
+	In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
+	A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
+	The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead
+	Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets:
+	As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,
+	Disasters in the sun; and the moist star
+	Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands
+	Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse:
+	And even the like precurse of fierce events,
+	As harbingers preceding still the fates
+	And prologue to the omen coming on,
+	Have heaven and earth together demonstrated
+	Unto our climatures and countrymen.--
+	But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again!
+
+	[Re-enter Ghost]
+
+	I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion!
+	If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
+	Speak to me:
+	If there be any good thing to be done,
+	That may to thee do ease and grace to me,
+	Speak to me:
+
+	[Cock crows]
+
+	If thou art privy to thy country's fate,
+	Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak!
+	Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life
+	Extorted treasure in the womb of earth,
+	For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,
+	Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus.
+
+MARCELLUS	Shall I strike at it with my partisan?
+
+HORATIO	Do, if it will not stand.
+
+BERNARDO	'Tis here!
+
+HORATIO	'Tis here!
+
+MARCELLUS	'Tis gone!
+
+	[Exit Ghost]
+
+	We do it wrong, being so majestical,
+	To offer it the show of violence;
+	For it is, as the air, invulnerable,
+	And our vain blows malicious mockery.
+
+BERNARDO	It was about to speak, when the cock crew.
+
+HORATIO	And then it started like a guilty thing
+	Upon a fearful summons. I have heard,
+	The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
+	Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
+	Awake the god of day; and, at his warning,
+	Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
+	The extravagant and erring spirit hies
+	To his confine: and of the truth herein
+	This present object made probation.
+
+MARCELLUS	It faded on the crowing of the cock.
+	Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
+	Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
+	The bird of dawning singeth all night long:
+	And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;
+	The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
+	No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
+	So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
+
+HORATIO	So have I heard and do in part believe it.
+	But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,
+	Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill:
+	Break we our watch up; and by my advice,
+	Let us impart what we have seen to-night
+	Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life,
+	This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
+	Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
+	As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?
+
+MARCELLUS	Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know
+	Where we shall find him most conveniently.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A room of state in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, HAMLET,
+	POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords,
+	and Attendants]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death
+	The memory be green, and that it us befitted
+	To bear our hearts in grief and our whole kingdom
+	To be contracted in one brow of woe,
+	Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature
+	That we with wisest sorrow think on him,
+	Together with remembrance of ourselves.
+	Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
+	The imperial jointress to this warlike state,
+	Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,--
+	With an auspicious and a dropping eye,
+	With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,
+	In equal scale weighing delight and dole,--
+	Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd
+	Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
+	With this affair along. For all, our thanks.
+	Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,
+	Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
+	Or thinking by our late dear brother's death
+	Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
+	Colleagued with the dream of his advantage,
+	He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
+	Importing the surrender of those lands
+	Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,
+	To our most valiant brother. So much for him.
+	Now for ourself and for this time of meeting:
+	Thus much the business is: we have here writ
+	To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,--
+	Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
+	Of this his nephew's purpose,--to suppress
+	His further gait herein; in that the levies,
+	The lists and full proportions, are all made
+	Out of his subject: and we here dispatch
+	You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,
+	For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;
+	Giving to you no further personal power
+	To business with the king, more than the scope
+	Of these delated articles allow.
+	Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.
+
+
+CORNELIUS	|
+	|  In that and all things will we show our duty.
+VOLTIMAND	|
+
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS]
+
+	And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?
+	You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes?
+	You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,
+	And loose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes,
+	That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?
+	The head is not more native to the heart,
+	The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
+	Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
+	What wouldst thou have, Laertes?
+
+LAERTES	My dread lord,
+	Your leave and favour to return to France;
+	From whence though willingly I came to Denmark,
+	To show my duty in your coronation,
+	Yet now, I must confess, that duty done,
+	My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France
+	And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave
+	By laboursome petition, and at last
+	Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:
+	I do beseech you, give him leave to go.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,
+	And thy best graces spend it at thy will!
+	But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,--
+
+HAMLET	[Aside]  A little more than kin, and less than kind.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
+
+HAMLET	Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,
+	And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
+	Do not for ever with thy vailed lids
+	Seek for thy noble father in the dust:
+	Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die,
+	Passing through nature to eternity.
+
+HAMLET	Ay, madam, it is common.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	If it be,
+	Why seems it so particular with thee?
+
+HAMLET	Seems, madam! nay it is; I know not 'seems.'
+	'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
+	Nor customary suits of solemn black,
+	Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,
+	No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
+	Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage,
+	Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,
+	That can denote me truly: these indeed seem,
+	For they are actions that a man might play:
+	But I have that within which passeth show;
+	These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,
+	To give these mourning duties to your father:
+	But, you must know, your father lost a father;
+	That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound
+	In filial obligation for some term
+	To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever
+	In obstinate condolement is a course
+	Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief;
+	It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
+	A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,
+	An understanding simple and unschool'd:
+	For what we know must be and is as common
+	As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
+	Why should we in our peevish opposition
+	Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven,
+	A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
+	To reason most absurd: whose common theme
+	Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,
+	From the first corse till he that died to-day,
+	'This must be so.' We pray you, throw to earth
+	This unprevailing woe, and think of us
+	As of a father: for let the world take note,
+	You are the most immediate to our throne;
+	And with no less nobility of love
+	Than that which dearest father bears his son,
+	Do I impart toward you. For your intent
+	In going back to school in Wittenberg,
+	It is most retrograde to our desire:
+	And we beseech you, bend you to remain
+	Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
+	Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet:
+	I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.
+
+HAMLET	I shall in all my best obey you, madam.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply:
+	Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come;
+	This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet
+	Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof,
+	No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,
+	But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,
+	And the king's rouse the heavens all bruit again,
+	Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.
+
+	[Exeunt all but HAMLET]
+
+HAMLET	O, that this too too solid flesh would melt
+	Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
+	Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
+	His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
+	How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
+	Seem to me all the uses of this world!
+	Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
+	That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
+	Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
+	But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:
+	So excellent a king; that was, to this,
+	Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
+	That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
+	Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
+	Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,
+	As if increase of appetite had grown
+	By what it fed on: and yet, within a month--
+	Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!--
+	A little month, or ere those shoes were old
+	With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
+	Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she--
+	O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
+	Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle,
+	My father's brother, but no more like my father
+	Than I to Hercules: within a month:
+	Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
+	Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
+	She married. O, most wicked speed, to post
+	With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
+	It is not nor it cannot come to good:
+	But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.
+
+	[Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO]
+
+HORATIO	Hail to your lordship!
+
+HAMLET	I am glad to see you well:
+	Horatio,--or I do forget myself.
+
+HORATIO	The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.
+
+HAMLET	Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you:
+	And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus?
+
+MARCELLUS	My good lord--
+
+HAMLET	I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir.
+	But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
+
+HORATIO	A truant disposition, good my lord.
+
+HAMLET	I would not hear your enemy say so,
+	Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
+	To make it truster of your own report
+	Against yourself: I know you are no truant.
+	But what is your affair in Elsinore?
+	We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.
+
+HORATIO	My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.
+
+HAMLET	I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student;
+	I think it was to see my mother's wedding.
+
+HORATIO	Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.
+
+HAMLET	Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats
+	Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
+	Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
+	Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!
+	My father!--methinks I see my father.
+
+HORATIO	Where, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	                  In my mind's eye, Horatio.
+
+HORATIO	I saw him once; he was a goodly king.
+
+HAMLET	He was a man, take him for all in all,
+	I shall not look upon his like again.
+
+HORATIO	My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
+
+HAMLET	Saw? who?
+
+HORATIO	My lord, the king your father.
+
+HAMLET	The king my father!
+
+HORATIO	Season your admiration for awhile
+	With an attent ear, till I may deliver,
+	Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
+	This marvel to you.
+
+HAMLET	For God's love, let me hear.
+
+HORATIO	Two nights together had these gentlemen,
+	Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
+	In the dead vast and middle of the night,
+	Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,
+	Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe,
+	Appears before them, and with solemn march
+	Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd
+	By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,
+	Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled
+	Almost to jelly with the act of fear,
+	Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me
+	In dreadful secrecy impart they did;
+	And I with them the third night kept the watch;
+	Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,
+	Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
+	The apparition comes: I knew your father;
+	These hands are not more like.
+
+HAMLET	But where was this?
+
+MARCELLUS	My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.
+
+HAMLET	Did you not speak to it?
+
+HORATIO	My lord, I did;
+	But answer made it none: yet once methought
+	It lifted up its head and did address
+	Itself to motion, like as it would speak;
+	But even then the morning cock crew loud,
+	And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
+	And vanish'd from our sight.
+
+HAMLET	'Tis very strange.
+
+HORATIO	As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;
+	And we did think it writ down in our duty
+	To let you know of it.
+
+HAMLET	Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.
+	Hold you the watch to-night?
+
+
+MARCELLUS	|
+	|	We do, my lord.
+BERNARDO	|
+
+
+HAMLET	Arm'd, say you?
+
+
+MARCELLUS	|
+	|  Arm'd, my lord.
+BERNARDO	|
+
+
+HAMLET	From top to toe?
+
+
+MARCELLUS	|
+	|             My lord, from head to foot.
+BERNARDO	|
+
+
+HAMLET	Then saw you not his face?
+
+HORATIO	O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.
+
+HAMLET	What, look'd he frowningly?
+
+HORATIO	A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
+
+HAMLET	Pale or red?
+
+HORATIO	Nay, very pale.
+
+HAMLET	                  And fix'd his eyes upon you?
+
+HORATIO	Most constantly.
+
+HAMLET	                  I would I had been there.
+
+HORATIO	It would have much amazed you.
+
+HAMLET	Very like, very like. Stay'd it long?
+
+HORATIO	While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.
+
+
+MARCELLUS	|
+	| Longer, longer.
+BERNARDO	|
+
+
+HORATIO	Not when I saw't.
+
+HAMLET	                  His beard was grizzled--no?
+
+HORATIO	It was, as I have seen it in his life,
+	A sable silver'd.
+
+HAMLET	                  I will watch to-night;
+	Perchance 'twill walk again.
+
+HORATIO	I warrant it will.
+
+HAMLET	If it assume my noble father's person,
+	I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape
+	And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
+	If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
+	Let it be tenable in your silence still;
+	And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
+	Give it an understanding, but no tongue:
+	I will requite your loves. So, fare you well:
+	Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
+	I'll visit you.
+
+All	                  Our duty to your honour.
+
+HAMLET	Your loves, as mine to you: farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt all but HAMLET]
+
+	My father's spirit in arms! all is not well;
+	I doubt some foul play: would the night were come!
+	Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise,
+	Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in Polonius' house.
+
+
+	[Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA]
+
+LAERTES	My necessaries are embark'd: farewell:
+	And, sister, as the winds give benefit
+	And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,
+	But let me hear from you.
+
+OPHELIA	Do you doubt that?
+
+LAERTES	For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour,
+	Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood,
+	A violet in the youth of primy nature,
+	Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,
+	The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.
+
+OPHELIA	       No more but so?
+
+LAERTES	Think it no more;
+	For nature, crescent, does not grow alone
+	In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes,
+	The inward service of the mind and soul
+	Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now,
+	And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch
+	The virtue of his will: but you must fear,
+	His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own;
+	For he himself is subject to his birth:
+	He may not, as unvalued persons do,
+	Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
+	The safety and health of this whole state;
+	And therefore must his choice be circumscribed
+	Unto the voice and yielding of that body
+	Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you,
+	It fits your wisdom so far to believe it
+	As he in his particular act and place
+	May give his saying deed; which is no further
+	Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
+	Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain,
+	If with too credent ear you list his songs,
+	Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open
+	To his unmaster'd importunity.
+	Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister,
+	And keep you in the rear of your affection,
+	Out of the shot and danger of desire.
+	The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
+	If she unmask her beauty to the moon:
+	Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes:
+	The canker galls the infants of the spring,
+	Too oft before their buttons be disclosed,
+	And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
+	Contagious blastments are most imminent.
+	Be wary then; best safety lies in fear:
+	Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
+
+OPHELIA	I shall the effect of this good lesson keep,
+	As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother,
+	Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
+	Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
+	Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
+	Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
+	And recks not his own rede.
+
+LAERTES	O, fear me not.
+	I stay too long: but here my father comes.
+
+	[Enter POLONIUS]
+
+	A double blessing is a double grace,
+	Occasion smiles upon a second leave.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame!
+	The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
+	And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee!
+	And these few precepts in thy memory
+	See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
+	Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
+	Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
+	Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
+	Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
+	But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
+	Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware
+	Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
+	Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee.
+	Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
+	Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
+	Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
+	But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
+	For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
+	And they in France of the best rank and station
+	Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
+	Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
+	For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
+	And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
+	This above all: to thine ownself be true,
+	And it must follow, as the night the day,
+	Thou canst not then be false to any man.
+	Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!
+
+LAERTES	Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	The time invites you; go; your servants tend.
+
+LAERTES	Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well
+	What I have said to you.
+
+OPHELIA	'Tis in my memory lock'd,
+	And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
+
+LAERTES	Farewell.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LORD POLONIUS	What is't, Ophelia, be hath said to you?
+
+OPHELIA	So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Marry, well bethought:
+	'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late
+	Given private time to you; and you yourself
+	Have of your audience been most free and bounteous:
+	If it be so, as so 'tis put on me,
+	And that in way of caution, I must tell you,
+	You do not understand yourself so clearly
+	As it behoves my daughter and your honour.
+	What is between you? give me up the truth.
+
+OPHELIA	He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders
+	Of his affection to me.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl,
+	Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.
+	Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?
+
+OPHELIA	I do not know, my lord, what I should think.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby;
+	That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay,
+	Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly;
+	Or--not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,
+	Running it thus--you'll tender me a fool.
+
+OPHELIA	My lord, he hath importuned me with love
+	In honourable fashion.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to.
+
+OPHELIA	And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,
+	With almost all the holy vows of heaven.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,
+	When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
+	Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter,
+	Giving more light than heat, extinct in both,
+	Even in their promise, as it is a-making,
+	You must not take for fire. From this time
+	Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence;
+	Set your entreatments at a higher rate
+	Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet,
+	Believe so much in him, that he is young
+	And with a larger tether may he walk
+	Than may be given you: in few, Ophelia,
+	Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers,
+	Not of that dye which their investments show,
+	But mere implorators of unholy suits,
+	Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds,
+	The better to beguile. This is for all:
+	I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth,
+	Have you so slander any moment leisure,
+	As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.
+	Look to't, I charge you: come your ways.
+
+OPHELIA	I shall obey, my lord.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The platform.
+
+
+	[Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS]
+
+HAMLET	The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
+
+HORATIO	It is a nipping and an eager air.
+
+HAMLET	What hour now?
+
+HORATIO	                  I think it lacks of twelve.
+
+HAMLET	No, it is struck.
+
+HORATIO	Indeed? I heard it not: then it draws near the season
+	Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.
+
+	[A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off, within]
+
+	What does this mean, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	The king doth wake to-night and takes his rouse,
+	Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels;
+	And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,
+	The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out
+	The triumph of his pledge.
+
+HORATIO	Is it a custom?
+
+HAMLET	Ay, marry, is't:
+	But to my mind, though I am native here
+	And to the manner born, it is a custom
+	More honour'd in the breach than the observance.
+	This heavy-headed revel east and west
+	Makes us traduced and tax'd of other nations:
+	They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase
+	Soil our addition; and indeed it takes
+	From our achievements, though perform'd at height,
+	The pith and marrow of our attribute.
+	So, oft it chances in particular men,
+	That for some vicious mole of nature in them,
+	As, in their birth--wherein they are not guilty,
+	Since nature cannot choose his origin--
+	By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,
+	Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason,
+	Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens
+	The form of plausive manners, that these men,
+	Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,
+	Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,--
+	Their virtues else--be they as pure as grace,
+	As infinite as man may undergo--
+	Shall in the general censure take corruption
+	From that particular fault: the dram of eale
+	Doth all the noble substance of a doubt
+	To his own scandal.
+
+HORATIO	Look, my lord, it comes!
+
+	[Enter Ghost]
+
+HAMLET	Angels and ministers of grace defend us!
+	Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd,
+	Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
+	Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
+	Thou comest in such a questionable shape
+	That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet,
+	King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me!
+	Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell
+	Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death,
+	Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre,
+	Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd,
+	Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws,
+	To cast thee up again. What may this mean,
+	That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel
+	Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,
+	Making night hideous; and we fools of nature
+	So horridly to shake our disposition
+	With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
+	Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?
+
+	[Ghost beckons HAMLET]
+
+HORATIO	It beckons you to go away with it,
+	As if it some impartment did desire
+	To you alone.
+
+MARCELLUS	                  Look, with what courteous action
+	It waves you to a more removed ground:
+	But do not go with it.
+
+HORATIO	No, by no means.
+
+HAMLET	It will not speak; then I will follow it.
+
+HORATIO	Do not, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	                  Why, what should be the fear?
+	I do not set my life in a pin's fee;
+	And for my soul, what can it do to that,
+	Being a thing immortal as itself?
+	It waves me forth again: I'll follow it.
+
+HORATIO	What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord,
+	Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff
+	That beetles o'er his base into the sea,
+	And there assume some other horrible form,
+	Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason
+	And draw you into madness? think of it:
+	The very place puts toys of desperation,
+	Without more motive, into every brain
+	That looks so many fathoms to the sea
+	And hears it roar beneath.
+
+HAMLET	It waves me still.
+	Go on; I'll follow thee.
+
+MARCELLUS	You shall not go, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Hold off your hands.
+
+HORATIO	Be ruled; you shall not go.
+
+HAMLET	My fate cries out,
+	And makes each petty artery in this body
+	As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.
+	Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen.
+	By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!
+	I say, away! Go on; I'll follow thee.
+
+	[Exeunt Ghost and HAMLET]
+
+HORATIO	He waxes desperate with imagination.
+
+MARCELLUS	Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him.
+
+HORATIO	Have after. To what issue will this come?
+
+MARCELLUS	Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
+
+HORATIO	Heaven will direct it.
+
+MARCELLUS	Nay, let's follow him.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another part of the platform.
+
+
+	[Enter GHOST and HAMLET]
+
+HAMLET	Where wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no further.
+
+Ghost	Mark me.
+
+HAMLET	       I will.
+
+Ghost	                  My hour is almost come,
+	When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames
+	Must render up myself.
+
+HAMLET	Alas, poor ghost!
+
+Ghost	Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing
+	To what I shall unfold.
+
+HAMLET	Speak; I am bound to hear.
+
+Ghost	 So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.
+
+HAMLET	What?
+
+Ghost	I am thy father's spirit,
+	Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,
+	And for the day confined to fast in fires,
+	Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
+	Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid
+	To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
+	I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
+	Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
+	Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,
+	Thy knotted and combined locks to part
+	And each particular hair to stand on end,
+	Like quills upon the fretful porpentine:
+	But this eternal blazon must not be
+	To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!
+	If thou didst ever thy dear father love--
+
+HAMLET	O God!
+
+Ghost	Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.
+
+HAMLET	Murder!
+
+Ghost	Murder most foul, as in the best it is;
+	But this most foul, strange and unnatural.
+
+HAMLET	Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift
+	As meditation or the thoughts of love,
+	May sweep to my revenge.
+
+Ghost	I find thee apt;
+	And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
+	That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,
+	Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear:
+	'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,
+	A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark
+	Is by a forged process of my death
+	Rankly abused: but know, thou noble youth,
+	The serpent that did sting thy father's life
+	Now wears his crown.
+
+HAMLET	O my prophetic soul! My uncle!
+
+Ghost	Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,
+	With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,--
+	O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power
+	So to seduce!--won to his shameful lust
+	The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen:
+	O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!
+	From me, whose love was of that dignity
+	That it went hand in hand even with the vow
+	I made to her in marriage, and to decline
+	Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor
+	To those of mine!
+	But virtue, as it never will be moved,
+	Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven,
+	So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,
+	Will sate itself in a celestial bed,
+	And prey on garbage.
+	But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air;
+	Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,
+	My custom always of the afternoon,
+	Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,
+	With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial,
+	And in the porches of my ears did pour
+	The leperous distilment; whose effect
+	Holds such an enmity with blood of man
+	That swift as quicksilver it courses through
+	The natural gates and alleys of the body,
+	And with a sudden vigour doth posset
+	And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
+	The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine;
+	And a most instant tetter bark'd about,
+	Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust,
+	All my smooth body.
+	Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand
+	Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd:
+	Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
+	Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd,
+	No reckoning made, but sent to my account
+	With all my imperfections on my head:
+	O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!
+	If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not;
+	Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
+	A couch for luxury and damned incest.
+	But, howsoever thou pursuest this act,
+	Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
+	Against thy mother aught: leave her to heaven
+	And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
+	To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once!
+	The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,
+	And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire:
+	Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HAMLET	O all you host of heaven! O earth! what else?
+	And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, hold, my heart;
+	And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
+	But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee!
+	Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat
+	In this distracted globe. Remember thee!
+	Yea, from the table of my memory
+	I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,
+	All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,
+	That youth and observation copied there;
+	And thy commandment all alone shall live
+	Within the book and volume of my brain,
+	Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!
+	O most pernicious woman!
+	O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!
+	My tables,--meet it is I set it down,
+	That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;
+	At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark:
+
+	[Writing]
+
+	So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word;
+	It is 'Adieu, adieu! remember me.'
+	I have sworn 't.
+
+
+MARCELLUS	|
+	| [Within]  My lord, my lord,--
+HORATIO	|
+
+
+MARCELLUS	[Within]	Lord Hamlet,--
+
+HORATIO	[Within]	Heaven secure him!
+
+HAMLET	So be it!
+
+HORATIO	[Within]  Hillo, ho, ho, my lord!
+
+HAMLET	Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come.
+
+	[Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS]
+
+MARCELLUS	How is't, my noble lord?
+
+HORATIO	What news, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	O, wonderful!
+
+HORATIO	                  Good my lord, tell it.
+
+HAMLET	No; you'll reveal it.
+
+HORATIO	Not I, my lord, by heaven.
+
+MARCELLUS	Nor I, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	How say you, then; would heart of man once think it?
+	But you'll be secret?
+
+
+HORATIO	|
+	|                   Ay, by heaven, my lord.
+MARCELLUS	|
+
+
+HAMLET	There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark
+	But he's an arrant knave.
+
+HORATIO	There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave
+	To tell us this.
+
+HAMLET	                  Why, right; you are i' the right;
+	And so, without more circumstance at all,
+	I hold it fit that we shake hands and part:
+	You, as your business and desire shall point you;
+	For every man has business and desire,
+	Such as it is; and for mine own poor part,
+	Look you, I'll go pray.
+
+HORATIO	These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	I'm sorry they offend you, heartily;
+	Yes, 'faith heartily.
+
+HORATIO	There's no offence, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,
+	And much offence too. Touching this vision here,
+	It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you:
+	For your desire to know what is between us,
+	O'ermaster 't as you may. And now, good friends,
+	As you are friends, scholars and soldiers,
+	Give me one poor request.
+
+HORATIO	What is't, my lord? we will.
+
+HAMLET	Never make known what you have seen to-night.
+
+
+HORATIO	|
+	| My lord, we will not.
+MARCELLUS	|
+
+
+HAMLET	Nay, but swear't.
+
+HORATIO	In faith,
+	My lord, not I.
+
+MARCELLUS	                  Nor I, my lord, in faith.
+
+HAMLET	Upon my sword.
+
+MARCELLUS	                  We have sworn, my lord, already.
+
+HAMLET	Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.
+
+Ghost	[Beneath]  Swear.
+
+HAMLET	Ah, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there,
+	truepenny?
+	Come on--you hear this fellow in the cellarage--
+	Consent to swear.
+
+HORATIO	                  Propose the oath, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Never to speak of this that you have seen,
+	Swear by my sword.
+
+Ghost	[Beneath]  Swear.
+
+HAMLET	Hic et ubique? then we'll shift our ground.
+	Come hither, gentlemen,
+	And lay your hands again upon my sword:
+	Never to speak of this that you have heard,
+	Swear by my sword.
+
+Ghost	[Beneath]  Swear.
+
+HAMLET	Well said, old mole! canst work i' the earth so fast?
+	A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends.
+
+HORATIO	O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!
+
+HAMLET	And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
+	There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
+	Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come;
+	Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,
+	How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself,
+	As I perchance hereafter shall think meet
+	To put an antic disposition on,
+	That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
+	With arms encumber'd thus, or this headshake,
+	Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
+	As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,'
+	Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,'
+	Or such ambiguous giving out, to note
+	That you know aught of me: this not to do,
+	So grace and mercy at your most need help you, Swear.
+
+Ghost	[Beneath]  Swear.
+
+HAMLET	Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!
+
+	[They swear]
+
+		        So, gentlemen,
+	With all my love I do commend me to you:
+	And what so poor a man as Hamlet is
+	May do, to express his love and friending to you,
+	God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together;
+	And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.
+	The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,
+	That ever I was born to set it right!
+	Nay, come, let's go together.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A room in POLONIUS' house.
+
+
+	[Enter POLONIUS and REYNALDO]
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo.
+
+REYNALDO	I will, my lord.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo,
+	Before you visit him, to make inquire
+	Of his behavior.
+
+REYNALDO	                  My lord, I did intend it.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Marry, well said; very well said. Look you, sir,
+	Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris;
+	And how, and who, what means, and where they keep,
+	What company, at what expense; and finding
+	By this encompassment and drift of question
+	That they do know my son, come you more nearer
+	Than your particular demands will touch it:
+	Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him;
+	As thus, 'I know his father and his friends,
+	And in part him: ' do you mark this, Reynaldo?
+
+REYNALDO	Ay, very well, my lord.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	'And in part him; but' you may say 'not well:
+	But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild;
+	Addicted so and so:' and there put on him
+	What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank
+	As may dishonour him; take heed of that;
+	But, sir, such wanton, wild and usual slips
+	As are companions noted and most known
+	To youth and liberty.
+
+REYNALDO	As gaming, my lord.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling,
+	Drabbing: you may go so far.
+
+REYNALDO	My lord, that would dishonour him.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	'Faith, no; as you may season it in the charge
+	You must not put another scandal on him,
+	That he is open to incontinency;
+	That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so quaintly
+	That they may seem the taints of liberty,
+	The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind,
+	A savageness in unreclaimed blood,
+	Of general assault.
+
+REYNALDO	But, my good lord,--
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Wherefore should you do this?
+
+REYNALDO	Ay, my lord,
+	I would know that.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	                  Marry, sir, here's my drift;
+	And I believe, it is a fetch of wit:
+	You laying these slight sullies on my son,
+	As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working, Mark you,
+	Your party in converse, him you would sound,
+	Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes
+	The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured
+	He closes with you in this consequence;
+	'Good sir,' or so, or 'friend,' or 'gentleman,'
+	According to the phrase or the addition
+	Of man and country.
+
+REYNALDO	Very good, my lord.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	And then, sir, does he this--he does--what was I
+	about to say? By the mass, I was about to say
+	something: where did I leave?
+
+REYNALDO	At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,'
+	and 'gentleman.'
+
+LORD POLONIUS	At 'closes in the consequence,' ay, marry;
+	He closes thus: 'I know the gentleman;
+	I saw him yesterday, or t' other day,
+	Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you say,
+	There was a' gaming; there o'ertook in's rouse;
+	There falling out at tennis:' or perchance,
+	'I saw him enter such a house of sale,'
+	Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth.
+	See you now;
+	Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth:
+	And thus do we of wisdom and of reach,
+	With windlasses and with assays of bias,
+	By indirections find directions out:
+	So by my former lecture and advice,
+	Shall you my son. You have me, have you not?
+
+REYNALDO	My lord, I have.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	                  God be wi' you; fare you well.
+
+REYNALDO	Good my lord!
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Observe his inclination in yourself.
+
+REYNALDO	I shall, my lord.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	And let him ply his music.
+
+REYNALDO	Well, my lord.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Farewell!
+
+	[Exit REYNALDO]
+
+	[Enter OPHELIA]
+
+	How now, Ophelia! what's the matter?
+
+OPHELIA	O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!
+
+LORD POLONIUS	With what, i' the name of God?
+
+OPHELIA	My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,
+	Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced;
+	No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd,
+	Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle;
+	Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other;
+	And with a look so piteous in purport
+	As if he had been loosed out of hell
+	To speak of horrors,--he comes before me.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Mad for thy love?
+
+OPHELIA	                  My lord, I do not know;
+	But truly, I do fear it.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	What said he?
+
+OPHELIA	He took me by the wrist and held me hard;
+	Then goes he to the length of all his arm;
+	And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow,
+	He falls to such perusal of my face
+	As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so;
+	At last, a little shaking of mine arm
+	And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
+	He raised a sigh so piteous and profound
+	As it did seem to shatter all his bulk
+	And end his being: that done, he lets me go:
+	And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,
+	He seem'd to find his way without his eyes;
+	For out o' doors he went without their helps,
+	And, to the last, bended their light on me.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Come, go with me: I will go seek the king.
+	This is the very ecstasy of love,
+	Whose violent property fordoes itself
+	And leads the will to desperate undertakings
+	As oft as any passion under heaven
+	That does afflict our natures. I am sorry.
+	What, have you given him any hard words of late?
+
+OPHELIA	No, my good lord, but, as you did command,
+	I did repel his fetters and denied
+	His access to me.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	                  That hath made him mad.
+	I am sorry that with better heed and judgment
+	I had not quoted him: I fear'd he did but trifle,
+	And meant to wreck thee; but, beshrew my jealousy!
+	By heaven, it is as proper to our age
+	To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions
+	As it is common for the younger sort
+	To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king:
+	This must be known; which, being kept close, might
+	move
+	More grief to hide than hate to utter love.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ,
+	GUILDENSTERN, and Attendants]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!
+	Moreover that we much did long to see you,
+	The need we have to use you did provoke
+	Our hasty sending. Something have you heard
+	Of Hamlet's transformation; so call it,
+	Sith nor the exterior nor the inward man
+	Resembles that it was. What it should be,
+	More than his father's death, that thus hath put him
+	So much from the understanding of himself,
+	I cannot dream of: I entreat you both,
+	That, being of so young days brought up with him,
+	And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and havior,
+	That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court
+	Some little time: so by your companies
+	To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather,
+	So much as from occasion you may glean,
+	Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus,
+	That, open'd, lies within our remedy.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you;
+	And sure I am two men there are not living
+	To whom he more adheres. If it will please you
+	To show us so much gentry and good will
+	As to expend your time with us awhile,
+	For the supply and profit of our hope,
+	Your visitation shall receive such thanks
+	As fits a king's remembrance.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Both your majesties
+	Might, by the sovereign power you have of us,
+	Put your dread pleasures more into command
+	Than to entreaty.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	                  But we both obey,
+	And here give up ourselves, in the full bent
+	To lay our service freely at your feet,
+	To be commanded.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz:
+	And I beseech you instantly to visit
+	My too much changed son. Go, some of you,
+	And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	Heavens make our presence and our practises
+	Pleasant and helpful to him!
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Ay, amen!
+
+	[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and some
+	Attendants]
+
+	[Enter POLONIUS]
+
+LORD POLONIUS	The ambassadors from Norway, my good lord,
+	Are joyfully return'd.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Thou still hast been the father of good news.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Have I, my lord? I assure my good liege,
+	I hold my duty, as I hold my soul,
+	Both to my God and to my gracious king:
+	And I do think, or else this brain of mine
+	Hunts not the trail of policy so sure
+	As it hath used to do, that I have found
+	The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	O, speak of that; that do I long to hear.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Give first admittance to the ambassadors;
+	My news shall be the fruit to that great feast.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in.
+
+	[Exit POLONIUS]
+
+	He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found
+	The head and source of all your son's distemper.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	I doubt it is no other but the main;
+	His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Well, we shall sift him.
+
+	[Re-enter POLONIUS, with VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS]
+
+		   Welcome, my good friends!
+	Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?
+
+VOLTIMAND	Most fair return of greetings and desires.
+	Upon our first, he sent out to suppress
+	His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd
+	To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack;
+	But, better look'd into, he truly found
+	It was against your highness: whereat grieved,
+	That so his sickness, age and impotence
+	Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests
+	On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys;
+	Receives rebuke from Norway, and in fine
+	Makes vow before his uncle never more
+	To give the assay of arms against your majesty.
+	Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy,
+	Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee,
+	And his commission to employ those soldiers,
+	So levied as before, against the Polack:
+	With an entreaty, herein further shown,
+
+	[Giving a paper]
+
+	That it might please you to give quiet pass
+	Through your dominions for this enterprise,
+	On such regards of safety and allowance
+	As therein are set down.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	It likes us well;
+	And at our more consider'd time well read,
+	Answer, and think upon this business.
+	Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour:
+	Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together:
+	Most welcome home!
+
+	[Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS]
+
+LORD POLONIUS	                  This business is well ended.
+	My liege, and madam, to expostulate
+	What majesty should be, what duty is,
+	Why day is day, night night, and time is time,
+	Were nothing but to waste night, day and time.
+	Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
+	And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
+	I will be brief: your noble son is mad:
+	Mad call I it; for, to define true madness,
+	What is't but to be nothing else but mad?
+	But let that go.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	                  More matter, with less art.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Madam, I swear I use no art at all.
+	That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity;
+	And pity 'tis 'tis true: a foolish figure;
+	But farewell it, for I will use no art.
+	Mad let us grant him, then: and now remains
+	That we find out the cause of this effect,
+	Or rather say, the cause of this defect,
+	For this effect defective comes by cause:
+	Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Perpend.
+	I have a daughter--have while she is mine--
+	Who, in her duty and obedience, mark,
+	Hath given me this: now gather, and surmise.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'To the celestial and my soul's idol, the most
+	beautified Ophelia,'--
+	That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is
+	a vile phrase: but you shall hear. Thus:
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'In her excellent white bosom, these, &c.'
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Came this from Hamlet to her?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'Doubt thou the stars are fire;
+	Doubt that the sun doth move;
+	Doubt truth to be a liar;
+	But never doubt I love.
+	'O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers;
+	I have not art to reckon my groans: but that
+	I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu.
+	'Thine evermore most dear lady, whilst
+	this machine is to him, HAMLET.'
+	This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me,
+	And more above, hath his solicitings,
+	As they fell out by time, by means and place,
+	All given to mine ear.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	But how hath she
+	Received his love?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	                  What do you think of me?
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	As of a man faithful and honourable.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	I would fain prove so. But what might you think,
+	When I had seen this hot love on the wing--
+	As I perceived it, I must tell you that,
+	Before my daughter told me--what might you,
+	Or my dear majesty your queen here, think,
+	If I had play'd the desk or table-book,
+	Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb,
+	Or look'd upon this love with idle sight;
+	What might you think? No, I went round to work,
+	And my young mistress thus I did bespeak:
+	'Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star;
+	This must not be:' and then I precepts gave her,
+	That she should lock herself from his resort,
+	Admit no messengers, receive no tokens.
+	Which done, she took the fruits of my advice;
+	And he, repulsed--a short tale to make--
+	Fell into a sadness, then into a fast,
+	Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness,
+	Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension,
+	Into the madness wherein now he raves,
+	And all we mourn for.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Do you think 'tis this?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	It may be, very likely.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Hath there been such a time--I'd fain know that--
+	That I have positively said 'Tis so,'
+	When it proved otherwise?
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Not that I know.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	[Pointing to his head and shoulder]
+
+	Take this from this, if this be otherwise:
+	If circumstances lead me, I will find
+	Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed
+	Within the centre.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	                  How may we try it further?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	You know, sometimes he walks four hours together
+	Here in the lobby.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	                  So he does indeed.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him:
+	Be you and I behind an arras then;
+	Mark the encounter: if he love her not
+	And be not from his reason fall'n thereon,
+	Let me be no assistant for a state,
+	But keep a farm and carters.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	We will try it.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Away, I do beseech you, both away:
+	I'll board him presently.
+
+	[Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, and
+	Attendants]
+
+	[Enter HAMLET, reading]
+
+		    O, give me leave:
+	How does my good Lord Hamlet?
+
+HAMLET	Well, God-a-mercy.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Do you know me, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Not I, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Then I would you were so honest a man.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Honest, my lord!
+
+HAMLET	Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be
+	one man picked out of ten thousand.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	That's very true, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a
+	god kissing carrion,--Have you a daughter?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	I have, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Let her not walk i' the sun: conception is a
+	blessing: but not as your daughter may conceive.
+	Friend, look to 't.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	[Aside]  How say you by that? Still harping on my
+	daughter: yet he knew me not at first; he said I
+	was a fishmonger: he is far gone, far gone: and
+	truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for
+	love; very near this. I'll speak to him again.
+	What do you read, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Words, words, words.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	What is the matter, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Between who?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here
+	that old men have grey beards, that their faces are
+	wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and
+	plum-tree gum and that they have a plentiful lack of
+	wit, together with most weak hams: all which, sir,
+	though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet
+	I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down, for
+	yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a crab
+	you could go backward.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	[Aside]  Though this be madness, yet there is method
+	in 't. Will you walk out of the air, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Into my grave.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Indeed, that is out o' the air.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness
+	that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity
+	could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will
+	leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of
+	meeting between him and my daughter.--My honourable
+	lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you.
+
+HAMLET	You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will
+	more willingly part withal: except my life, except
+	my life, except my life.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Fare you well, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	These tedious old fools!
+
+	[Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+LORD POLONIUS	You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	[To POLONIUS]  God save you, sir!
+
+	[Exit POLONIUS]
+
+GUILDENSTERN	My honoured lord!
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	My most dear lord!
+
+HAMLET	My excellent good friends! How dost thou,
+	Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	As the indifferent children of the earth.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	Happy, in that we are not over-happy;
+	On fortune's cap we are not the very button.
+
+HAMLET	Nor the soles of her shoe?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Neither, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of
+	her favours?
+
+GUILDENSTERN	'Faith, her privates we.
+
+HAMLET	In the secret parts of fortune? O, most true; she
+	is a strumpet. What's the news?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest.
+
+HAMLET	Then is doomsday near: but your news is not true.
+	Let me question more in particular: what have you,
+	my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune,
+	that she sends you to prison hither?
+
+GUILDENSTERN	Prison, my lord!
+
+HAMLET	Denmark's a prison.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Then is the world one.
+
+HAMLET	A goodly one; in which there are many confines,
+	wards and dungeons, Denmark being one o' the worst.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	We think not so, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Why, then, 'tis none to you; for there is nothing
+	either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me
+	it is a prison.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Why then, your ambition makes it one; 'tis too
+	narrow for your mind.
+
+HAMLET	O God, I could be bounded in a nut shell and count
+	myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I
+	have bad dreams.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	Which dreams indeed are ambition, for the very
+	substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.
+
+HAMLET	A dream itself is but a shadow.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a
+	quality that it is but a shadow's shadow.
+
+HAMLET	Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and
+	outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we
+	to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason.
+
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	|
+	| We'll wait upon you.
+GUILDENSTERN	|
+
+
+HAMLET	No such matter: I will not sort you with the rest
+	of my servants, for, to speak to you like an honest
+	man, I am most dreadfully attended. But, in the
+	beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	To visit you, my lord; no other occasion.
+
+HAMLET	Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I
+	thank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks are
+	too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it
+	your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come,
+	deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	What should we say, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Why, any thing, but to the purpose. You were sent
+	for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks
+	which your modesties have not craft enough to colour:
+	I know the good king and queen have sent for you.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	To what end, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by
+	the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of
+	our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved
+	love, and by what more dear a better proposer could
+	charge you withal, be even and direct with me,
+	whether you were sent for, or no?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	[Aside to GUILDENSTERN]  What say you?
+
+HAMLET	[Aside]  Nay, then, I have an eye of you.--If you
+	love me, hold not off.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	My lord, we were sent for.
+
+HAMLET	I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation
+	prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king
+	and queen moult no feather. I have of late--but
+	wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all
+	custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily
+	with my disposition that this goodly frame, the
+	earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most
+	excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave
+	o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted
+	with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to
+	me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
+	What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason!
+	how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how
+	express and admirable! in action how like an angel!
+	in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the
+	world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me,
+	what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not
+	me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling
+	you seem to say so.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.
+
+HAMLET	Why did you laugh then, when I said 'man delights not me'?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what
+	lenten entertainment the players shall receive from
+	you: we coted them on the way; and hither are they
+	coming, to offer you service.
+
+HAMLET	He that plays the king shall be welcome; his majesty
+	shall have tribute of me; the adventurous knight
+	shall use his foil and target; the lover shall not
+	sigh gratis; the humourous man shall end his part
+	in peace; the clown shall make those laugh whose
+	lungs are tickled o' the sere; and the lady shall
+	say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt
+	for't. What players are they?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Even those you were wont to take delight in, the
+	tragedians of the city.
+
+HAMLET	How chances it they travel? their residence, both
+	in reputation and profit, was better both ways.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	I think their inhibition comes by the means of the
+	late innovation.
+
+HAMLET	Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was
+	in the city? are they so followed?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	No, indeed, are they not.
+
+HAMLET	How comes it? do they grow rusty?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: but
+	there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases,
+	that cry out on the top of question, and are most
+	tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the
+	fashion, and so berattle the common stages--so they
+	call them--that many wearing rapiers are afraid of
+	goose-quills and dare scarce come thither.
+
+HAMLET	What, are they children? who maintains 'em? how are
+	they escoted? Will they pursue the quality no
+	longer than they can sing? will they not say
+	afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common
+	players--as it is most like, if their means are no
+	better--their writers do them wrong, to make them
+	exclaim against their own succession?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	'Faith, there has been much to do on both sides; and
+	the nation holds it no sin to tarre them to
+	controversy: there was, for a while, no money bid
+	for argument, unless the poet and the player went to
+	cuffs in the question.
+
+HAMLET	Is't possible?
+
+GUILDENSTERN	O, there has been much throwing about of brains.
+
+HAMLET	Do the boys carry it away?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Ay, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too.
+
+HAMLET	It is not very strange; for mine uncle is king of
+	Denmark, and those that would make mows at him while
+	my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, an
+	hundred ducats a-piece for his picture in little.
+	'Sblood, there is something in this more than
+	natural, if philosophy could find it out.
+
+	[Flourish of trumpets within]
+
+GUILDENSTERN	There are the players.
+
+HAMLET	Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands,
+	come then: the appurtenance of welcome is fashion
+	and ceremony: let me comply with you in this garb,
+	lest my extent to the players, which, I tell you,
+	must show fairly outward, should more appear like
+	entertainment than yours. You are welcome: but my
+	uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	In what, my dear lord?
+
+HAMLET	I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is
+	southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.
+
+	[Enter POLONIUS]
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Well be with you, gentlemen!
+
+HAMLET	Hark you, Guildenstern; and you too: at each ear a
+	hearer: that great baby you see there is not yet
+	out of his swaddling-clouts.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Happily he's the second time come to them; for they
+	say an old man is twice a child.
+
+HAMLET	I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players;
+	mark it. You say right, sir: o' Monday morning;
+	'twas so indeed.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	My lord, I have news to tell you.
+
+HAMLET	My lord, I have news to tell you.
+	When Roscius was an actor in Rome,--
+
+LORD POLONIUS	The actors are come hither, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Buz, buz!
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Upon mine honour,--
+
+HAMLET	Then came each actor on his ass,--
+
+LORD POLONIUS	The best actors in the world, either for tragedy,
+	comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical,
+	historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-
+	comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or
+	poem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor
+	Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the
+	liberty, these are the only men.
+
+HAMLET	O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou!
+
+LORD POLONIUS	What a treasure had he, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Why,
+	'One fair daughter and no more,
+	The which he loved passing well.'
+
+LORD POLONIUS	[Aside]  Still on my daughter.
+
+HAMLET	Am I not i' the right, old Jephthah?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter
+	that I love passing well.
+
+HAMLET	Nay, that follows not.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	What follows, then, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Why,
+	'As by lot, God wot,'
+	and then, you know,
+	'It came to pass, as most like it was,'--
+	the first row of the pious chanson will show you
+	more; for look, where my abridgement comes.
+
+	[Enter four or five Players]
+
+	You are welcome, masters; welcome, all. I am glad
+	to see thee well. Welcome, good friends. O, my old
+	friend! thy face is valenced since I saw thee last:
+	comest thou to beard me in Denmark? What, my young
+	lady and mistress! By'r lady, your ladyship is
+	nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the
+	altitude of a chopine. Pray God, your voice, like
+	apiece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the
+	ring. Masters, you are all welcome. We'll e'en
+	to't like French falconers, fly at any thing we see:
+	we'll have a speech straight: come, give us a taste
+	of your quality; come, a passionate speech.
+
+First Player	What speech, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was
+	never acted; or, if it was, not above once; for the
+	play, I remember, pleased not the million; 'twas
+	caviare to the general: but it was--as I received
+	it, and others, whose judgments in such matters
+	cried in the top of mine--an excellent play, well
+	digested in the scenes, set down with as much
+	modesty as cunning. I remember, one said there
+	were no sallets in the lines to make the matter
+	savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might
+	indict the author of affectation; but called it an
+	honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very
+	much more handsome than fine. One speech in it I
+	chiefly loved: 'twas Aeneas' tale to Dido; and
+	thereabout of it especially, where he speaks of
+	Priam's slaughter: if it live in your memory, begin
+	at this line: let me see, let me see--
+	'The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast,'--
+	it is not so:--it begins with Pyrrhus:--
+	'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms,
+	Black as his purpose, did the night resemble
+	When he lay couched in the ominous horse,
+	Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd
+	With heraldry more dismal; head to foot
+	Now is he total gules; horridly trick'd
+	With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons,
+	Baked and impasted with the parching streets,
+	That lend a tyrannous and damned light
+	To their lord's murder: roasted in wrath and fire,
+	And thus o'er-sized with coagulate gore,
+	With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus
+	Old grandsire Priam seeks.'
+	So, proceed you.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	'Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and
+	good discretion.
+
+First Player	'Anon he finds him
+	Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword,
+	Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,
+	Repugnant to command: unequal match'd,
+	Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide;
+	But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword
+	The unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium,
+	Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top
+	Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash
+	Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for, lo! his sword,
+	Which was declining on the milky head
+	Of reverend Priam, seem'd i' the air to stick:
+	So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood,
+	And like a neutral to his will and matter,
+	Did nothing.
+	But, as we often see, against some storm,
+	A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still,
+	The bold winds speechless and the orb below
+	As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder
+	Doth rend the region, so, after Pyrrhus' pause,
+	Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work;
+	And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall
+	On Mars's armour forged for proof eterne
+	With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword
+	Now falls on Priam.
+	Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods,
+	In general synod 'take away her power;
+	Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel,
+	And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven,
+	As low as to the fiends!'
+
+LORD POLONIUS	This is too long.
+
+HAMLET	It shall to the barber's, with your beard. Prithee,
+	say on: he's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he
+	sleeps: say on: come to Hecuba.
+
+First Player	'But who, O, who had seen the mobled queen--'
+
+HAMLET	'The mobled queen?'
+
+LORD POLONIUS	That's good; 'mobled queen' is good.
+
+First Player	'Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames
+	With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head
+	Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe,
+	About her lank and all o'er-teemed loins,
+	A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up;
+	Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd,
+	'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have
+	pronounced:
+	But if the gods themselves did see her then
+	When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport
+	In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs,
+	The instant burst of clamour that she made,
+	Unless things mortal move them not at all,
+	Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven,
+	And passion in the gods.'
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Look, whether he has not turned his colour and has
+	tears in's eyes. Pray you, no more.
+
+HAMLET	'Tis well: I'll have thee speak out the rest soon.
+	Good my lord, will you see the players well
+	bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for
+	they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the
+	time: after your death you were better have a bad
+	epitaph than their ill report while you live.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
+
+HAMLET	God's bodykins, man, much better: use every man
+	after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping?
+	Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less
+	they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.
+	Take them in.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Come, sirs.
+
+HAMLET	Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow.
+
+	[Exit POLONIUS with all the Players but the First]
+
+	Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play the
+	Murder of Gonzago?
+
+First Player	Ay, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need,
+	study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which
+	I would set down and insert in't, could you not?
+
+First Player	Ay, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock him
+	not.
+
+	[Exit First Player]
+
+	My good friends, I'll leave you till night: you are
+	welcome to Elsinore.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Good my lord!
+
+HAMLET	Ay, so, God be wi' ye;
+
+	[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+		  Now I am alone.
+	O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
+	Is it not monstrous that this player here,
+	But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
+	Could force his soul so to his own conceit
+	That from her working all his visage wann'd,
+	Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
+	A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
+	With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing!
+	For Hecuba!
+	What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
+	That he should weep for her? What would he do,
+	Had he the motive and the cue for passion
+	That I have? He would drown the stage with tears
+	And cleave the general ear with horrid speech,
+	Make mad the guilty and appal the free,
+	Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed
+	The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I,
+	A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,
+	Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,
+	And can say nothing; no, not for a king,
+	Upon whose property and most dear life
+	A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward?
+	Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across?
+	Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?
+	Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat,
+	As deep as to the lungs? who does me this?
+	Ha!
+	'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be
+	But I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gall
+	To make oppression bitter, or ere this
+	I should have fatted all the region kites
+	With this slave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain!
+	Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain!
+	O, vengeance!
+	Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave,
+	That I, the son of a dear father murder'd,
+	Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,
+	Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words,
+	And fall a-cursing, like a very drab,
+	A scullion!
+	Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard
+	That guilty creatures sitting at a play
+	Have by the very cunning of the scene
+	Been struck so to the soul that presently
+	They have proclaim'd their malefactions;
+	For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
+	With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players
+	Play something like the murder of my father
+	Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks;
+	I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench,
+	I know my course. The spirit that I have seen
+	May be the devil: and the devil hath power
+	To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps
+	Out of my weakness and my melancholy,
+	As he is very potent with such spirits,
+	Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds
+	More relative than this: the play 's the thing
+	Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS,
+	OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	And can you, by no drift of circumstance,
+	Get from him why he puts on this confusion,
+	Grating so harshly all his days of quiet
+	With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	He does confess he feels himself distracted;
+	But from what cause he will by no means speak.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,
+	But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof,
+	When we would bring him on to some confession
+	Of his true state.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	                  Did he receive you well?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Most like a gentleman.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	But with much forcing of his disposition.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Niggard of question; but, of our demands,
+	Most free in his reply.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Did you assay him?
+	To any pastime?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Madam, it so fell out, that certain players
+	We o'er-raught on the way: of these we told him;
+	And there did seem in him a kind of joy
+	To hear of it: they are about the court,
+	And, as I think, they have already order
+	This night to play before him.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	'Tis most true:
+	And he beseech'd me to entreat your majesties
+	To hear and see the matter.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	With all my heart; and it doth much content me
+	To hear him so inclined.
+	Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,
+	And drive his purpose on to these delights.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	We shall, my lord.
+
+	[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	                  Sweet Gertrude, leave us too;
+	For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither,
+	That he, as 'twere by accident, may here
+	Affront Ophelia:
+	Her father and myself, lawful espials,
+	Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing, unseen,
+	We may of their encounter frankly judge,
+	And gather by him, as he is behaved,
+	If 't be the affliction of his love or no
+	That thus he suffers for.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	I shall obey you.
+	And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish
+	That your good beauties be the happy cause
+	Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues
+	Will bring him to his wonted way again,
+	To both your honours.
+
+OPHELIA	Madam, I wish it may.
+
+	[Exit QUEEN GERTRUDE]
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you,
+	We will bestow ourselves.
+
+	[To OPHELIA]
+
+		    Read on this book;
+	That show of such an exercise may colour
+	Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,--
+	'Tis too much proved--that with devotion's visage
+	And pious action we do sugar o'er
+	The devil himself.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	[Aside]          O, 'tis too true!
+	How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience!
+	The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art,
+	Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it
+	Than is my deed to my most painted word:
+	O heavy burthen!
+
+LORD POLONIUS	I hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord.
+
+	[Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS]
+
+	[Enter HAMLET]
+
+HAMLET	To be, or not to be: that is the question:
+	Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
+	The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
+	Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
+	And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
+	No more; and by a sleep to say we end
+	The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
+	That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
+	Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
+	To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
+	For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
+	When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
+	Must give us pause: there's the respect
+	That makes calamity of so long life;
+	For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
+	The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
+	The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
+	The insolence of office and the spurns
+	That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
+	When he himself might his quietus make
+	With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
+	To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
+	But that the dread of something after death,
+	The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
+	No traveller returns, puzzles the will
+	And makes us rather bear those ills we have
+	Than fly to others that we know not of?
+	Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
+	And thus the native hue of resolution
+	Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
+	And enterprises of great pith and moment
+	With this regard their currents turn awry,
+	And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!
+	The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
+	Be all my sins remember'd.
+
+OPHELIA	Good my lord,
+	How does your honour for this many a day?
+
+HAMLET	I humbly thank you; well, well, well.
+
+OPHELIA	My lord, I have remembrances of yours,
+	That I have longed long to re-deliver;
+	I pray you, now receive them.
+
+HAMLET	No, not I;
+	I never gave you aught.
+
+OPHELIA	My honour'd lord, you know right well you did;
+	And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed
+	As made the things more rich: their perfume lost,
+	Take these again; for to the noble mind
+	Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
+	There, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Ha, ha! are you honest?
+
+OPHELIA	My lord?
+
+HAMLET	Are you fair?
+
+OPHELIA	What means your lordship?
+
+HAMLET	That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should
+	admit no discourse to your beauty.
+
+OPHELIA	Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than
+	with honesty?
+
+HAMLET	Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner
+	transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the
+	force of honesty can translate beauty into his
+	likeness: this was sometime a paradox, but now the
+	time gives it proof. I did love you once.
+
+OPHELIA	Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.
+
+HAMLET	You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot
+	so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of
+	it: I loved you not.
+
+OPHELIA	I was the more deceived.
+
+HAMLET	Get thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a
+	breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest;
+	but yet I could accuse me of such things that it
+	were better my mother had not borne me: I am very
+	proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at
+	my beck than I have thoughts to put them in,
+	imagination to give them shape, or time to act them
+	in. What should such fellows as I do crawling
+	between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves,
+	all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery.
+	Where's your father?
+
+OPHELIA	At home, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the
+	fool no where but in's own house. Farewell.
+
+OPHELIA	O, help him, you sweet heavens!
+
+HAMLET	If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for
+	thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as
+	snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a
+	nunnery, go: farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs
+	marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough
+	what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go,
+	and quickly too. Farewell.
+
+OPHELIA	O heavenly powers, restore him!
+
+HAMLET	I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God
+	has given you one face, and you make yourselves
+	another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and
+	nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness
+	your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath
+	made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages:
+	those that are married already, all but one, shall
+	live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a
+	nunnery, go.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OPHELIA	O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!
+	The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword;
+	The expectancy and rose of the fair state,
+	The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
+	The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!
+	And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
+	That suck'd the honey of his music vows,
+	Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,
+	Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh;
+	That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth
+	Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me,
+	To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!
+
+	[Re-enter KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Love! his affections do not that way tend;
+	Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little,
+	Was not like madness. There's something in his soul,
+	O'er which his melancholy sits on brood;
+	And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose
+	Will be some danger: which for to prevent,
+	I have in quick determination
+	Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England,
+	For the demand of our neglected tribute
+	Haply the seas and countries different
+	With variable objects shall expel
+	This something-settled matter in his heart,
+	Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus
+	From fashion of himself. What think you on't?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	It shall do well: but yet do I believe
+	The origin and commencement of his grief
+	Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia!
+	You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said;
+	We heard it all. My lord, do as you please;
+	But, if you hold it fit, after the play
+	Let his queen mother all alone entreat him
+	To show his grief: let her be round with him;
+	And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear
+	Of all their conference. If she find him not,
+	To England send him, or confine him where
+	Your wisdom best shall think.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	It shall be so:
+	Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A hall in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter HAMLET and Players]
+
+HAMLET	Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to
+	you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it,
+	as many of your players do, I had as lief the
+	town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air
+	too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently;
+	for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say,
+	the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget
+	a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it
+	offends me to the soul to hear a robustious
+	periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to
+	very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who
+	for the most part are capable of nothing but
+	inexplicable dumbshows and noise: I would have such
+	a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it
+	out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it.
+
+First Player	I warrant your honour.
+
+HAMLET	Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion
+	be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the
+	word to the action; with this special o'erstep not
+	the modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is
+	from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the
+	first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the
+	mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature,
+	scorn her own image, and the very age and body of
+	the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone,
+	or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful
+	laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the
+	censure of the which one must in your allowance
+	o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be
+	players that I have seen play, and heard others
+	praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely,
+	that, neither having the accent of Christians nor
+	the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so
+	strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of
+	nature's journeymen had made men and not made them
+	well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
+
+First Player	I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us,
+	sir.
+
+HAMLET	O, reform it altogether. And let those that play
+	your clowns speak no more than is set down for them;
+	for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to
+	set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh
+	too; though, in the mean time, some necessary
+	question of the play be then to be considered:
+	that's villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition
+	in the fool that uses it. Go, make you ready.
+
+	[Exeunt Players]
+
+	[Enter POLONIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+	How now, my lord! I will the king hear this piece of work?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	And the queen too, and that presently.
+
+HAMLET	Bid the players make haste.
+
+	[Exit POLONIUS]
+
+	Will you two help to hasten them?
+
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	|
+	|  We will, my lord.
+GUILDENSTERN	|
+
+
+	[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+HAMLET	What ho! Horatio!
+
+	[Enter HORATIO]
+
+HORATIO	Here, sweet lord, at your service.
+
+HAMLET	Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man
+	As e'er my conversation coped withal.
+
+HORATIO	O, my dear lord,--
+
+HAMLET	                  Nay, do not think I flatter;
+	For what advancement may I hope from thee
+	That no revenue hast but thy good spirits,
+	To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd?
+	No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,
+	And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee
+	Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?
+	Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice
+	And could of men distinguish, her election
+	Hath seal'd thee for herself; for thou hast been
+	As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing,
+	A man that fortune's buffets and rewards
+	Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and blest are those
+	Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled,
+	That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger
+	To sound what stop she please. Give me that man
+	That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him
+	In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,
+	As I do thee.--Something too much of this.--
+	There is a play to-night before the king;
+	One scene of it comes near the circumstance
+	Which I have told thee of my father's death:
+	I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot,
+	Even with the very comment of thy soul
+	Observe mine uncle: if his occulted guilt
+	Do not itself unkennel in one speech,
+	It is a damned ghost that we have seen,
+	And my imaginations are as foul
+	As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note;
+	For I mine eyes will rivet to his face,
+	And after we will both our judgments join
+	In censure of his seeming.
+
+HORATIO	Well, my lord:
+	If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing,
+	And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft.
+
+HAMLET	They are coming to the play; I must be idle:
+	Get you a place.
+
+	[Danish march. A flourish. Enter KING CLAUDIUS,
+	QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ,
+	GUILDENSTERN, and others]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	How fares our cousin Hamlet?
+
+HAMLET	Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish: I eat
+	the air, promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words
+	are not mine.
+
+HAMLET	No, nor mine now.
+
+	[To POLONIUS]
+
+	My lord, you played once i' the university, you say?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	That did I, my lord; and was accounted a good actor.
+
+HAMLET	What did you enact?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	I did enact Julius Caesar: I was killed i' the
+	Capitol; Brutus killed me.
+
+HAMLET	It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf
+	there. Be the players ready?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.
+
+HAMLET	No, good mother, here's metal more attractive.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	[To KING CLAUDIUS]  O, ho! do you mark that?
+
+HAMLET	Lady, shall I lie in your lap?
+
+	[Lying down at OPHELIA's feet]
+
+OPHELIA	No, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	I mean, my head upon your lap?
+
+OPHELIA	Ay, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Do you think I meant country matters?
+
+OPHELIA	I think nothing, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs.
+
+OPHELIA	What is, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Nothing.
+
+OPHELIA	You are merry, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Who, I?
+
+OPHELIA	Ay, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	O God, your only jig-maker. What should a man do
+	but be merry? for, look you, how cheerfully my
+	mother looks, and my father died within these two hours.
+
+OPHELIA	Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for
+	I'll have a suit of sables. O heavens! die two
+	months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's
+	hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half
+	a year: but, by'r lady, he must build churches,
+	then; or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with
+	the hobby-horse, whose epitaph is 'For, O, for, O,
+	the hobby-horse is forgot.'
+
+	[Hautboys play. The dumb-show enters]
+
+	[Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen
+	embracing him, and he her. She kneels, and makes
+	show of protestation unto him. He takes her up,
+	and declines his head upon her neck: lays him down
+	upon a bank of flowers: she, seeing him asleep,
+	leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his
+	crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King's
+	ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King
+	dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner,
+	with some two or three Mutes, comes in again,
+	seeming to lament with her. The dead body is
+	carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with
+	gifts: she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but
+	in the end accepts his love]
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+OPHELIA	What means this, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief.
+
+OPHELIA	Belike this show imports the argument of the play.
+
+	[Enter Prologue]
+
+HAMLET	We shall know by this fellow: the players cannot
+	keep counsel; they'll tell all.
+
+OPHELIA	Will he tell us what this show meant?
+
+HAMLET	Ay, or any show that you'll show him: be not you
+	ashamed to show, he'll not shame to tell you what it means.
+
+OPHELIA	You are naught, you are naught: I'll mark the play.
+
+Prologue	     For us, and for our tragedy,
+	Here stooping to your clemency,
+	We beg your hearing patiently.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HAMLET	Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?
+
+OPHELIA	'Tis brief, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	As woman's love.
+
+	[Enter two Players, King and Queen]
+
+Player King	   Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round
+	Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground,
+	And thirty dozen moons with borrow'd sheen
+	About the world have times twelve thirties been,
+	Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands
+	Unite commutual in most sacred bands.
+
+Player Queen	   So many journeys may the sun and moon
+	Make us again count o'er ere love be done!
+	But, woe is me, you are so sick of late,
+	So far from cheer and from your former state,
+	That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust,
+	Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must:
+	For women's fear and love holds quantity;
+	In neither aught, or in extremity.
+	Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know;
+	And as my love is sized, my fear is so:
+	Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;
+	Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
+
+Player King	'Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too;
+	My operant powers their functions leave to do:
+	And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,
+	Honour'd, beloved; and haply one as kind
+	For husband shalt thou--
+
+Player Queen	O, confound the rest!
+	Such love must needs be treason in my breast:
+	In second husband let me be accurst!
+	None wed the second but who kill'd the first.
+
+HAMLET	[Aside]  Wormwood, wormwood.
+
+Player Queen	   The instances that second marriage move
+	Are base respects of thrift, but none of love:
+	A second time I kill my husband dead,
+	When second husband kisses me in bed.
+
+Player King	   I do believe you think what now you speak;
+	But what we do determine oft we break.
+	Purpose is but the slave to memory,
+	Of violent birth, but poor validity;
+	Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree;
+	But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be.
+	Most necessary 'tis that we forget
+	To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt:
+	What to ourselves in passion we propose,
+	The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
+	The violence of either grief or joy
+	Their own enactures with themselves destroy:
+	Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;
+	Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.
+	This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange
+	That even our loves should with our fortunes change;
+	For 'tis a question left us yet to prove,
+	Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.
+	The great man down, you mark his favourite flies;
+	The poor advanced makes friends of enemies.
+	And hitherto doth love on fortune tend;
+	For who not needs shall never lack a friend,
+	And who in want a hollow friend doth try,
+	Directly seasons him his enemy.
+	But, orderly to end where I begun,
+	Our wills and fates do so contrary run
+	That our devices still are overthrown;
+	Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own:
+	So think thou wilt no second husband wed;
+	But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.
+
+Player Queen	   Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light!
+	Sport and repose lock from me day and night!
+	To desperation turn my trust and hope!
+	An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope!
+	Each opposite that blanks the face of joy
+	Meet what I would have well and it destroy!
+	Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife,
+	If, once a widow, ever I be wife!
+
+HAMLET	If she should break it now!
+
+Player King	'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile;
+	My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile
+	The tedious day with sleep.
+
+	[Sleeps]
+
+Player Queen	Sleep rock thy brain,
+	And never come mischance between us twain!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HAMLET	Madam, how like you this play?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	The lady protests too much, methinks.
+
+HAMLET	O, but she'll keep her word.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in 't?
+
+HAMLET	No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence
+	i' the world.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	What do you call the play?
+
+HAMLET	The Mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play
+	is the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago is
+	the duke's name; his wife, Baptista: you shall see
+	anon; 'tis a knavish piece of work: but what o'
+	that? your majesty and we that have free souls, it
+	touches us not: let the galled jade wince, our
+	withers are unwrung.
+
+	[Enter LUCIANUS]
+
+	This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king.
+
+OPHELIA	You are as good as a chorus, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	I could interpret between you and your love, if I
+	could see the puppets dallying.
+
+OPHELIA	You are keen, my lord, you are keen.
+
+HAMLET	It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.
+
+OPHELIA	Still better, and worse.
+
+HAMLET	So you must take your husbands. Begin, murderer;
+	pox, leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come:
+	'the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.'
+
+LUCIANUS	   Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing;
+	Confederate season, else no creature seeing;
+	Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,
+	With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,
+	Thy natural magic and dire property,
+	On wholesome life usurp immediately.
+
+	[Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears]
+
+HAMLET	He poisons him i' the garden for's estate. His
+	name's Gonzago: the story is extant, and writ in
+	choice Italian: you shall see anon how the murderer
+	gets the love of Gonzago's wife.
+
+OPHELIA	The king rises.
+
+HAMLET	What, frighted with false fire!
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	How fares my lord?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Give o'er the play.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Give me some light: away!
+
+All	Lights, lights, lights!
+
+	[Exeunt all but HAMLET and HORATIO]
+
+HAMLET	     Why, let the stricken deer go weep,
+	The hart ungalled play;
+	For some must watch, while some must sleep:
+	So runs the world away.
+	Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers-- if
+	the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me--with two
+	Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a
+	fellowship in a cry of players, sir?
+
+HORATIO	Half a share.
+
+HAMLET	A whole one, I.
+	For thou dost know, O Damon dear,
+	This realm dismantled was
+	Of Jove himself; and now reigns here
+	A very, very--pajock.
+
+HORATIO	You might have rhymed.
+
+HAMLET	O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a
+	thousand pound. Didst perceive?
+
+HORATIO	Very well, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Upon the talk of the poisoning?
+
+HORATIO	I did very well note him.
+
+HAMLET	Ah, ha! Come, some music! come, the recorders!
+	For if the king like not the comedy,
+	Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy.
+	Come, some music!
+
+	[Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+GUILDENSTERN	Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.
+
+HAMLET	Sir, a whole history.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	The king, sir,--
+
+HAMLET	Ay, sir, what of him?
+
+GUILDENSTERN	Is in his retirement marvellous distempered.
+
+HAMLET	With drink, sir?
+
+GUILDENSTERN	No, my lord, rather with choler.
+
+HAMLET	Your wisdom should show itself more richer to
+	signify this to his doctor; for, for me to put him
+	to his purgation would perhaps plunge him into far
+	more choler.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame and
+	start not so wildly from my affair.
+
+HAMLET	I am tame, sir: pronounce.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	The queen, your mother, in most great affliction of
+	spirit, hath sent me to you.
+
+HAMLET	You are welcome.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right
+	breed. If it shall please you to make me a
+	wholesome answer, I will do your mother's
+	commandment: if not, your pardon and my return
+	shall be the end of my business.
+
+HAMLET	Sir, I cannot.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	What, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseased: but,
+	sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command;
+	or, rather, as you say, my mother: therefore no
+	more, but to the matter: my mother, you say,--
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Then thus she says; your behavior hath struck her
+	into amazement and admiration.
+
+HAMLET	O wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother! But
+	is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's
+	admiration? Impart.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	She desires to speak with you in her closet, ere you
+	go to bed.
+
+HAMLET	We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have
+	you any further trade with us?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	My lord, you once did love me.
+
+HAMLET	So I do still, by these pickers and stealers.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? you
+	do, surely, bar the door upon your own liberty, if
+	you deny your griefs to your friend.
+
+HAMLET	Sir, I lack advancement.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	How can that be, when you have the voice of the king
+	himself for your succession in Denmark?
+
+HAMLET	Ay, but sir, 'While the grass grows,'--the proverb
+	is something musty.
+
+	[Re-enter Players with recorders]
+
+	O, the recorders! let me see one. To withdraw with
+	you:--why do you go about to recover the wind of me,
+	as if you would drive me into a toil?
+
+GUILDENSTERN	O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too
+	unmannerly.
+
+HAMLET	I do not well understand that. Will you play upon
+	this pipe?
+
+GUILDENSTERN	My lord, I cannot.
+
+HAMLET	I pray you.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	Believe me, I cannot.
+
+HAMLET	I do beseech you.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	I know no touch of it, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	'Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with
+	your lingers and thumb, give it breath with your
+	mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music.
+	Look you, these are the stops.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	But these cannot I command to any utterance of
+	harmony; I have not the skill.
+
+HAMLET	Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of
+	me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know
+	my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my
+	mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to
+	the top of my compass: and there is much music,
+	excellent voice, in this little organ; yet cannot
+	you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am
+	easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what
+	instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you
+	cannot play upon me.
+
+	[Enter POLONIUS]
+
+	God bless you, sir!
+
+LORD POLONIUS	My lord, the queen would speak with you, and
+	presently.
+
+HAMLET	Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed.
+
+HAMLET	Methinks it is like a weasel.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	It is backed like a weasel.
+
+HAMLET	Or like a whale?
+
+LORD POLONIUS	Very like a whale.
+
+HAMLET	Then I will come to my mother by and by. They fool
+	me to the top of my bent. I will come by and by.
+
+LORD POLONIUS	I will say so.
+
+HAMLET	By and by is easily said.
+
+	[Exit POLONIUS]
+
+	Leave me, friends.
+
+	[Exeunt all but HAMLET]
+
+	Tis now the very witching time of night,
+	When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out
+	Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood,
+	And do such bitter business as the day
+	Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother.
+	O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever
+	The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom:
+	Let me be cruel, not unnatural:
+	I will speak daggers to her, but use none;
+	My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites;
+	How in my words soever she be shent,
+	To give them seals never, my soul, consent!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter KING CLAUDIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	I like him not, nor stands it safe with us
+	To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you;
+	I your commission will forthwith dispatch,
+	And he to England shall along with you:
+	The terms of our estate may not endure
+	Hazard so dangerous as doth hourly grow
+	Out of his lunacies.
+
+GUILDENSTERN	We will ourselves provide:
+	Most holy and religious fear it is
+	To keep those many many bodies safe
+	That live and feed upon your majesty.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	The single and peculiar life is bound,
+	With all the strength and armour of the mind,
+	To keep itself from noyance; but much more
+	That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest
+	The lives of many. The cease of majesty
+	Dies not alone; but, like a gulf, doth draw
+	What's near it with it: it is a massy wheel,
+	Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount,
+	To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things
+	Are mortised and adjoin'd; which, when it falls,
+	Each small annexment, petty consequence,
+	Attends the boisterous ruin. Never alone
+	Did the king sigh, but with a general groan.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage;
+	For we will fetters put upon this fear,
+	Which now goes too free-footed.
+
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	|
+	|	We will haste us.
+GUILDENSTERN	|
+
+
+	[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+	[Enter POLONIUS]
+
+LORD POLONIUS	My lord, he's going to his mother's closet:
+	Behind the arras I'll convey myself,
+	To hear the process; and warrant she'll tax him home:
+	And, as you said, and wisely was it said,
+	'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother,
+	Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear
+	The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege:
+	I'll call upon you ere you go to bed,
+	And tell you what I know.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Thanks, dear my lord.
+
+	[Exit POLONIUS]
+
+	O, my offence is rank it smells to heaven;
+	It hath the primal eldest curse upon't,
+	A brother's murder. Pray can I not,
+	Though inclination be as sharp as will:
+	My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent;
+	And, like a man to double business bound,
+	I stand in pause where I shall first begin,
+	And both neglect. What if this cursed hand
+	Were thicker than itself with brother's blood,
+	Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens
+	To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy
+	But to confront the visage of offence?
+	And what's in prayer but this two-fold force,
+	To be forestalled ere we come to fall,
+	Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up;
+	My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer
+	Can serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murder'?
+	That cannot be; since I am still possess'd
+	Of those effects for which I did the murder,
+	My crown, mine own ambition and my queen.
+	May one be pardon'd and retain the offence?
+	In the corrupted currents of this world
+	Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice,
+	And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself
+	Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above;
+	There is no shuffling, there the action lies
+	In his true nature; and we ourselves compell'd,
+	Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
+	To give in evidence. What then? what rests?
+	Try what repentance can: what can it not?
+	Yet what can it when one can not repent?
+	O wretched state! O bosom black as death!
+	O limed soul, that, struggling to be free,
+	Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay!
+	Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel,
+	Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe!
+	All may be well.
+
+	[Retires and kneels]
+
+	[Enter HAMLET]
+
+HAMLET	Now might I do it pat, now he is praying;
+	And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven;
+	And so am I revenged. That would be scann'd:
+	A villain kills my father; and for that,
+	I, his sole son, do this same villain send
+	To heaven.
+	O, this is hire and salary, not revenge.
+	He took my father grossly, full of bread;
+	With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;
+	And how his audit stands who knows save heaven?
+	But in our circumstance and course of thought,
+	'Tis heavy with him: and am I then revenged,
+	To take him in the purging of his soul,
+	When he is fit and season'd for his passage?
+	No!
+	Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent:
+	When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage,
+	Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed;
+	At gaming, swearing, or about some act
+	That has no relish of salvation in't;
+	Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,
+	And that his soul may be as damn'd and black
+	As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays:
+	This physic but prolongs thy sickly days.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	[Rising]  My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
+	Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The Queen's closet.
+
+
+	[Enter QUEEN MARGARET and POLONIUS]
+
+LORD POLONIUS	He will come straight. Look you lay home to him:
+	Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,
+	And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between
+	Much heat and him. I'll sconce me even here.
+	Pray you, be round with him.
+
+HAMLET	[Within]  Mother, mother, mother!
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	I'll warrant you,
+	Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming.
+
+	[POLONIUS hides behind the arras]
+
+	[Enter HAMLET]
+
+HAMLET	Now, mother, what's the matter?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.
+
+HAMLET	Mother, you have my father much offended.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.
+
+HAMLET	Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Why, how now, Hamlet!
+
+HAMLET	What's the matter now?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Have you forgot me?
+
+HAMLET	No, by the rood, not so:
+	You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife;
+	And--would it were not so!--you are my mother.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak.
+
+HAMLET	Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge;
+	You go not till I set you up a glass
+	Where you may see the inmost part of you.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me?
+	Help, help, ho!
+
+LORD POLONIUS	[Behind]  What, ho! help, help, help!
+
+HAMLET	[Drawing]  How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead!
+
+	[Makes a pass through the arras]
+
+LORD POLONIUS	[Behind]  O, I am slain!
+
+	[Falls and dies]
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	O me, what hast thou done?
+
+HAMLET	Nay, I know not:
+	Is it the king?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
+
+HAMLET	A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother,
+	As kill a king, and marry with his brother.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	As kill a king!
+
+HAMLET	                  Ay, lady, 'twas my word.
+
+	[Lifts up the array and discovers POLONIUS]
+
+	Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!
+	I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune;
+	Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.
+	Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down,
+	And let me wring your heart; for so I shall,
+	If it be made of penetrable stuff,
+	If damned custom have not brass'd it so
+	That it is proof and bulwark against sense.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue
+	In noise so rude against me?
+
+HAMLET	Such an act
+	That blurs the grace and blush of modesty,
+	Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose
+	From the fair forehead of an innocent love
+	And sets a blister there, makes marriage-vows
+	As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed
+	As from the body of contraction plucks
+	The very soul, and sweet religion makes
+	A rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow:
+	Yea, this solidity and compound mass,
+	With tristful visage, as against the doom,
+	Is thought-sick at the act.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Ay me, what act,
+	That roars so loud, and thunders in the index?
+
+HAMLET	Look here, upon this picture, and on this,
+	The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.
+	See, what a grace was seated on this brow;
+	Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;
+	An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;
+	A station like the herald Mercury
+	New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;
+	A combination and a form indeed,
+	Where every god did seem to set his seal,
+	To give the world assurance of a man:
+	This was your husband. Look you now, what follows:
+	Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear,
+	Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?
+	Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,
+	And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes?
+	You cannot call it love; for at your age
+	The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,
+	And waits upon the judgment: and what judgment
+	Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have,
+	Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense
+	Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err,
+	Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd
+	But it reserved some quantity of choice,
+	To serve in such a difference. What devil was't
+	That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?
+	Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
+	Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,
+	Or but a sickly part of one true sense
+	Could not so mope.
+	O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,
+	If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,
+	To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,
+	And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shame
+	When the compulsive ardour gives the charge,
+	Since frost itself as actively doth burn
+	And reason panders will.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	O Hamlet, speak no more:
+	Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;
+	And there I see such black and grained spots
+	As will not leave their tinct.
+
+HAMLET	Nay, but to live
+	In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,
+	Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love
+	Over the nasty sty,--
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	O, speak to me no more;
+	These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears;
+	No more, sweet Hamlet!
+
+HAMLET	A murderer and a villain;
+	A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
+	Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings;
+	A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,
+	That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,
+	And put it in his pocket!
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	No more!
+
+HAMLET	A king of shreds and patches,--
+
+	[Enter Ghost]
+
+	Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings,
+	You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Alas, he's mad!
+
+HAMLET	Do you not come your tardy son to chide,
+	That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by
+	The important acting of your dread command? O, say!
+
+Ghost	Do not forget: this visitation
+	Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
+	But, look, amazement on thy mother sits:
+	O, step between her and her fighting soul:
+	Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works:
+	Speak to her, Hamlet.
+
+HAMLET	How is it with you, lady?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Alas, how is't with you,
+	That you do bend your eye on vacancy
+	And with the incorporal air do hold discourse?
+	Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;
+	And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm,
+	Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,
+	Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son,
+	Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper
+	Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?
+
+HAMLET	On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares!
+	His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,
+	Would make them capable. Do not look upon me;
+	Lest with this piteous action you convert
+	My stern effects: then what I have to do
+	Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	To whom do you speak this?
+
+HAMLET	Do you see nothing there?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.
+
+HAMLET	Nor did you nothing hear?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	No, nothing but ourselves.
+
+HAMLET	Why, look you there! look, how it steals away!
+	My father, in his habit as he lived!
+	Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal!
+
+	[Exit Ghost]
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	This the very coinage of your brain:
+	This bodiless creation ecstasy
+	Is very cunning in.
+
+HAMLET	Ecstasy!
+	My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,
+	And makes as healthful music: it is not madness
+	That I have utter'd: bring me to the test,
+	And I the matter will re-word; which madness
+	Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,
+	Lay not that mattering unction to your soul,
+	That not your trespass, but my madness speaks:
+	It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
+	Whilst rank corruption, mining all within,
+	Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;
+	Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;
+	And do not spread the compost on the weeds,
+	To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue;
+	For in the fatness of these pursy times
+	Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg,
+	Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.
+
+HAMLET	O, throw away the worser part of it,
+	And live the purer with the other half.
+	Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed;
+	Assume a virtue, if you have it not.
+	That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat,
+	Of habits devil, is angel yet in this,
+	That to the use of actions fair and good
+	He likewise gives a frock or livery,
+	That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night,
+	And that shall lend a kind of easiness
+	To the next abstinence: the next more easy;
+	For use almost can change the stamp of nature,
+	And either [         ] the devil, or throw him out
+	With wondrous potency. Once more, good night:
+	And when you are desirous to be bless'd,
+	I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord,
+
+	[Pointing to POLONIUS]
+
+	I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so,
+	To punish me with this and this with me,
+	That I must be their scourge and minister.
+	I will bestow him, and will answer well
+	The death I gave him. So, again, good night.
+	I must be cruel, only to be kind:
+	Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.
+	One word more, good lady.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	What shall I do?
+
+HAMLET	Not this, by no means, that I bid you do:
+	Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed;
+	Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse;
+	And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses,
+	Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,
+	Make you to ravel all this matter out,
+	That I essentially am not in madness,
+	But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know;
+	For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,
+	Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib,
+	Such dear concernings hide? who would do so?
+	No, in despite of sense and secrecy,
+	Unpeg the basket on the house's top.
+	Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape,
+	To try conclusions, in the basket creep,
+	And break your own neck down.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Be thou assured, if words be made of breath,
+	And breath of life, I have no life to breathe
+	What thou hast said to me.
+
+HAMLET	I must to England; you know that?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Alack,
+	I had forgot: 'tis so concluded on.
+
+HAMLET	There's letters seal'd: and my two schoolfellows,
+	Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd,
+	They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way,
+	And marshal me to knavery. Let it work;
+	For 'tis the sport to have the engineer
+	Hoist with his own petard: and 't shall go hard
+	But I will delve one yard below their mines,
+	And blow them at the moon: O, 'tis most sweet,
+	When in one line two crafts directly meet.
+	This man shall set me packing:
+	I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room.
+	Mother, good night. Indeed this counsellor
+	Is now most still, most secret and most grave,
+	Who was in life a foolish prating knave.
+	Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.
+	Good night, mother.
+
+	[Exeunt severally; HAMLET dragging in POLONIUS]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ,
+	and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	There's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves:
+	You must translate: 'tis fit we understand them.
+	Where is your son?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Bestow this place on us a little while.
+
+	[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+	Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night!
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Mad as the sea and wind, when both contend
+	Which is the mightier: in his lawless fit,
+	Behind the arras hearing something stir,
+	Whips out his rapier, cries, 'A rat, a rat!'
+	And, in this brainish apprehension, kills
+	The unseen good old man.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	O heavy deed!
+	It had been so with us, had we been there:
+	His liberty is full of threats to all;
+	To you yourself, to us, to every one.
+	Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer'd?
+	It will be laid to us, whose providence
+	Should have kept short, restrain'd and out of haunt,
+	This mad young man: but so much was our love,
+	We would not understand what was most fit;
+	But, like the owner of a foul disease,
+	To keep it from divulging, let it feed
+	Even on the pith of Life. Where is he gone?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	To draw apart the body he hath kill'd:
+	O'er whom his very madness, like some ore
+	Among a mineral of metals base,
+	Shows itself pure; he weeps for what is done.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	O Gertrude, come away!
+	The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch,
+	But we will ship him hence: and this vile deed
+	We must, with all our majesty and skill,
+	Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern!
+
+	[Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+	Friends both, go join you with some further aid:
+	Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain,
+	And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him:
+	Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body
+	Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this.
+
+	[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+	Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends;
+	And let them know, both what we mean to do,
+	And what's untimely done [                ]
+	Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter,
+	As level as the cannon to his blank,
+	Transports his poison'd shot, may miss our name,
+	And hit the woundless air. O, come away!
+	My soul is full of discord and dismay.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Another room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter HAMLET]
+
+HAMLET	Safely stowed.
+
+
+ROSENCRANTZ:	|
+	|   [Within]  Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!
+GUILDENSTERN:	|
+
+
+HAMLET	What noise? who calls on Hamlet?
+	O, here they come.
+
+	[Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	What have you done, my lord, with the dead body?
+
+HAMLET	Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence
+	And bear it to the chapel.
+
+HAMLET	Do not believe it.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Believe what?
+
+HAMLET	That I can keep your counsel and not mine own.
+	Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! what
+	replication should be made by the son of a king?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Take you me for a sponge, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Ay, sir, that soaks up the king's countenance, his
+	rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the
+	king best service in the end: he keeps them, like
+	an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to
+	be last swallowed: when he needs what you have
+	gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you
+	shall be dry again.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	I understand you not, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a
+	foolish ear.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go
+	with us to the king.
+
+HAMLET	The body is with the king, but the king is not with
+	the body. The king is a thing--
+
+GUILDENSTERN	A thing, my lord!
+
+HAMLET	Of nothing: bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Another room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter KING CLAUDIUS, attended]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	I have sent to seek him, and to find the body.
+	How dangerous is it that this man goes loose!
+	Yet must not we put the strong law on him:
+	He's loved of the distracted multitude,
+	Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes;
+	And where tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd,
+	But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even,
+	This sudden sending him away must seem
+	Deliberate pause: diseases desperate grown
+	By desperate appliance are relieved,
+	Or not at all.
+
+	[Enter ROSENCRANTZ]
+
+	How now! what hath befall'n?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Where the dead body is bestow'd, my lord,
+	We cannot get from him.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	But where is he?
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Bring him before us.
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my lord.
+
+	[Enter HAMLET and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?
+
+HAMLET	At supper.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	At supper! where?
+
+HAMLET	Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certain
+	convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your
+	worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all
+	creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for
+	maggots: your fat king and your lean beggar is but
+	variable service, two dishes, but to one table:
+	that's the end.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Alas, alas!
+
+HAMLET	A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a
+	king, and cat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	What dost you mean by this?
+
+HAMLET	Nothing but to show you how a king may go a
+	progress through the guts of a beggar.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Where is Polonius?
+
+HAMLET	In heaven; send hither to see: if your messenger
+	find him not there, seek him i' the other place
+	yourself. But indeed, if you find him not within
+	this month, you shall nose him as you go up the
+	stairs into the lobby.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Go seek him there.
+
+	[To some Attendants]
+
+HAMLET	He will stay till ye come.
+
+	[Exeunt Attendants]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,--
+	Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve
+	For that which thou hast done,--must send thee hence
+	With fiery quickness: therefore prepare thyself;
+	The bark is ready, and the wind at help,
+	The associates tend, and every thing is bent
+	For England.
+
+HAMLET	                  For England!
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Ay, Hamlet.
+
+HAMLET	Good.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes.
+
+HAMLET	I see a cherub that sees them. But, come; for
+	England! Farewell, dear mother.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Thy loving father, Hamlet.
+
+HAMLET	My mother: father and mother is man and wife; man
+	and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard;
+	Delay it not; I'll have him hence to-night:
+	Away! for every thing is seal'd and done
+	That else leans on the affair: pray you, make haste.
+
+	[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN]
+
+	And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught--
+	As my great power thereof may give thee sense,
+	Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red
+	After the Danish sword, and thy free awe
+	Pays homage to us--thou mayst not coldly set
+	Our sovereign process; which imports at full,
+	By letters congruing to that effect,
+	The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;
+	For like the hectic in my blood he rages,
+	And thou must cure me: till I know 'tis done,
+	Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A plain in Denmark.
+
+
+	[Enter FORTINBRAS, a Captain, and Soldiers, marching]
+
+PRINCE FORTINBRAS	Go, captain, from me greet the Danish king;
+	Tell him that, by his licence, Fortinbras
+	Craves the conveyance of a promised march
+	Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous.
+	If that his majesty would aught with us,
+	We shall express our duty in his eye;
+	And let him know so.
+
+Captain	I will do't, my lord.
+
+PRINCE FORTINBRAS	Go softly on.
+
+	[Exeunt FORTINBRAS and Soldiers]
+
+	[Enter HAMLET, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others]
+
+HAMLET	Good sir, whose powers are these?
+
+Captain	They are of Norway, sir.
+
+HAMLET	How purposed, sir, I pray you?
+
+Captain	Against some part of Poland.
+
+HAMLET	Who commands them, sir?
+
+Captain	The nephews to old Norway, Fortinbras.
+
+HAMLET	Goes it against the main of Poland, sir,
+	Or for some frontier?
+
+Captain	Truly to speak, and with no addition,
+	We go to gain a little patch of ground
+	That hath in it no profit but the name.
+	To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it;
+	Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole
+	A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee.
+
+HAMLET	Why, then the Polack never will defend it.
+
+Captain	Yes, it is already garrison'd.
+
+HAMLET	Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats
+	Will not debate the question of this straw:
+	This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace,
+	That inward breaks, and shows no cause without
+	Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir.
+
+Captain	God be wi' you, sir.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ROSENCRANTZ	Wilt please you go, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	I'll be with you straight go a little before.
+
+	[Exeunt all except HAMLET]
+
+	How all occasions do inform against me,
+	And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
+	If his chief good and market of his time
+	Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
+	Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,
+	Looking before and after, gave us not
+	That capability and god-like reason
+	To fust in us unused. Now, whether it be
+	Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple
+	Of thinking too precisely on the event,
+	A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom
+	And ever three parts coward, I do not know
+	Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do;'
+	Sith I have cause and will and strength and means
+	To do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me:
+	Witness this army of such mass and charge
+	Led by a delicate and tender prince,
+	Whose spirit with divine ambition puff'd
+	Makes mouths at the invisible event,
+	Exposing what is mortal and unsure
+	To all that fortune, death and danger dare,
+	Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great
+	Is not to stir without great argument,
+	But greatly to find quarrel in a straw
+	When honour's at the stake. How stand I then,
+	That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,
+	Excitements of my reason and my blood,
+	And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I see
+	The imminent death of twenty thousand men,
+	That, for a fantasy and trick of fame,
+	Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot
+	Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
+	Which is not tomb enough and continent
+	To hide the slain? O, from this time forth,
+	My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE V	Elsinore. A room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter QUEEN GERTRUDE, HORATIO, and a Gentleman]
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	I will not speak with her.
+
+Gentleman	She is importunate, indeed distract:
+	Her mood will needs be pitied.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	What would she have?
+
+Gentleman	She speaks much of her father; says she hears
+	There's tricks i' the world; and hems, and beats her heart;
+	Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt,
+	That carry but half sense: her speech is nothing,
+	Yet the unshaped use of it doth move
+	The hearers to collection; they aim at it,
+	And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts;
+	Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures
+	yield them,
+	Indeed would make one think there might be thought,
+	Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.
+
+HORATIO	'Twere good she were spoken with; for she may strew
+	Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Let her come in.
+
+	[Exit HORATIO]
+
+	To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is,
+	Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss:
+	So full of artless jealousy is guilt,
+	It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
+
+	[Re-enter HORATIO, with OPHELIA]
+
+OPHELIA	Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	How now, Ophelia!
+
+OPHELIA	[Sings]
+
+	How should I your true love know
+	From another one?
+	By his cockle hat and staff,
+	And his sandal shoon.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?
+
+OPHELIA	Say you? nay, pray you, mark.
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	He is dead and gone, lady,
+	He is dead and gone;
+	At his head a grass-green turf,
+	At his heels a stone.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Nay, but, Ophelia,--
+
+OPHELIA	Pray you, mark.
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	White his shroud as the mountain snow,--
+
+	[Enter KING CLAUDIUS]
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Alas, look here, my lord.
+
+OPHELIA	[Sings]
+
+	Larded with sweet flowers
+	Which bewept to the grave did go
+	With true-love showers.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	How do you, pretty lady?
+
+OPHELIA	Well, God 'ild you! They say the owl was a baker's
+	daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not
+	what we may be. God be at your table!
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Conceit upon her father.
+
+OPHELIA	Pray you, let's have no words of this; but when they
+	ask you what it means, say you this:
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,
+	All in the morning betime,
+	And I a maid at your window,
+	To be your Valentine.
+	Then up he rose, and donn'd his clothes,
+	And dupp'd the chamber-door;
+	Let in the maid, that out a maid
+	Never departed more.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Pretty Ophelia!
+
+OPHELIA	Indeed, la, without an oath, I'll make an end on't:
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	By Gis and by Saint Charity,
+	Alack, and fie for shame!
+	Young men will do't, if they come to't;
+	By cock, they are to blame.
+	Quoth she, before you tumbled me,
+	You promised me to wed.
+	So would I ha' done, by yonder sun,
+	An thou hadst not come to my bed.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	How long hath she been thus?
+
+OPHELIA	I hope all will be well. We must be patient: but I
+	cannot choose but weep, to think they should lay him
+	i' the cold ground. My brother shall know of it:
+	and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my
+	coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies;
+	good night, good night.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Follow her close; give her good watch,
+	I pray you.
+
+	[Exit HORATIO]
+
+	O, this is the poison of deep grief; it springs
+	All from her father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude,
+	When sorrows come, they come not single spies
+	But in battalions. First, her father slain:
+	Next, your son gone; and he most violent author
+	Of his own just remove: the people muddied,
+	Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers,
+	For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly,
+	In hugger-mugger to inter him: poor Ophelia
+	Divided from herself and her fair judgment,
+	Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts:
+	Last, and as much containing as all these,
+	Her brother is in secret come from France;
+	Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
+	And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
+	With pestilent speeches of his father's death;
+	Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,
+	Will nothing stick our person to arraign
+	In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,
+	Like to a murdering-piece, in many places
+	Gives me superfluous death.
+
+	[A noise within]
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Alack, what noise is this?
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door.
+
+	[Enter another Gentleman]
+
+	What is the matter?
+
+Gentleman	Save yourself, my lord:
+	The ocean, overpeering of his list,
+	Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste
+	Than young Laertes, in a riotous head,
+	O'erbears your officers. The rabble call him lord;
+	And, as the world were now but to begin,
+	Antiquity forgot, custom not known,
+	The ratifiers and props of every word,
+	They cry 'Choose we: Laertes shall be king:'
+	Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds:
+	'Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!'
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	How cheerfully on the false trail they cry!
+	O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs!
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	The doors are broke.
+
+	[Noise within]
+
+	[Enter LAERTES, armed; Danes following]
+
+LAERTES	Where is this king? Sirs, stand you all without.
+
+Danes	No, let's come in.
+
+LAERTES	                  I pray you, give me leave.
+
+Danes	We will, we will.
+
+	[They retire without the door]
+
+LAERTES	I thank you: keep the door. O thou vile king,
+	Give me my father!
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	                  Calmly, good Laertes.
+
+LAERTES	That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard,
+	Cries cuckold to my father, brands the harlot
+	Even here, between the chaste unsmirched brow
+	Of my true mother.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	                  What is the cause, Laertes,
+	That thy rebellion looks so giant-like?
+	Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our person:
+	There's such divinity doth hedge a king,
+	That treason can but peep to what it would,
+	Acts little of his will. Tell me, Laertes,
+	Why thou art thus incensed. Let him go, Gertrude.
+	Speak, man.
+
+LAERTES	Where is my father?
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Dead.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	But not by him.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Let him demand his fill.
+
+LAERTES	How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with:
+	To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil!
+	Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit!
+	I dare damnation. To this point I stand,
+	That both the worlds I give to negligence,
+	Let come what comes; only I'll be revenged
+	Most thoroughly for my father.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Who shall stay you?
+
+LAERTES	My will, not all the world:
+	And for my means, I'll husband them so well,
+	They shall go far with little.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Good Laertes,
+	If you desire to know the certainty
+	Of your dear father's death, is't writ in your revenge,
+	That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and foe,
+	Winner and loser?
+
+LAERTES	None but his enemies.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Will you know them then?
+
+LAERTES	To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms;
+	And like the kind life-rendering pelican,
+	Repast them with my blood.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Why, now you speak
+	Like a good child and a true gentleman.
+	That I am guiltless of your father's death,
+	And am most sensible in grief for it,
+	It shall as level to your judgment pierce
+	As day does to your eye.
+
+Danes	[Within]                Let her come in.
+
+LAERTES	How now! what noise is that?
+
+	[Re-enter OPHELIA]
+
+	O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt,
+	Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!
+	By heaven, thy madness shall be paid by weight,
+	Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May!
+	Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!
+	O heavens! is't possible, a young maid's wits
+	Should be as moral as an old man's life?
+	Nature is fine in love, and where 'tis fine,
+	It sends some precious instance of itself
+	After the thing it loves.
+
+OPHELIA	[Sings]
+
+	They bore him barefaced on the bier;
+	Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny;
+	And in his grave rain'd many a tear:--
+	Fare you well, my dove!
+
+LAERTES	Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,
+	It could not move thus.
+
+OPHELIA	[Sings]
+
+	You must sing a-down a-down,
+	An you call him a-down-a.
+	O, how the wheel becomes it! It is the false
+	steward, that stole his master's daughter.
+
+LAERTES	This nothing's more than matter.
+
+OPHELIA	There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray,
+	love, remember: and there is pansies. that's for thoughts.
+
+LAERTES	A document in madness, thoughts and remembrance fitted.
+
+OPHELIA	There's fennel for you, and columbines: there's rue
+	for you; and here's some for me: we may call it
+	herb-grace o' Sundays: O you must wear your rue with
+	a difference. There's a daisy: I would give you
+	some violets, but they withered all when my father
+	died: they say he made a good end,--
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.
+
+LAERTES	Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself,
+	She turns to favour and to prettiness.
+
+OPHELIA	[Sings]
+
+	And will he not come again?
+	And will he not come again?
+	No, no, he is dead:
+	Go to thy death-bed:
+	He never will come again.
+
+	His beard was as white as snow,
+	All flaxen was his poll:
+	He is gone, he is gone,
+	And we cast away moan:
+	God ha' mercy on his soul!
+
+	And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God be wi' ye.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LAERTES	Do you see this, O God?
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Laertes, I must commune with your grief,
+	Or you deny me right. Go but apart,
+	Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will.
+	And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me:
+	If by direct or by collateral hand
+	They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give,
+	Our crown, our life, and all that we can ours,
+	To you in satisfaction; but if not,
+	Be you content to lend your patience to us,
+	And we shall jointly labour with your soul
+	To give it due content.
+
+LAERTES	Let this be so;
+	His means of death, his obscure funeral--
+	No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones,
+	No noble rite nor formal ostentation--
+	Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth,
+	That I must call't in question.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	So you shall;
+	And where the offence is let the great axe fall.
+	I pray you, go with me.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Another room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter HORATIO and a Servant]
+
+HORATIO	What are they that would speak with me?
+
+Servant	Sailors, sir: they say they have letters for you.
+
+HORATIO	Let them come in.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+	I do not know from what part of the world
+	I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.
+
+	[Enter Sailors]
+
+First Sailor	God bless you, sir.
+
+HORATIO	Let him bless thee too.
+
+First Sailor	He shall, sir, an't please him. There's a letter for
+	you, sir; it comes from the ambassador that was
+	bound for England; if your name be Horatio, as I am
+	let to know it is.
+
+HORATIO	[Reads]  'Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked
+	this, give these fellows some means to the king:
+	they have letters for him. Ere we were two days old
+	at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us
+	chase. Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on
+	a compelled valour, and in the grapple I boarded
+	them: on the instant they got clear of our ship; so
+	I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with
+	me like thieves of mercy: but they knew what they
+	did; I am to do a good turn for them. Let the king
+	have the letters I have sent; and repair thou to me
+	with as much speed as thou wouldst fly death. I
+	have words to speak in thine ear will make thee
+	dumb; yet are they much too light for the bore of
+	the matter. These good fellows will bring thee
+	where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their
+	course for England: of them I have much to tell
+	thee. Farewell.
+	'He that thou knowest thine, HAMLET.'
+	Come, I will make you way for these your letters;
+	And do't the speedier, that you may direct me
+	To him from whom you brought them.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE VII	Another room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter KING CLAUDIUS and LAERTES]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Now must your conscience my acquaintance seal,
+	And you must put me in your heart for friend,
+	Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,
+	That he which hath your noble father slain
+	Pursued my life.
+
+LAERTES	                  It well appears: but tell me
+	Why you proceeded not against these feats,
+	So crimeful and so capital in nature,
+	As by your safety, wisdom, all things else,
+	You mainly were stirr'd up.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	O, for two special reasons;
+	Which may to you, perhaps, seem much unsinew'd,
+	But yet to me they are strong. The queen his mother
+	Lives almost by his looks; and for myself--
+	My virtue or my plague, be it either which--
+	She's so conjunctive to my life and soul,
+	That, as the star moves not but in his sphere,
+	I could not but by her. The other motive,
+	Why to a public count I might not go,
+	Is the great love the general gender bear him;
+	Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,
+	Would, like the spring that turneth wood to stone,
+	Convert his gyves to graces; so that my arrows,
+	Too slightly timber'd for so loud a wind,
+	Would have reverted to my bow again,
+	And not where I had aim'd them.
+
+LAERTES	And so have I a noble father lost;
+	A sister driven into desperate terms,
+	Whose worth, if praises may go back again,
+	Stood challenger on mount of all the age
+	For her perfections: but my revenge will come.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Break not your sleeps for that: you must not think
+	That we are made of stuff so flat and dull
+	That we can let our beard be shook with danger
+	And think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more:
+	I loved your father, and we love ourself;
+	And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine--
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+	How now! what news?
+
+Messenger	Letters, my lord, from Hamlet:
+	This to your majesty; this to the queen.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	From Hamlet! who brought them?
+
+Messenger	Sailors, my lord, they say; I saw them not:
+	They were given me by Claudio; he received them
+	Of him that brought them.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Laertes, you shall hear them. Leave us.
+
+	[Exit Messenger]
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'High and mighty, You shall know I am set naked on
+	your kingdom. To-morrow shall I beg leave to see
+	your kingly eyes: when I shall, first asking your
+	pardon thereunto, recount the occasion of my sudden
+	and more strange return.                  'HAMLET.'
+	What should this mean? Are all the rest come back?
+	Or is it some abuse, and no such thing?
+
+LAERTES	Know you the hand?
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	'Tis Hamlets character. 'Naked!
+	And in a postscript here, he says 'alone.'
+	Can you advise me?
+
+LAERTES	I'm lost in it, my lord. But let him come;
+	It warms the very sickness in my heart,
+	That I shall live and tell him to his teeth,
+	'Thus didest thou.'
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	If it be so, Laertes--
+	As how should it be so? how otherwise?--
+	Will you be ruled by me?
+
+LAERTES	Ay, my lord;
+	So you will not o'errule me to a peace.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	To thine own peace. If he be now return'd,
+	As checking at his voyage, and that he means
+	No more to undertake it, I will work him
+	To an exploit, now ripe in my device,
+	Under the which he shall not choose but fall:
+	And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe,
+	But even his mother shall uncharge the practise
+	And call it accident.
+
+LAERTES	My lord, I will be ruled;
+	The rather, if you could devise it so
+	That I might be the organ.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	It falls right.
+	You have been talk'd of since your travel much,
+	And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality
+	Wherein, they say, you shine: your sum of parts
+	Did not together pluck such envy from him
+	As did that one, and that, in my regard,
+	Of the unworthiest siege.
+
+LAERTES	What part is that, my lord?
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	A very riband in the cap of youth,
+	Yet needful too; for youth no less becomes
+	The light and careless livery that it wears
+	Than settled age his sables and his weeds,
+	Importing health and graveness. Two months since,
+	Here was a gentleman of Normandy:--
+	I've seen myself, and served against, the French,
+	And they can well on horseback: but this gallant
+	Had witchcraft in't; he grew unto his seat;
+	And to such wondrous doing brought his horse,
+	As he had been incorpsed and demi-natured
+	With the brave beast: so far he topp'd my thought,
+	That I, in forgery of shapes and tricks,
+	Come short of what he did.
+
+LAERTES	A Norman was't?
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	A Norman.
+
+LAERTES	Upon my life, Lamond.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	The very same.
+
+LAERTES	I know him well: he is the brooch indeed
+	And gem of all the nation.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	He made confession of you,
+	And gave you such a masterly report
+	For art and exercise in your defence
+	And for your rapier most especially,
+	That he cried out, 'twould be a sight indeed,
+	If one could match you: the scrimers of their nation,
+	He swore, had had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
+	If you opposed them. Sir, this report of his
+	Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy
+	That he could nothing do but wish and beg
+	Your sudden coming o'er, to play with him.
+	Now, out of this,--
+
+LAERTES	What out of this, my lord?
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Laertes, was your father dear to you?
+	Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,
+	A face without a heart?
+
+LAERTES	Why ask you this?
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Not that I think you did not love your father;
+	But that I know love is begun by time;
+	And that I see, in passages of proof,
+	Time qualifies the spark and fire of it.
+	There lives within the very flame of love
+	A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it;
+	And nothing is at a like goodness still;
+	For goodness, growing to a plurisy,
+	Dies in his own too much: that we would do
+	We should do when we would; for this 'would' changes
+	And hath abatements and delays as many
+	As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents;
+	And then this 'should' is like a spendthrift sigh,
+	That hurts by easing. But, to the quick o' the ulcer:--
+	Hamlet comes back: what would you undertake,
+	To show yourself your father's son in deed
+	More than in words?
+
+LAERTES	To cut his throat i' the church.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	No place, indeed, should murder sanctuarize;
+	Revenge should have no bounds. But, good Laertes,
+	Will you do this, keep close within your chamber.
+	Hamlet return'd shall know you are come home:
+	We'll put on those shall praise your excellence
+	And set a double varnish on the fame
+	The Frenchman gave you, bring you in fine together
+	And wager on your heads: he, being remiss,
+	Most generous and free from all contriving,
+	Will not peruse the foils; so that, with ease,
+	Or with a little shuffling, you may choose
+	A sword unbated, and in a pass of practise
+	Requite him for your father.
+
+LAERTES	I will do't:
+	And, for that purpose, I'll anoint my sword.
+	I bought an unction of a mountebank,
+	So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,
+	Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare,
+	Collected from all simples that have virtue
+	Under the moon, can save the thing from death
+	That is but scratch'd withal: I'll touch my point
+	With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,
+	It may be death.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	                  Let's further think of this;
+	Weigh what convenience both of time and means
+	May fit us to our shape: if this should fail,
+	And that our drift look through our bad performance,
+	'Twere better not assay'd: therefore this project
+	Should have a back or second, that might hold,
+	If this should blast in proof. Soft! let me see:
+	We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings: I ha't.
+	When in your motion you are hot and dry--
+	As make your bouts more violent to that end--
+	And that he calls for drink, I'll have prepared him
+	A chalice for the nonce, whereon but sipping,
+	If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck,
+	Our purpose may hold there.
+
+	[Enter QUEEN GERTRUDE]
+
+		      How now, sweet queen!
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	One woe doth tread upon another's heel,
+	So fast they follow; your sister's drown'd, Laertes.
+
+LAERTES	Drown'd! O, where?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
+	That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
+	There with fantastic garlands did she come
+	Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples
+	That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
+	But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them:
+	There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds
+	Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;
+	When down her weedy trophies and herself
+	Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;
+	And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:
+	Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes;
+	As one incapable of her own distress,
+	Or like a creature native and indued
+	Unto that element: but long it could not be
+	Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
+	Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay
+	To muddy death.
+
+LAERTES	                  Alas, then, she is drown'd?
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Drown'd, drown'd.
+
+LAERTES	Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,
+	And therefore I forbid my tears: but yet
+	It is our trick; nature her custom holds,
+	Let shame say what it will: when these are gone,
+	The woman will be out. Adieu, my lord:
+	I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze,
+	But that this folly douts it.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Let's follow, Gertrude:
+	How much I had to do to calm his rage!
+	Now fear I this will give it start again;
+	Therefore let's follow.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A churchyard.
+
+
+	[Enter two Clowns, with spades, &c]
+
+First Clown	Is she to be buried in Christian burial that
+	wilfully seeks her own salvation?
+
+Second Clown	I tell thee she is: and therefore make her grave
+	straight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds it
+	Christian burial.
+
+First Clown	How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her
+	own defence?
+
+Second Clown	Why, 'tis found so.
+
+First Clown	It must be 'se offendendo;' it cannot be else. For
+	here lies the point:  if I drown myself wittingly,
+	it argues an act: and an act hath three branches: it
+	is, to act, to do, to perform: argal, she drowned
+	herself wittingly.
+
+Second Clown	Nay, but hear you, goodman delver,--
+
+First Clown	Give me leave. Here lies the water; good: here
+	stands the man; good; if the man go to this water,
+	and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he
+	goes,--mark you that; but if the water come to him
+	and drown him, he drowns not himself: argal, he
+	that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.
+
+Second Clown	But is this law?
+
+First Clown	Ay, marry, is't; crowner's quest law.
+
+Second Clown	Will you ha' the truth on't? If this had not been
+	a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o'
+	Christian burial.
+
+First Clown	Why, there thou say'st: and the more pity that
+	great folk should have countenance in this world to
+	drown or hang themselves, more than their even
+	Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancient
+	gentleman but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers:
+	they hold up Adam's profession.
+
+Second Clown	Was he a gentleman?
+
+First Clown	He was the first that ever bore arms.
+
+Second Clown	Why, he had none.
+
+First Clown	What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the
+	Scripture? The Scripture says 'Adam digged:'
+	could he dig without arms? I'll put another
+	question to thee: if thou answerest me not to the
+	purpose, confess thyself--
+
+Second Clown	Go to.
+
+First Clown	What is he that builds stronger than either the
+	mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?
+
+Second Clown	The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a
+	thousand tenants.
+
+First Clown	I like thy wit well, in good faith: the gallows
+	does well; but how does it well? it does well to
+	those that do in: now thou dost ill to say the
+	gallows is built stronger than the church: argal,
+	the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come.
+
+Second Clown	'Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or
+	a carpenter?'
+
+First Clown	Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.
+
+Second Clown	Marry, now I can tell.
+
+First Clown	To't.
+
+Second Clown	Mass, I cannot tell.
+
+	[Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance]
+
+First Clown	Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull
+	ass will not mend his pace with beating; and, when
+	you are asked this question next, say 'a
+	grave-maker: 'the houses that he makes last till
+	doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan: fetch me a
+	stoup of liquor.
+
+	[Exit Second Clown]
+
+	[He digs and sings]
+
+	In youth, when I did love, did love,
+	Methought it was very sweet,
+	To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove,
+	O, methought, there was nothing meet.
+
+HAMLET	Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he
+	sings at grave-making?
+
+HORATIO	Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.
+
+HAMLET	'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment hath
+	the daintier sense.
+
+First Clown	[Sings]
+
+	But age, with his stealing steps,
+	Hath claw'd me in his clutch,
+	And hath shipped me intil the land,
+	As if I had never been such.
+
+	[Throws up a skull]
+
+HAMLET	That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once:
+	how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were
+	Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! It
+	might be the pate of a politician, which this ass
+	now o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God,
+	might it not?
+
+HORATIO	It might, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Or of a courtier; which could say 'Good morrow,
+	sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord?' This might
+	be my lord such-a-one, that praised my lord
+	such-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it; might it not?
+
+HORATIO	Ay, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Why, e'en so: and now my Lady Worm's; chapless, and
+	knocked about the mazzard with a sexton's spade:
+	here's fine revolution, an we had the trick to
+	see't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding,
+	but to play at loggats with 'em? mine ache to think on't.
+
+First Clown: [Sings]
+
+	A pick-axe, and a spade, a spade,
+	For and a shrouding sheet:
+	O, a pit of clay for to be made
+	For such a guest is meet.
+
+	[Throws up another skull]
+
+HAMLET	There's another: why may not that be the skull of a
+	lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillets,
+	his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why does he
+	suffer this rude knave now to knock him about the
+	sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of
+	his action of battery? Hum! This fellow might be
+	in's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes,
+	his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers,
+	his recoveries: is this the fine of his fines, and
+	the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine
+	pate full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch him
+	no more of his purchases, and double ones too, than
+	the length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The
+	very conveyances of his lands will hardly lie in
+	this box; and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha?
+
+HORATIO	Not a jot more, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	Is not parchment made of sheepskins?
+
+HORATIO	Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too.
+
+HAMLET	They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance
+	in that. I will speak to this fellow. Whose
+	grave's this, sirrah?
+
+First Clown	Mine, sir.
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	O, a pit of clay for to be made
+	For such a guest is meet.
+
+HAMLET	I think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't.
+
+First Clown	You lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is not
+	yours: for my part, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine.
+
+HAMLET	'Thou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine:
+	'tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.
+
+First Clown	'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away gain, from me to
+	you.
+
+HAMLET	What man dost thou dig it for?
+
+First Clown	For no man, sir.
+
+HAMLET	What woman, then?
+
+First Clown	For none, neither.
+
+HAMLET	Who is to be buried in't?
+
+First Clown	One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.
+
+HAMLET	How absolute the knave is! we must speak by the
+	card, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord,
+	Horatio, these three years I have taken a note of
+	it; the age is grown so picked that the toe of the
+	peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he
+	gaffs his kibe. How long hast thou been a
+	grave-maker?
+
+First Clown	Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day
+	that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.
+
+HAMLET	How long is that since?
+
+First Clown	Cannot you tell that? every fool can tell that: it
+	was the very day that young Hamlet was born; he that
+	is mad, and sent into England.
+
+HAMLET	Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?
+
+First Clown	Why, because he was mad: he shall recover his wits
+	there; or, if he do not, it's no great matter there.
+
+HAMLET	Why?
+
+First Clown	'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the men
+	are as mad as he.
+
+HAMLET	How came he mad?
+
+First Clown	Very strangely, they say.
+
+HAMLET	How strangely?
+
+First Clown	Faith, e'en with losing his wits.
+
+HAMLET	Upon what ground?
+
+First Clown	Why, here in Denmark: I have been sexton here, man
+	and boy, thirty years.
+
+HAMLET	How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?
+
+First Clown	I' faith, if he be not rotten before he die--as we
+	have many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarce
+	hold the laying in--he will last you some eight year
+	or nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.
+
+HAMLET	Why he more than another?
+
+First Clown	Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, that
+	he will keep out water a great while; and your water
+	is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body.
+	Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earth
+	three and twenty years.
+
+HAMLET	Whose was it?
+
+First Clown	A whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was?
+
+HAMLET	Nay, I know not.
+
+First Clown	A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured a
+	flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull,
+	sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.
+
+HAMLET	This?
+
+First Clown	E'en that.
+
+HAMLET	Let me see.
+
+	[Takes the skull]
+
+	Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow
+	of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath
+	borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how
+	abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
+	it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
+	not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your
+	gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
+	that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
+	now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
+	Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let
+	her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must
+	come; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell
+	me one thing.
+
+HORATIO	What's that, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i'
+	the earth?
+
+HORATIO	E'en so.
+
+HAMLET	And smelt so? pah!
+
+	[Puts down the skull]
+
+HORATIO	E'en so, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may
+	not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander,
+	till he find it stopping a bung-hole?
+
+HORATIO	'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.
+
+HAMLET	No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with
+	modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: as
+	thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,
+	Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; of
+	earth we make loam; and why of that loam, whereto he
+	was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?
+	Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,
+	Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:
+	O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,
+	Should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw!
+	But soft! but soft! aside: here comes the king.
+
+	[Enter Priest, &c. in procession; the Corpse of
+	OPHELIA, LAERTES and Mourners following; KING
+	CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, their trains, &c]
+
+	The queen, the courtiers: who is this they follow?
+	And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken
+	The corse they follow did with desperate hand
+	Fordo its own life: 'twas of some estate.
+	Couch we awhile, and mark.
+
+	[Retiring with HORATIO]
+
+LAERTES	What ceremony else?
+
+HAMLET	That is Laertes,
+	A very noble youth: mark.
+
+LAERTES	What ceremony else?
+
+First Priest	Her obsequies have been as far enlarged
+	As we have warrantise: her death was doubtful;
+	And, but that great command o'ersways the order,
+	She should in ground unsanctified have lodged
+	Till the last trumpet: for charitable prayers,
+	Shards, flints and pebbles should be thrown on her;
+	Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,
+	Her maiden strewments and the bringing home
+	Of bell and burial.
+
+LAERTES	Must there no more be done?
+
+First Priest	No more be done:
+	We should profane the service of the dead
+	To sing a requiem and such rest to her
+	As to peace-parted souls.
+
+LAERTES	Lay her i' the earth:
+	And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
+	May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,
+	A ministering angel shall my sister be,
+	When thou liest howling.
+
+HAMLET	What, the fair Ophelia!
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Sweets to the sweet: farewell!
+
+	[Scattering flowers]
+
+	I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;
+	I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,
+	And not have strew'd thy grave.
+
+LAERTES	O, treble woe
+	Fall ten times treble on that cursed head,
+	Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense
+	Deprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,
+	Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:
+
+	[Leaps into the grave]
+
+	Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,
+	Till of this flat a mountain you have made,
+	To o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish head
+	Of blue Olympus.
+
+HAMLET	[Advancing]     What is he whose grief
+	Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow
+	Conjures the wandering stars, and makes them stand
+	Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
+	Hamlet the Dane.
+
+	[Leaps into the grave]
+
+LAERTES	                  The devil take thy soul!
+
+	[Grappling with him]
+
+HAMLET	Thou pray'st not well.
+	I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;
+	For, though I am not splenitive and rash,
+	Yet have I something in me dangerous,
+	Which let thy wiseness fear: hold off thy hand.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Pluck them asunder.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Hamlet, Hamlet!
+
+All	Gentlemen,--
+
+HORATIO	                  Good my lord, be quiet.
+
+	[The Attendants part them, and they come out of the grave]
+
+HAMLET	Why I will fight with him upon this theme
+	Until my eyelids will no longer wag.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	O my son, what theme?
+
+HAMLET	I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers
+	Could not, with all their quantity of love,
+	Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	O, he is mad, Laertes.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	For love of God, forbear him.
+
+HAMLET	'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do:
+	Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?
+	Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?
+	I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?
+	To outface me with leaping in her grave?
+	Be buried quick with her, and so will I:
+	And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
+	Millions of acres on us, till our ground,
+	Singeing his pate against the burning zone,
+	Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,
+	I'll rant as well as thou.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	This is mere madness:
+	And thus awhile the fit will work on him;
+	Anon, as patient as the female dove,
+	When that her golden couplets are disclosed,
+	His silence will sit drooping.
+
+HAMLET	Hear you, sir;
+	What is the reason that you use me thus?
+	I loved you ever: but it is no matter;
+	Let Hercules himself do what he may,
+	The cat will mew and dog will have his day.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	I pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him.
+
+	[Exit HORATIO]
+
+	[To LAERTES]
+
+	Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;
+	We'll put the matter to the present push.
+	Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.
+	This grave shall have a living monument:
+	An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;
+	Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+	HAMLET
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A hall in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter HAMLET and HORATIO]
+
+HAMLET	So much for this, sir: now shall you see the other;
+	You do remember all the circumstance?
+
+HORATIO	Remember it, my lord?
+
+HAMLET	Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,
+	That would not let me sleep: methought I lay
+	Worse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly,
+	And praised be rashness for it, let us know,
+	Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,
+	When our deep plots do pall: and that should teach us
+	There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
+	Rough-hew them how we will,--
+
+HORATIO	That is most certain.
+
+HAMLET	Up from my cabin,
+	My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the dark
+	Groped I to find out them; had my desire.
+	Finger'd their packet, and in fine withdrew
+	To mine own room again; making so bold,
+	My fears forgetting manners, to unseal
+	Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio,--
+	O royal knavery!--an exact command,
+	Larded with many several sorts of reasons
+	Importing Denmark's health and England's too,
+	With, ho! such bugs and goblins in my life,
+	That, on the supervise, no leisure bated,
+	No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,
+	My head should be struck off.
+
+HORATIO	Is't possible?
+
+HAMLET	Here's the commission: read it at more leisure.
+	But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed?
+
+HORATIO	I beseech you.
+
+HAMLET	Being thus be-netted round with villanies,--
+	Ere I could make a prologue to my brains,
+	They had begun the play--I sat me down,
+	Devised a new commission, wrote it fair:
+	I once did hold it, as our statists do,
+	A baseness to write fair and labour'd much
+	How to forget that learning, but, sir, now
+	It did me yeoman's service: wilt thou know
+	The effect of what I wrote?
+
+HORATIO	Ay, good my lord.
+
+HAMLET	An earnest conjuration from the king,
+	As England was his faithful tributary,
+	As love between them like the palm might flourish,
+	As peace should stiff her wheaten garland wear
+	And stand a comma 'tween their amities,
+	And many such-like 'As'es of great charge,
+	That, on the view and knowing of these contents,
+	Without debatement further, more or less,
+	He should the bearers put to sudden death,
+	Not shriving-time allow'd.
+
+HORATIO	How was this seal'd?
+
+HAMLET	Why, even in that was heaven ordinant.
+	I had my father's signet in my purse,
+	Which was the model of that Danish seal;
+	Folded the writ up in form of the other,
+	Subscribed it, gave't the impression, placed it safely,
+	The changeling never known. Now, the next day
+	Was our sea-fight; and what to this was sequent
+	Thou know'st already.
+
+HORATIO	So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to't.
+
+HAMLET	Why, man, they did make love to this employment;
+	They are not near my conscience; their defeat
+	Does by their own insinuation grow:
+	'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes
+	Between the pass and fell incensed points
+	Of mighty opposites.
+
+HORATIO	Why, what a king is this!
+
+HAMLET	Does it not, think'st thee, stand me now upon--
+	He that hath kill'd my king and whored my mother,
+	Popp'd in between the election and my hopes,
+	Thrown out his angle for my proper life,
+	And with such cozenage--is't not perfect conscience,
+	To quit him with this arm? and is't not to be damn'd,
+	To let this canker of our nature come
+	In further evil?
+
+HORATIO	It must be shortly known to him from England
+	What is the issue of the business there.
+
+HAMLET	It will be short: the interim is mine;
+	And a man's life's no more than to say 'One.'
+	But I am very sorry, good Horatio,
+	That to Laertes I forgot myself;
+	For, by the image of my cause, I see
+	The portraiture of his: I'll court his favours.
+	But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put me
+	Into a towering passion.
+
+HORATIO	Peace! who comes here?
+
+	[Enter OSRIC]
+
+OSRIC	Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.
+
+HAMLET	I humbly thank you, sir. Dost know this water-fly?
+
+HORATIO	No, my good lord.
+
+HAMLET	Thy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a vice to
+	know him. He hath much land, and fertile: let a
+	beast be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand at
+	the king's mess: 'tis a chough; but, as I say,
+	spacious in the possession of dirt.
+
+OSRIC	Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I
+	should impart a thing to you from his majesty.
+
+HAMLET	I will receive it, sir, with all diligence of
+	spirit. Put your bonnet to his right use; 'tis for the head.
+
+OSRIC	I thank your lordship, it is very hot.
+
+HAMLET	No, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind is
+	northerly.
+
+OSRIC	It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.
+
+HAMLET	But yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for my
+	complexion.
+
+OSRIC	Exceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,--as
+	'twere,--I cannot tell how. But, my lord, his
+	majesty bade me signify to you that he has laid a
+	great wager on your head: sir, this is the matter,--
+
+HAMLET	I beseech you, remember--
+
+	[HAMLET moves him to put on his hat]
+
+OSRIC	Nay, good my lord; for mine ease, in good faith.
+	Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes; believe
+	me, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellent
+	differences, of very soft society and great showing:
+	indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card or
+	calendar of gentry, for you shall find in him the
+	continent of what part a gentleman would see.
+
+HAMLET	Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you;
+	though, I know, to divide him inventorially would
+	dizzy the arithmetic of memory, and yet but yaw
+	neither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in the
+	verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of
+	great article; and his infusion of such dearth and
+	rareness, as, to make true diction of him, his
+	semblable is his mirror; and who else would trace
+	him, his umbrage, nothing more.
+
+OSRIC	Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him.
+
+HAMLET	The concernancy, sir? why do we wrap the gentleman
+	in our more rawer breath?
+
+OSRIC	Sir?
+
+HORATIO	Is't not possible to understand in another tongue?
+	You will do't, sir, really.
+
+HAMLET	What imports the nomination of this gentleman?
+
+OSRIC	Of Laertes?
+
+HORATIO	His purse is empty already; all's golden words are spent.
+
+HAMLET	Of him, sir.
+
+OSRIC	I know you are not ignorant--
+
+HAMLET	I would you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did,
+	it would not much approve me. Well, sir?
+
+OSRIC	You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is--
+
+HAMLET	I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with
+	him in excellence; but, to know a man well, were to
+	know himself.
+
+OSRIC	I mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputation
+	laid on him by them, in his meed he's unfellowed.
+
+HAMLET	What's his weapon?
+
+OSRIC	Rapier and dagger.
+
+HAMLET	That's two of his weapons: but, well.
+
+OSRIC	The king, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbary
+	horses: against the which he has imponed, as I take
+	it, six French rapiers and poniards, with their
+	assigns, as girdle, hangers, and so: three of the
+	carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, very
+	responsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages,
+	and of very liberal conceit.
+
+HAMLET	What call you the carriages?
+
+HORATIO	I knew you must be edified by the margent ere you had done.
+
+OSRIC	The carriages, sir, are the hangers.
+
+HAMLET	The phrase would be more german to the matter, if we
+	could carry cannon by our sides: I would it might
+	be hangers till then. But, on: six Barbary horses
+	against six French swords, their assigns, and three
+	liberal-conceited carriages; that's the French bet
+	against the Danish. Why is this 'imponed,' as you call it?
+
+OSRIC	The king, sir, hath laid, that in a dozen passes
+	between yourself and him, he shall not exceed you
+	three hits: he hath laid on twelve for nine; and it
+	would come to immediate trial, if your lordship
+	would vouchsafe the answer.
+
+HAMLET	How if I answer 'no'?
+
+OSRIC	I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.
+
+HAMLET	Sir, I will walk here in the hall: if it please his
+	majesty, 'tis the breathing time of day with me; let
+	the foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and the
+	king hold his purpose, I will win for him an I can;
+	if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.
+
+OSRIC	Shall I re-deliver you e'en so?
+
+HAMLET	To this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.
+
+OSRIC	I commend my duty to your lordship.
+
+HAMLET	Yours, yours.
+
+	[Exit OSRIC]
+
+	He does well to commend it himself; there are no
+	tongues else for's turn.
+
+HORATIO	This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.
+
+HAMLET	He did comply with his dug, before he sucked it.
+	Thus has he--and many more of the same bevy that I
+	know the dressy age dotes on--only got the tune of
+	the time and outward habit of encounter; a kind of
+	yesty collection, which carries them through and
+	through the most fond and winnowed opinions; and do
+	but blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out.
+
+	[Enter a Lord]
+
+Lord	My lord, his majesty commended him to you by young
+	Osric, who brings back to him that you attend him in
+	the hall: he sends to know if your pleasure hold to
+	play with Laertes, or that you will take longer time.
+
+HAMLET	I am constant to my purpose; they follow the king's
+	pleasure: if his fitness speaks, mine is ready; now
+	or whensoever, provided I be so able as now.
+
+Lord	The king and queen and all are coming down.
+
+HAMLET	In happy time.
+
+Lord	The queen desires you to use some gentle
+	entertainment to Laertes before you fall to play.
+
+HAMLET	She well instructs me.
+
+	[Exit Lord]
+
+HORATIO	You will lose this wager, my lord.
+
+HAMLET	I do not think so: since he went into France, I
+	have been in continual practise: I shall win at the
+	odds. But thou wouldst not think how ill all's here
+	about my heart: but it is no matter.
+
+HORATIO	Nay, good my lord,--
+
+HAMLET	It is but foolery; but it is such a kind of
+	gain-giving, as would perhaps trouble a woman.
+
+HORATIO	If your mind dislike any thing, obey it: I will
+	forestall their repair hither, and say you are not
+	fit.
+
+HAMLET	Not a whit, we defy augury: there's a special
+	providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,
+	'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be
+	now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the
+	readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he
+	leaves, what is't to leave betimes?
+
+	[Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, LAERTES,
+	Lords, OSRIC, and Attendants with foils, &c]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
+
+	[KING CLAUDIUS puts LAERTES' hand into HAMLET's]
+
+HAMLET	Give me your pardon, sir: I've done you wrong;
+	But pardon't, as you are a gentleman.
+	This presence knows,
+	And you must needs have heard, how I am punish'd
+	With sore distraction. What I have done,
+	That might your nature, honour and exception
+	Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.
+	Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never Hamlet:
+	If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,
+	And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes,
+	Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it.
+	Who does it, then? His madness: if't be so,
+	Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd;
+	His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.
+	Sir, in this audience,
+	Let my disclaiming from a purposed evil
+	Free me so far in your most generous thoughts,
+	That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house,
+	And hurt my brother.
+
+LAERTES	I am satisfied in nature,
+	Whose motive, in this case, should stir me most
+	To my revenge: but in my terms of honour
+	I stand aloof; and will no reconcilement,
+	Till by some elder masters, of known honour,
+	I have a voice and precedent of peace,
+	To keep my name ungored. But till that time,
+	I do receive your offer'd love like love,
+	And will not wrong it.
+
+HAMLET	I embrace it freely;
+	And will this brother's wager frankly play.
+	Give us the foils. Come on.
+
+LAERTES	Come, one for me.
+
+HAMLET	I'll be your foil, Laertes: in mine ignorance
+	Your skill shall, like a star i' the darkest night,
+	Stick fiery off indeed.
+
+LAERTES	You mock me, sir.
+
+HAMLET	No, by this hand.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Give them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet,
+	You know the wager?
+
+HAMLET	Very well, my lord
+	Your grace hath laid the odds o' the weaker side.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	I do not fear it; I have seen you both:
+	But since he is better'd, we have therefore odds.
+
+LAERTES	This is too heavy, let me see another.
+
+HAMLET	This likes me well. These foils have all a length?
+
+	[They prepare to play]
+
+OSRIC	Ay, my good lord.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Set me the stoops of wine upon that table.
+	If Hamlet give the first or second hit,
+	Or quit in answer of the third exchange,
+	Let all the battlements their ordnance fire:
+	The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath;
+	And in the cup an union shall he throw,
+	Richer than that which four successive kings
+	In Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups;
+	And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,
+	The trumpet to the cannoneer without,
+	The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,
+	'Now the king dunks to Hamlet.' Come, begin:
+	And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.
+
+HAMLET	Come on, sir.
+
+LAERTES	                  Come, my lord.
+
+	[They play]
+
+HAMLET	One.
+
+LAERTES	No.
+
+HAMLET	Judgment.
+
+OSRIC	A hit, a very palpable hit.
+
+LAERTES	Well; again.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Stay; give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine;
+	Here's to thy health.
+
+	[Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within]
+
+		Give him the cup.
+
+HAMLET	I'll play this bout first; set it by awhile. Come.
+
+	[They play]
+
+	Another hit; what say you?
+
+LAERTES	A touch, a touch, I do confess.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Our son shall win.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	                  He's fat, and scant of breath.
+	Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows;
+	The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.
+
+HAMLET	Good madam!
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	          Gertrude, do not drink.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	I will, my lord; I pray you, pardon me.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	[Aside]  It is the poison'd cup: it is too late.
+
+HAMLET	I dare not drink yet, madam; by and by.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	Come, let me wipe thy face.
+
+LAERTES	My lord, I'll hit him now.
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	I do not think't.
+
+LAERTES	[Aside]  And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience.
+
+HAMLET	Come, for the third, Laertes: you but dally;
+	I pray you, pass with your best violence;
+	I am afeard you make a wanton of me.
+
+LAERTES	Say you so? come on.
+
+	[They play]
+
+OSRIC	Nothing, neither way.
+
+LAERTES	Have at you now!
+
+	[LAERTES wounds HAMLET; then in scuffling, they
+	change rapiers, and HAMLET wounds LAERTES]
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	Part them; they are incensed.
+
+HAMLET	Nay, come, again.
+
+	[QUEEN GERTRUDE falls]
+
+OSRIC	                  Look to the queen there, ho!
+
+HORATIO	They bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?
+
+OSRIC	How is't, Laertes?
+
+LAERTES	Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric;
+	I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.
+
+HAMLET	How does the queen?
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	She swounds to see them bleed.
+
+QUEEN GERTRUDE	No, no, the drink, the drink,--O my dear Hamlet,--
+	The drink, the drink! I am poison'd.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+HAMLET	O villany! Ho! let the door be lock'd:
+	Treachery! Seek it out.
+
+LAERTES	It is here, Hamlet: Hamlet, thou art slain;
+	No medicine in the world can do thee good;
+	In thee there is not half an hour of life;
+	The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,
+	Unbated and envenom'd: the foul practise
+	Hath turn'd itself on me lo, here I lie,
+	Never to rise again: thy mother's poison'd:
+	I can no more: the king, the king's to blame.
+
+HAMLET	The point!--envenom'd too!
+	Then, venom, to thy work.
+
+	[Stabs KING CLAUDIUS]
+
+All	Treason! treason!
+
+KING CLAUDIUS	O, yet defend me, friends; I am but hurt.
+
+HAMLET	Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane,
+	Drink off this potion. Is thy union here?
+	Follow my mother.
+
+	[KING CLAUDIUS dies]
+
+LAERTES	                  He is justly served;
+	It is a poison temper'd by himself.
+	Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet:
+	Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,
+	Nor thine on me.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+HAMLET	Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.
+	I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu!
+	You that look pale and tremble at this chance,
+	That are but mutes or audience to this act,
+	Had I but time--as this fell sergeant, death,
+	Is strict in his arrest--O, I could tell you--
+	But let it be. Horatio, I am dead;
+	Thou livest; report me and my cause aright
+	To the unsatisfied.
+
+HORATIO	Never believe it:
+	I am more an antique Roman than a Dane:
+	Here's yet some liquor left.
+
+HAMLET	As thou'rt a man,
+	Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't.
+	O good Horatio, what a wounded name,
+	Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!
+	If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart
+	Absent thee from felicity awhile,
+	And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,
+	To tell my story.
+
+	[March afar off, and shot within]
+
+	What warlike noise is this?
+
+OSRIC	Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,
+	To the ambassadors of England gives
+	This warlike volley.
+
+HAMLET	O, I die, Horatio;
+	The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit:
+	I cannot live to hear the news from England;
+	But I do prophesy the election lights
+	On Fortinbras: he has my dying voice;
+	So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less,
+	Which have solicited. The rest is silence.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+HORATIO	Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:
+	And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
+	Why does the drum come hither?
+
+	[March within]
+
+	[Enter FORTINBRAS, the English Ambassadors,
+	and others]
+
+PRINCE FORTINBRAS	Where is this sight?
+
+HORATIO	What is it ye would see?
+	If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.
+
+PRINCE FORTINBRAS	This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death,
+	What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,
+	That thou so many princes at a shot
+	So bloodily hast struck?
+
+First Ambassador	The sight is dismal;
+	And our affairs from England come too late:
+	The ears are senseless that should give us hearing,
+	To tell him his commandment is fulfill'd,
+	That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead:
+	Where should we have our thanks?
+
+HORATIO	Not from his mouth,
+	Had it the ability of life to thank you:
+	He never gave commandment for their death.
+	But since, so jump upon this bloody question,
+	You from the Polack wars, and you from England,
+	Are here arrived give order that these bodies
+	High on a stage be placed to the view;
+	And let me speak to the yet unknowing world
+	How these things came about: so shall you hear
+	Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,
+	Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
+	Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,
+	And, in this upshot, purposes mistook
+	Fall'n on the inventors' reads: all this can I
+	Truly deliver.
+
+PRINCE FORTINBRAS	                  Let us haste to hear it,
+	And call the noblest to the audience.
+	For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune:
+	I have some rights of memory in this kingdom,
+	Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
+
+HORATIO	Of that I shall have also cause to speak,
+	And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more;
+	But let this same be presently perform'd,
+	Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischance
+	On plots and errors, happen.
+
+PRINCE FORTINBRAS	Let four captains
+	Bear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;
+	For he was likely, had he been put on,
+	To have proved most royally: and, for his passage,
+	The soldiers' music and the rites of war
+	Speak loudly for him.
+	Take up the bodies: such a sight as this
+	Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.
+	Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
+
+	[A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead
+	bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off]
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+JULIUS CAESAR	(CAESAR:)
+
+
+OCTAVIUS CAESAR	(OCTAVIUS:)	|
+		|
+MARCUS ANTONIUS	(ANTONY:)	|  triumvirs after death of Julius Caesar.
+		|
+M. AEMILIUS		|
+LEPIDUS	(LEPIDUS:)	|
+
+
+CICERO		|
+		|
+PUBLIUS		|  senators.
+		|
+POPILIUS LENA	(POPILIUS:)	|
+
+
+MARCUS BRUTUS	(BRUTUS:)	|
+		|
+CASSIUS		|
+		|
+CASCA		|
+		|
+TREBONIUS		|
+		|   conspirators against Julius Caesar.
+LIGARIUS		|
+		|
+DECIUS BRUTUS		|
+		|
+METELLUS CIMBER		|
+		|
+CINNA		|
+
+
+FLAVIUS	|
+	|   tribunes.
+MARULLUS	|
+
+
+ARTEMIDORUS
+Of Cnidos	a teacher of rhetoric. (ARTEMIDORUS:)
+
+A Soothsayer	(Soothsayer:)
+
+CINNA	a poet. (CINNA THE POET:)
+
+Another Poet	(Poet:)
+
+
+LUCILIUS		|
+		|
+TITINIUS		|
+		|
+MESSALA		|  friends to Brutus and Cassius.
+		|
+Young CATO	(CATO:)	|
+		|
+VOLUMNIUS		|
+
+
+VARRO	|
+	|
+CLITUS	|
+	|
+CLAUDIUS	|
+	|  servants to Brutus.
+STRATO	|
+	|
+LUCIUS	|
+	|
+DARDANIUS	|
+
+
+PINDARUS	servant to Cassius.
+
+CALPURNIA	wife to Caesar.
+
+PORTIA	wife to Brutus.
+
+	Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, &c.
+	(First Citizen:)
+	(Second Citizen:)
+	(Third Citizen:)
+	(Fourth Citizen:)
+	(First Commoner:)
+	(Second Commoner:)
+	(Servant:)
+	(First Soldier:)
+	(Second Soldier:)
+	(Third Soldier:)
+	(Messenger:)
+
+
+SCENE	Rome: the neighbourhood of Sardis: the neighbourhood
+	of Philippi.
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rome. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and certain Commoners]
+
+FLAVIUS	Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home:
+	Is this a holiday? what! know you not,
+	Being mechanical, you ought not walk
+	Upon a labouring day without the sign
+	Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?
+
+First Commoner	Why, sir, a carpenter.
+
+MARULLUS	Where is thy leather apron and thy rule?
+	What dost thou with thy best apparel on?
+	You, sir, what trade are you?
+
+Second Commoner	Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but,
+	as you would say, a cobbler.
+
+MARULLUS	But what trade art thou? answer me directly.
+
+Second Commoner	A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe
+	conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.
+
+MARULLUS	What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?
+
+Second Commoner	Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet,
+	if you be out, sir, I can mend you.
+
+MARULLUS	What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow!
+
+Second Commoner	Why, sir, cobble you.
+
+FLAVIUS	Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
+
+Second Commoner	Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I
+	meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's
+	matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon
+	to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I
+	recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon
+	neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork.
+
+FLAVIUS	But wherefore art not in thy shop today?
+	Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?
+
+Second Commoner	Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself
+	into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday,
+	to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph.
+
+MARULLUS	Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?
+	What tributaries follow him to Rome,
+	To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?
+	You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!
+	O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome,
+	Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft
+	Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements,
+	To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops,
+	Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
+	The livelong day, with patient expectation,
+	To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome:
+	And when you saw his chariot but appear,
+	Have you not made an universal shout,
+	That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,
+	To hear the replication of your sounds
+	Made in her concave shores?
+	And do you now put on your best attire?
+	And do you now cull out a holiday?
+	And do you now strew flowers in his way
+	That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone!
+	Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,
+	Pray to the gods to intermit the plague
+	That needs must light on this ingratitude.
+
+FLAVIUS	Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault,
+	Assemble all the poor men of your sort;
+	Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears
+	Into the channel, till the lowest stream
+	Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.
+
+	[Exeunt all the Commoners]
+
+	See whether their basest metal be not moved;
+	They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.
+	Go you down that way towards the Capitol;
+	This way will I	disrobe the images,
+	If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.
+
+MARULLUS	May we do so?
+	You know it is the feast of Lupercal.
+
+FLAVIUS	It is no matter; let no images
+	Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about,
+	And drive away the vulgar from the streets:
+	So do you too, where you perceive them thick.
+	These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing
+	Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
+	Who else would soar above the view of men
+	And keep us all in servile fearfulness.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A public place.
+
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter CAESAR; ANTONY, for the course;
+	CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CICERO, BRUTUS,
+	CASSIUS, and CASCA; a great crowd following, among
+	them a Soothsayer]
+
+CAESAR	Calpurnia!
+
+CASCA	         Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.
+
+CAESAR	Calpurnia!
+
+CALPURNIA	Here, my lord.
+
+CAESAR	Stand you directly in Antonius' way,
+	When he doth run his course. Antonius!
+
+ANTONY	Caesar, my lord?
+
+CAESAR	Forget not, in your speed, Antonius,
+	To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say,
+	The barren, touched in this holy chase,
+	Shake off their sterile curse.
+
+ANTONY	I shall remember:
+	When Caesar says 'do this,' it is perform'd.
+
+CAESAR	Set on; and leave no ceremony out.
+
+	[Flourish]
+
+Soothsayer	Caesar!
+
+CAESAR	Ha! who calls?
+
+CASCA	Bid every noise be still: peace yet again!
+
+CAESAR	Who is it in the press that calls on me?
+	I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music,
+	Cry 'Caesar!' Speak; Caesar is turn'd to hear.
+
+Soothsayer	Beware the ides of March.
+
+CAESAR	What man is that?
+
+BRUTUS	A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.
+
+CAESAR	Set him before me; let me see his face.
+
+CASSIUS	Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.
+
+CAESAR	What say'st thou to me now? speak once again.
+
+Soothsayer	Beware the ides of March.
+
+CAESAR	He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass.
+
+	[Sennet. Exeunt all except BRUTUS and CASSIUS]
+
+CASSIUS	Will you go see the order of the course?
+
+BRUTUS	Not I.
+
+CASSIUS	I pray you, do.
+
+BRUTUS	I am not gamesome: I do lack some part
+	Of that quick spirit that is in Antony.
+	Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires;
+	I'll leave you.
+
+CASSIUS	Brutus, I do observe you now of late:
+	I have not from your eyes that gentleness
+	And show of love as I was wont to have:
+	You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand
+	Over your friend that loves you.
+
+BRUTUS	Cassius,
+	Be not deceived: if I have veil'd my look,
+	I turn the trouble of my countenance
+	Merely upon myself. Vexed I am
+	Of late with passions of some difference,
+	Conceptions only proper to myself,
+	Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors;
+	But let not therefore my good friends be grieved--
+	Among which number, Cassius, be you one--
+	Nor construe any further my neglect,
+	Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war,
+	Forgets the shows of love to other men.
+
+CASSIUS	Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion;
+	By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried
+	Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations.
+	Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
+
+BRUTUS	No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself,
+	But by reflection, by some other things.
+
+CASSIUS	'Tis just:
+	And it is very much lamented, Brutus,
+	That you have no such mirrors as will turn
+	Your hidden worthiness into your eye,
+	That you might see your shadow. I have heard,
+	Where many of the best respect in Rome,
+	Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus
+	And groaning underneath this age's yoke,
+	Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes.
+
+BRUTUS	Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
+	That you would have me seek into myself
+	For that which is not in me?
+
+CASSIUS	Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear:
+	And since you know you cannot see yourself
+	So well as by reflection, I, your glass,
+	Will modestly discover to yourself
+	That of yourself which you yet know not of.
+	And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus:
+	Were I a common laugher, or did use
+	To stale with ordinary oaths my love
+	To every new protester; if you know
+	That I do fawn on men and hug them hard
+	And after scandal them, or if you know
+	That I profess myself in banqueting
+	To all the rout, then hold me dangerous.
+
+	[Flourish, and shout]
+
+BRUTUS	What means this shouting? I do fear, the people
+	Choose Caesar for their king.
+
+CASSIUS	Ay, do you fear it?
+	Then must I think you would not have it so.
+
+BRUTUS	I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well.
+	But wherefore do you hold me here so long?
+	What is it that you would impart to me?
+	If it be aught toward the general good,
+	Set honour in one eye and death i' the other,
+	And I will look on both indifferently,
+	For let the gods so speed me as I love
+	The name of honour more than I fear death.
+
+CASSIUS	I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus,
+	As well as I do know your outward favour.
+	Well, honour is the subject of my story.
+	I cannot tell what you and other men
+	Think of this life; but, for my single self,
+	I had as lief not be as live to be
+	In awe of such a thing as I myself.
+	I was born free as Caesar; so were you:
+	We both have fed as well, and we can both
+	Endure the winter's cold as well as he:
+	For once, upon a raw and gusty day,
+	The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,
+	Caesar said to me 'Darest thou, Cassius, now
+	Leap in with me into this angry flood,
+	And swim to yonder point?' Upon the word,
+	Accoutred as I was, I plunged in
+	And bade him follow; so indeed he did.
+	The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
+	With lusty sinews, throwing it aside
+	And stemming it with hearts of controversy;
+	But ere we could arrive the point proposed,
+	Caesar cried 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!'
+	I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor,
+	Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder
+	The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber
+	Did I the tired Caesar. And this man
+	Is now become a god, and Cassius is
+	A wretched creature and must bend his body,
+	If Caesar carelessly but nod on him.
+	He had a fever when he was in Spain,
+	And when the fit was on him, I did mark
+	How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake;
+	His coward lips did from their colour fly,
+	And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world
+	Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan:
+	Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans
+	Mark him and write his speeches in their books,
+	Alas, it cried 'Give me some drink, Titinius,'
+	As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me
+	A man of such a feeble temper should
+	So get the start of the majestic world
+	And bear the palm alone.
+
+	[Shout. Flourish]
+
+BRUTUS	Another general shout!
+	I do believe that these applauses are
+	For some new honours that are heap'd on Caesar.
+
+CASSIUS	Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
+	Like a Colossus, and we petty men
+	Walk under his huge legs and peep about
+	To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
+	Men at some time are masters of their fates:
+	The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
+	But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
+	Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that 'Caesar'?
+	Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
+	Write them together, yours is as fair a name;
+	Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
+	Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,
+	Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar.
+	Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
+	Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed,
+	That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!
+	Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
+	When went there by an age, since the great flood,
+	But it was famed with more than with one man?
+	When could they say till now, that talk'd of Rome,
+	That her wide walls encompass'd but one man?
+	Now is it Rome indeed and room enough,
+	When there is in it but one only man.
+	O, you and I have heard our fathers say,
+	There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd
+	The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome
+	As easily as a king.
+
+BRUTUS	That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;
+	What you would work me to, I have some aim:
+	How I have thought of this and of these times,
+	I shall recount hereafter; for this present,
+	I would not, so with love I might entreat you,
+	Be any further moved. What you have said
+	I will consider; what you have to say
+	I will with patience hear, and find a time
+	Both meet to hear and answer such high things.
+	Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this:
+	Brutus had rather be a villager
+	Than to repute himself a son of Rome
+	Under these hard conditions as this time
+	Is like to lay upon us.
+
+CASSIUS	I am glad that my weak words
+	Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus.
+
+BRUTUS	The games are done and Caesar is returning.
+
+CASSIUS	As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve;
+	And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you
+	What hath proceeded worthy note to-day.
+
+	[Re-enter CAESAR and his Train]
+
+BRUTUS	I will do so. But, look you, Cassius,
+	The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow,
+	And all the rest look like a chidden train:
+	Calpurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero
+	Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes
+	As we have seen him in the Capitol,
+	Being cross'd in conference by some senators.
+
+CASSIUS	Casca will tell us what the matter is.
+
+CAESAR	Antonius!
+
+ANTONY	Caesar?
+
+CAESAR	Let me have men about me that are fat;
+	Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights:
+	Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
+	He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.
+
+ANTONY	Fear him not, Caesar; he's not dangerous;
+	He is a noble Roman and well given.
+
+CAESAR	Would he were fatter! But I fear him not:
+	Yet if my name were liable to fear,
+	I do not know the man I should avoid
+	So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much;
+	He is a great observer and he looks
+	Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays,
+	As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music;
+	Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort
+	As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit
+	That could be moved to smile at any thing.
+	Such men as he be never at heart's ease
+	Whiles they behold a greater than themselves,
+	And therefore are they very dangerous.
+	I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd
+	Than what I fear; for always I am Caesar.
+	Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf,
+	And tell me truly what thou think'st of him.
+
+	[Sennet. Exeunt CAESAR and all his Train, but CASCA]
+
+CASCA	You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me?
+
+BRUTUS	Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day,
+	That Caesar looks so sad.
+
+CASCA	Why, you were with him, were you not?
+
+BRUTUS	I should not then ask Casca what had chanced.
+
+CASCA	Why, there was a crown offered him: and being
+	offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand,
+	thus; and then the people fell a-shouting.
+
+BRUTUS	What was the second noise for?
+
+CASCA	Why, for that too.
+
+CASSIUS	They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for?
+
+CASCA	Why, for that too.
+
+BRUTUS	Was the crown offered him thrice?
+
+CASCA	Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every
+	time gentler than other, and at every putting-by
+	mine honest neighbours shouted.
+
+CASSIUS	Who offered him the crown?
+
+CASCA	Why, Antony.
+
+BRUTUS	Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca.
+
+CASCA	I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it:
+	it was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark
+	Antony offer him a crown;--yet 'twas not a crown
+	neither, 'twas one of these coronets;--and, as I told
+	you, he put it by once: but, for all that, to my
+	thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he
+	offered it to him again; then he put it by again:
+	but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his
+	fingers off it. And then he offered it the third
+	time; he put it the third time by: and still as he
+	refused it, the rabblement hooted and clapped their
+	chapped hands and threw up their sweaty night-caps
+	and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because
+	Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked
+	Caesar; for he swounded and fell down at it: and
+	for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of
+	opening my lips and receiving the bad air.
+
+CASSIUS	But, soft, I pray you: what, did Caesar swound?
+
+CASCA	He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at
+	mouth, and was speechless.
+
+BRUTUS	'Tis very like: he hath the failing sickness.
+
+CASSIUS	No, Caesar hath it not; but you and I,
+	And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness.
+
+CASCA	I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure,
+	Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not
+	clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and
+	displeased them, as they use to do the players in
+	the theatre, I am no true man.
+
+BRUTUS	What said he when he came unto himself?
+
+CASCA	Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the
+	common herd was glad he refused the crown, he
+	plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his
+	throat to cut. An I had been a man of any
+	occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word,
+	I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so
+	he fell. When he came to himself again, he said,
+	If he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired
+	their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three
+	or four wenches, where I stood, cried 'Alas, good
+	soul!' and forgave him with all their hearts: but
+	there's no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had
+	stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less.
+
+BRUTUS	And after that, he came, thus sad, away?
+
+CASCA	Ay.
+
+CASSIUS	Did Cicero say any thing?
+
+CASCA	Ay, he spoke Greek.
+
+CASSIUS	To what effect?
+
+CASCA	Nay, an I tell you that, Ill ne'er look you i' the
+	face again: but those that understood him smiled at
+	one another and shook their heads; but, for mine own
+	part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more
+	news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs
+	off Caesar's images, are put to silence. Fare you
+	well. There was more foolery yet, if I could
+	remember it.
+
+CASSIUS	Will you sup with me to-night, Casca?
+
+CASCA	No, I am promised forth.
+
+CASSIUS	Will you dine with me to-morrow?
+
+CASCA	Ay, if I be alive and your mind hold and your dinner
+	worth the eating.
+
+CASSIUS	Good: I will expect you.
+
+CASCA	Do so. Farewell, both.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BRUTUS	What a blunt fellow is this grown to be!
+	He was quick mettle when he went to school.
+
+CASSIUS	So is he now in execution
+	Of any bold or noble enterprise,
+	However he puts on this tardy form.
+	This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit,
+	Which gives men stomach to digest his words
+	With better appetite.
+
+BRUTUS	And so it is. For this time I will leave you:
+	To-morrow, if you please to speak with me,
+	I will come home to you; or, if you will,
+	Come home to me, and I will wait for you.
+
+CASSIUS	I will do so: till then, think of the world.
+
+	[Exit BRUTUS]
+
+	Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see,
+	Thy honourable metal may be wrought
+	From that it is disposed: therefore it is meet
+	That noble minds keep ever with their likes;
+	For who so firm that cannot be seduced?
+	Caesar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus:
+	If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius,
+	He should not humour me. I will this night,
+	In several hands, in at his windows throw,
+	As if they came from several citizens,
+	Writings all tending to the great opinion
+	That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely
+	Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at:
+	And after this let Caesar seat him sure;
+	For we will shake him, or worse days endure.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. A street.
+
+
+
+
+	[Thunder and lightning. Enter from opposite sides,
+	CASCA, with his sword drawn, and CICERO]
+
+CICERO	Good even, Casca: brought you Caesar home?
+	Why are you breathless? and why stare you so?
+
+CASCA	Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth
+	Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero,
+	I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds
+	Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen
+	The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam,
+	To be exalted with the threatening clouds:
+	But never till to-night, never till now,
+	Did I go through a tempest dropping fire.
+	Either there is a civil strife in heaven,
+	Or else the world, too saucy with the gods,
+	Incenses them to send destruction.
+
+CICERO	Why, saw you any thing more wonderful?
+
+CASCA	A common slave--you know him well by sight--
+	Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn
+	Like twenty torches join'd, and yet his hand,
+	Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd.
+	Besides--I ha' not since put up my sword--
+	Against the Capitol I met a lion,
+	Who glared upon me, and went surly by,
+	Without annoying me: and there were drawn
+	Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women,
+	Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw
+	Men all in fire walk up and down the streets.
+	And yesterday the bird of night did sit
+	Even at noon-day upon the market-place,
+	Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies
+	Do so conjointly meet, let not men say
+	'These are their reasons; they are natural;'
+	For, I believe, they are portentous things
+	Unto the climate that they point upon.
+
+CICERO	Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time:
+	But men may construe things after their fashion,
+	Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.
+	Come Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow?
+
+CASCA	He doth; for he did bid Antonius
+	Send word to you he would be there to-morrow.
+
+CICERO	Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky
+	Is not to walk in.
+
+CASCA	Farewell, Cicero.
+
+	[Exit CICERO]
+
+	[Enter CASSIUS]
+
+CASSIUS	Who's there?
+
+CASCA	                  A Roman.
+
+CASSIUS	Casca, by your voice.
+
+CASCA	Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!
+
+CASSIUS	A very pleasing night to honest men.
+
+CASCA	Who ever knew the heavens menace so?
+
+CASSIUS	Those that have known the earth so full of faults.
+	For my part, I have walk'd about the streets,
+	Submitting me unto the perilous night,
+	And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see,
+	Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone;
+	And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open
+	The breast of heaven, I did present myself
+	Even in the aim and very flash of it.
+
+CASCA	But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens?
+	It is the part of men to fear and tremble,
+	When the most mighty gods by tokens send
+	Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.
+
+CASSIUS	You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life
+	That should be in a Roman you do want,
+	Or else you use not. You look pale and gaze
+	And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder,
+	To see the strange impatience of the heavens:
+	But if you would consider the true cause
+	Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,
+	Why birds and beasts from quality and kind,
+	Why old men fool and children calculate,
+	Why all these things change from their ordinance
+	Their natures and preformed faculties
+	To monstrous quality,--why, you shall find
+	That heaven hath infused them with these spirits,
+	To make them instruments of fear and warning
+	Unto some monstrous state.
+	Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man
+	Most like this dreadful night,
+	That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars
+	As doth the lion in the Capitol,
+	A man no mightier than thyself or me
+	In personal action, yet prodigious grown
+	And fearful, as these strange eruptions are.
+
+CASCA	'Tis Caesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius?
+
+CASSIUS	Let it be who it is: for Romans now
+	Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors;
+	But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead,
+	And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits;
+	Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish.
+
+CASCA	Indeed, they say the senators tomorrow
+	Mean to establish Caesar as a king;
+	And he shall wear his crown by sea and land,
+	In every place, save here in Italy.
+
+CASSIUS	I know where I will wear this dagger then;
+	Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius:
+	Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong;
+	Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat:
+	Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
+	Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
+	Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
+	But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
+	Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
+	If I know this, know all the world besides,
+	That part of tyranny that I do bear
+	I can shake off at pleasure.
+
+	[Thunder still]
+
+CASCA	So can I:
+	So every bondman in his own hand bears
+	The power to cancel his captivity.
+
+CASSIUS	And why should Caesar be a tyrant then?
+	Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf,
+	But that he sees the Romans are but sheep:
+	He were no lion, were not Romans hinds.
+	Those that with haste will make a mighty fire
+	Begin it with weak straws: what trash is Rome,
+	What rubbish and what offal, when it serves
+	For the base matter to illuminate
+	So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief,
+	Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this
+	Before a willing bondman; then I know
+	My answer must be made. But I am arm'd,
+	And dangers are to me indifferent.
+
+CASCA	You speak to Casca, and to such a man
+	That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand:
+	Be factious for redress of all these griefs,
+	And I will set this foot of mine as far
+	As who goes farthest.
+
+CASSIUS	There's a bargain made.
+	Now know you, Casca, I have moved already
+	Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans
+	To undergo with me an enterprise
+	Of honourable-dangerous consequence;
+	And I do know, by this, they stay for me
+	In Pompey's porch: for now, this fearful night,
+	There is no stir or walking in the streets;
+	And the complexion of the element
+	In favour's like the work we have in hand,
+	Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible.
+
+CASCA	Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste.
+
+CASSIUS	'Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait;
+	He is a friend.
+
+	[Enter CINNA]
+
+	Cinna, where haste you so?
+
+CINNA	To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber?
+
+CASSIUS	No, it is Casca; one incorporate
+	To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?
+
+CINNA	I am glad on 't. What a fearful night is this!
+	There's two or three of us have seen strange sights.
+
+CASSIUS	Am I not stay'd for? tell me.
+
+CINNA	Yes, you are.
+	O Cassius, if you could
+	But win the noble Brutus to our party--
+
+CASSIUS	Be you content: good Cinna, take this paper,
+	And look you lay it in the praetor's chair,
+	Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this
+	In at his window; set this up with wax
+	Upon old Brutus' statue: all this done,
+	Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us.
+	Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?
+
+CINNA	All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone
+	To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie,
+	And so bestow these papers as you bade me.
+
+CASSIUS	That done, repair to Pompey's theatre.
+
+	[Exit CINNA]
+
+	Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day
+	See Brutus at his house: three parts of him
+	Is ours already, and the man entire
+	Upon the next encounter yields him ours.
+
+CASCA	O, he sits high in all the people's hearts:
+	And that which would appear offence in us,
+	His countenance, like richest alchemy,
+	Will change to virtue and to worthiness.
+
+CASSIUS	Him and his worth and our great need of him
+	You have right well conceited. Let us go,
+	For it is after midnight; and ere day
+	We will awake him and be sure of him.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rome. BRUTUS's orchard.
+
+
+	[Enter BRUTUS]
+
+BRUTUS	What, Lucius, ho!
+	I cannot, by the progress of the stars,
+	Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say!
+	I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly.
+	When, Lucius, when? awake, I say! what, Lucius!
+
+	[Enter LUCIUS]
+
+LUCIUS	Call'd you, my lord?
+
+BRUTUS	Get me a taper in my study, Lucius:
+	When it is lighted, come and call me here.
+
+LUCIUS	I will, my lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BRUTUS	It must be by his death: and for my part,
+	I know no personal cause to spurn at him,
+	But for the general. He would be crown'd:
+	How that might change his nature, there's the question.
+	It is the bright day that brings forth the adder;
+	And that craves wary walking. Crown him?--that;--
+	And then, I grant, we put a sting in him,
+	That at his will he may do danger with.
+	The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins
+	Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar,
+	I have not known when his affections sway'd
+	More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof,
+	That lowliness is young ambition's ladder,
+	Whereto the climber-upward turns his face;
+	But when he once attains the upmost round.
+	He then unto the ladder turns his back,
+	Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
+	By which he did ascend. So Caesar may.
+	Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel
+	Will bear no colour for the thing he is,
+	Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,
+	Would run to these and these extremities:
+	And therefore think him as a serpent's egg
+	Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous,
+	And kill him in the shell.
+
+	[Re-enter LUCIUS]
+
+LUCIUS	The taper burneth in your closet, sir.
+	Searching the window for a flint, I found
+	This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure,
+	It did not lie there when I went to bed.
+
+	[Gives him the letter]
+
+BRUTUS	Get you to bed again; it is not day.
+	Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March?
+
+LUCIUS	I know not, sir.
+
+BRUTUS	Look in the calendar, and bring me word.
+
+LUCIUS	I will, sir.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BRUTUS	The exhalations whizzing in the air
+	Give so much light that I may read by them.
+
+	[Opens the letter and reads]
+
+	'Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, and see thyself.
+	Shall Rome, &c. Speak, strike, redress!
+	Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!'
+	Such instigations have been often dropp'd
+	Where I have took them up.
+	'Shall Rome, &c.' Thus must I piece it out:
+	Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome?
+	My ancestors did from the streets of Rome
+	The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king.
+	'Speak, strike, redress!' Am I entreated
+	To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise:
+	If the redress will follow, thou receivest
+	Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus!
+
+	[Re-enter LUCIUS]
+
+LUCIUS	Sir, March is wasted fourteen days.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+BRUTUS	'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks.
+
+	[Exit LUCIUS]
+
+	Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar,
+	I have not slept.
+	Between the acting of a dreadful thing
+	And the first motion, all the interim is
+	Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream:
+	The Genius and the mortal instruments
+	Are then in council; and the state of man,
+	Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
+	The nature of an insurrection.
+
+	[Re-enter LUCIUS]
+
+LUCIUS	Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door,
+	Who doth desire to see you.
+
+BRUTUS	Is he alone?
+
+LUCIUS	No, sir, there are moe with him.
+
+BRUTUS	Do you know them?
+
+LUCIUS	No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears,
+	And half their faces buried in their cloaks,
+	That by no means I may discover them
+	By any mark of favour.
+
+BRUTUS	Let 'em enter.
+
+	[Exit LUCIUS]
+
+	They are the faction. O conspiracy,
+	Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night,
+	When evils are most free? O, then by day
+	Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough
+	To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy;
+	Hide it in smiles and affability:
+	For if thou path, thy native semblance on,
+	Not Erebus itself were dim enough
+	To hide thee from prevention.
+
+	[Enter the conspirators, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS
+	BRUTUS, CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, and TREBONIUS]
+
+CASSIUS	I think we are too bold upon your rest:
+	Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you?
+
+BRUTUS	I have been up this hour, awake all night.
+	Know I these men that come along with you?
+
+CASSIUS	Yes, every man of them, and no man here
+	But honours you; and every one doth wish
+	You had but that opinion of yourself
+	Which every noble Roman bears of you.
+	This is Trebonius.
+
+BRUTUS	                  He is welcome hither.
+
+CASSIUS	This, Decius Brutus.
+
+BRUTUS	He is welcome too.
+
+CASSIUS	This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber.
+
+BRUTUS	They are all welcome.
+	What watchful cares do interpose themselves
+	Betwixt your eyes and night?
+
+CASSIUS	Shall I entreat a word?
+
+	[BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper]
+
+DECIUS BRUTUS	Here lies the east: doth not the day break here?
+
+CASCA	No.
+
+CINNA	O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines
+	That fret the clouds are messengers of day.
+
+CASCA	You shall confess that you are both deceived.
+	Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises,
+	Which is a great way growing on the south,
+	Weighing the youthful season of the year.
+	Some two months hence up higher toward the north
+	He first presents his fire; and the high east
+	Stands, as the Capitol, directly here.
+
+BRUTUS	Give me your hands all over, one by one.
+
+CASSIUS	And let us swear our resolution.
+
+BRUTUS	No, not an oath: if not the face of men,
+	The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,--
+	If these be motives weak, break off betimes,
+	And every man hence to his idle bed;
+	So let high-sighted tyranny range on,
+	Till each man drop by lottery. But if these,
+	As I am sure they do, bear fire enough
+	To kindle cowards and to steel with valour
+	The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen,
+	What need we any spur but our own cause,
+	To prick us to redress? what other bond
+	Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word,
+	And will not palter? and what other oath
+	Than honesty to honesty engaged,
+	That this shall be, or we will fall for it?
+	Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous,
+	Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls
+	That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear
+	Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain
+	The even virtue of our enterprise,
+	Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits,
+	To think that or our cause or our performance
+	Did need an oath; when every drop of blood
+	That every Roman bears, and nobly bears,
+	Is guilty of a several bastardy,
+	If he do break the smallest particle
+	Of any promise that hath pass'd from him.
+
+CASSIUS	But what of Cicero? shall we sound him?
+	I think he will stand very strong with us.
+
+CASCA	Let us not leave him out.
+
+CINNA	No, by no means.
+
+METELLUS CIMBER	O, let us have him, for his silver hairs
+	Will purchase us a good opinion
+	And buy men's voices to commend our deeds:
+	It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands;
+	Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear,
+	But all be buried in his gravity.
+
+BRUTUS	O, name him not: let us not break with him;
+	For he will never follow any thing
+	That other men begin.
+
+CASSIUS	Then leave him out.
+
+CASCA	Indeed he is not fit.
+
+DECIUS BRUTUS	Shall no man else be touch'd but only Caesar?
+
+CASSIUS	Decius, well urged: I think it is not meet,
+	Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar,
+	Should outlive Caesar: we shall find of him
+	A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means,
+	If he improve them, may well stretch so far
+	As to annoy us all: which to prevent,
+	Let Antony and Caesar fall together.
+
+BRUTUS	Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius,
+	To cut the head off and then hack the limbs,
+	Like wrath in death and envy afterwards;
+	For Antony is but a limb of Caesar:
+	Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius.
+	We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar;
+	And in the spirit of men there is no blood:
+	O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit,
+	And not dismember Caesar! But, alas,
+	Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends,
+	Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully;
+	Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
+	Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds:
+	And let our hearts, as subtle masters do,
+	Stir up their servants to an act of rage,
+	And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make
+	Our purpose necessary and not envious:
+	Which so appearing to the common eyes,
+	We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers.
+	And for Mark Antony, think not of him;
+	For he can do no more than Caesar's arm
+	When Caesar's head is off.
+
+CASSIUS	Yet I fear him;
+	For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar--
+
+BRUTUS	Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him:
+	If he love Caesar, all that he can do
+	Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar:
+	And that were much he should; for he is given
+	To sports, to wildness and much company.
+
+TREBONIUS	There is no fear in him; let him not die;
+	For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.
+
+	[Clock strikes]
+
+BRUTUS	Peace! count the clock.
+
+CASSIUS	The clock hath stricken three.
+
+TREBONIUS	'Tis time to part.
+
+CASSIUS	                  But it is doubtful yet,
+	Whether Caesar will come forth to-day, or no;
+	For he is superstitious grown of late,
+	Quite from the main opinion he held once
+	Of fantasy, of dreams and ceremonies:
+	It may be, these apparent prodigies,
+	The unaccustom'd terror of this night,
+	And the persuasion of his augurers,
+	May hold him from the Capitol to-day.
+
+DECIUS BRUTUS	Never fear that: if he be so resolved,
+	I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear
+	That unicorns may be betray'd with trees,
+	And bears with glasses, elephants with holes,
+	Lions with toils and men with flatterers;
+	But when I tell him he hates flatterers,
+	He says he does, being then most flattered.
+	Let me work;
+	For I can give his humour the true bent,
+	And I will bring him to the Capitol.
+
+CASSIUS	Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him.
+
+BRUTUS	By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost?
+
+CINNA	Be that the uttermost, and fail not then.
+
+METELLUS CIMBER	Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard,
+	Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey:
+	I wonder none of you have thought of him.
+
+BRUTUS	Now, good Metellus, go along by him:
+	He loves me well, and I have given him reasons;
+	Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him.
+
+CASSIUS	The morning comes upon 's: we'll leave you, Brutus.
+	And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember
+	What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans.
+
+BRUTUS	Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily;
+	Let not our looks put on our purposes,
+	But bear it as our Roman actors do,
+	With untired spirits and formal constancy:
+	And so good morrow to you every one.
+
+	[Exeunt all but BRUTUS]
+
+	Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter;
+	Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber:
+	Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies,
+	Which busy care draws in the brains of men;
+	Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
+
+	[Enter PORTIA]
+
+PORTIA	Brutus, my lord!
+
+BRUTUS	Portia, what mean you? wherefore rise you now?
+	It is not for your health thus to commit
+	Your weak condition to the raw cold morning.
+
+PORTIA	Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus,
+	Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper,
+	You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,
+	Musing and sighing, with your arms across,
+	And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
+	You stared upon me with ungentle looks;
+	I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head,
+	And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot;
+	Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not,
+	But, with an angry wafture of your hand,
+	Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did;
+	Fearing to strengthen that impatience
+	Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal
+	Hoping it was but an effect of humour,
+	Which sometime hath his hour with every man.
+	It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep,
+	And could it work so much upon your shape
+	As it hath much prevail'd on your condition,
+	I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,
+	Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.
+
+BRUTUS	I am not well in health, and that is all.
+
+PORTIA	Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health,
+	He would embrace the means to come by it.
+
+BRUTUS	Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed.
+
+PORTIA	Is Brutus sick? and is it physical
+	To walk unbraced and suck up the humours
+	Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick,
+	And will he steal out of his wholesome bed,
+	To dare the vile contagion of the night
+	And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air
+	To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus;
+	You have some sick offence within your mind,
+	Which, by the right and virtue of my place,
+	I ought to know of: and, upon my knees,
+	I charm you, by my once-commended beauty,
+	By all your vows of love and that great vow
+	Which did incorporate and make us one,
+	That you unfold to me, yourself, your half,
+	Why you are heavy, and what men to-night
+	Have had to resort to you: for here have been
+	Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
+	Even from darkness.
+
+BRUTUS	Kneel not, gentle Portia.
+
+PORTIA	I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus.
+	Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus,
+	Is it excepted I should know no secrets
+	That appertain to you? Am I yourself
+	But, as it were, in sort or limitation,
+	To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed,
+	And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs
+	Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,
+	Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.
+
+BRUTUS	You are my true and honourable wife,
+	As dear to me as are the ruddy drops
+	That visit my sad heart
+
+PORTIA	If this were true, then should I know this secret.
+	I grant I am a woman; but withal
+	A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife:
+	I grant I am a woman; but withal
+	A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter.
+	Think you I am no stronger than my sex,
+	Being so father'd and so husbanded?
+	Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em:
+	I have made strong proof of my constancy,
+	Giving myself a voluntary wound
+	Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience.
+	And not my husband's secrets?
+
+BRUTUS	O ye gods,
+
+	Render me worthy of this noble wife!
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+	Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile;
+	And by and by thy bosom shall partake
+	The secrets of my heart.
+	All my engagements I will construe to thee,
+	All the charactery of my sad brows:
+	Leave me with haste.
+
+	[Exit PORTIA]
+
+		Lucius, who's that knocks?
+
+	[Re-enter LUCIUS with LIGARIUS]
+
+LUCIUS	He is a sick man that would speak with you.
+
+BRUTUS	Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.
+	Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how?
+
+LIGARIUS	Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue.
+
+BRUTUS	O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius,
+	To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick!
+
+LIGARIUS	I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand
+	Any exploit worthy the name of honour.
+
+BRUTUS	Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius,
+	Had you a healthful ear to hear of it.
+
+LIGARIUS	By all the gods that Romans bow before,
+	I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome!
+	Brave son, derived from honourable loins!
+	Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up
+	My mortified spirit. Now bid me run,
+	And I will strive with things impossible;
+	Yea, get the better of them. What's to do?
+
+BRUTUS	A piece of work that will make sick men whole.
+
+LIGARIUS	But are not some whole that we must make sick?
+
+BRUTUS	That must we also. What it is, my Caius,
+	I shall unfold to thee, as we are going
+	To whom it must be done.
+
+LIGARIUS	Set on your foot,
+	And with a heart new-fired I follow you,
+	To do I know not what: but it sufficeth
+	That Brutus leads me on.
+
+BRUTUS	Follow me, then.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	CAESAR's house.
+
+
+	[Thunder and lightning. Enter CAESAR, in his
+	night-gown]
+
+CAESAR	Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night:
+	Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out,
+	'Help, ho! they murder Caesar!' Who's within?
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+Servant	My lord?
+
+CAESAR	Go bid the priests do present sacrifice
+	And bring me their opinions of success.
+
+Servant	I will, my lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter CALPURNIA]
+
+CALPURNIA	What mean you, Caesar? think you to walk forth?
+	You shall not stir out of your house to-day.
+
+CAESAR	Caesar shall forth: the things that threaten'd me
+	Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see
+	The face of Caesar, they are vanished.
+
+CALPURNIA	Caesar, I never stood on ceremonies,
+	Yet now they fright me. There is one within,
+	Besides the things that we have heard and seen,
+	Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch.
+	A lioness hath whelped in the streets;
+	And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead;
+	Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds,
+	In ranks and squadrons and right form of war,
+	Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol;
+	The noise of battle hurtled in the air,
+	Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan,
+	And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets.
+	O Caesar! these things are beyond all use,
+	And I do fear them.
+
+CAESAR	What can be avoided
+	Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods?
+	Yet Caesar shall go forth; for these predictions
+	Are to the world in general as to Caesar.
+
+CALPURNIA	When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
+	The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
+
+CAESAR	Cowards die many times before their deaths;
+	The valiant never taste of death but once.
+	Of all the wonders that I yet have heard.
+	It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
+	Seeing that death, a necessary end,
+	Will come when it will come.
+
+	[Re-enter Servant]
+
+		       What say the augurers?
+
+Servant	They would not have you to stir forth to-day.
+	Plucking the entrails of an offering forth,
+	They could not find a heart within the beast.
+
+CAESAR	The gods do this in shame of cowardice:
+	Caesar should be a beast without a heart,
+	If he should stay at home to-day for fear.
+	No, Caesar shall not: danger knows full well
+	That Caesar is more dangerous than he:
+	We are two lions litter'd in one day,
+	And I the elder and more terrible:
+	And Caesar shall go forth.
+
+CALPURNIA	Alas, my lord,
+	Your wisdom is consumed in confidence.
+	Do not go forth to-day: call it my fear
+	That keeps you in the house, and not your own.
+	We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house:
+	And he shall say you are not well to-day:
+	Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this.
+
+CAESAR	Mark Antony shall say I am not well,
+	And, for thy humour, I will stay at home.
+
+	[Enter DECIUS BRUTUS]
+
+	Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so.
+
+DECIUS BRUTUS	Caesar, all hail! good morrow, worthy Caesar:
+	I come to fetch you to the senate-house.
+
+CAESAR	And you are come in very happy time,
+	To bear my greeting to the senators
+	And tell them that I will not come to-day:
+	Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser:
+	I will not come to-day: tell them so, Decius.
+
+CALPURNIA	Say he is sick.
+
+CAESAR	                  Shall Caesar send a lie?
+	Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far,
+	To be afraid to tell graybeards the truth?
+	Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come.
+
+DECIUS BRUTUS	Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,
+	Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so.
+
+CAESAR	The cause is in my will: I will not come;
+	That is enough to satisfy the senate.
+	But for your private satisfaction,
+	Because I love you, I will let you know:
+	Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home:
+	She dreamt to-night she saw my statua,
+	Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts,
+	Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans
+	Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it:
+	And these does she apply for warnings, and portents,
+	And evils imminent; and on her knee
+	Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day.
+
+DECIUS BRUTUS	This dream is all amiss interpreted;
+	It was a vision fair and fortunate:
+	Your statue spouting blood in many pipes,
+	In which so many smiling Romans bathed,
+	Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck
+	Reviving blood, and that great men shall press
+	For tinctures, stains, relics and cognizance.
+	This by Calpurnia's dream is signified.
+
+CAESAR	And this way have you well expounded it.
+
+DECIUS BRUTUS	I have, when you have heard what I can say:
+	And know it now: the senate have concluded
+	To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar.
+	If you shall send them word you will not come,
+	Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock
+	Apt to be render'd, for some one to say
+	'Break up the senate till another time,
+	When Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams.'
+	If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper
+	'Lo, Caesar is afraid'?
+	Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love
+	To our proceeding bids me tell you this;
+	And reason to my love is liable.
+
+CAESAR	How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia!
+	I am ashamed I did yield to them.
+	Give me my robe, for I will go.
+
+	[Enter PUBLIUS, BRUTUS, LIGARIUS, METELLUS, CASCA,
+	TREBONIUS, and CINNA]
+
+	And look where Publius is come to fetch me.
+
+PUBLIUS	Good morrow, Caesar.
+
+CAESAR	Welcome, Publius.
+	What, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too?
+	Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius,
+	Caesar was ne'er so much your enemy
+	As that same ague which hath made you lean.
+	What is 't o'clock?
+
+BRUTUS	Caesar, 'tis strucken eight.
+
+CAESAR	I thank you for your pains and courtesy.
+
+	[Enter ANTONY]
+
+	See! Antony, that revels long o' nights,
+	Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony.
+
+ANTONY	So to most noble Caesar.
+
+CAESAR	Bid them prepare within:
+	I am to blame to be thus waited for.
+	Now, Cinna: now, Metellus: what, Trebonius!
+	I have an hour's talk in store for you;
+	Remember that you call on me to-day:
+	Be near me, that I may remember you.
+
+TREBONIUS	Caesar, I will:
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	and so near will I be,
+	That your best friends shall wish I had been further.
+
+CAESAR	Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me;
+	And we, like friends, will straightway go together.
+
+BRUTUS	[Aside]  That every like is not the same, O Caesar,
+	The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A street near the Capitol.
+
+
+	[Enter ARTEMIDORUS, reading a paper]
+
+ARTEMIDORUS	'Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius;
+	come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna, trust not
+	Trebonius: mark well Metellus Cimber: Decius Brutus
+	loves thee not: thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius.
+	There is but one mind in all these men, and it is
+	bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal,
+	look about you: security gives way to conspiracy.
+	The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover,
+		'ARTEMIDORUS.'
+	Here will I stand till Caesar pass along,
+	And as a suitor will I give him this.
+	My heart laments that virtue cannot live
+	Out of the teeth of emulation.
+	If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayst live;
+	If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Another part of the same street, before the house of BRUTUS.
+
+
+	[Enter PORTIA and LUCIUS]
+
+PORTIA	I prithee, boy, run to the senate-house;
+	Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone:
+	Why dost thou stay?
+
+LUCIUS	To know my errand, madam.
+
+PORTIA	I would have had thee there, and here again,
+	Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there.
+	O constancy, be strong upon my side,
+	Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue!
+	I have a man's mind, but a woman's might.
+	How hard it is for women to keep counsel!
+	Art thou here yet?
+
+LUCIUS	                  Madam, what should I do?
+	Run to the Capitol, and nothing else?
+	And so return to you, and nothing else?
+
+PORTIA	Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well,
+	For he went sickly forth: and take good note
+	What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him.
+	Hark, boy! what noise is that?
+
+LUCIUS	I hear none, madam.
+
+PORTIA	Prithee, listen well;
+	I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray,
+	And the wind brings it from the Capitol.
+
+LUCIUS	Sooth, madam, I hear nothing.
+
+	[Enter the Soothsayer]
+
+PORTIA	Come hither, fellow: which way hast thou been?
+
+Soothsayer	At mine own house, good lady.
+
+PORTIA	What is't o'clock?
+
+Soothsayer	                  About the ninth hour, lady.
+
+PORTIA	Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol?
+
+Soothsayer	Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand,
+	To see him pass on to the Capitol.
+
+PORTIA	Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not?
+
+Soothsayer	That I have, lady: if it will please Caesar
+	To be so good to Caesar as to hear me,
+	I shall beseech him to befriend himself.
+
+PORTIA	Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him?
+
+Soothsayer	None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance.
+	Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow:
+	The throng that follows Caesar at the heels,
+	Of senators, of praetors, common suitors,
+	Will crowd a feeble man almost to death:
+	I'll get me to a place more void, and there
+	Speak to great Caesar as he comes along.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PORTIA	I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing
+	The heart of woman is! O Brutus,
+	The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise!
+	Sure, the boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit
+	That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint.
+	Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord;
+	Say I am merry: come to me again,
+	And bring me word what he doth say to thee.
+
+	[Exeunt severally]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above.
+
+
+	[A crowd of people; among them ARTEMIDORUS and the
+	Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter CAESAR, BRUTUS,
+	CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, METELLUS CIMBER,
+	TREBONIUS, CINNA, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POPILIUS,
+	PUBLIUS, and others]
+
+CAESAR	[To the Soothsayer]  The ides of March are come.
+
+Soothsayer	Ay, Caesar; but not gone.
+
+ARTEMIDORUS	Hail, Caesar! read this schedule.
+
+DECIUS BRUTUS	Trebonius doth desire you to o'erread,
+	At your best leisure, this his humble suit.
+
+ARTEMIDORUS	O Caesar, read mine first; for mine's a suit
+	That touches Caesar nearer: read it, great Caesar.
+
+CAESAR	What touches us ourself shall be last served.
+
+ARTEMIDORUS	Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly.
+
+CAESAR	What, is the fellow mad?
+
+PUBLIUS	Sirrah, give place.
+
+CASSIUS	What, urge you your petitions in the street?
+	Come to the Capitol.
+
+	[CAESAR goes up to the Senate-House, the rest
+	following]
+
+POPILIUS	I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive.
+
+CASSIUS	What enterprise, Popilius?
+
+POPILIUS	Fare you well.
+
+	[Advances to CAESAR]
+
+BRUTUS	What said Popilius Lena?
+
+CASSIUS	He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive.
+	I fear our purpose is discovered.
+
+BRUTUS	Look, how he makes to Caesar; mark him.
+
+CASSIUS	Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention.
+	Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known,
+	Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back,
+	For I will slay myself.
+
+BRUTUS	Cassius, be constant:
+	Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes;
+	For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change.
+
+CASSIUS	Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus.
+	He draws Mark Antony out of the way.
+
+	[Exeunt ANTONY and TREBONIUS]
+
+DECIUS BRUTUS	Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go,
+	And presently prefer his suit to Caesar.
+
+BRUTUS	He is address'd: press near and second him.
+
+CINNA	Casca, you are the first that rears your hand.
+
+CAESAR	Are we all ready? What is now amiss
+	That Caesar and his senate must redress?
+
+METELLUS CIMBER	Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar,
+	Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat
+	An humble heart,--
+
+	[Kneeling]
+
+CAESAR	                  I must prevent thee, Cimber.
+	These couchings and these lowly courtesies
+	Might fire the blood of ordinary men,
+	And turn pre-ordinance and first decree
+	Into the law of children. Be not fond,
+	To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood
+	That will be thaw'd from the true quality
+	With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words,
+	Low-crooked court'sies and base spaniel-fawning.
+	Thy brother by decree is banished:
+	If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him,
+	I spurn thee like a cur out of my way.
+	Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause
+	Will he be satisfied.
+
+METELLUS CIMBER	Is there no voice more worthy than my own
+	To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear
+	For the repealing of my banish'd brother?
+
+BRUTUS	I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar;
+	Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may
+	Have an immediate freedom of repeal.
+
+CAESAR	What, Brutus!
+
+CASSIUS	                  Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon:
+	As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall,
+	To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber.
+
+CASSIUS	I could be well moved, if I were as you:
+	If I could pray to move, prayers would move me:
+	But I am constant as the northern star,
+	Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality
+	There is no fellow in the firmament.
+	The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks,
+	They are all fire and every one doth shine,
+	But there's but one in all doth hold his place:
+	So in the world; 'tis furnish'd well with men,
+	And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive;
+	Yet in the number I do know but one
+	That unassailable holds on his rank,
+	Unshaked of motion: and that I am he,
+	Let me a little show it, even in this;
+	That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd,
+	And constant do remain to keep him so.
+
+CINNA	O Caesar,--
+
+CAESAR	          Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus?
+
+DECIUS BRUTUS	Great Caesar,--
+
+CAESAR	                  Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?
+
+CASCA	Speak, hands for me!
+
+	[CASCA first, then the other Conspirators and
+	BRUTUS stab CAESAR]
+
+CAESAR	Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+CINNA	Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!
+	Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.
+
+CASSIUS	Some to the common pulpits, and cry out
+	'Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!'
+
+BRUTUS	People and senators, be not affrighted;
+	Fly not; stand stiff: ambition's debt is paid.
+
+CASCA	Go to the pulpit, Brutus.
+
+DECIUS BRUTUS	And Cassius too.
+
+BRUTUS	Where's Publius?
+
+CINNA	Here, quite confounded with this mutiny.
+
+METELLUS CIMBER	Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar's
+	Should chance--
+
+BRUTUS	Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer;
+	There is no harm intended to your person,
+	Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius.
+
+CASSIUS	And leave us, Publius; lest that the people,
+	Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief.
+
+BRUTUS	Do so: and let no man abide this deed,
+	But we the doers.
+
+	[Re-enter TREBONIUS]
+
+CASSIUS	                  Where is Antony?
+
+TREBONIUS	Fled to his house amazed:
+	Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run
+	As it were doomsday.
+
+BRUTUS	Fates, we will know your pleasures:
+	That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time
+	And drawing days out, that men stand upon.
+
+CASSIUS	Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life
+	Cuts off so many years of fearing death.
+
+BRUTUS	Grant that, and then is death a benefit:
+	So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged
+	His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop,
+	And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood
+	Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords:
+	Then walk we forth, even to the market-place,
+	And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads,
+	Let's all cry 'Peace, freedom and liberty!'
+
+CASSIUS	Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence
+	Shall this our lofty scene be acted over
+	In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
+
+BRUTUS	How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,
+	That now on Pompey's basis lies along
+	No worthier than the dust!
+
+CASSIUS	So oft as that shall be,
+	So often shall the knot of us be call'd
+	The men that gave their country liberty.
+
+DECIUS BRUTUS	What, shall we forth?
+
+CASSIUS	Ay, every man away:
+	Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels
+	With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+BRUTUS	Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony's.
+
+Servant	Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel:
+	Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down;
+	And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say:
+	Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest;
+	Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving:
+	Say I love Brutus, and I honour him;
+	Say I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him and loved him.
+	If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony
+	May safely come to him, and be resolved
+	How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death,
+	Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead
+	So well as Brutus living; but will follow
+	The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus
+	Thorough the hazards of this untrod state
+	With all true faith. So says my master Antony.
+
+BRUTUS	Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman;
+	I never thought him worse.
+	Tell him, so please him come unto this place,
+	He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour,
+	Depart untouch'd.
+
+Servant	                  I'll fetch him presently.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BRUTUS	I know that we shall have him well to friend.
+
+CASSIUS	I wish we may: but yet have I a mind
+	That fears him much; and my misgiving still
+	Falls shrewdly to the purpose.
+
+BRUTUS	But here comes Antony.
+
+	[Re-enter ANTONY]
+
+		 Welcome, Mark Antony.
+
+ANTONY	O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low?
+	Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils,
+	Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well.
+	I know not, gentlemen, what you intend,
+	Who else must be let blood, who else is rank:
+	If I myself, there is no hour so fit
+	As Caesar's death hour, nor no instrument
+	Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich
+	With the most noble blood of all this world.
+	I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard,
+	Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke,
+	Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years,
+	I shall not find myself so apt to die:
+	No place will please me so, no mean of death,
+	As here by Caesar, and by you cut off,
+	The choice and master spirits of this age.
+
+BRUTUS	O Antony, beg not your death of us.
+	Though now we must appear bloody and cruel,
+	As, by our hands and this our present act,
+	You see we do, yet see you but our hands
+	And this the bleeding business they have done:
+	Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful;
+	And pity to the general wrong of Rome--
+	As fire drives out fire, so pity pity--
+	Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part,
+	To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony:
+	Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts
+	Of brothers' temper, do receive you in
+	With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence.
+
+CASSIUS	Your voice shall be as strong as any man's
+	In the disposing of new dignities.
+
+BRUTUS	Only be patient till we have appeased
+	The multitude, beside themselves with fear,
+	And then we will deliver you the cause,
+	Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him,
+	Have thus proceeded.
+
+ANTONY	I doubt not of your wisdom.
+	Let each man render me his bloody hand:
+	First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you;
+	Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand;
+	Now, Decius Brutus, yours: now yours, Metellus;
+	Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours;
+	Though last, not last in love, yours, good Trebonius.
+	Gentlemen all,--alas, what shall I say?
+	My credit now stands on such slippery ground,
+	That one of two bad ways you must conceit me,
+	Either a coward or a flatterer.
+	That I did love thee, Caesar, O, 'tis true:
+	If then thy spirit look upon us now,
+	Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death,
+	To see thy thy Anthony making his peace,
+	Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes,
+	Most noble! in the presence of thy corse?
+	Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds,
+	Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood,
+	It would become me better than to close
+	In terms of friendship with thine enemies.
+	Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay'd, brave hart;
+	Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand,
+	Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe.
+	O world, thou wast the forest to this hart;
+	And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee.
+	How like a deer, strucken by many princes,
+	Dost thou here lie!
+
+CASSIUS	Mark Antony,--
+
+ANTONY	                  Pardon me, Caius Cassius:
+	The enemies of Caesar shall say this;
+	Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty.
+
+CASSIUS	I blame you not for praising Caesar so;
+	But what compact mean you to have with us?
+	Will you be prick'd in number of our friends;
+	Or shall we on, and not depend on you?
+
+ANTONY	Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed,
+	Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Caesar.
+	Friends am I with you all and love you all,
+	Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons
+	Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous.
+
+BRUTUS	Or else were this a savage spectacle:
+	Our reasons are so full of good regard
+	That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar,
+	You should be satisfied.
+
+ANTONY	That's all I seek:
+	And am moreover suitor that I may
+	Produce his body to the market-place;
+	And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend,
+	Speak in the order of his funeral.
+
+BRUTUS	You shall, Mark Antony.
+
+CASSIUS	Brutus, a word with you.
+
+	[Aside to BRUTUS]
+
+	You know not what you do: do not consent
+	That Antony speak in his funeral:
+	Know you how much the people may be moved
+	By that which he will utter?
+
+BRUTUS	By your pardon;
+	I will myself into the pulpit first,
+	And show the reason of our Caesar's death:
+	What Antony shall speak, I will protest
+	He speaks by leave and by permission,
+	And that we are contented Caesar shall
+	Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies.
+	It shall advantage more than do us wrong.
+
+CASSIUS	I know not what may fall; I like it not.
+
+BRUTUS	Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar's body.
+	You shall not in your funeral speech blame us,
+	But speak all good you can devise of Caesar,
+	And say you do't by our permission;
+	Else shall you not have any hand at all
+	About his funeral: and you shall speak
+	In the same pulpit whereto I am going,
+	After my speech is ended.
+
+ANTONY	Be it so.
+	I do desire no more.
+
+BRUTUS	Prepare the body then, and follow us.
+
+	[Exeunt all but ANTONY]
+
+ANTONY	O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
+	That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
+	Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
+	That ever lived in the tide of times.
+	Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
+	Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,--
+	Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips,
+	To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue--
+	A curse shall light upon the limbs of men;
+	Domestic fury and fierce civil strife
+	Shall cumber all the parts of Italy;
+	Blood and destruction shall be so in use
+	And dreadful objects so familiar
+	That mothers shall but smile when they behold
+	Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war;
+	All pity choked with custom of fell deeds:
+	And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
+	With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
+	Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
+	Cry  'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;
+	That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
+	With carrion men, groaning for burial.
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+	You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not?
+
+Servant	I do, Mark Antony.
+
+ANTONY	Caesar did write for him to come to Rome.
+
+Servant	He did receive his letters, and is coming;
+	And bid me say to you by word of mouth--
+	O Caesar!--
+
+	[Seeing the body]
+
+ANTONY	Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep.
+	Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes,
+	Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine,
+	Began to water. Is thy master coming?
+
+Servant	He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome.
+
+ANTONY	Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced:
+	Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,
+	No Rome of safety for Octavius yet;
+	Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile;
+	Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse
+	Into the market-place: there shall I try
+	In my oration, how the people take
+	The cruel issue of these bloody men;
+	According to the which, thou shalt discourse
+	To young Octavius of the state of things.
+	Lend me your hand.
+
+	[Exeunt with CAESAR's body]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The Forum.
+
+
+	[Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS, and a throng of Citizens]
+
+Citizens	We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied.
+
+BRUTUS	Then follow me, and give me audience, friends.
+	Cassius, go you into the other street,
+	And part the numbers.
+	Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here;
+	Those that will follow Cassius, go with him;
+	And public reasons shall be rendered
+	Of Caesar's death.
+
+First Citizen	                  I will hear Brutus speak.
+
+Second Citizen	I will hear Cassius; and compare their reasons,
+	When severally we hear them rendered.
+
+	[Exit CASSIUS, with some of the Citizens. BRUTUS
+	goes into the pulpit]
+
+Third Citizen	The noble Brutus is ascended: silence!
+
+BRUTUS	Be patient till the last.
+
+	Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my
+	cause, and be silent, that you may hear: believe me
+	for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that
+	you may believe: censure me in your wisdom, and
+	awake your senses, that you may the better judge.
+	If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of
+	Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar
+	was no less than his. If then that friend demand
+	why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer:
+	--Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved
+	Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living and
+	die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live
+	all free men? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him;
+	as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was
+	valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I
+	slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his
+	fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his
+	ambition. Who is here so base that would be a
+	bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended.
+	Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If
+	any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so
+	vile that will not love his country? If any, speak;
+	for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.
+
+All	None, Brutus, none.
+
+BRUTUS	Then none have I offended. I have done no more to
+	Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of
+	his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not
+	extenuated, wherein he was worthy, nor his offences
+	enforced, for which he suffered death.
+
+	[Enter ANTONY and others, with CAESAR's body]
+
+	Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who,
+	though he had no hand in his death, shall receive
+	the benefit of his dying, a place in the
+	commonwealth; as which of you shall not? With this
+	I depart,--that, as I slew my best lover for the
+	good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself,
+	when it shall please my country to need my death.
+
+All	Live, Brutus! live, live!
+
+First Citizen	Bring him with triumph home unto his house.
+
+Second Citizen	Give him a statue with his ancestors.
+
+Third Citizen	Let him be Caesar.
+
+Fourth Citizen	                  Caesar's better parts
+	Shall be crown'd in Brutus.
+
+First Citizen	We'll bring him to his house
+	With shouts and clamours.
+
+BRUTUS	My countrymen,--
+
+Second Citizen	Peace, silence! Brutus speaks.
+
+First Citizen	Peace, ho!
+
+BRUTUS	Good countrymen, let me depart alone,
+	And, for my sake, stay here with Antony:
+	Do grace to Caesar's corpse, and grace his speech
+	Tending to Caesar's glories; which Mark Antony,
+	By our permission, is allow'd to make.
+	I do entreat you, not a man depart,
+	Save I alone, till Antony have spoke.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+First Citizen	Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony.
+
+Third Citizen	Let him go up into the public chair;
+	We'll hear him. Noble Antony, go up.
+
+ANTONY	For Brutus' sake, I am beholding to you.
+
+	[Goes into the pulpit]
+
+Fourth Citizen	What does he say of Brutus?
+
+Third Citizen	He says, for Brutus' sake,
+	He finds himself beholding to us all.
+
+Fourth Citizen	'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here.
+
+First Citizen	This Caesar was a tyrant.
+
+Third Citizen	Nay, that's certain:
+	We are blest that Rome is rid of him.
+
+Second Citizen	Peace! let us hear what Antony can say.
+
+ANTONY	You gentle Romans,--
+
+Citizens	Peace, ho! let us hear him.
+
+ANTONY	Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
+	I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
+	The evil that men do lives after them;
+	The good is oft interred with their bones;
+	So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus
+	Hath told you Caesar was ambitious:
+	If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
+	And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it.
+	Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest--
+	For Brutus is an honourable man;
+	So are they all, all honourable men--
+	Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.
+	He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
+	But Brutus says he was ambitious;
+	And Brutus is an honourable man.
+	He hath brought many captives home to Rome
+	Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
+	Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
+	When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:
+	Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
+	Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
+	And Brutus is an honourable man.
+	You all did see that on the Lupercal
+	I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
+	Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
+	Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
+	And, sure, he is an honourable man.
+	I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
+	But here I am to speak what I do know.
+	You all did love him once, not without cause:
+	What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?
+	O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
+	And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;
+	My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
+	And I must pause till it come back to me.
+
+First Citizen	Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.
+
+Second Citizen	If thou consider rightly of the matter,
+	Caesar has had great wrong.
+
+Third Citizen	Has he, masters?
+	I fear there will a worse come in his place.
+
+Fourth Citizen	Mark'd ye his words? He would not take the crown;
+	Therefore 'tis certain he was not ambitious.
+
+First Citizen	If it be found so, some will dear abide it.
+
+Second Citizen	Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping.
+
+Third Citizen	There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.
+
+Fourth Citizen	Now mark him, he begins again to speak.
+
+ANTONY	But yesterday the word of Caesar might
+	Have stood against the world; now lies he there.
+	And none so poor to do him reverence.
+	O masters, if I were disposed to stir
+	Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
+	I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,
+	Who, you all know, are honourable men:
+	I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
+	To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,
+	Than I will wrong such honourable men.
+	But here's a parchment with the seal of Caesar;
+	I found it in his closet, 'tis his will:
+	Let but the commons hear this testament--
+	Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read--
+	And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds
+	And dip their napkins in his sacred blood,
+	Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,
+	And, dying, mention it within their wills,
+	Bequeathing it as a rich legacy
+	Unto their issue.
+
+Fourth Citizen	We'll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.
+
+All	The will, the will! we will hear Caesar's will.
+
+ANTONY	Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;
+	It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you.
+	You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;
+	And, being men, bearing the will of Caesar,
+	It will inflame you, it will make you mad:
+	'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs;
+	For, if you should, O, what would come of it!
+
+Fourth Citizen	Read the will; we'll hear it, Antony;
+	You shall read us the will, Caesar's will.
+
+ANTONY	Will you be patient? will you stay awhile?
+	I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it:
+	I fear I wrong the honourable men
+	Whose daggers have stabb'd Caesar; I do fear it.
+
+Fourth Citizen	They were traitors: honourable men!
+
+All	The will! the testament!
+
+Second Citizen	They were villains, murderers: the will! read the will.
+
+ANTONY	You will compel me, then, to read the will?
+	Then make a ring about the corpse of Caesar,
+	And let me show you him that made the will.
+	Shall I descend? and will you give me leave?
+
+Several Citizens	Come down.
+
+Second Citizen	Descend.
+
+Third Citizen	You shall have leave.
+
+	[ANTONY comes down]
+
+Fourth Citizen	A ring; stand round.
+
+First Citizen	Stand from the hearse, stand from the body.
+
+Second Citizen	Room for Antony, most noble Antony.
+
+ANTONY	Nay, press not so upon me; stand far off.
+
+Several Citizens	Stand back; room; bear back.
+
+ANTONY	If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
+	You all do know this mantle: I remember
+	The first time ever Caesar put it on;
+	'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent,
+	That day he overcame the Nervii:
+	Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through:
+	See what a rent the envious Casca made:
+	Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd;
+	And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,
+	Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it,
+	As rushing out of doors, to be resolved
+	If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no;
+	For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel:
+	Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him!
+	This was the most unkindest cut of all;
+	For when the noble Caesar saw him stab,
+	Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms,
+	Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart;
+	And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
+	Even at the base of Pompey's statua,
+	Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.
+	O, what a fall was there, my countrymen!
+	Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
+	Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.
+	O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel
+	The dint of pity: these are gracious drops.
+	Kind souls, what, weep you when you but behold
+	Our Caesar's vesture wounded? Look you here,
+	Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.
+
+First Citizen	O piteous spectacle!
+
+Second Citizen	O noble Caesar!
+
+Third Citizen	O woful day!
+
+Fourth Citizen	O traitors, villains!
+
+First Citizen	O most bloody sight!
+
+Second Citizen	We will be revenged.
+
+All	Revenge! About! Seek! Burn! Fire! Kill! Slay!
+	Let not a traitor live!
+
+ANTONY	Stay, countrymen.
+
+First Citizen	Peace there! hear the noble Antony.
+
+Second Citizen	We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with him.
+
+ANTONY	Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up
+	To such a sudden flood of mutiny.
+	They that have done this deed are honourable:
+	What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,
+	That made them do it: they are wise and honourable,
+	And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.
+	I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts:
+	I am no orator, as Brutus is;
+	But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man,
+	That love my friend; and that they know full well
+	That gave me public leave to speak of him:
+	For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
+	Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
+	To stir men's blood: I only speak right on;
+	I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
+	Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor poor dumb mouths,
+	And bid them speak for me: but were I Brutus,
+	And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
+	Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue
+	In every wound of Caesar that should move
+	The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
+
+All	We'll mutiny.
+
+First Citizen	We'll burn the house of Brutus.
+
+Third Citizen	Away, then! come, seek the conspirators.
+
+ANTONY	Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.
+
+All	Peace, ho! Hear Antony. Most noble Antony!
+
+ANTONY	Why, friends, you go to do you know not what:
+	Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves?
+	Alas, you know not: I must tell you then:
+	You have forgot the will I told you of.
+
+All	Most true. The will! Let's stay and hear the will.
+
+ANTONY	Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal.
+	To every Roman citizen he gives,
+	To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.
+
+Second Citizen	Most noble Caesar! We'll revenge his death.
+
+Third Citizen	O royal Caesar!
+
+ANTONY	Hear me with patience.
+
+All	Peace, ho!
+
+ANTONY	Moreover, he hath left you all his walks,
+	His private arbours and new-planted orchards,
+	On this side Tiber; he hath left them you,
+	And to your heirs for ever, common pleasures,
+	To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves.
+	Here was a Caesar! when comes such another?
+
+First Citizen	Never, never. Come, away, away!
+	We'll burn his body in the holy place,
+	And with the brands fire the traitors' houses.
+	Take up the body.
+
+Second Citizen	Go fetch fire.
+
+Third Citizen	Pluck down benches.
+
+Fourth Citizen	Pluck down forms, windows, any thing.
+
+	[Exeunt Citizens with the body]
+
+ANTONY	Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot,
+	Take thou what course thou wilt!
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+		                  How now, fellow!
+
+Servant	Sir, Octavius is already come to Rome.
+
+ANTONY	Where is he?
+
+Servant	He and Lepidus are at Caesar's house.
+
+ANTONY	And thither will I straight to visit him:
+	He comes upon a wish. Fortune is merry,
+	And in this mood will give us any thing.
+
+Servant	I heard him say, Brutus and Cassius
+	Are rid like madmen through the gates of Rome.
+
+ANTONY	Belike they had some notice of the people,
+	How I had moved them. Bring me to Octavius.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A street.
+
+
+	[Enter CINNA the poet]
+
+CINNA THE POET	I dreamt to-night that I did feast with Caesar,
+	And things unlucky charge my fantasy:
+	I have no will to wander forth of doors,
+	Yet something leads me forth.
+
+	[Enter Citizens]
+
+First Citizen	What is your name?
+
+Second Citizen	Whither are you going?
+
+Third Citizen	Where do you dwell?
+
+Fourth Citizen	Are you a married man or a bachelor?
+
+Second Citizen	Answer every man directly.
+
+First Citizen	Ay, and briefly.
+
+Fourth Citizen	Ay, and wisely.
+
+Third Citizen	Ay, and truly, you were best.
+
+CINNA THE POET	What is my name? Whither am I going? Where do I
+	dwell? Am I a married man or a bachelor? Then, to
+	answer every man directly and briefly, wisely and
+	truly: wisely I say, I am a bachelor.
+
+Second Citizen	That's as much as to say, they are fools that marry:
+	you'll bear me a bang for that, I fear. Proceed; directly.
+
+CINNA THE POET	Directly, I am going to Caesar's funeral.
+
+First Citizen	As a friend or an enemy?
+
+CINNA THE POET	As a friend.
+
+Second Citizen	That matter is answered directly.
+
+Fourth Citizen	For your dwelling,--briefly.
+
+CINNA THE POET	Briefly, I dwell by the Capitol.
+
+Third Citizen	Your name, sir, truly.
+
+CINNA THE POET	Truly, my name is Cinna.
+
+First Citizen	Tear him to pieces; he's a conspirator.
+
+CINNA THE POET	I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet.
+
+Fourth Citizen	Tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses.
+
+CINNA THE POET	I am not Cinna the conspirator.
+
+Fourth Citizen	It is no matter, his name's Cinna; pluck but his
+	name out of his heart, and turn him going.
+
+Third Citizen	Tear him, tear him! Come, brands ho! fire-brands:
+	to Brutus', to Cassius'; burn all: some to Decius'
+	house, and some to Casca's; some to Ligarius': away, go!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A house in Rome.
+
+
+	[ANTONY, OCTAVIUS, and LEPIDUS, seated at a table]
+
+ANTONY	These many, then, shall die; their names are prick'd.
+
+OCTAVIUS	Your brother too must die; consent you, Lepidus?
+
+LEPIDUS	I do consent--
+
+OCTAVIUS	                  Prick him down, Antony.
+
+LEPIDUS	Upon condition Publius shall not live,
+	Who is your sister's son, Mark Antony.
+
+ANTONY	He shall not live; look, with a spot I damn him.
+	But, Lepidus, go you to Caesar's house;
+	Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine
+	How to cut off some charge in legacies.
+
+LEPIDUS	What, shall I find you here?
+
+OCTAVIUS	Or here, or at the Capitol.
+
+	[Exit LEPIDUS]
+
+ANTONY	This is a slight unmeritable man,
+	Meet to be sent on errands: is it fit,
+	The three-fold world divided, he should stand
+	One of the three to share it?
+
+OCTAVIUS	So you thought him;
+	And took his voice who should be prick'd to die,
+	In our black sentence and proscription.
+
+ANTONY	Octavius, I have seen more days than you:
+	And though we lay these honours on this man,
+	To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads,
+	He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold,
+	To groan and sweat under the business,
+	Either led or driven, as we point the way;
+	And having brought our treasure where we will,
+	Then take we down his load, and turn him off,
+	Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears,
+	And graze in commons.
+
+OCTAVIUS	You may do your will;
+	But he's a tried and valiant soldier.
+
+ANTONY	So is my horse, Octavius; and for that
+	I do appoint him store of provender:
+	It is a creature that I teach to fight,
+	To wind, to stop, to run directly on,
+	His corporal motion govern'd by my spirit.
+	And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so;
+	He must be taught and train'd and bid go forth;
+	A barren-spirited fellow; one that feeds
+	On abjects, orts and imitations,
+	Which, out of use and staled by other men,
+	Begin his fashion: do not talk of him,
+	But as a property. And now, Octavius,
+	Listen great things:--Brutus and Cassius
+	Are levying powers: we must straight make head:
+	Therefore let our alliance be combined,
+	Our best friends made, our means stretch'd
+	And let us presently go sit in council,
+	How covert matters may be best disclosed,
+	And open perils surest answered.
+
+OCTAVIUS	Let us do so: for we are at the stake,
+	And bay'd about with many enemies;
+	And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear,
+	Millions of mischiefs.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Camp near Sardis. Before BRUTUS's tent.
+
+
+	[Drum. Enter BRUTUS, LUCILIUS, LUCIUS, and
+	Soldiers; TITINIUS and PINDARUS meeting them]
+
+BRUTUS	Stand, ho!
+
+LUCILIUS	Give the word, ho! and stand.
+
+BRUTUS	What now, Lucilius! is Cassius near?
+
+LUCILIUS	He is at hand; and Pindarus is come
+	To do you salutation from his master.
+
+BRUTUS	He greets me well. Your master, Pindarus,
+	In his own change, or by ill officers,
+	Hath given me some worthy cause to wish
+	Things done, undone: but, if he be at hand,
+	I shall be satisfied.
+
+PINDARUS	I do not doubt
+	But that my noble master will appear
+	Such as he is, full of regard and honour.
+
+BRUTUS	He is not doubted. A word, Lucilius;
+	How he received you, let me be resolved.
+
+LUCILIUS	With courtesy and with respect enough;
+	But not with such familiar instances,
+	Nor with such free and friendly conference,
+	As he hath used of old.
+
+BRUTUS	Thou hast described
+	A hot friend cooling: ever note, Lucilius,
+	When love begins to sicken and decay,
+	It useth an enforced ceremony.
+	There are no tricks in plain and simple faith;
+	But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,
+	Make gallant show and promise of their mettle;
+	But when they should endure the bloody spur,
+	They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades,
+	Sink in the trial. Comes his army on?
+
+LUCILIUS	They mean this night in Sardis to be quarter'd;
+	The greater part, the horse in general,
+	Are come with Cassius.
+
+BRUTUS	Hark! he is arrived.
+
+	[Low march within]
+
+	March gently on to meet him.
+
+	[Enter CASSIUS and his powers]
+
+CASSIUS	Stand, ho!
+
+BRUTUS	Stand, ho! Speak the word along.
+
+First Soldier	Stand!
+
+Second Soldier	Stand!
+
+Third Soldier	Stand!
+
+CASSIUS	Most noble brother, you have done me wrong.
+
+BRUTUS	Judge me, you gods! wrong I mine enemies?
+	And, if not so, how should I wrong a brother?
+
+CASSIUS	Brutus, this sober form of yours hides wrongs;
+	And when you do them--
+
+BRUTUS	Cassius, be content.
+	Speak your griefs softly: I do know you well.
+	Before the eyes of both our armies here,
+	Which should perceive nothing but love from us,
+	Let us not wrangle: bid them move away;
+	Then in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs,
+	And I will give you audience.
+
+CASSIUS	Pindarus,
+	Bid our commanders lead their charges off
+	A little from this ground.
+
+BRUTUS	Lucilius, do you the like; and let no man
+	Come to our tent till we have done our conference.
+	Let Lucius and Titinius guard our door.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Brutus's tent.
+
+
+	[Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS]
+
+CASSIUS	That you have wrong'd me doth appear in this:
+	You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella
+	For taking bribes here of the Sardians;
+	Wherein my letters, praying on his side,
+	Because I knew the man, were slighted off.
+
+BRUTUS	You wronged yourself to write in such a case.
+
+CASSIUS	In such a time as this it is not meet
+	That every nice offence should bear his comment.
+
+BRUTUS	Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
+	Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm;
+	To sell and mart your offices for gold
+	To undeservers.
+
+CASSIUS	                  I an itching palm!
+	You know that you are Brutus that speak this,
+	Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.
+
+BRUTUS	The name of Cassius honours this corruption,
+	And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.
+
+CASSIUS	Chastisement!
+
+BRUTUS	Remember March, the ides of March remember:
+	Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake?
+	What villain touch'd his body, that did stab,
+	And not for justice? What, shall one of us
+	That struck the foremost man of all this world
+	But for supporting robbers, shall we now
+	Contaminate our fingers with base bribes,
+	And sell the mighty space of our large honours
+	For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
+	I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
+	Than such a Roman.
+
+CASSIUS	                  Brutus, bay not me;
+	I'll not endure it: you forget yourself,
+	To hedge me in; I am a soldier, I,
+	Older in practise, abler than yourself
+	To make conditions.
+
+BRUTUS	Go to; you are not, Cassius.
+
+CASSIUS	I am.
+
+BRUTUS	I say you are not.
+
+CASSIUS	Urge me no more, I shall forget myself;
+	Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further.
+
+BRUTUS	Away, slight man!
+
+CASSIUS	Is't possible?
+
+BRUTUS	                  Hear me, for I will speak.
+	Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
+	Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?
+
+CASSIUS	O ye gods, ye gods! must I endure all this?
+
+BRUTUS	All this! ay, more: fret till your proud heart break;
+	Go show your slaves how choleric you are,
+	And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge?
+	Must I observe you? must I stand and crouch
+	Under your testy humour? By the gods
+	You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
+	Though it do split you; for, from this day forth,
+	I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
+	When you are waspish.
+
+CASSIUS	Is it come to this?
+
+BRUTUS	You say you are a better soldier:
+	Let it appear so; make your vaunting true,
+	And it shall please me well: for mine own part,
+	I shall be glad to learn of noble men.
+
+CASSIUS	You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus;
+	I said, an elder soldier, not a better:
+	Did I say 'better'?
+
+BRUTUS	If you did, I care not.
+
+CASSIUS	When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.
+
+BRUTUS	Peace, peace! you durst not so have tempted him.
+
+CASSIUS	I durst not!
+
+BRUTUS	No.
+
+CASSIUS	What, durst not tempt him!
+
+BRUTUS	For your life you durst not!
+
+CASSIUS	Do not presume too much upon my love;
+	I may do that I shall be sorry for.
+
+BRUTUS	You have done that you should be sorry for.
+	There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats,
+	For I am arm'd so strong in honesty
+	That they pass by me as the idle wind,
+	Which I respect not. I did send to you
+	For certain sums of gold, which you denied me:
+	For I can raise no money by vile means:
+	By heaven, I had rather coin my heart,
+	And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring
+	From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash
+	By any indirection: I did send
+	To you for gold to pay my legions,
+	Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius?
+	Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so?
+	When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,
+	To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
+	Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts;
+	Dash him to pieces!
+
+CASSIUS	I denied you not.
+
+BRUTUS	You did.
+
+CASSIUS	I did not: he was but a fool that brought
+	My answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart:
+	A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,
+	But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
+
+BRUTUS	I do not, till you practise them on me.
+
+CASSIUS	You love me not.
+
+BRUTUS	                  I do not like your faults.
+
+CASSIUS	A friendly eye could never see such faults.
+
+BRUTUS	A flatterer's would not, though they do appear
+	As huge as high Olympus.
+
+CASSIUS	Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,
+	Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,
+	For Cassius is aweary of the world;
+	Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;
+	Cheque'd like a bondman; all his faults observed,
+	Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,
+	To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep
+	My spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger,
+	And here my naked breast; within, a heart
+	Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold:
+	If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth;
+	I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart:
+	Strike, as thou didst at Caesar; for, I know,
+	When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better
+	Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.
+
+BRUTUS	Sheathe your dagger:
+	Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
+	Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.
+	O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb
+	That carries anger as the flint bears fire;
+	Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
+	And straight is cold again.
+
+CASSIUS	Hath Cassius lived
+	To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
+	When grief, and blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him?
+
+BRUTUS	When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
+
+CASSIUS	Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.
+
+BRUTUS	And my heart too.
+
+CASSIUS	                  O Brutus!
+
+BRUTUS	What's the matter?
+
+CASSIUS	Have not you love enough to bear with me,
+	When that rash humour which my mother gave me
+	Makes me forgetful?
+
+BRUTUS	Yes, Cassius; and, from henceforth,
+	When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,
+	He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so.
+
+Poet	[Within]  Let me go in to see the generals;
+	There is some grudge between 'em, 'tis not meet
+	They be alone.
+
+LUCILIUS	[Within]  You shall not come to them.
+
+Poet	[Within]  Nothing but death shall stay me.
+
+	[Enter Poet, followed by LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, and LUCIUS]
+
+CASSIUS	How now! what's the matter?
+
+Poet	For shame, you generals! what do you mean?
+	Love, and be friends, as two such men should be;
+	For I have seen more years, I'm sure, than ye.
+
+CASSIUS	Ha, ha! how vilely doth this cynic rhyme!
+
+BRUTUS	Get you hence, sirrah; saucy fellow, hence!
+
+CASSIUS	Bear with him, Brutus; 'tis his fashion.
+
+BRUTUS	I'll know his humour, when he knows his time:
+	What should the wars do with these jigging fools?
+	Companion, hence!
+
+CASSIUS	                  Away, away, be gone.
+
+	[Exit Poet]
+
+BRUTUS	Lucilius and Titinius, bid the commanders
+	Prepare to lodge their companies to-night.
+
+CASSIUS	And come yourselves, and bring Messala with you
+	Immediately to us.
+
+	[Exeunt LUCILIUS and TITINIUS]
+
+BRUTUS	Lucius, a bowl of wine!
+
+	[Exit LUCIUS]
+
+CASSIUS	I did not think you could have been so angry.
+
+BRUTUS	O Cassius, I am sick of many griefs.
+
+CASSIUS	Of your philosophy you make no use,
+	If you give place to accidental evils.
+
+BRUTUS	No man bears sorrow better. Portia is dead.
+
+CASSIUS	Ha! Portia!
+
+BRUTUS	She is dead.
+
+CASSIUS	How 'scaped I killing when I cross'd you so?
+	O insupportable and touching loss!
+	Upon what sickness?
+
+BRUTUS	Impatient of my absence,
+	And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony
+	Have made themselves so strong:--for with her death
+	That tidings came;--with this she fell distract,
+	And, her attendants absent, swallow'd fire.
+
+CASSIUS	And died so?
+
+BRUTUS	                  Even so.
+
+CASSIUS	O ye immortal gods!
+
+	[Re-enter LUCIUS, with wine and taper]
+
+BRUTUS	Speak no more of her. Give me a bowl of wine.
+	In this I bury all unkindness, Cassius.
+
+CASSIUS	My heart is thirsty for that noble pledge.
+	Fill, Lucius, till the wine o'erswell the cup;
+	I cannot drink too much of Brutus' love.
+
+BRUTUS	Come in, Titinius!
+
+	[Exit LUCIUS]
+
+	[Re-enter TITINIUS, with MESSALA]
+
+	Welcome, good Messala.
+	Now sit we close about this taper here,
+	And call in question our necessities.
+
+CASSIUS	Portia, art thou gone?
+
+BRUTUS	No more, I pray you.
+	Messala, I have here received letters,
+	That young Octavius and Mark Antony
+	Come down upon us with a mighty power,
+	Bending their expedition toward Philippi.
+
+MESSALA	Myself have letters of the selfsame tenor.
+
+BRUTUS	With what addition?
+
+MESSALA	That by proscription and bills of outlawry,
+	Octavius, Antony, and Lepidus,
+	Have put to death an hundred senators.
+
+BRUTUS	Therein our letters do not well agree;
+	Mine speak of seventy senators that died
+	By their proscriptions, Cicero being one.
+
+CASSIUS	Cicero one!
+
+MESSALA	          Cicero is dead,
+	And by that order of proscription.
+	Had you your letters from your wife, my lord?
+
+BRUTUS	No, Messala.
+
+MESSALA	Nor nothing in your letters writ of her?
+
+BRUTUS	Nothing, Messala.
+
+MESSALA	                  That, methinks, is strange.
+
+BRUTUS	Why ask you? hear you aught of her in yours?
+
+MESSALA	No, my lord.
+
+BRUTUS	Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true.
+
+MESSALA	Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell:
+	For certain she is dead, and by strange manner.
+
+BRUTUS	Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala:
+	With meditating that she must die once,
+	I have the patience to endure it now.
+
+MESSALA	Even so great men great losses should endure.
+
+CASSIUS	I have as much of this in art as you,
+	But yet my nature could not bear it so.
+
+BRUTUS	Well, to our work alive. What do you think
+	Of marching to Philippi presently?
+
+CASSIUS	I do not think it good.
+
+BRUTUS	Your reason?
+
+CASSIUS	This it is:
+	'Tis better that the enemy seek us:
+	So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,
+	Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still,
+	Are full of rest, defense, and nimbleness.
+
+BRUTUS	Good reasons must, of force, give place to better.
+	The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground
+	Do stand but in a forced affection;
+	For they have grudged us contribution:
+	The enemy, marching along by them,
+	By them shall make a fuller number up,
+	Come on refresh'd, new-added, and encouraged;
+	From which advantage shall we cut him off,
+	If at Philippi we do face him there,
+	These people at our back.
+
+CASSIUS	Hear me, good brother.
+
+BRUTUS	Under your pardon. You must note beside,
+	That we have tried the utmost of our friends,
+	Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe:
+	The enemy increaseth every day;
+	We, at the height, are ready to decline.
+	There is a tide in the affairs of men,
+	Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
+	Omitted, all the voyage of their life
+	Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
+	On such a full sea are we now afloat;
+	And we must take the current when it serves,
+	Or lose our ventures.
+
+CASSIUS	Then, with your will, go on;
+	We'll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.
+
+BRUTUS	The deep of night is crept upon our talk,
+	And nature must obey necessity;
+	Which we will niggard with a little rest.
+	There is no more to say?
+
+CASSIUS	No more. Good night:
+	Early to-morrow will we rise, and hence.
+
+BRUTUS	Lucius!
+
+	[Enter LUCIUS]
+	My gown.
+
+	[Exit LUCIUS]
+
+	Farewell, good Messala:
+	Good night, Titinius. Noble, noble Cassius,
+	Good night, and good repose.
+
+CASSIUS	O my dear brother!
+	This was an ill beginning of the night:
+	Never come such division 'tween our souls!
+	Let it not, Brutus.
+
+BRUTUS	Every thing is well.
+
+CASSIUS	Good night, my lord.
+
+BRUTUS	Good night, good brother.
+
+
+TITINIUS	|
+	| Good night, Lord Brutus.
+MESSALA	|
+
+
+BRUTUS	Farewell, every one.
+
+	[Exeunt all but BRUTUS]
+
+	[Re-enter LUCIUS, with the gown]
+
+	Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?
+
+LUCIUS	Here in the tent.
+
+BRUTUS	                  What, thou speak'st drowsily?
+	Poor knave, I blame thee not; thou art o'er-watch'd.
+	Call Claudius and some other of my men:
+	I'll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.
+
+LUCIUS	Varro and Claudius!
+
+	[Enter VARRO and CLAUDIUS]
+
+VARRO	Calls my lord?
+
+BRUTUS	I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep;
+	It may be I shall raise you by and by
+	On business to my brother Cassius.
+
+VARRO	So please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure.
+
+BRUTUS	I will not have it so: lie down, good sirs;
+	It may be I shall otherwise bethink me.
+	Look, Lucius, here's the book I sought for so;
+	I put it in the pocket of my gown.
+
+	[VARRO and CLAUDIUS lie down]
+
+LUCIUS	I was sure your lordship did not give it me.
+
+BRUTUS	Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.
+	Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,
+	And touch thy instrument a strain or two?
+
+LUCIUS	Ay, my lord, an't please you.
+
+BRUTUS	It does, my boy:
+	I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.
+
+LUCIUS	It is my duty, sir.
+
+BRUTUS	I should not urge thy duty past thy might;
+	I know young bloods look for a time of rest.
+
+LUCIUS	I have slept, my lord, already.
+
+BRUTUS	It was well done; and thou shalt sleep again;
+	I will not hold thee long: if I do live,
+	I will be good to thee.
+
+	[Music, and a song]
+
+	This is a sleepy tune. O murderous slumber,
+	Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy,
+	That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good night;
+	I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee:
+	If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument;
+	I'll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night.
+	Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turn'd down
+	Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.
+
+	[Enter the Ghost of CAESAR]
+
+	How ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here?
+	I think it is the weakness of mine eyes
+	That shapes this monstrous apparition.
+	It comes upon me. Art thou any thing?
+	Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,
+	That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare?
+	Speak to me what thou art.
+
+GHOST	Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
+
+BRUTUS	Why comest thou?
+
+GHOST	To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.
+
+BRUTUS	Well; then I shall see thee again?
+
+GHOST	Ay, at Philippi.
+
+BRUTUS	Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then.
+
+	[Exit Ghost]
+
+	Now I have taken heart thou vanishest:
+	Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.
+	Boy, Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake! Claudius!
+
+LUCIUS	The strings, my lord, are false.
+
+BRUTUS	He thinks he still is at his instrument.
+	Lucius, awake!
+
+LUCIUS	My lord?
+
+BRUTUS	Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out?
+
+LUCIUS	My lord, I do not know that I did cry.
+
+BRUTUS	Yes, that thou didst: didst thou see any thing?
+
+LUCIUS	Nothing, my lord.
+
+BRUTUS	Sleep again, Lucius. Sirrah Claudius!
+
+	[To VARRO]
+
+	Fellow thou, awake!
+
+VARRO	My lord?
+
+CLAUDIUS	My lord?
+
+BRUTUS	Why did you so cry out, sirs, in your sleep?
+
+
+VARRO	|
+	|  Did we, my lord?
+CLAUDIUS	|
+
+
+BRUTUS	Ay: saw you any thing?
+
+VARRO	No, my lord, I saw nothing.
+
+CLAUDIUS	Nor I, my lord.
+
+BRUTUS	Go and commend me to my brother Cassius;
+	Bid him set on his powers betimes before,
+	And we will follow.
+
+
+VARRO	|
+	|                It shall be done, my lord.
+CLAUDIUS	|
+
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The plains of Philippi.
+
+
+	[Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, and their army]
+
+OCTAVIUS	Now, Antony, our hopes are answered:
+	You said the enemy would not come down,
+	But keep the hills and upper regions;
+	It proves not so: their battles are at hand;
+	They mean to warn us at Philippi here,
+	Answering before we do demand of them.
+
+ANTONY	Tut, I am in their bosoms, and I know
+	Wherefore they do it: they could be content
+	To visit other places; and come down
+	With fearful bravery, thinking by this face
+	To fasten in our thoughts that they have courage;
+	But 'tis not so.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	                  Prepare you, generals:
+	The enemy comes on in gallant show;
+	Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,
+	And something to be done immediately.
+
+ANTONY	Octavius, lead your battle softly on,
+	Upon the left hand of the even field.
+
+OCTAVIUS	Upon the right hand I; keep thou the left.
+
+ANTONY	Why do you cross me in this exigent?
+
+OCTAVIUS	I do not cross you; but I will do so.
+
+	[March]
+
+	[Drum. Enter BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and their Army;
+	LUCILIUS, TITINIUS, MESSALA, and others]
+
+BRUTUS	They stand, and would have parley.
+
+CASSIUS	Stand fast, Titinius: we must out and talk.
+
+OCTAVIUS	Mark Antony, shall we give sign of battle?
+
+ANTONY	No, Caesar, we will answer on their charge.
+	Make forth; the generals would have some words.
+
+OCTAVIUS	Stir not until the signal.
+
+BRUTUS	Words before blows: is it so, countrymen?
+
+OCTAVIUS	Not that we love words better, as you do.
+
+BRUTUS	Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.
+
+ANTONY	In your bad strokes, Brutus, you give good words:
+	Witness the hole you made in Caesar's heart,
+	Crying 'Long live! hail, Caesar!'
+
+CASSIUS	Antony,
+	The posture of your blows are yet unknown;
+	But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees,
+	And leave them honeyless.
+
+ANTONY	Not stingless too.
+
+BRUTUS	O, yes, and soundless too;
+	For you have stol'n their buzzing, Antony,
+	And very wisely threat before you sting.
+
+ANTONY	Villains, you did not so, when your vile daggers
+	Hack'd one another in the sides of Caesar:
+	You show'd your teeth like apes, and fawn'd like hounds,
+	And bow'd like bondmen, kissing Caesar's feet;
+	Whilst damned Casca, like a cur, behind
+	Struck Caesar on the neck. O you flatterers!
+
+CASSIUS	Flatterers! Now, Brutus, thank yourself:
+	This tongue had not offended so to-day,
+	If Cassius might have ruled.
+
+OCTAVIUS	Come, come, the cause: if arguing make us sweat,
+	The proof of it will turn to redder drops. Look;
+	I draw a sword against conspirators;
+	When think you that the sword goes up again?
+	Never, till Caesar's three and thirty wounds
+	Be well avenged; or till another Caesar
+	Have added slaughter to the sword of traitors.
+
+BRUTUS	Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors' hands,
+	Unless thou bring'st them with thee.
+
+OCTAVIUS	So I hope;
+	I was not born to die on Brutus' sword.
+
+BRUTUS	O, if thou wert the noblest of thy strain,
+	Young man, thou couldst not die more honourable.
+
+CASSIUS	A peevish schoolboy, worthless of such honour,
+	Join'd with a masker and a reveller!
+
+ANTONY	Old Cassius still!
+
+OCTAVIUS	                  Come, Antony, away!
+	Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth:
+	If you dare fight to-day, come to the field;
+	If not, when you have stomachs.
+
+	[Exeunt OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, and their army]
+
+CASSIUS	Why, now, blow wind, swell billow and swim bark!
+	The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.
+
+BRUTUS	Ho, Lucilius! hark, a word with you.
+
+LUCILIUS	[Standing forth]	My lord?
+
+	[BRUTUS and LUCILIUS converse apart]
+
+CASSIUS	Messala!
+
+MESSALA	[Standing forth]  What says my general?
+
+CASSIUS	Messala,
+	This is my birth-day; as this very day
+	Was Cassius born. Give me thy hand, Messala:
+	Be thou my witness that against my will,
+	As Pompey was, am I compell'd to set
+	Upon one battle all our liberties.
+	You know that I held Epicurus strong
+	And his opinion: now I change my mind,
+	And partly credit things that do presage.
+	Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign
+	Two mighty eagles fell, and there they perch'd,
+	Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands;
+	Who to Philippi here consorted us:
+	This morning are they fled away and gone;
+	And in their steads do ravens, crows and kites,
+	Fly o'er our heads and downward look on us,
+	As we were sickly prey: their shadows seem
+	A canopy most fatal, under which
+	Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost.
+
+MESSALA	Believe not so.
+
+CASSIUS	                  I but believe it partly;
+	For I am fresh of spirit and resolved
+	To meet all perils very constantly.
+
+BRUTUS	Even so, Lucilius.
+
+CASSIUS	                  Now, most noble Brutus,
+	The gods to-day stand friendly, that we may,
+	Lovers in peace, lead on our days to age!
+	But since the affairs of men rest still incertain,
+	Let's reason with the worst that may befall.
+	If we do lose this battle, then is this
+	The very last time we shall speak together:
+	What are you then determined to do?
+
+BRUTUS	Even by the rule of that philosophy
+	By which I did blame Cato for the death
+	Which he did give himself, I know not how,
+	But I do find it cowardly and vile,
+	For fear of what might fall, so to prevent
+	The time of life: arming myself with patience
+	To stay the providence of some high powers
+	That govern us below.
+
+CASSIUS	Then, if we lose this battle,
+	You are contented to be led in triumph
+	Thorough the streets of Rome?
+
+BRUTUS	No, Cassius, no: think not, thou noble Roman,
+	That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome;
+	He bears too great a mind. But this same day
+	Must end that work the ides of March begun;
+	And whether we shall meet again I know not.
+	Therefore our everlasting farewell take:
+	For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius!
+	If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;
+	If not, why then, this parting was well made.
+
+CASSIUS	For ever, and for ever, farewell, Brutus!
+	If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed;
+	If not, 'tis true this parting was well made.
+
+BRUTUS	Why, then, lead on. O, that a man might know
+	The end of this day's business ere it come!
+	But it sufficeth that the day will end,
+	And then the end is known. Come, ho! away!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. The field of battle.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Enter BRUTUS and MESSALA]
+
+BRUTUS	Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills
+	Unto the legions on the other side.
+
+	[Loud alarum]
+
+	Let them set on at once; for I perceive
+	But cold demeanor in Octavius' wing,
+	And sudden push gives them the overthrow.
+	Ride, ride, Messala: let them all come down.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Alarums. Enter CASSIUS and TITINIUS]
+
+CASSIUS	O, look, Titinius, look, the villains fly!
+	Myself have to mine own turn'd enemy:
+	This ensign here of mine was turning back;
+	I slew the coward, and did take it from him.
+
+TITINIUS	O Cassius, Brutus gave the word too early;
+	Who, having some advantage on Octavius,
+	Took it too eagerly: his soldiers fell to spoil,
+	Whilst we by Antony are all enclosed.
+
+	[Enter PINDARUS]
+
+PINDARUS	Fly further off, my lord, fly further off;
+	Mark Antony is in your tents, my lord
+	Fly, therefore, noble Cassius, fly far off.
+
+CASSIUS	This hill is far enough. Look, look, Titinius;
+	Are those my tents where I perceive the fire?
+
+TITINIUS	They are, my lord.
+
+CASSIUS	                  Titinius, if thou lovest me,
+	Mount thou my horse, and hide thy spurs in him,
+	Till he have brought thee up to yonder troops,
+	And here again; that I may rest assured
+	Whether yond troops are friend or enemy.
+
+TITINIUS	I will be here again, even with a thought.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CASSIUS	Go, Pindarus, get higher on that hill;
+	My sight was ever thick; regard Titinius,
+	And tell me what thou notest about the field.
+
+	[PINDARUS ascends the hill]
+
+	This day I breathed first: time is come round,
+	And where I did begin, there shall I end;
+	My life is run his compass. Sirrah, what news?
+
+PINDARUS	[Above]  O my lord!
+
+CASSIUS	What news?
+
+PINDARUS	[Above]  Titinius is enclosed round about
+	With horsemen, that make to him on the spur;
+	Yet he spurs on. Now they are almost on him.
+	Now, Titinius! Now some light. O, he lights too.
+	He's ta'en.
+
+	[Shout]
+
+	And, hark! they shout for joy.
+
+CASSIUS	Come down, behold no more.
+	O, coward that I am, to live so long,
+	To see my best friend ta'en before my face!
+
+	[PINDARUS descends]
+
+	Come hither, sirrah:
+	In Parthia did I take thee prisoner;
+	And then I swore thee, saving of thy life,
+	That whatsoever I did bid thee do,
+	Thou shouldst attempt it. Come now, keep thine oath;
+	Now be a freeman: and with this good sword,
+	That ran through Caesar's bowels, search this bosom.
+	Stand not to answer: here, take thou the hilts;
+	And, when my face is cover'd, as 'tis now,
+	Guide thou the sword.
+
+	[PINDARUS stabs him]
+
+		Caesar, thou art revenged,
+	Even with the sword that kill'd thee.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+PINDARUS	So, I am free; yet would not so have been,
+	Durst I have done my will. O Cassius,
+	Far from this country Pindarus shall run,
+	Where never Roman shall take note of him.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter TITINIUS with MESSALA]
+
+MESSALA	It is but change, Titinius; for Octavius
+	Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power,
+	As Cassius' legions are by Antony.
+
+TITINIUS	These tidings will well comfort Cassius.
+
+MESSALA	Where did you leave him?
+
+TITINIUS	All disconsolate,
+	With Pindarus his bondman, on this hill.
+
+MESSALA	Is not that he that lies upon the ground?
+
+TITINIUS	He lies not like the living. O my heart!
+
+MESSALA	Is not that he?
+
+TITINIUS	                  No, this was he, Messala,
+	But Cassius is no more. O setting sun,
+	As in thy red rays thou dost sink to-night,
+	So in his red blood Cassius' day is set;
+	The sun of Rome is set! Our day is gone;
+	Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are done!
+	Mistrust of my success hath done this deed.
+
+MESSALA	Mistrust of good success hath done this deed.
+	O hateful error, melancholy's child,
+	Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men
+	The things that are not? O error, soon conceived,
+	Thou never comest unto a happy birth,
+	But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee!
+
+TITINIUS	What, Pindarus! where art thou, Pindarus?
+
+MESSALA	Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet
+	The noble Brutus, thrusting this report
+	Into his ears; I may say, thrusting it;
+	For piercing steel and darts envenomed
+	Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus
+	As tidings of this sight.
+
+TITINIUS	Hie you, Messala,
+	And I will seek for Pindarus the while.
+
+	[Exit MESSALA]
+
+	Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius?
+	Did I not meet thy friends? and did not they
+	Put on my brows this wreath of victory,
+	And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their shouts?
+	Alas, thou hast misconstrued every thing!
+	But, hold thee, take this garland on thy brow;
+	Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I
+	Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace,
+	And see how I regarded Caius Cassius.
+	By your leave, gods:--this is a Roman's part
+	Come, Cassius' sword, and find Titinius' heart.
+
+	[Kills himself]
+
+	[Alarum. Re-enter MESSALA, with BRUTUS, CATO,
+	STRATO, VOLUMNIUS, and LUCILIUS]
+
+BRUTUS	Where, where, Messala, doth his body lie?
+
+MESSALA	Lo, yonder, and Titinius mourning it.
+
+BRUTUS	Titinius' face is upward.
+
+CATO	He is slain.
+
+BRUTUS	O Julius Caesar, thou art mighty yet!
+	Thy spirit walks abroad and turns our swords
+	In our own proper entrails.
+
+	[Low alarums]
+
+CATO	Brave Titinius!
+	Look, whether he have not crown'd dead Cassius!
+
+BRUTUS	Are yet two Romans living such as these?
+	The last of all the Romans, fare thee well!
+	It is impossible that ever Rome
+	Should breed thy fellow. Friends, I owe more tears
+	To this dead man than you shall see me pay.
+	I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time.
+	Come, therefore, and to Thasos send his body:
+	His funerals shall not be in our camp,
+	Lest it discomfort us. Lucilius, come;
+	And come, young Cato; let us to the field.
+	Labeo and Flavius, set our battles on:
+	'Tis three o'clock; and, Romans, yet ere night
+	We shall try fortune in a second fight.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Alarum. Enter fighting, Soldiers of both armies;
+	then BRUTUS, CATO, LUCILIUS, and others]
+
+BRUTUS	Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads!
+
+CATO	What bastard doth not? Who will go with me?
+	I will proclaim my name about the field:
+	I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
+	A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend;
+	I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
+
+BRUTUS	And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I;
+	Brutus, my country's friend; know me for Brutus!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LUCILIUS	O young and noble Cato, art thou down?
+	Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius;
+	And mayst be honour'd, being Cato's son.
+
+First Soldier	Yield, or thou diest.
+
+LUCILIUS	Only I yield to die:
+	There is so much that thou wilt kill me straight;
+
+	[Offering money]
+
+	Kill Brutus, and be honour'd in his death.
+
+First Soldier	We must not. A noble prisoner!
+
+Second Soldier	Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus is ta'en.
+
+First Soldier	I'll tell the news. Here comes the general.
+
+	[Enter ANTONY]
+
+	Brutus is ta'en, Brutus is ta'en, my lord.
+
+ANTONY	Where is he?
+
+LUCILIUS	Safe, Antony; Brutus is safe enough:
+	I dare assure thee that no enemy
+	Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus:
+	The gods defend him from so great a shame!
+	When you do find him, or alive or dead,
+	He will be found like Brutus, like himself.
+
+ANTONY	This is not Brutus, friend; but, I assure you,
+	A prize no less in worth: keep this man safe;
+	Give him all kindness: I had rather have
+	Such men my friends than enemies. Go on,
+	And see whether Brutus be alive or dead;
+	And bring us word unto Octavius' tent
+	How every thing is chanced.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	JULIUS CAESAR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, STRATO, and
+	VOLUMNIUS]
+
+BRUTUS	Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.
+
+CLITUS	Statilius show'd the torch-light, but, my lord,
+	He came not back: he is or ta'en or slain.
+
+BRUTUS	Sit thee down, Clitus: slaying is the word;
+	It is a deed in fashion. Hark thee, Clitus.
+
+	[Whispers]
+
+CLITUS	What, I, my lord? No, not for all the world.
+
+BRUTUS	Peace then! no words.
+
+CLITUS	I'll rather kill myself.
+
+BRUTUS	Hark thee, Dardanius.
+
+	[Whispers]
+
+DARDANIUS	Shall I do such a deed?
+
+CLITUS	O Dardanius!
+
+DARDANIUS	O Clitus!
+
+CLITUS	What ill request did Brutus make to thee?
+
+DARDANIUS	To kill him, Clitus. Look, he meditates.
+
+CLITUS	Now is that noble vessel full of grief,
+	That it runs over even at his eyes.
+
+BRUTUS	Come hither, good Volumnius; list a word.
+
+VOLUMNIUS	What says my lord?
+
+BRUTUS	                  Why, this, Volumnius:
+	The ghost of Caesar hath appear'd to me
+	Two several times by night; at Sardis once,
+	And, this last night, here in Philippi fields:
+	I know my hour is come.
+
+VOLUMNIUS	Not so, my lord.
+
+BRUTUS	Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius.
+	Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes;
+	Our enemies have beat us to the pit:
+
+	[Low alarums]
+
+	It is more worthy to leap in ourselves,
+	Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius,
+	Thou know'st that we two went to school together:
+	Even for that our love of old, I prithee,
+	Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it.
+
+VOLUMNIUS	That's not an office for a friend, my lord.
+
+	[Alarum still]
+
+CLITUS	Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.
+
+BRUTUS	Farewell to you; and you; and you, Volumnius.
+	Strato, thou hast been all this while asleep;
+	Farewell to thee too, Strato. Countrymen,
+	My heart doth joy that yet in all my life
+	I found no man but he was true to me.
+	I shall have glory by this losing day
+	More than Octavius and Mark Antony
+	By this vile conquest shall attain unto.
+	So fare you well at once; for Brutus' tongue
+	Hath almost ended his life's history:
+	Night hangs upon mine eyes; my bones would rest,
+	That have but labour'd to attain this hour.
+
+	[Alarum. Cry within, 'Fly, fly, fly!']
+
+CLITUS	Fly, my lord, fly.
+
+BRUTUS	                  Hence! I will follow.
+
+	[Exeunt CLITUS, DARDANIUS, and VOLUMNIUS]
+
+	I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord:
+	Thou art a fellow of a good respect;
+	Thy life hath had some smatch of honour in it:
+	Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face,
+	While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato?
+
+STRATO	Give me your hand first. Fare you well, my lord.
+
+BRUTUS	Farewell, good Strato.
+
+	[Runs on his sword]
+
+		 Caesar, now be still:
+	I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+	[Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, MESSALA,
+	LUCILIUS, and the army]
+
+OCTAVIUS	What man is that?
+
+MESSALA	My master's man. Strato, where is thy master?
+
+STRATO	Free from the bondage you are in, Messala:
+	The conquerors can but make a fire of him;
+	For Brutus only overcame himself,
+	And no man else hath honour by his death.
+
+LUCILIUS	So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus,
+	That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true.
+
+OCTAVIUS	All that served Brutus, I will entertain them.
+	Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?
+
+STRATO	Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you.
+
+OCTAVIUS	Do so, good Messala.
+
+MESSALA	How died my master, Strato?
+
+STRATO	I held the sword, and he did run on it.
+
+MESSALA	Octavius, then take him to follow thee,
+	That did the latest service to my master.
+
+ANTONY	This was the noblest Roman of them all:
+	All the conspirators save only he
+	Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;
+	He only, in a general honest thought
+	And common good to all, made one of them.
+	His life was gentle, and the elements
+	So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up
+	And say to all the world 'This was a man!'
+
+OCTAVIUS	According to his virtue let us use him,
+	With all respect and rites of burial.
+	Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie,
+	Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.
+	So call the field to rest; and let's away,
+	To part the glories of this happy day.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+LEAR	king of Britain  (KING LEAR:)
+
+KING OF FRANCE:
+
+DUKE OF BURGUNDY	(BURGUNDY:)
+
+DUKE OF CORNWALL	(CORNWALL:)
+
+DUKE OF ALBANY	(ALBANY:)
+
+EARL OF KENT	(KENT:)
+
+EARL OF GLOUCESTER	(GLOUCESTER:)
+
+EDGAR	son to Gloucester.
+
+EDMUND	bastard son to Gloucester.
+
+CURAN	a courtier.
+
+Old Man	tenant to Gloucester.
+
+Doctor:
+
+Fool:
+
+OSWALD	steward to Goneril.
+
+	A Captain employed by Edmund. (Captain:)
+
+	Gentleman attendant on Cordelia. (Gentleman:)
+	A Herald.
+
+	Servants to Cornwall.
+	(First Servant:)
+	(Second Servant:)
+	(Third Servant:)
+
+
+GONERIL	|
+	|
+REGAN	|  daughters to Lear.
+	|
+CORDELIA	|
+
+
+	Knights of Lear's train, Captains, Messengers,
+	Soldiers, and Attendants
+	(Knight:)
+	(Captain:)
+	(Messenger:)
+
+
+
+SCENE	Britain.
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	King Lear's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND]
+
+KENT	I thought the king had more affected the Duke of
+	Albany than Cornwall.
+
+GLOUCESTER	It did always seem so to us: but now, in the
+	division of the kingdom, it appears not which of
+	the dukes he values most; for equalities are so
+	weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice
+	of either's moiety.
+
+KENT	Is not this your son, my lord?
+
+GLOUCESTER	His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have
+	so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am
+	brazed to it.
+
+KENT	I cannot conceive you.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon
+	she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son
+	for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed.
+	Do you smell a fault?
+
+KENT	I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it
+	being so proper.
+
+GLOUCESTER	But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year
+	elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account:
+	though this knave came something saucily into the
+	world before he was sent for, yet was his mother
+	fair; there was good sport at his making, and the
+	whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this
+	noble gentleman, Edmund?
+
+EDMUND	No, my lord.
+
+GLOUCESTER	My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my
+	honourable friend.
+
+EDMUND	My services to your lordship.
+
+KENT	I must love you, and sue to know you better.
+
+EDMUND	Sir, I shall study deserving.
+
+GLOUCESTER	He hath been out nine years, and away he shall
+	again. The king is coming.
+
+	[Sennet. Enter KING LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY,
+	GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants]
+
+KING LEAR	Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I shall, my liege.
+
+	[Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND]
+
+KING LEAR	Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.
+	Give me the map there. Know that we have divided
+	In three our kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent
+	To shake all cares and business from our age;
+	Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
+	Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall,
+	And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
+	We have this hour a constant will to publish
+	Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife
+	May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy,
+	Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love,
+	Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn,
+	And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters,--
+	Since now we will divest us both of rule,
+	Interest of territory, cares of state,--
+	Which of you shall we say doth love us most?
+	That we our largest bounty may extend
+	Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril,
+	Our eldest-born, speak first.
+
+GONERIL	Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter;
+	Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty;
+	Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare;
+	No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour;
+	As much as child e'er loved, or father found;
+	A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable;
+	Beyond all manner of so much I love you.
+
+CORDELIA	[Aside]  What shall Cordelia do?
+	Love, and be silent.
+
+LEAR	Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
+	With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd,
+	With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
+	We make thee lady: to thine and Albany's issue
+	Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter,
+	Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak.
+
+REGAN	Sir, I am made
+	Of the self-same metal that my sister is,
+	And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
+	I find she names my very deed of love;
+	Only she comes too short: that I profess
+	Myself an enemy to all other joys,
+	Which the most precious square of sense possesses;
+	And find I am alone felicitate
+	In your dear highness' love.
+
+CORDELIA	[Aside]	Then poor Cordelia!
+	And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's
+	More richer than my tongue.
+
+KING LEAR	To thee and thine hereditary ever
+	Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom;
+	No less in space, validity, and pleasure,
+	Than that conferr'd on Goneril. Now, our joy,
+	Although the last, not least; to whose young love
+	The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
+	Strive to be interess'd; what can you say to draw
+	A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.
+
+CORDELIA	Nothing, my lord.
+
+KING LEAR	Nothing!
+
+CORDELIA	Nothing.
+
+KING LEAR	Nothing will come of nothing: speak again.
+
+CORDELIA	Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
+	My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty
+	According to my bond; nor more nor less.
+
+KING LEAR	How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little,
+	Lest it may mar your fortunes.
+
+CORDELIA	Good my lord,
+	You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I
+	Return those duties back as are right fit,
+	Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
+	Why have my sisters husbands, if they say
+	They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,
+	That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
+	Half my love with him, half my care and duty:
+	Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters,
+	To love my father all.
+
+KING LEAR	But goes thy heart with this?
+
+CORDELIA	Ay, good my lord.
+
+KING LEAR	So young, and so untender?
+
+CORDELIA	So young, my lord, and true.
+
+KING LEAR	Let it be so; thy truth, then, be thy dower:
+	For, by the sacred radiance of the sun,
+	The mysteries of Hecate, and the night;
+	By all the operation of the orbs
+	From whom we do exist, and cease to be;
+	Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
+	Propinquity and property of blood,
+	And as a stranger to my heart and me
+	Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian,
+	Or he that makes his generation messes
+	To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
+	Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved,
+	As thou my sometime daughter.
+
+KENT	Good my liege,--
+
+KING LEAR	Peace, Kent!
+	Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
+	I loved her most, and thought to set my rest
+	On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight!
+	So be my grave my peace, as here I give
+	Her father's heart from her! Call France; who stirs?
+	Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany,
+	With my two daughters' dowers digest this third:
+	Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.
+	I do invest you jointly with my power,
+	Pre-eminence, and all the large effects
+	That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course,
+	With reservation of an hundred knights,
+	By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode
+	Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain
+	The name, and all the additions to a king;
+	The sway, revenue, execution of the rest,
+	Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm,
+	This coronet part betwixt you.
+
+	[Giving the crown]
+
+KENT	Royal Lear,
+	Whom I have ever honour'd as my king,
+	Loved as my father, as my master follow'd,
+	As my great patron thought on in my prayers,--
+
+KING LEAR	The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft.
+
+KENT	Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
+	The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly,
+	When Lear is mad. What wilt thou do, old man?
+	Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak,
+	When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound,
+	When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom;
+	And, in thy best consideration, cheque
+	This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment,
+	Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least;
+	Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound
+	Reverbs no hollowness.
+
+KING LEAR	Kent, on thy life, no more.
+
+KENT	My life I never held but as a pawn
+	To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it,
+	Thy safety being the motive.
+
+KING LEAR	Out of my sight!
+
+KENT	See better, Lear; and let me still remain
+	The true blank of thine eye.
+
+KING LEAR	Now, by Apollo,--
+
+KENT	                  Now, by Apollo, king,
+	Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.
+
+KING LEAR	O, vassal! miscreant!
+
+	[Laying his hand on his sword]
+
+
+ALBANY	|
+	|  Dear sir, forbear.
+CORNWALL	|
+
+
+KENT	Do:
+	Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
+	Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom;
+	Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
+	I'll tell thee thou dost evil.
+
+KING LEAR	Hear me, recreant!
+	On thine allegiance, hear me!
+	Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow,
+	Which we durst never yet, and with strain'd pride
+	To come between our sentence and our power,
+	Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,
+	Our potency made good, take thy reward.
+	Five days we do allot thee, for provision
+	To shield thee from diseases of the world;
+	And on the sixth to turn thy hated back
+	Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following,
+	Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions,
+	The moment is thy death. Away! by Jupiter,
+	This shall not be revoked.
+
+KENT	Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear,
+	Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.
+
+	[To CORDELIA]
+
+	The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
+	That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said!
+
+	[To REGAN and GONERIL]
+
+	And your large speeches may your deeds approve,
+	That good effects may spring from words of love.
+	Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu;
+	He'll shape his old course in a country new.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Flourish. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with KING OF FRANCE,
+	BURGUNDY, and Attendants]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord.
+
+KING LEAR	My lord of Burgundy.
+	We first address towards you, who with this king
+	Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what, in the least,
+	Will you require in present dower with her,
+	Or cease your quest of love?
+
+BURGUNDY	Most royal majesty,
+	I crave no more than what your highness offer'd,
+	Nor will you tender less.
+
+KING LEAR	Right noble Burgundy,
+	When she was dear to us, we did hold her so;
+	But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands:
+	If aught within that little seeming substance,
+	Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced,
+	And nothing more, may fitly like your grace,
+	She's there, and she is yours.
+
+BURGUNDY	I know no answer.
+
+KING LEAR	Will you, with those infirmities she owes,
+	Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,
+	Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath,
+	Take her, or leave her?
+
+BURGUNDY	Pardon me, royal sir;
+	Election makes not up on such conditions.
+
+KING LEAR	Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me,
+	I tell you all her wealth.
+
+	[To KING OF FRANCE]
+
+		     For you, great king,
+	I would not from your love make such a stray,
+	To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you
+	To avert your liking a more worthier way
+	Than on a wretch whom nature is ashamed
+	Almost to acknowledge hers.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	This is most strange,
+	That she, that even but now was your best object,
+	The argument of your praise, balm of your age,
+	Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time
+	Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle
+	So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence
+	Must be of such unnatural degree,
+	That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection
+	Fall'n into taint: which to believe of her,
+	Must be a faith that reason without miracle
+	Could never plant in me.
+
+CORDELIA	I yet beseech your majesty,--
+	If for I want that glib and oily art,
+	To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend,
+	I'll do't before I speak,--that you make known
+	It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,
+	No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step,
+	That hath deprived me of your grace and favour;
+	But even for want of that for which I am richer,
+	A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue
+	As I am glad I have not, though not to have it
+	Hath lost me in your liking.
+
+KING LEAR	Better thou
+	Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	Is it but this,--a tardiness in nature
+	Which often leaves the history unspoke
+	That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy,
+	What say you to the lady? Love's not love
+	When it is mingled with regards that stand
+	Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her?
+	She is herself a dowry.
+
+BURGUNDY	Royal Lear,
+	Give but that portion which yourself proposed,
+	And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
+	Duchess of Burgundy.
+
+KING LEAR	Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm.
+
+BURGUNDY	I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father
+	That you must lose a husband.
+
+CORDELIA	Peace be with Burgundy!
+	Since that respects of fortune are his love,
+	I shall not be his wife.
+
+KING OF FRANCE	Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;
+	Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised!
+	Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon:
+	Be it lawful I take up what's cast away.
+	Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect
+	My love should kindle to inflamed respect.
+	Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance,
+	Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France:
+	Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy
+	Can buy this unprized precious maid of me.
+	Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind:
+	Thou losest here, a better where to find.
+
+KING LEAR	Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we
+	Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see
+	That face of hers again. Therefore be gone
+	Without our grace, our love, our benison.
+	Come, noble Burgundy.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt all but KING OF FRANCE, GONERIL,
+	REGAN, and CORDELIA]
+
+KING OF FRANCE	Bid farewell to your sisters.
+
+CORDELIA	The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes
+	Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are;
+	And like a sister am most loath to call
+	Your faults as they are named. Use well our father:
+	To your professed bosoms I commit him
+	But yet, alas, stood I within his grace,
+	I would prefer him to a better place.
+	So, farewell to you both.
+
+REGAN	Prescribe not us our duties.
+
+GONERIL	Let your study
+	Be to content your lord, who hath received you
+	At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted,
+	And well are worth the want that you have wanted.
+
+CORDELIA	Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides:
+	Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
+	Well may you prosper!
+
+KING OF FRANCE	Come, my fair Cordelia.
+
+	[Exeunt KING OF FRANCE and CORDELIA]
+
+GONERIL	Sister, it is not a little I have to say of what
+	most nearly appertains to us both. I think our
+	father will hence to-night.
+
+REGAN	That's most certain, and with you; next month with us.
+
+GONERIL	You see how full of changes his age is; the
+	observation we have made of it hath not been
+	little: he always loved our sister most; and
+	with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off
+	appears too grossly.
+
+REGAN	'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever
+	but slenderly known himself.
+
+GONERIL	The best and soundest of his time hath been but
+	rash; then must we look to receive from his age,
+	not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed
+	condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness
+	that infirm and choleric years bring with them.
+
+REGAN	Such unconstant starts are we like to have from
+	him as this of Kent's banishment.
+
+GONERIL	There is further compliment of leavetaking
+	between France and him. Pray you, let's hit
+	together: if our father carry authority with
+	such dispositions as he bears, this last
+	surrender of his will but offend us.
+
+REGAN	We shall further think on't.
+
+GONERIL	We must do something, and i' the heat.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The Earl of Gloucester's castle.
+
+
+	[Enter EDMUND, with a letter]
+
+EDMUND	Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law
+	My services are bound. Wherefore should I
+	Stand in the plague of custom, and permit
+	The curiosity of nations to deprive me,
+	For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines
+	Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base?
+	When my dimensions are as well compact,
+	My mind as generous, and my shape as true,
+	As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us
+	With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base?
+	Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take
+	More composition and fierce quality
+	Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed,
+	Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops,
+	Got 'tween asleep and wake? Well, then,
+	Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land:
+	Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund
+	As to the legitimate: fine word,--legitimate!
+	Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed,
+	And my invention thrive, Edmund the base
+	Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper:
+	Now, gods, stand up for bastards!
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Kent banish'd thus! and France in choler parted!
+	And the king gone to-night! subscribed his power!
+	Confined to exhibition! All this done
+	Upon the gad! Edmund, how now! what news?
+
+EDMUND	So please your lordship, none.
+
+	[Putting up the letter]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter?
+
+EDMUND	I know no news, my lord.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What paper were you reading?
+
+EDMUND	Nothing, my lord.
+
+GLOUCESTER	No? What needed, then, that terrible dispatch of
+	it into your pocket? the quality of nothing hath
+	not such need to hide itself. Let's see: come,
+	if it be nothing, I shall not need spectacles.
+
+EDMUND	I beseech you, sir, pardon me: it is a letter
+	from my brother, that I have not all o'er-read;
+	and for so much as I have perused, I find it not
+	fit for your o'er-looking.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Give me the letter, sir.
+
+EDMUND	I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The
+	contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Let's see, let's see.
+
+EDMUND	I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote
+	this but as an essay or taste of my virtue.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Reads]  'This policy and reverence of age makes
+	the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps
+	our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relish
+	them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage
+	in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways, not
+	as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to
+	me, that of this I may speak more. If our father
+	would sleep till I waked him, you should half his
+	revenue for ever, and live the beloved of your
+	brother,	EDGAR.'
+
+	Hum--conspiracy!--'Sleep till I waked him,--you
+	should enjoy half his revenue,'--My son Edgar!
+	Had he a hand to write this? a heart and brain
+	to breed it in?--When came this to you? who
+	brought it?
+
+EDMUND	It was not brought me, my lord; there's the
+	cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the
+	casement of my closet.
+
+GLOUCESTER	You know the character to be your brother's?
+
+EDMUND	If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear
+	it were his; but, in respect of that, I would
+	fain think it were not.
+
+GLOUCESTER	It is his.
+
+EDMUND	It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is
+	not in the contents.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Hath he never heretofore sounded you in this business?
+
+EDMUND	Never, my lord: but I have heard him oft
+	maintain it to be fit, that, sons at perfect age,
+	and fathers declining, the father should be as
+	ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue.
+
+GLOUCESTER	O villain, villain! His very opinion in the
+	letter! Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested,
+	brutish villain! worse than brutish! Go, sirrah,
+	seek him; I'll apprehend him: abominable villain!
+	Where is he?
+
+EDMUND	I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please
+	you to suspend your indignation against my
+	brother till you can derive from him better
+	testimony of his intent, you shall run a certain
+	course; where, if you violently proceed against
+	him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great
+	gap in your own honour, and shake in pieces the
+	heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life
+	for him, that he hath wrote this to feel my
+	affection to your honour, and to no further
+	pretence of danger.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Think you so?
+
+EDMUND	If your honour judge it meet, I will place you
+	where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an
+	auricular assurance have your satisfaction; and
+	that without any further delay than this very evening.
+
+GLOUCESTER	He cannot be such a monster--
+
+EDMUND	Nor is not, sure.
+
+GLOUCESTER	To his father, that so tenderly and entirely
+	loves him. Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him
+	out: wind me into him, I pray you: frame the
+	business after your own wisdom. I would unstate
+	myself, to be in a due resolution.
+
+EDMUND	I will seek him, sir, presently: convey the
+	business as I shall find means and acquaint you withal.
+
+GLOUCESTER	These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend
+	no good to us: though the wisdom of nature can
+	reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself
+	scourged by the sequent effects: love cools,
+	friendship falls off, brothers divide: in
+	cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in
+	palaces, treason; and the bond cracked 'twixt son
+	and father. This villain of mine comes under the
+	prediction; there's son against father: the king
+	falls from bias of nature; there's father against
+	child. We have seen the best of our time:
+	machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all
+	ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our
+	graves. Find out this villain, Edmund; it shall
+	lose thee nothing; do it carefully. And the
+	noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his
+	offence, honesty! 'Tis strange.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+EDMUND	This is the excellent foppery of the world, that,
+	when we are sick in fortune,--often the surfeit
+	of our own behavior,--we make guilty of our
+	disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as
+	if we were villains by necessity; fools by
+	heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and
+	treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards,
+	liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of
+	planetary influence; and all that we are evil in,
+	by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion
+	of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish
+	disposition to the charge of a star! My
+	father compounded with my mother under the
+	dragon's tail; and my nativity was under Ursa
+	major; so that it follows, I am rough and
+	lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am,
+	had the maidenliest star in the firmament
+	twinkled on my bastardizing. Edgar--
+
+	[Enter EDGAR]
+
+	And pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old
+	comedy: my cue is villanous melancholy, with a
+	sigh like Tom o' Bedlam. O, these eclipses do
+	portend these divisions! fa, sol, la, mi.
+
+EDGAR	How now, brother Edmund! what serious
+	contemplation are you in?
+
+EDMUND	I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read
+	this other day, what should follow these eclipses.
+
+EDGAR	Do you busy yourself about that?
+
+EDMUND	I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed
+	unhappily; as of unnaturalness between the child
+	and the parent; death, dearth, dissolutions of
+	ancient amities; divisions in state, menaces and
+	maledictions against king and nobles; needless
+	diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation
+	of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what.
+
+EDGAR	How long have you been a sectary astronomical?
+
+EDMUND	Come, come; when saw you my father last?
+
+EDGAR	Why, the night gone by.
+
+EDMUND	Spake you with him?
+
+EDGAR	Ay, two hours together.
+
+EDMUND	Parted you in good terms? Found you no
+	displeasure in him by word or countenance?
+
+EDGAR	None at all.
+
+EDMUND	Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended
+	him: and at my entreaty forbear his presence
+	till some little time hath qualified the heat of
+	his displeasure; which at this instant so rageth
+	in him, that with the mischief of your person it
+	would scarcely allay.
+
+EDGAR	Some villain hath done me wrong.
+
+EDMUND	That's my fear. I pray you, have a continent
+	forbearance till the spied of his rage goes
+	slower; and, as I say, retire with me to my
+	lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to
+	hear my lord speak: pray ye, go; there's my key:
+	if you do stir abroad, go armed.
+
+EDGAR	Armed, brother!
+
+EDMUND	Brother, I advise you to the best; go armed: I
+	am no honest man if there be any good meaning
+	towards you: I have told you what I have seen
+	and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image
+	and horror of it: pray you, away.
+
+EDGAR	Shall I hear from you anon?
+
+EDMUND	I do serve you in this business.
+
+	[Exit EDGAR]
+
+	A credulous father! and a brother noble,
+	Whose nature is so far from doing harms,
+	That he suspects none: on whose foolish honesty
+	My practises ride easy! I see the business.
+	Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit:
+	All with me's meet that I can fashion fit.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The Duke of Albany's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter GONERIL, and OSWALD, her steward]
+
+GONERIL	Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool?
+
+OSWALD	Yes, madam.
+
+GONERIL	By day and night he wrongs me; every hour
+	He flashes into one gross crime or other,
+	That sets us all at odds: I'll not endure it:
+	His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
+	On every trifle. When he returns from hunting,
+	I will not speak with him; say I am sick:
+	If you come slack of former services,
+	You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer.
+
+OSWALD	He's coming, madam; I hear him.
+
+	[Horns within]
+
+GONERIL	Put on what weary negligence you please,
+	You and your fellows; I'll have it come to question:
+	If he dislike it, let him to our sister,
+	Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one,
+	Not to be over-ruled. Idle old man,
+	That still would manage those authorities
+	That he hath given away! Now, by my life,
+	Old fools are babes again; and must be used
+	With cheques as flatteries,--when they are seen abused.
+	Remember what I tell you.
+
+OSWALD	Well, madam.
+
+GONERIL	And let his knights have colder looks among you;
+	What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so:
+	I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall,
+	That I may speak: I'll write straight to my sister,
+	To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A hall in the same.
+
+
+	[Enter KENT, disguised]
+
+KENT	If but as well I other accents borrow,
+	That can my speech defuse, my good intent
+	May carry through itself to that full issue
+	For which I razed my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent,
+	If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd,
+	So may it come, thy master, whom thou lovest,
+	Shall find thee full of labours.
+
+	[Horns within. Enter KING LEAR, Knights, and
+	Attendants]
+
+KING LEAR	Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready.
+
+	[Exit an Attendant]
+
+	How now! what art thou?
+
+KENT	A man, sir.
+
+KING LEAR	What dost thou profess? what wouldst thou with us?
+
+KENT	I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve
+	him truly that will put me in trust: to love him
+	that is honest; to converse with him that is wise,
+	and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I
+	cannot choose; and to eat no fish.
+
+KING LEAR	What art thou?
+
+KENT	A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king.
+
+KING LEAR	If thou be as poor for a subject as he is for a
+	king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou?
+
+KENT	Service.
+
+KING LEAR	Who wouldst thou serve?
+
+KENT	You.
+
+KING LEAR	Dost thou know me, fellow?
+
+KENT	No, sir; but you have that in your countenance
+	which I would fain call master.
+
+KING LEAR	What's that?
+
+KENT	Authority.
+
+KING LEAR	What services canst thou do?
+
+KENT	I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious
+	tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message
+	bluntly: that which ordinary men are fit for, I am
+	qualified in; and the best of me is diligence.
+
+KING LEAR	How old art thou?
+
+KENT	Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, nor
+	so old to dote on her for any thing: I have years
+	on my back forty eight.
+
+KING LEAR	Follow me; thou shalt serve me: if I like thee no
+	worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet.
+	Dinner, ho, dinner! Where's my knave? my fool?
+	Go you, and call my fool hither.
+
+	[Exit an Attendant]
+
+	[Enter OSWALD]
+
+	You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter?
+
+OSWALD	So please you,--
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING LEAR	What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back.
+
+	[Exit a Knight]
+
+	Where's my fool, ho? I think the world's asleep.
+
+	[Re-enter Knight]
+
+	How now! where's that mongrel?
+
+Knight	He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.
+
+KING LEAR	Why came not the slave back to me when I called him.
+
+Knight	Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would
+	not.
+
+KING LEAR	He would not!
+
+Knight	My lord, I know not what the matter is; but, to my
+	judgment, your highness is not entertained with that
+	ceremonious affection as you were wont; there's a
+	great abatement of kindness appears as well in the
+	general dependants as in the duke himself also and
+	your daughter.
+
+KING LEAR	Ha! sayest thou so?
+
+Knight	I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken;
+	for my duty cannot be silent when I think your
+	highness wronged.
+
+KING LEAR	Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception: I
+	have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I
+	have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity
+	than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness:
+	I will look further into't. But where's my fool? I
+	have not seen him this two days.
+
+Knight	Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the
+	fool hath much pined away.
+
+KING LEAR	No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you, and
+	tell my daughter I would speak with her.
+
+	[Exit an Attendant]
+
+	Go you, call hither my fool.
+
+	[Exit an Attendant]
+
+	[Re-enter OSWALD]
+
+	O, you sir, you, come you hither, sir: who am I,
+	sir?
+
+OSWALD	My lady's father.
+
+KING LEAR	'My lady's father'! my lord's knave: your
+	whoreson dog! you slave! you cur!
+
+OSWALD	I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon.
+
+KING LEAR	Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?
+
+	[Striking him]
+
+OSWALD	I'll not be struck, my lord.
+
+KENT	Nor tripped neither, you base football player.
+
+	[Tripping up his heels]
+
+KING LEAR	I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll
+	love thee.
+
+KENT	Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences:
+	away, away! if you will measure your lubber's
+	length again, tarry: but away! go to; have you
+	wisdom? so.
+
+	[Pushes OSWALD out]
+
+KING LEAR	Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's
+	earnest of thy service.
+
+	[Giving KENT money]
+
+	[Enter Fool]
+
+Fool	Let me hire him too: here's my coxcomb.
+
+	[Offering KENT his cap]
+
+KING LEAR	How now, my pretty knave! how dost thou?
+
+Fool	Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.
+
+KENT	Why, fool?
+
+Fool	Why, for taking one's part that's out of favour:
+	nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits,
+	thou'lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb:
+	why, this fellow has banished two on's daughters,
+	and did the third a blessing against his will; if
+	thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb.
+	How now, nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters!
+
+KING LEAR	Why, my boy?
+
+Fool	If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs
+	myself. There's mine; beg another of thy daughters.
+
+KING LEAR	Take heed, sirrah; the whip.
+
+Fool	Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped
+	out, when Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink.
+
+KING LEAR	A pestilent gall to me!
+
+Fool	Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech.
+
+KING LEAR	Do.
+
+Fool	Mark it, nuncle:
+	Have more than thou showest,
+	Speak less than thou knowest,
+	Lend less than thou owest,
+	Ride more than thou goest,
+	Learn more than thou trowest,
+	Set less than thou throwest;
+	Leave thy drink and thy whore,
+	And keep in-a-door,
+	And thou shalt have more
+	Than two tens to a score.
+
+KENT	This is nothing, fool.
+
+Fool	Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer; you
+	gave me nothing for't. Can you make no use of
+	nothing, nuncle?
+
+KING LEAR	Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing.
+
+Fool	[To KENT]  Prithee, tell him, so much the rent of
+	his land comes to: he will not believe a fool.
+
+KING LEAR	A bitter fool!
+
+Fool	Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a
+	bitter fool and a sweet fool?
+
+KING LEAR	No, lad; teach me.
+
+Fool	That lord that counsell'd thee
+	To give away thy land,
+	Come place him here by me,
+	Do thou for him stand:
+	The sweet and bitter fool
+	Will presently appear;
+	The one in motley here,
+	The other found out there.
+
+KING LEAR	Dost thou call me fool, boy?
+
+Fool	All thy other titles thou hast given away; that
+	thou wast born with.
+
+KENT	This is not altogether fool, my lord.
+
+Fool	No, faith, lords and great men will not let me; if
+	I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't:
+	and ladies too, they will not let me have all fool
+	to myself; they'll be snatching. Give me an egg,
+	nuncle, and I'll give thee two crowns.
+
+KING LEAR	What two crowns shall they be?
+
+Fool	Why, after I have cut the egg i' the middle, and eat
+	up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou
+	clovest thy crown i' the middle, and gavest away
+	both parts, thou borest thy ass on thy back o'er
+	the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown,
+	when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak
+	like myself in this, let him be whipped that first
+	finds it so.
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	Fools had ne'er less wit in a year;
+	For wise men are grown foppish,
+	They know not how their wits to wear,
+	Their manners are so apish.
+
+KING LEAR	When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?
+
+Fool	I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy
+	daughters thy mothers: for when thou gavest them
+	the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches,
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	Then they for sudden joy did weep,
+	And I for sorrow sung,
+	That such a king should play bo-peep,
+	And go the fools among.
+
+	Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach
+	thy fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie.
+
+KING LEAR	An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped.
+
+Fool	I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are:
+	they'll have me whipped for speaking true, thou'lt
+	have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am
+	whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any
+	kind o' thing than a fool: and yet I would not be
+	thee, nuncle; thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides,
+	and left nothing i' the middle: here comes one o'
+	the parings.
+
+	[Enter GONERIL]
+
+KING LEAR	How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet on?
+	Methinks you are too much of late i' the frown.
+
+Fool	Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to
+	care for her frowning; now thou art an O without a
+	figure: I am better than thou art now; I am a fool,
+	thou art nothing.
+
+	[To GONERIL]
+
+	Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue; so your face
+	bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum,
+	He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
+	Weary of all, shall want some.
+
+	[Pointing to KING LEAR]
+
+	That's a shealed peascod.
+
+GONERIL	Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool,
+	But other of your insolent retinue
+	Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth
+	In rank and not-to-be endured riots. Sir,
+	I had thought, by making this well known unto you,
+	To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful,
+	By what yourself too late have spoke and done.
+	That you protect this course, and put it on
+	By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
+	Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep,
+	Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
+	Might in their working do you that offence,
+	Which else were shame, that then necessity
+	Will call discreet proceeding.
+
+Fool	For, you trow, nuncle,
+	The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long,
+	That it's had it head bit off by it young.
+	So, out went the candle, and we were left darkling.
+
+KING LEAR	Are you our daughter?
+
+GONERIL	Come, sir,
+	I would you would make use of that good wisdom,
+	Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away
+	These dispositions, that of late transform you
+	From what you rightly are.
+
+Fool	May not an ass know when the cart
+	draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee.
+
+KING LEAR	Doth any here know me? This is not Lear:
+	Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
+	Either his notion weakens, his discernings
+	Are lethargied--Ha! waking? 'tis not so.
+	Who is it that can tell me who I am?
+
+Fool	Lear's shadow.
+
+KING LEAR	I would learn that; for, by the
+	marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason,
+	I should be false persuaded I had daughters.
+
+Fool	Which they will make an obedient father.
+
+KING LEAR	Your name, fair gentlewoman?
+
+GONERIL	This admiration, sir, is much o' the savour
+	Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
+	To understand my purposes aright:
+	As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
+	Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
+	Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold,
+	That this our court, infected with their manners,
+	Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust
+	Make it more like a tavern or a brothel
+	Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak
+	For instant remedy: be then desired
+	By her, that else will take the thing she begs,
+	A little to disquantity your train;
+	And the remainder, that shall still depend,
+	To be such men as may besort your age,
+	And know themselves and you.
+
+KING LEAR	Darkness and devils!
+	Saddle my horses; call my train together:
+	Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee.
+	Yet have I left a daughter.
+
+GONERIL	You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble
+	Make servants of their betters.
+
+	[Enter ALBANY]
+
+KING LEAR	Woe, that too late repents,--
+
+	[To ALBANY]
+
+		        O, sir, are you come?
+	Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my horses.
+	Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
+	More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child
+	Than the sea-monster!
+
+ALBANY	Pray, sir, be patient.
+
+KING LEAR	[To GONERIL]  Detested kite! thou liest.
+	My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
+	That all particulars of duty know,
+	And in the most exact regard support
+	The worships of their name. O most small fault,
+	How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show!
+	That, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature
+	From the fix'd place; drew from heart all love,
+	And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
+	Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in,
+
+	[Striking his head]
+
+	And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people.
+
+ALBANY	My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
+	Of what hath moved you.
+
+KING LEAR	It may be so, my lord.
+	Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear!
+	Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend
+	To make this creature fruitful!
+	Into her womb convey sterility!
+	Dry up in her the organs of increase;
+	And from her derogate body never spring
+	A babe to honour her! If she must teem,
+	Create her child of spleen; that it may live,
+	And be a thwart disnatured torment to her!
+	Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth;
+	With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks;
+	Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
+	To laughter and contempt; that she may feel
+	How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
+	To have a thankless child! Away, away!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ALBANY	Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?
+
+GONERIL	Never afflict yourself to know the cause;
+	But let his disposition have that scope
+	That dotage gives it.
+
+	[Re-enter KING LEAR]
+
+KING LEAR	What, fifty of my followers at a clap!
+	Within a fortnight!
+
+ALBANY	What's the matter, sir?
+
+
+KING LEAR	I'll tell thee:
+
+	[To GONERIL]
+
+	Life and death! I am ashamed
+	That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus;
+	That these hot tears, which break from me perforce,
+	Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee!
+	The untented woundings of a father's curse
+	Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes,
+	Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out,
+	And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
+	To temper clay. Yea, it is come to this?
+	Let is be so: yet have I left a daughter,
+	Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable:
+	When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
+	She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
+	That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think
+	I have cast off for ever: thou shalt,
+	I warrant thee.
+
+	[Exeunt KING LEAR, KENT, and Attendants]
+
+GONERIL	Do you mark that, my lord?
+
+ALBANY	I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
+	To the great love I bear you,--
+
+GONERIL	Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho!
+
+	[To the Fool]
+
+	You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.
+
+Fool	Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool
+	with thee.
+	A fox, when one has caught her,
+	And such a daughter,
+	Should sure to the slaughter,
+	If my cap would buy a halter:
+	So the fool follows after.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+GONERIL	This man hath had good counsel:--a hundred knights!
+	'Tis politic and safe to let him keep
+	At point a hundred knights: yes, that, on every dream,
+	Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike,
+	He may enguard his dotage with their powers,
+	And hold our lives in mercy. Oswald, I say!
+
+ALBANY	Well, you may fear too far.
+
+GONERIL	Safer than trust too far:
+	Let me still take away the harms I fear,
+	Not fear still to be taken: I know his heart.
+	What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister
+	If she sustain him and his hundred knights
+	When I have show'd the unfitness,--
+
+	[Re-enter OSWALD]
+
+		                  How now, Oswald!
+	What, have you writ that letter to my sister?
+
+OSWALD	Yes, madam.
+
+GONERIL	Take you some company, and away to horse:
+	Inform her full of my particular fear;
+	And thereto add such reasons of your own
+	As may compact it more. Get you gone;
+	And hasten your return.
+
+	[Exit OSWALD]
+
+		  No, no, my lord,
+	This milky gentleness and course of yours
+	Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon,
+	You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom
+	Than praised for harmful mildness.
+
+ALBANY	How far your eyes may pierce I can not tell:
+	Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.
+
+GONERIL	Nay, then--
+
+ALBANY	Well, well; the event.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Court before the same.
+
+
+	[Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool]
+
+KING LEAR	Go you before to Gloucester with these letters.
+	Acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you
+	know than comes from her demand out of the letter.
+	If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore you.
+
+KENT	I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered
+	your letter.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Fool	If a man's brains were in's heels, were't not in
+	danger of kibes?
+
+KING LEAR	Ay, boy.
+
+Fool	Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall ne'er go
+	slip-shod.
+
+KING LEAR	Ha, ha, ha!
+
+Fool	Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly;
+	for though she's as like this as a crab's like an
+	apple, yet I can tell what I can tell.
+
+KING LEAR	Why, what canst thou tell, my boy?
+
+Fool	She will taste as like this as a crab does to a
+	crab. Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i'
+	the middle on's face?
+
+KING LEAR	No.
+
+Fool	Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose; that
+	what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into.
+
+KING LEAR	I did her wrong--
+
+Fool	Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?
+
+KING LEAR	No.
+
+Fool	Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house.
+
+KING LEAR	Why?
+
+Fool	Why, to put his head in; not to give it away to his
+	daughters, and leave his horns without a case.
+
+KING LEAR	I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be my
+	horses ready?
+
+Fool	Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the
+	seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason.
+
+KING LEAR	Because they are not eight?
+
+Fool	Yes, indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool.
+
+KING LEAR	To take 't again perforce! Monster ingratitude!
+
+Fool	If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'ld have thee beaten
+	for being old before thy time.
+
+KING LEAR	How's that?
+
+Fool	Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst
+	been wise.
+
+KING LEAR	O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven
+	Keep me in temper: I would not be mad!
+
+	[Enter Gentleman]
+
+	How now! are the horses ready?
+
+Gentleman	Ready, my lord.
+
+KING LEAR	Come, boy.
+
+Fool	She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure,
+	Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	GLOUCESTER's castle.
+
+
+	[Enter EDMUND, and CURAN meets him]
+
+EDMUND	Save thee, Curan.
+
+CURAN	And you, sir. I have been with your father, and
+	given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan
+	his duchess will be here with him this night.
+
+EDMUND	How comes that?
+
+CURAN	Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad;
+	I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but
+	ear-kissing arguments?
+
+EDMUND	Not I	pray you, what are they?
+
+CURAN	Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the
+	Dukes of Cornwall and Albany?
+
+EDMUND	Not a word.
+
+CURAN	You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+EDMUND	The duke be here to-night? The better! best!
+	This weaves itself perforce into my business.
+	My father hath set guard to take my brother;
+	And I have one thing, of a queasy question,
+	Which I must act: briefness and fortune, work!
+	Brother, a word; descend: brother, I say!
+
+	[Enter EDGAR]
+
+	My father watches: O sir, fly this place;
+	Intelligence is given where you are hid;
+	You have now the good advantage of the night:
+	Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall?
+	He's coming hither: now, i' the night, i' the haste,
+	And Regan with him: have you nothing said
+	Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany?
+	Advise yourself.
+
+EDGAR	                  I am sure on't, not a word.
+
+EDMUND	I hear my father coming: pardon me:
+	In cunning I must draw my sword upon you
+	Draw; seem to defend yourself; now quit you well.
+	Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here!
+	Fly, brother. Torches, torches! So, farewell.
+
+	[Exit EDGAR]
+
+	Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion.
+
+	[Wounds his arm]
+
+	Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards
+	Do more than this in sport. Father, father!
+	Stop, stop! No help?
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, and Servants with torches]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Now, Edmund, where's the villain?
+
+EDMUND	Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out,
+	Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon
+	To stand auspicious mistress,--
+
+GLOUCESTER	But where is he?
+
+EDMUND	Look, sir, I bleed.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Where is the villain, Edmund?
+
+EDMUND	Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could--
+
+GLOUCESTER	Pursue him, ho! Go after.
+
+	[Exeunt some Servants]
+
+		     By no means what?
+
+EDMUND	Persuade me to the murder of your lordship;
+	But that I told him, the revenging gods
+	'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend;
+	Spoke, with how manifold and strong a bond
+	The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine,
+	Seeing how loathly opposite I stood
+	To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion,
+	With his prepared sword, he charges home
+	My unprovided body, lanced mine arm:
+	But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits,
+	Bold in the quarrel's right, roused to the encounter,
+	Or whether gasted by the noise I made,
+	Full suddenly he fled.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Let him fly far:
+	Not in this land shall he remain uncaught;
+	And found--dispatch. The noble duke my master,
+	My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night:
+	By his authority I will proclaim it,
+	That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks,
+	Bringing the murderous coward to the stake;
+	He that conceals him, death.
+
+EDMUND	When I dissuaded him from his intent,
+	And found him pight to do it, with curst speech
+	I threaten'd to discover him: he replied,
+	'Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think,
+	If I would stand against thee, would the reposal
+	Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee
+	Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny,--
+	As this I would: ay, though thou didst produce
+	My very character,--I'ld turn it all
+	To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practise:
+	And thou must make a dullard of the world,
+	If they not thought the profits of my death
+	Were very pregnant and potential spurs
+	To make thee seek it.'
+
+GLOUCESTER	Strong and fasten'd villain
+	Would he deny his letter? I never got him.
+
+	[Tucket within]
+
+	Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes.
+	All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape;
+	The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture
+	I will send far and near, that all the kingdom
+	May have the due note of him; and of my land,
+	Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means
+	To make thee capable.
+
+	[Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, and Attendants]
+
+CORNWALL	How now, my noble friend! since I came hither,
+	Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news.
+
+REGAN	If it be true, all vengeance comes too short
+	Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord?
+
+GLOUCESTER	O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's crack'd!
+
+REGAN	What, did my father's godson seek your life?
+	He whom my father named? your Edgar?
+
+GLOUCESTER	O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid!
+
+REGAN	Was he not companion with the riotous knights
+	That tend upon my father?
+
+GLOUCESTER	I know not, madam: 'tis too bad, too bad.
+
+EDMUND	Yes, madam, he was of that consort.
+
+REGAN	No marvel, then, though he were ill affected:
+	'Tis they have put him on the old man's death,
+	To have the expense and waste of his revenues.
+	I have this present evening from my sister
+	Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions,
+	That if they come to sojourn at my house,
+	I'll not be there.
+
+CORNWALL	Nor I, assure thee, Regan.
+	Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
+	A child-like office.
+
+EDMUND	'Twas my duty, sir.
+
+GLOUCESTER	He did bewray his practise; and received
+	This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.
+
+CORNWALL	Is he pursued?
+
+GLOUCESTER	                  Ay, my good lord.
+
+CORNWALL	If he be taken, he shall never more
+	Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose,
+	How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund,
+	Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
+	So much commend itself, you shall be ours:
+	Natures of such deep trust we shall much need;
+	You we first seize on.
+
+EDMUND	I shall serve you, sir,
+	Truly, however else.
+
+GLOUCESTER	For him I thank your grace.
+
+CORNWALL	You know not why we came to visit you,--
+
+REGAN	Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night:
+	Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise,
+	Wherein we must have use of your advice:
+	Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,
+	Of differences, which I least thought it fit
+	To answer from our home; the several messengers
+	From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,
+	Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow
+	Your needful counsel to our business,
+	Which craves the instant use.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I serve you, madam:
+	Your graces are right welcome.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Before Gloucester's castle.
+
+
+	[Enter KENT and OSWALD, severally]
+
+OSWALD	Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house?
+
+KENT	Ay.
+
+OSWALD	Where may we set our horses?
+
+KENT	I' the mire.
+
+OSWALD	Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me.
+
+KENT	I love thee not.
+
+OSWALD	Why, then, I care not for thee.
+
+KENT	If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee
+	care for me.
+
+OSWALD	Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.
+
+KENT	Fellow, I know thee.
+
+OSWALD	What dost thou know me for?
+
+KENT	A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a
+	base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited,
+	hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a
+	lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson,
+	glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue;
+	one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a
+	bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but
+	the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar,
+	and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I
+	will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest
+	the least syllable of thy addition.
+
+OSWALD	Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail
+	on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee!
+
+KENT	What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou
+	knowest me! Is it two days ago since I tripped up
+	thy heels, and beat thee before the king? Draw, you
+	rogue: for, though it be night, yet the moon
+	shines; I'll make a sop o' the moonshine of you:
+	draw, you whoreson cullionly barber-monger, draw.
+
+	[Drawing his sword]
+
+OSWALD	Away! I have nothing to do with thee.
+
+KENT	Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against the
+	king; and take vanity the puppet's part against the
+	royalty of her father: draw, you rogue, or I'll so
+	carbonado your shanks: draw, you rascal; come your ways.
+
+OSWALD	Help, ho! murder! help!
+
+KENT	Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat
+	slave, strike.
+
+	[Beating him]
+
+OSWALD	Help, ho! murder! murder!
+
+	[Enter EDMUND, with his rapier drawn, CORNWALL,
+	REGAN, GLOUCESTER, and Servants]
+
+EDMUND	How now! What's the matter?
+
+KENT	With you, goodman boy, an you please: come, I'll
+	flesh ye; come on, young master.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Weapons! arms! What 's the matter here?
+
+CORNWALL	Keep peace, upon your lives:
+	He dies that strikes again. What is the matter?
+
+REGAN	The messengers from our sister and the king.
+
+CORNWALL	What is your difference? speak.
+
+OSWALD	I am scarce in breath, my lord.
+
+KENT	No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You
+	cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a
+	tailor made thee.
+
+CORNWALL	Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man?
+
+KENT	Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or painter could
+	not have made him so ill, though he had been but two
+	hours at the trade.
+
+CORNWALL	Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?
+
+OSWALD	This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared
+	at suit of his gray beard,--
+
+KENT	Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter! My
+	lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this
+	unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of
+	a jakes with him. Spare my gray beard, you wagtail?
+
+CORNWALL	Peace, sirrah!
+	You beastly knave, know you no reverence?
+
+KENT	Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege.
+
+CORNWALL	Why art thou angry?
+
+KENT	That such a slave as this should wear a sword,
+	Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,
+	Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain
+	Which are too intrinse t' unloose; smooth every passion
+	That in the natures of their lords rebel;
+	Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
+	Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
+	With every gale and vary of their masters,
+	Knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
+	A plague upon your epileptic visage!
+	Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?
+	Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain,
+	I'ld drive ye cackling home to Camelot.
+
+CORNWALL	Why, art thou mad, old fellow?
+
+GLOUCESTER	How fell you out? say that.
+
+KENT	No contraries hold more antipathy
+	Than I and such a knave.
+
+CORNWALL	Why dost thou call him a knave?  What's his offence?
+
+KENT	His countenance likes me not.
+
+CORNWALL	No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers.
+
+KENT	Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain:
+	I have seen better faces in my time
+	Than stands on any shoulder that I see
+	Before me at this instant.
+
+CORNWALL	This is some fellow,
+	Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect
+	A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb
+	Quite from his nature: he cannot flatter, he,
+	An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth!
+	An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain.
+	These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
+	Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends
+	Than twenty silly ducking observants
+	That stretch their duties nicely.
+
+KENT	Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity,
+	Under the allowance of your great aspect,
+	Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
+	On flickering Phoebus' front,--
+
+CORNWALL	What mean'st by this?
+
+KENT	To go out of my dialect, which you
+	discommend so much. I know, sir, I am no
+	flatterer: he that beguiled you in a plain
+	accent was a plain knave; which for my part
+	I will not be, though I should win your displeasure
+	to entreat me to 't.
+
+CORNWALL	What was the offence you gave him?
+
+OSWALD	I never gave him any:
+	It pleased the king his master very late
+	To strike at me, upon his misconstruction;
+	When he, conjunct and flattering his displeasure,
+	Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,
+	And put upon him such a deal of man,
+	That worthied him, got praises of the king
+	For him attempting who was self-subdued;
+	And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
+	Drew on me here again.
+
+KENT	None of these rogues and cowards
+	But Ajax is their fool.
+
+CORNWALL	Fetch forth the stocks!
+	You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart,
+	We'll teach you--
+
+KENT	                  Sir, I am too old to learn:
+	Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king;
+	On whose employment I was sent to you:
+	You shall do small respect, show too bold malice
+	Against the grace and person of my master,
+	Stocking his messenger.
+
+CORNWALL	Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour,
+	There shall he sit till noon.
+
+REGAN	Till noon! till night, my lord; and all night too.
+
+KENT	Why, madam, if I were your father's dog,
+	You should not use me so.
+
+REGAN	Sir, being his knave, I will.
+
+CORNWALL	This is a fellow of the self-same colour
+	Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks!
+
+	[Stocks brought out]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Let me beseech your grace not to do so:
+	His fault is much, and the good king his master
+	Will cheque him for 't: your purposed low correction
+	Is such as basest and contemned'st wretches
+	For pilferings and most common trespasses
+	Are punish'd with: the king must take it ill,
+	That he's so slightly valued in his messenger,
+	Should have him thus restrain'd.
+
+CORNWALL	I'll answer that.
+
+REGAN	My sister may receive it much more worse,
+	To have her gentleman abused, assaulted,
+	For following her affairs. Put in his legs.
+
+	[KENT is put in the stocks]
+
+	Come, my good lord, away.
+
+	[Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER and KENT]
+
+GLOUCESTER	I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure,
+	Whose disposition, all the world well knows,
+	Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd: I'll entreat for thee.
+
+KENT	Pray, do not, sir: I have watched and travell'd hard;
+	Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle.
+	A good man's fortune may grow out at heels:
+	Give you good morrow!
+
+GLOUCESTER	The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KENT	Good king, that must approve the common saw,
+	Thou out of heaven's benediction comest
+	To the warm sun!
+	Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
+	That by thy comfortable beams I may
+	Peruse this letter! Nothing almost sees miracles
+	But misery: I know 'tis from Cordelia,
+	Who hath most fortunately been inform'd
+	Of my obscured course; and shall find time
+	From this enormous state, seeking to give
+	Losses their remedies. All weary and o'erwatch'd,
+	Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
+	This shameful lodging.
+	Fortune, good night: smile once more: turn thy wheel!
+
+	[Sleeps]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A wood.
+
+
+	[Enter EDGAR]
+
+EDGAR	I heard myself proclaim'd;
+	And by the happy hollow of a tree
+	Escaped the hunt. No port is free; no place,
+	That guard, and most unusual vigilance,
+	Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may 'scape,
+	I will preserve myself: and am bethought
+	To take the basest and most poorest shape
+	That ever penury, in contempt of man,
+	Brought near to beast: my face I'll grime with filth;
+	Blanket my loins: elf all my hair in knots;
+	And with presented nakedness out-face
+	The winds and persecutions of the sky.
+	The country gives me proof and precedent
+	Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
+	Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms
+	Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
+	And with this horrible object, from low farms,
+	Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills,
+	Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,
+	Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod! poor Tom!
+	That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Before GLOUCESTER's castle. KENT in the stocks.
+
+
+	[Enter KING LEAR, Fool, and Gentleman]
+
+KING LEAR	'Tis strange that they should so depart from home,
+	And not send back my messenger.
+
+Gentleman	As I learn'd,
+	The night before there was no purpose in them
+	Of this remove.
+
+KENT	                  Hail to thee, noble master!
+
+KING LEAR	Ha!
+	Makest thou this shame thy pastime?
+
+KENT	No, my lord.
+
+Fool	Ha, ha! he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied
+	by the heads, dogs and bears by the neck, monkeys by
+	the loins, and men by the legs: when a man's
+	over-lusty at legs, then he wears wooden
+	nether-stocks.
+
+KING LEAR	What's he that hath so much thy place mistook
+	To set thee here?
+
+KENT	                  It is both he and she;
+	Your son and daughter.
+
+KING LEAR	No.
+
+KENT	Yes.
+
+KING LEAR	No, I say.
+
+KENT	I say, yea.
+
+KING LEAR	No, no, they would not.
+
+KENT	Yes, they have.
+
+KING LEAR	By Jupiter, I swear, no.
+
+KENT	By Juno, I swear, ay.
+
+KING LEAR	They durst not do 't;
+	They could not, would not do 't; 'tis worse than murder,
+	To do upon respect such violent outrage:
+	Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way
+	Thou mightst deserve, or they impose, this usage,
+	Coming from us.
+
+KENT	                  My lord, when at their home
+	I did commend your highness' letters to them,
+	Ere I was risen from the place that show'd
+	My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
+	Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
+	From Goneril his mistress salutations;
+	Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission,
+	Which presently they read: on whose contents,
+	They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse;
+	Commanded me to follow, and attend
+	The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks:
+	And meeting here the other messenger,
+	Whose welcome, I perceived, had poison'd mine,--
+	Being the very fellow that of late
+	Display'd so saucily against your highness,--
+	Having more man than wit about me, drew:
+	He raised the house with loud and coward cries.
+	Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
+	The shame which here it suffers.
+
+Fool	Winter's not gone yet, if the wild-geese fly that way.
+	Fathers that wear rags
+	Do make their children blind;
+	But fathers that bear bags
+	Shall see their children kind.
+	Fortune, that arrant whore,
+	Ne'er turns the key to the poor.
+	But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours
+	for thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year.
+
+KING LEAR	O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!
+	Hysterica passio, down, thou climbing sorrow,
+	Thy element's below! Where is this daughter?
+
+KENT	With the earl, sir, here within.
+
+KING LEAR	Follow me not;
+	Stay here.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Gentleman	Made you no more offence but what you speak of?
+
+KENT	None.
+	How chance the king comes with so small a train?
+
+Fool	And thou hadst been set i' the stocks for that
+	question, thou hadst well deserved it.
+
+KENT	Why, fool?
+
+Fool	We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee
+	there's no labouring i' the winter. All that follow
+	their noses are led by their eyes but blind men; and
+	there's not a nose among twenty but can smell him
+	that's stinking. Let go thy hold when a great wheel
+	runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with
+	following it: but the great one that goes up the
+	hill, let him draw thee after. When a wise man
+	gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I
+	would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.
+	That sir which serves and seeks for gain,
+	And follows but for form,
+	Will pack when it begins to rain,
+	And leave thee in the storm,
+	But I will tarry; the fool will stay,
+	And let the wise man fly:
+	The knave turns fool that runs away;
+	The fool no knave, perdy.
+
+KENT	Where learned you this, fool?
+
+Fool	Not i' the stocks, fool.
+
+	[Re-enter KING LEAR with GLOUCESTER]
+
+KING LEAR	Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary?
+	They have travell'd all the night? Mere fetches;
+	The images of revolt and flying off.
+	Fetch me a better answer.
+
+GLOUCESTER	My dear lord,
+	You know the fiery quality of the duke;
+	How unremoveable and fix'd he is
+	In his own course.
+
+KING LEAR	Vengeance! plague! death! confusion!
+	Fiery? what quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester,
+	I'ld speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so.
+
+KING LEAR	Inform'd them! Dost thou understand me, man?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ay, my good lord.
+
+KING LEAR	The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father
+	Would with his daughter speak, commands her service:
+	Are they inform'd of this? My breath and blood!
+	Fiery? the fiery duke? Tell the hot duke that--
+	No, but not yet: may be he is not well:
+	Infirmity doth still neglect all office
+	Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves
+	When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind
+	To suffer with the body: I'll forbear;
+	And am fall'n out with my more headier will,
+	To take the indisposed and sickly fit
+	For the sound man. Death on my state! wherefore
+
+	[Looking on KENT]
+
+	Should he sit here? This act persuades me
+	That this remotion of the duke and her
+	Is practise only. Give me my servant forth.
+	Go tell the duke and 's wife I'ld speak with them,
+	Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me,
+	Or at their chamber-door I'll beat the drum
+	Till it cry sleep to death.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I would have all well betwixt you.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KING LEAR	O me, my heart, my rising heart! but, down!
+
+Fool	Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels
+	when she put 'em i' the paste alive; she knapped 'em
+	o' the coxcombs with a stick, and cried 'Down,
+	wantons, down!' 'Twas her brother that, in pure
+	kindness to his horse, buttered his hay.
+
+	[Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOUCESTER, and Servants]
+
+KING LEAR	Good morrow to you both.
+
+CORNWALL	Hail to your grace!
+
+	[KENT is set at liberty]
+
+REGAN	I am glad to see your highness.
+
+KING LEAR	Regan, I think you are; I know what reason
+	I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad,
+	I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb,
+	Sepulchring an adultress.
+
+	[To KENT]
+
+		    O, are you free?
+	Some other time for that. Beloved Regan,
+	Thy sister's naught: O Regan, she hath tied
+	Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here:
+
+	[Points to his heart]
+
+	I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe
+	With how depraved a quality--O Regan!
+
+REGAN	I pray you, sir, take patience: I have hope.
+	You less know how to value her desert
+	Than she to scant her duty.
+
+KING LEAR	Say, how is that?
+
+REGAN	I cannot think my sister in the least
+	Would fail her obligation: if, sir, perchance
+	She have restrain'd the riots of your followers,
+	'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
+	As clears her from all blame.
+
+KING LEAR	My curses on her!
+
+REGAN	                  O, sir, you are old.
+	Nature in you stands on the very verge
+	Of her confine: you should be ruled and led
+	By some discretion, that discerns your state
+	Better than you yourself. Therefore, I pray you,
+	That to our sister you do make return;
+	Say you have wrong'd her, sir.
+
+KING LEAR	Ask her forgiveness?
+	Do you but mark how this becomes the house:
+	'Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;
+
+	[Kneeling]
+
+	Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg
+	That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.'
+
+REGAN	Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks:
+	Return you to my sister.
+
+KING LEAR	[Rising]  Never, Regan:
+	She hath abated me of half my train;
+	Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
+	Most serpent-like, upon the very heart:
+	All the stored vengeances of heaven fall
+	On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
+	You taking airs, with lameness!
+
+CORNWALL	Fie, sir, fie!
+
+KING LEAR	You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
+	Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,
+	You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,
+	To fall and blast her pride!
+
+REGAN	O the blest gods! so will you wish on me,
+	When the rash mood is on.
+
+KING LEAR	No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse:
+	Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
+	Thee o'er to harshness: her eyes are fierce; but thine
+	Do comfort and not burn. 'Tis not in thee
+	To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
+	To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
+	And in conclusion to oppose the bolt
+	Against my coming in: thou better know'st
+	The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
+	Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
+	Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot,
+	Wherein I thee endow'd.
+
+REGAN	Good sir, to the purpose.
+
+KING LEAR	Who put my man i' the stocks?
+
+	[Tucket within]
+
+CORNWALL	What trumpet's that?
+
+REGAN	I know't, my sister's: this approves her letter,
+	That she would soon be here.
+
+	[Enter OSWALD]
+
+		       Is your lady come?
+
+KING LEAR	This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride
+	Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.
+	Out, varlet, from my sight!
+
+CORNWALL	What means your grace?
+
+KING LEAR	Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope
+	Thou didst not know on't. Who comes here? O heavens,
+
+	[Enter GONERIL]
+
+	If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
+	Allow obedience, if yourselves are old,
+	Make it your cause; send down, and take my part!
+
+	[To GONERIL]
+
+	Art not ashamed to look upon this beard?
+	O Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?
+
+GONERIL	Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended?
+	All's not offence that indiscretion finds
+	And dotage terms so.
+
+KING LEAR	O sides, you are too tough;
+	Will you yet hold? How came my man i' the stocks?
+
+CORNWALL	I set him there, sir: but his own disorders
+	Deserved much less advancement.
+
+KING LEAR	You! did you?
+
+REGAN	I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
+	If, till the expiration of your month,
+	You will return and sojourn with my sister,
+	Dismissing half your train, come then to me:
+	I am now from home, and out of that provision
+	Which shall be needful for your entertainment.
+
+KING LEAR	Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd?
+	No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
+	To wage against the enmity o' the air;
+	To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,--
+	Necessity's sharp pinch! Return with her?
+	Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took
+	Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
+	To knee his throne, and, squire-like; pension beg
+	To keep base life afoot. Return with her?
+	Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
+	To this detested groom.
+
+	[Pointing at OSWALD]
+
+GONERIL	At your choice, sir.
+
+KING LEAR	I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad:
+	I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell:
+	We'll no more meet, no more see one another:
+	But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter;
+	Or rather a disease that's in my flesh,
+	Which I must needs call mine: thou art a boil,
+	A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle,
+	In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee;
+	Let shame come when it will, I do not call it:
+	I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
+	Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove:
+	Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure:
+	I can be patient; I can stay with Regan,
+	I and my hundred knights.
+
+REGAN	Not altogether so:
+	I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
+	For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister;
+	For those that mingle reason with your passion
+	Must be content to think you old, and so--
+	But she knows what she does.
+
+KING LEAR	Is this well spoken?
+
+REGAN	I dare avouch it, sir: what, fifty followers?
+	Is it not well? What should you need of more?
+	Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger
+	Speak 'gainst so great a number? How, in one house,
+	Should many people, under two commands,
+	Hold amity? 'Tis hard; almost impossible.
+
+GONERIL	Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
+	From those that she calls servants or from mine?
+
+REGAN	Why not, my lord? If then they chanced to slack you,
+	We could control them. If you will come to me,--
+	For now I spy a danger,--I entreat you
+	To bring but five and twenty: to no more
+	Will I give place or notice.
+
+KING LEAR	I gave you all--
+
+REGAN	                  And in good time you gave it.
+
+KING LEAR	Made you my guardians, my depositaries;
+	But kept a reservation to be follow'd
+	With such a number. What, must I come to you
+	With five and twenty, Regan? said you so?
+
+REGAN	And speak't again, my lord; no more with me.
+
+KING LEAR	Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'd,
+	When others are more wicked: not being the worst
+	Stands in some rank of praise.
+
+	[To GONERIL]
+
+		         I'll go with thee:
+	Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty,
+	And thou art twice her love.
+
+GONERIL	Hear me, my lord;
+	What need you five and twenty, ten, or five,
+	To follow in a house where twice so many
+	Have a command to tend you?
+
+REGAN	What need one?
+
+KING LEAR	O, reason not the need: our basest beggars
+	Are in the poorest thing superfluous:
+	Allow not nature more than nature needs,
+	Man's life's as cheap as beast's: thou art a lady;
+	If only to go warm were gorgeous,
+	Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st,
+	Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need,--
+	You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!
+	You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
+	As full of grief as age; wretched in both!
+	If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts
+	Against their father, fool me not so much
+	To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger,
+	And let not women's weapons, water-drops,
+	Stain my man's cheeks! No, you unnatural hags,
+	I will have such revenges on you both,
+	That all the world shall--I will do such things,--
+	What they are, yet I know not: but they shall be
+	The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep
+	No, I'll not weep:
+	I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
+	Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
+	Or ere I'll weep. O fool, I shall go mad!
+
+	[Exeunt KING LEAR, GLOUCESTER, KENT, and Fool]
+
+	[Storm and tempest]
+
+CORNWALL	Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm.
+
+REGAN	This house is little: the old man and his people
+	Cannot be well bestow'd.
+
+GONERIL	'Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest,
+	And must needs taste his folly.
+
+REGAN	For his particular, I'll receive him gladly,
+	But not one follower.
+
+GONERIL	So am I purposed.
+	Where is my lord of Gloucester?
+
+CORNWALL	Follow'd the old man forth: he is return'd.
+
+	[Re-enter GLOUCESTER]
+
+GLOUCESTER	The king is in high rage.
+
+CORNWALL	Whither is he going?
+
+GLOUCESTER	He calls to horse; but will I know not whither.
+
+CORNWALL	'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.
+
+GONERIL	My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds
+	Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about
+	There's scarce a bush.
+
+REGAN	O, sir, to wilful men,
+	The injuries that they themselves procure
+	Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors:
+	He is attended with a desperate train;
+	And what they may incense him to, being apt
+	To have his ear abused, wisdom bids fear.
+
+CORNWALL	Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night:
+	My Regan counsels well; come out o' the storm.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A heath.
+
+
+	[Storm still. Enter KENT and a Gentleman, meeting]
+
+KENT	Who's there, besides foul weather?
+
+Gentleman	One minded like the weather, most unquietly.
+
+KENT	I know you. Where's the king?
+
+Gentleman	Contending with the fretful element:
+	Bids the winds blow the earth into the sea,
+	Or swell the curled water 'bove the main,
+	That things might change or cease; tears his white hair,
+	Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage,
+	Catch in their fury, and make nothing of;
+	Strives in his little world of man to out-scorn
+	The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain.
+	This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch,
+	The lion and the belly-pinched wolf
+	Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
+	And bids what will take all.
+
+KENT	But who is with him?
+
+Gentleman	None but the fool; who labours to out-jest
+	His heart-struck injuries.
+
+KENT	Sir, I do know you;
+	And dare, upon the warrant of my note,
+	Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,
+	Although as yet the face of it be cover'd
+	With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall;
+	Who have--as who have not, that their great stars
+	Throned and set high?--servants, who seem no less,
+	Which are to France the spies and speculations
+	Intelligent of our state; what hath been seen,
+	Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes,
+	Or the hard rein which both of them have borne
+	Against the old kind king; or something deeper,
+	Whereof perchance these are but furnishings;
+	But, true it is, from France there comes a power
+	Into this scatter'd kingdom; who already,
+	Wise in our negligence, have secret feet
+	In some of our best ports, and are at point
+	To show their open banner. Now to you:
+	If on my credit you dare build so far
+	To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
+	Some that will thank you, making just report
+	Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow
+	The king hath cause to plain.
+	I am a gentleman of blood and breeding;
+	And, from some knowledge and assurance, offer
+	This office to you.
+
+Gentleman	I will talk further with you.
+
+KENT	No, do not.
+	For confirmation that I am much more
+	Than my out-wall, open this purse, and take
+	What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia,--
+	As fear not but you shall,--show her this ring;
+	And she will tell you who your fellow is
+	That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!
+	I will go seek the king.
+
+Gentleman	Give me your hand: have you no more to say?
+
+KENT	Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet;
+	That, when we have found the king,--in which your pain
+	That way, I'll this,--he that first lights on him
+	Holla the other.
+
+	[Exeunt severally]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Another part of the heath. Storm still.
+
+
+	[Enter KING LEAR and Fool]
+
+KING LEAR	Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
+	You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
+	Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!
+	You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,
+	Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
+	Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
+	Smite flat the thick rotundity o' the world!
+	Crack nature's moulds, an germens spill at once,
+	That make ingrateful man!
+
+Fool	O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry
+	house is better than this rain-water out o' door.
+	Good nuncle, in, and ask thy daughters' blessing:
+	here's a night pities neither wise man nor fool.
+
+KING LEAR	Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain!
+	Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters:
+	I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness;
+	I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children,
+	You owe me no subscription: then let fall
+	Your horrible pleasure: here I stand, your slave,
+	A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man:
+	But yet I call you servile ministers,
+	That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
+	Your high engender'd battles 'gainst a head
+	So old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul!
+
+Fool	He that has a house to put's head in has a good
+	head-piece.
+	The cod-piece that will house
+	Before the head has any,
+	The head and he shall louse;
+	So beggars marry many.
+	The man that makes his toe
+	What he his heart should make
+	Shall of a corn cry woe,
+	And turn his sleep to wake.
+	For there was never yet fair woman but she made
+	mouths in a glass.
+
+KING LEAR	No, I will be the pattern of all patience;
+	I will say nothing.
+
+	[Enter KENT]
+
+KENT	Who's there?
+
+Fool	Marry, here's grace and a cod-piece; that's a wise
+	man and a fool.
+
+KENT	Alas, sir, are you here? things that love night
+	Love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies
+	Gallow the very wanderers of the dark,
+	And make them keep their caves: since I was man,
+	Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder,
+	Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never
+	Remember to have heard: man's nature cannot carry
+	The affliction nor the fear.
+
+KING LEAR	Let the great gods,
+	That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads,
+	Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,
+	That hast within thee undivulged crimes,
+	Unwhipp'd of justice: hide thee, thou bloody hand;
+	Thou perjured, and thou simular man of virtue
+	That art incestuous: caitiff, to pieces shake,
+	That under covert and convenient seeming
+	Hast practised on man's life: close pent-up guilts,
+	Rive your concealing continents, and cry
+	These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man
+	More sinn'd against than sinning.
+
+KENT	Alack, bare-headed!
+	Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel;
+	Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempest:
+	Repose you there; while I to this hard house--
+	More harder than the stones whereof 'tis raised;
+	Which even but now, demanding after you,
+	Denied me to come in--return, and force
+	Their scanted courtesy.
+
+KING LEAR	My wits begin to turn.
+	Come on, my boy: how dost, my boy? art cold?
+	I am cold myself. Where is this straw, my fellow?
+	The art of our necessities is strange,
+	That can make vile things precious. Come,
+	your hovel.
+	Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart
+	That's sorry yet for thee.
+
+Fool	[Singing]
+
+	He that has and a little tiny wit--
+	With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,--
+	Must make content with his fortunes fit,
+	For the rain it raineth every day.
+
+KING LEAR	True, my good boy. Come, bring us to this hovel.
+
+	[Exeunt KING LEAR and KENT]
+
+Fool	This is a brave night to cool a courtezan.
+	I'll speak a prophecy ere I go:
+	When priests are more in word than matter;
+	When brewers mar their malt with water;
+	When nobles are their tailors' tutors;
+	No heretics burn'd, but wenches' suitors;
+	When every case in law is right;
+	No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;
+	When slanders do not live in tongues;
+	Nor cutpurses come not to throngs;
+	When usurers tell their gold i' the field;
+	And bawds and whores do churches build;
+	Then shall the realm of Albion
+	Come to great confusion:
+	Then comes the time, who lives to see't,
+	That going shall be used with feet.
+	This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before his time.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Gloucester's castle.
+
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER and EDMUND]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural
+	dealing. When I desire their leave that I might
+	pity him, they took from me the use of mine own
+	house; charged me, on pain of their perpetual
+	displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for
+	him, nor any way sustain him.
+
+EDMUND	Most savage and unnatural!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Go to; say you nothing. There's a division betwixt
+	the dukes; and a worse matter than that: I have
+	received a letter this night; 'tis dangerous to be
+	spoken; I have locked the letter in my closet:
+	these injuries the king now bears will be revenged
+	home; there's part of a power already footed: we
+	must incline to the king. I will seek him, and
+	privily relieve him: go you and maintain talk with
+	the duke, that my charity be not of him perceived:
+	if he ask for me. I am ill, and gone to bed.
+	Though I die for it, as no less is threatened me,
+	the king my old master must be relieved. There is
+	some strange thing toward, Edmund; pray you, be careful.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+EDMUND	This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the duke
+	Instantly know; and of that letter too:
+	This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me
+	That which my father loses; no less than all:
+	The younger rises when the old doth fall.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The heath. Before a hovel.
+
+
+	[Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool]
+
+KENT	Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter:
+	The tyranny of the open night's too rough
+	For nature to endure.
+
+	[Storm still]
+
+KING LEAR	Let me alone.
+
+KENT	Good my lord, enter here.
+
+KING LEAR	Wilt break my heart?
+
+KENT	I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter.
+
+KING LEAR	Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storm
+	Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee;
+	But where the greater malady is fix'd,
+	The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'ldst shun a bear;
+	But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea,
+	Thou'ldst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the
+	mind's free,
+	The body's delicate: the tempest in my mind
+	Doth from my senses take all feeling else
+	Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude!
+	Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand
+	For lifting food to't? But I will punish home:
+	No, I will weep no more. In such a night
+	To shut me out! Pour on; I will endure.
+	In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril!
+	Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all,--
+	O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
+	No more of that.
+
+KENT	                  Good my lord, enter here.
+
+KING LEAR	Prithee, go in thyself: seek thine own ease:
+	This tempest will not give me leave to ponder
+	On things would hurt me more. But I'll go in.
+
+	[To the Fool]
+
+	In, boy; go first. You houseless poverty,--
+	Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep.
+
+	[Fool goes in]
+
+	Poor naked wretches, whereso'er you are,
+	That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
+	How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
+	Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you
+	From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en
+	Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
+	Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
+	That thou mayst shake the superflux to them,
+	And show the heavens more just.
+
+EDGAR	[Within]  Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!
+
+	[The Fool runs out from the hovel]
+
+Fool	Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit
+	Help me, help me!
+
+KENT	Give me thy hand. Who's there?
+
+Fool	A spirit, a spirit: he says his name's poor Tom.
+
+KENT	What art thou that dost grumble there i' the straw?
+	Come forth.
+
+	[Enter EDGAR disguised as a mad man]
+
+EDGAR	Away! the foul fiend follows me!
+	Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind.
+	Hum! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.
+
+KING LEAR	Hast thou given all to thy two daughters?
+	And art thou come to this?
+
+EDGAR	Who gives any thing to poor Tom? whom the foul
+	fiend hath led through fire and through flame, and
+	through ford and whirlipool e'er bog and quagmire;
+	that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters
+	in his pew; set ratsbane by his porridge; made film
+	proud of heart, to ride on a bay trotting-horse over
+	four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for a
+	traitor. Bless thy five wits! Tom's a-cold,--O, do
+	de, do de, do de. Bless thee from whirlwinds,
+	star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some
+	charity, whom the foul fiend vexes: there could I
+	have him now,--and there,--and there again, and there.
+
+	[Storm still]
+
+KING LEAR	What, have his daughters brought him to this pass?
+	Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all?
+
+Fool	Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed.
+
+KING LEAR	Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air
+	Hang fated o'er men's faults light on thy daughters!
+
+KENT	He hath no daughters, sir.
+
+KING LEAR	Death, traitor! nothing could have subdued nature
+	To such a lowness but his unkind daughters.
+	Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers
+	Should have thus little mercy on their flesh?
+	Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot
+	Those pelican daughters.
+
+EDGAR	Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill:
+	Halloo, halloo, loo, loo!
+
+Fool	This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.
+
+EDGAR	Take heed o' the foul fiend: obey thy parents;
+	keep thy word justly; swear not; commit not with
+	man's sworn spouse; set not thy sweet heart on proud
+	array. Tom's a-cold.
+
+KING LEAR	What hast thou been?
+
+EDGAR	A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curled
+	my hair; wore gloves in my cap; served the lust of
+	my mistress' heart, and did the act of darkness with
+	her; swore as many oaths as I spake words, and
+	broke them in the sweet face of heaven: one that
+	slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it:
+	wine loved I deeply, dice dearly: and in woman
+	out-paramoured the Turk: false of heart, light of
+	ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth,
+	wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey.
+	Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of
+	silks betray thy poor heart to woman: keep thy foot
+	out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen
+	from lenders' books, and defy the foul fiend.
+	Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind:
+	Says suum, mun, ha, no, nonny.
+	Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! let him trot by.
+
+	[Storm still]
+
+KING LEAR	Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer
+	with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies.
+	Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou
+	owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep
+	no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three on
+	's are sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself:
+	unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor bare,
+	forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings!
+	come unbutton here.
+
+	[Tearing off his clothes]
+
+Fool	Prithee, nuncle, be contented; 'tis a naughty night
+	to swim in. Now a little fire in a wild field were
+	like an old lecher's heart; a small spark, all the
+	rest on's body cold. Look, here comes a walking fire.
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, with a torch]
+
+EDGAR	This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins
+	at curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives
+	the web and the pin, squints the eye, and makes the
+	hare-lip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the
+	poor creature of earth.
+	S. Withold footed thrice the old;
+	He met the night-mare, and her nine-fold;
+	Bid her alight,
+	And her troth plight,
+	And, aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!
+
+KENT	How fares your grace?
+
+KING LEAR	What's he?
+
+KENT	Who's there? What is't you seek?
+
+GLOUCESTER	What are you there? Your names?
+
+EDGAR	Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad,
+	the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in
+	the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages,
+	eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old rat and
+	the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the
+	standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to
+	tithing, and stock- punished, and imprisoned; who
+	hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to his
+	body, horse to ride, and weapon to wear;
+	But mice and rats, and such small deer,
+	Have been Tom's food for seven long year.
+	Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin; peace, thou fiend!
+
+GLOUCESTER	What, hath your grace no better company?
+
+EDGAR	The prince of darkness is a gentleman:
+	Modo he's call'd, and Mahu.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Our flesh and blood is grown so vile, my lord,
+	That it doth hate what gets it.
+
+EDGAR	Poor Tom's a-cold.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer
+	To obey in all your daughters' hard commands:
+	Though their injunction be to bar my doors,
+	And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you,
+	Yet have I ventured to come seek you out,
+	And bring you where both fire and food is ready.
+
+KING LEAR	First let me talk with this philosopher.
+	What is the cause of thunder?
+
+KENT	Good my lord, take his offer; go into the house.
+
+KING LEAR	I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban.
+	What is your study?
+
+EDGAR	How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin.
+
+KING LEAR	Let me ask you one word in private.
+
+KENT	Importune him once more to go, my lord;
+	His wits begin to unsettle.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Canst thou blame him?
+
+	[Storm still]
+
+	His daughters seek his death: ah, that good Kent!
+	He said it would be thus, poor banish'd man!
+	Thou say'st the king grows mad; I'll tell thee, friend,
+	I am almost mad myself: I had a son,
+	Now outlaw'd from my blood; he sought my life,
+	But lately, very late: I loved him, friend;
+	No father his son dearer: truth to tell thee,
+	The grief hath crazed my wits. What a night's this!
+	I do beseech your grace,--
+
+KING LEAR	O, cry your mercy, sir.
+	Noble philosopher, your company.
+
+EDGAR	Tom's a-cold.
+
+GLOUCESTER	In, fellow, there, into the hovel: keep thee warm.
+
+KING LEAR	Come let's in all.
+
+KENT	                  This way, my lord.
+
+KING LEAR	With him;
+	I will keep still with my philosopher.
+
+KENT	Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Take him you on.
+
+KENT	Sirrah, come on; go along with us.
+
+KING LEAR	Come, good Athenian.
+
+GLOUCESTER	No words, no words: hush.
+
+EDGAR	      Child Rowland to the dark tower came,
+	His word was still,--Fie, foh, and fum,
+	I smell the blood of a British man.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Gloucester's castle.
+
+
+	[Enter CORNWALL and EDMUND]
+
+CORNWALL	I will have my revenge ere I depart his house.
+
+EDMUND	How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus
+	gives way to loyalty, something fears me to think
+	of.
+
+CORNWALL	I now perceive, it was not altogether your
+	brother's evil disposition made him seek his death;
+	but a provoking merit, set a-work by a reprovable
+	badness in himself.
+
+EDMUND	How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to
+	be just! This is the letter he spoke of, which
+	approves him an intelligent party to the advantages
+	of France: O heavens! that this treason were not,
+	or not I the detector!
+
+CORNWALL	o with me to the duchess.
+
+EDMUND	If the matter of this paper be certain, you have
+	mighty business in hand.
+
+CORNWALL	True or false, it hath made thee earl of
+	Gloucester. Seek out where thy father is, that he
+	may be ready for our apprehension.
+
+EDMUND	[Aside]  If I find him comforting the king, it will
+	stuff his suspicion more fully.--I will persevere in
+	my course of loyalty, though the conflict be sore
+	between that and my blood.
+
+CORNWALL	I will lay trust upon thee; and thou shalt find a
+	dearer father in my love.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	A chamber in a farmhouse adjoining the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, KING LEAR, KENT, Fool, and EDGAR]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Here is better than the open air; take it
+	thankfully. I will piece out the comfort with what
+	addition I can: I will not be long from you.
+
+KENT	All the power of his wits have given way to his
+	impatience: the gods reward your kindness!
+
+	[Exit GLOUCESTER]
+
+EDGAR	Frateretto calls me; and tells me
+	Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness.
+	Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend.
+
+Fool	Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a
+	gentleman or a yeoman?
+
+KING LEAR	A king, a king!
+
+Fool	No, he's a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son;
+	for he's a mad yeoman that sees his son a gentleman
+	before him.
+
+KING LEAR	To have a thousand with red burning spits
+	Come hissing in upon 'em,--
+
+EDGAR	The foul fiend bites my back.
+
+Fool	He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a
+	horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath.
+
+KING LEAR	It shall be done; I will arraign them straight.
+
+	[To EDGAR]
+
+	Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer;
+
+	[To the Fool]
+
+	Thou, sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she foxes!
+
+EDGAR	   Look, where he stands and glares!
+	Wantest thou eyes at trial, madam?
+	Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me,--
+
+Fool	   Her boat hath a leak,
+	And she must not speak
+	Why she dares not come over to thee.
+
+EDGAR	The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a
+	nightingale. Hopdance cries in Tom's belly for two
+	white herring. Croak not, black angel; I have no
+	food for thee.
+
+KENT	How do you, sir? Stand you not so amazed:
+	Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions?
+
+KING LEAR	I'll see their trial first. Bring in the evidence.
+
+	[To EDGAR]
+
+	Thou robed man of justice, take thy place;
+
+	[To the Fool]
+
+	And thou, his yoke-fellow of equity,
+	Bench by his side:
+
+	[To KENT]
+
+	you are o' the commission,
+	Sit you too.
+
+EDGAR	Let us deal justly.
+	Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?
+	Thy sheep be in the corn;
+	And for one blast of thy minikin mouth,
+	Thy sheep shall take no harm.
+	Pur! the cat is gray.
+
+KING LEAR	Arraign her first; 'tis Goneril. I here take my
+	oath before this honourable assembly, she kicked the
+	poor king her father.
+
+Fool	Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril?
+
+KING LEAR	She cannot deny it.
+
+Fool	Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool.
+
+KING LEAR	And here's another, whose warp'd looks proclaim
+	What store her heart is made on. Stop her there!
+	Arms, arms, sword, fire! Corruption in the place!
+	False justicer, why hast thou let her 'scape?
+
+EDGAR	Bless thy five wits!
+
+KENT	O pity! Sir, where is the patience now,
+	That thou so oft have boasted to retain?
+
+EDGAR	[Aside]  My tears begin to take his part so much,
+	They'll mar my counterfeiting.
+
+KING LEAR	The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and
+	Sweet-heart, see, they bark at me.
+
+EDGAR	Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt, you curs!
+	Be thy mouth or black or white,
+	Tooth that poisons if it bite;
+	Mastiff, grey-hound, mongrel grim,
+	Hound or spaniel, brach or lym,
+	Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail,
+	Tom will make them weep and wail:
+	For, with throwing thus my head,
+	Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.
+	Do de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and
+	fairs and market-towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.
+
+KING LEAR	Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds
+	about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that
+	makes these hard hearts?
+
+	[To EDGAR]
+
+	You, sir, I entertain for one of my hundred; only I
+	do not like the fashion of your garments: you will
+	say they are Persian attire: but let them be changed.
+
+KENT	Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile.
+
+KING LEAR	Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains:
+	so, so, so. We'll go to supper i' he morning. So, so, so.
+
+Fool	And I'll go to bed at noon.
+
+	[Re-enter GLOUCESTER]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Come hither, friend: where is the king my master?
+
+KENT	Here, sir; but trouble him not, his wits are gone.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Good friend, I prithee, take him in thy arms;
+	I have o'erheard a plot of death upon him:
+	There is a litter ready; lay him in 't,
+	And drive towards Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet
+	Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master:
+	If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life,
+	With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
+	Stand in assured loss: take up, take up;
+	And follow me, that will to some provision
+	Give thee quick conduct.
+
+KENT	Oppressed nature sleeps:
+	This rest might yet have balm'd thy broken senses,
+	Which, if convenience will not allow,
+	Stand in hard cure.
+
+	[To the Fool]
+
+	Come, help to bear thy master;
+	Thou must not stay behind.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Come, come, away.
+
+	[Exeunt all but EDGAR]
+
+EDGAR	When we our betters see bearing our woes,
+	We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
+	Who alone suffers suffers most i' the mind,
+	Leaving free things and happy shows behind:
+	But then the mind much sufferance doth o'er skip,
+	When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.
+	How light and portable my pain seems now,
+	When that which makes me bend makes the king bow,
+	He childed as I father'd! Tom, away!
+	Mark the high noises; and thyself bewray,
+	When false opinion, whose wrong thought defiles thee,
+	In thy just proof, repeals and reconciles thee.
+	What will hap more to-night, safe 'scape the king!
+	Lurk, lurk.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Gloucester's castle.
+
+
+	[Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GONERIL, EDMUND, and Servants]
+
+CORNWALL	Post speedily to my lord your husband; show him
+	this letter: the army of France is landed. Seek
+	out the villain Gloucester.
+
+	[Exeunt some of the Servants]
+
+REGAN	Hang him instantly.
+
+GONERIL	Pluck out his eyes.
+
+CORNWALL	Leave him to my displeasure. Edmund, keep you our
+	sister company: the revenges we are bound to take
+	upon your traitorous father are not fit for your
+	beholding. Advise the duke, where you are going, to
+	a most festinate preparation: we are bound to the
+	like. Our posts shall be swift and intelligent
+	betwixt us. Farewell, dear sister: farewell, my
+	lord of Gloucester.
+
+	[Enter OSWALD]
+
+	How now! where's the king?
+
+OSWALD	My lord of Gloucester hath convey'd him hence:
+	Some five or six and thirty of his knights,
+	Hot questrists after him, met him at gate;
+	Who, with some other of the lords dependants,
+	Are gone with him towards Dover; where they boast
+	To have well-armed friends.
+
+CORNWALL	Get horses for your mistress.
+
+GONERIL	Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.
+
+CORNWALL	Edmund, farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt GONERIL, EDMUND, and OSWALD]
+
+	Go seek the traitor Gloucester,
+	Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us.
+
+	[Exeunt other Servants]
+
+	Though well we may not pass upon his life
+	Without the form of justice, yet our power
+	Shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men
+	May blame, but not control. Who's there? the traitor?
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, brought in by two or three]
+
+REGAN	Ingrateful fox! 'tis he.
+
+CORNWALL	Bind fast his corky arms.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What mean your graces? Good my friends, consider
+	You are my guests: do me no foul play, friends.
+
+CORNWALL	Bind him, I say.
+
+	[Servants bind him]
+
+REGAN	                  Hard, hard. O filthy traitor!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Unmerciful lady as you are, I'm none.
+
+CORNWALL	To this chair bind him. Villain, thou shalt find--
+
+	[REGAN plucks his beard]
+
+GLOUCESTER	By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done
+	To pluck me by the beard.
+
+REGAN	So white, and such a traitor!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Naughty lady,
+	These hairs, which thou dost ravish from my chin,
+	Will quicken, and accuse thee: I am your host:
+	With robbers' hands my hospitable favours
+	You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?
+
+CORNWALL	Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?
+
+REGAN	Be simple answerer, for we know the truth.
+
+CORNWALL	And what confederacy have you with the traitors
+	Late footed in the kingdom?
+
+REGAN	To whose hands have you sent the lunatic king? Speak.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I have a letter guessingly set down,
+	Which came from one that's of a neutral heart,
+	And not from one opposed.
+
+CORNWALL	Cunning.
+
+REGAN	And false.
+
+CORNWALL	Where hast thou sent the king?
+
+GLOUCESTER	To Dover.
+
+REGAN	Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charged at peril--
+
+CORNWALL	Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course.
+
+REGAN	Wherefore to Dover, sir?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Because I would not see thy cruel nails
+	Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister
+	In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.
+	The sea, with such a storm as his bare head
+	In hell-black night endured, would have buoy'd up,
+	And quench'd the stelled fires:
+	Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain.
+	If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time,
+	Thou shouldst have said 'Good porter, turn the key,'
+	All cruels else subscribed: but I shall see
+	The winged vengeance overtake such children.
+
+CORNWALL	See't shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair.
+	Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot.
+
+GLOUCESTER	He that will think to live till he be old,
+	Give me some help! O cruel! O you gods!
+
+REGAN	One side will mock another; the other too.
+
+CORNWALL	If you see vengeance,--
+
+First Servant	Hold your hand, my lord:
+	I have served you ever since I was a child;
+	But better service have I never done you
+	Than now to bid you hold.
+
+REGAN	How now, you dog!
+
+First Servant	If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
+	I'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean?
+
+CORNWALL	My villain!
+
+	[They draw and fight]
+
+First Servant	Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.
+
+REGAN	Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus!
+
+	[Takes a sword, and runs at him behind]
+
+First Servant	O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left
+	To see some mischief on him. O!
+
+	[Dies]
+
+CORNWALL	Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!
+	Where is thy lustre now?
+
+GLOUCESTER	All dark and comfortless. Where's my son Edmund?
+	Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature,
+	To quit this horrid act.
+
+REGAN	Out, treacherous villain!
+	Thou call'st on him that hates thee: it was he
+	That made the overture of thy treasons to us;
+	Who is too good to pity thee.
+
+GLOUCESTER	O my follies! then Edgar was abused.
+	Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!
+
+REGAN	Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell
+	His way to Dover.
+
+	[Exit one with GLOUCESTER]
+
+	How is't, my lord? how look you?
+
+CORNWALL	I have received a hurt: follow me, lady.
+	Turn out that eyeless villain; throw this slave
+	Upon the dunghill. Regan, I bleed apace:
+	Untimely comes this hurt: give me your arm.
+
+	[Exit CORNWALL, led by REGAN]
+
+Second Servant	I'll never care what wickedness I do,
+	If this man come to good.
+
+Third Servant	If she live long,
+	And in the end meet the old course of death,
+	Women will all turn monsters.
+
+Second Servant	Let's follow the old earl, and get the Bedlam
+	To lead him where he would: his roguish madness
+	Allows itself to any thing.
+
+Third Servant	Go thou: I'll fetch some flax and whites of eggs
+	To apply to his bleeding face. Now, heaven help him!
+
+	[Exeunt severally]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The heath.
+
+
+	[Enter EDGAR]
+
+EDGAR	Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd,
+	Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst,
+	The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune,
+	Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear:
+	The lamentable change is from the best;
+	The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then,
+	Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace!
+	The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst
+	Owes nothing to thy blasts. But who comes here?
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, led by an Old Man]
+
+	My father, poorly led? World, world, O world!
+	But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
+	Lie would not yield to age.
+
+Old Man	O, my good lord, I have been your tenant, and
+	your father's tenant, these fourscore years.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone:
+	Thy comforts can do me no good at all;
+	Thee they may hurt.
+
+Old Man	Alack, sir, you cannot see your way.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;
+	I stumbled when I saw: full oft 'tis seen,
+	Our means secure us, and our mere defects
+	Prove our commodities. O dear son Edgar,
+	The food of thy abused father's wrath!
+	Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
+	I'ld say I had eyes again!
+
+Old Man	How now! Who's there?
+
+EDGAR	[Aside]  O gods! Who is't can say 'I am at
+	the worst'?
+	I am worse than e'er I was.
+
+Old Man	'Tis poor mad Tom.
+
+EDGAR	[Aside]  And worse I may be yet: the worst is not
+	So long as we can say  'This is the worst.'
+
+Old Man	Fellow, where goest?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Is it a beggar-man?
+
+Old Man	Madman and beggar too.
+
+GLOUCESTER	He has some reason, else he could not beg.
+	I' the last night's storm I such a fellow saw;
+	Which made me think a man a worm: my son
+	Came then into my mind; and yet my mind
+	Was then scarce friends with him: I have heard
+	more since.
+	As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods.
+	They kill us for their sport.
+
+EDGAR	[Aside]	How should this be?
+	Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,
+	Angering itself and others.--Bless thee, master!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Is that the naked fellow?
+
+Old Man	Ay, my lord.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Then, prithee, get thee gone: if, for my sake,
+	Thou wilt o'ertake us, hence a mile or twain,
+	I' the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love;
+	And bring some covering for this naked soul,
+	Who I'll entreat to lead me.
+
+Old Man	Alack, sir, he is mad.
+
+GLOUCESTER	'Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind.
+	Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure;
+	Above the rest, be gone.
+
+Old Man	I'll bring him the best 'parel that I have,
+	Come on't what will.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+GLOUCESTER	Sirrah, naked fellow,--
+
+EDGAR	Poor Tom's a-cold.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	I cannot daub it further.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Come hither, fellow.
+
+EDGAR	[Aside]  And yet I must.--Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Know'st thou the way to Dover?
+
+EDGAR	Both stile and gate, horse-way and foot-path. Poor
+	Tom hath been scared out of his good wits: bless
+	thee, good man's son, from the foul fiend! five
+	fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of lust, as
+	Obidicut; Hobbididence, prince of dumbness; Mahu, of
+	stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet, of
+	mopping and mowing, who since possesses chambermaids
+	and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master!
+
+GLOUCESTER	Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' plagues
+	Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched
+	Makes thee the happier: heavens, deal so still!
+	Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,
+	That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
+	Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly;
+	So distribution should undo excess,
+	And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?
+
+EDGAR	Ay, master.
+
+GLOUCESTER	There is a cliff, whose high and bending head
+	Looks fearfully in the confined deep:
+	Bring me but to the very brim of it,
+	And I'll repair the misery thou dost bear
+	With something rich about me: from that place
+	I shall no leading need.
+
+EDGAR	Give me thy arm:
+	Poor Tom shall lead thee.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Before ALBANY's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter GONERIL and EDMUND]
+
+GONERIL	Welcome, my lord: I marvel our mild husband
+	Not met us on the way.
+
+	[Enter OSWALD]
+
+		 Now, where's your master'?
+
+OSWALD	Madam, within; but never man so changed.
+	I told him of the army that was landed;
+	He smiled at it: I told him you were coming:
+	His answer was 'The worse:' of Gloucester's treachery,
+	And of the loyal service of his son,
+	When I inform'd him, then he call'd me sot,
+	And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out:
+	What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him;
+	What like, offensive.
+
+GONERIL	[To EDMUND]  Then shall you go no further.
+	It is the cowish terror of his spirit,
+	That dares not undertake: he'll not feel wrongs
+	Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way
+	May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother;
+	Hasten his musters and conduct his powers:
+	I must change arms at home, and give the distaff
+	Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant
+	Shall pass between us: ere long you are like to hear,
+	If you dare venture in your own behalf,
+	A mistress's command. Wear this; spare speech;
+
+	[Giving a favour]
+
+	Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak,
+	Would stretch thy spirits up into the air:
+	Conceive, and fare thee well.
+
+EDMUND	Yours in the ranks of death.
+
+GONERIL	My most dear Gloucester!
+
+	[Exit EDMUND]
+
+	O, the difference of man and man!
+	To thee a woman's services are due:
+	My fool usurps my body.
+
+OSWALD	Madam, here comes my lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter ALBANY]
+
+GONERIL	I have been worth the whistle.
+
+ALBANY	O Goneril!
+	You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
+	Blows in your face. I fear your disposition:
+	That nature, which contemns its origin,
+	Cannot be border'd certain in itself;
+	She that herself will sliver and disbranch
+	From her material sap, perforce must wither
+	And come to deadly use.
+
+GONERIL	No more; the text is foolish.
+
+ALBANY	Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile:
+	Filths savour but themselves. What have you done?
+	Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform'd?
+	A father, and a gracious aged man,
+	Whose reverence even the head-lugg'd bear would lick,
+	Most barbarous, most degenerate! have you madded.
+	Could my good brother suffer you to do it?
+	A man, a prince, by him so benefited!
+	If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
+	Send quickly down to tame these vile offences,
+	It will come,
+	Humanity must perforce prey on itself,
+	Like monsters of the deep.
+
+GONERIL	Milk-liver'd man!
+	That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;
+	Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning
+	Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know'st
+	Fools do those villains pity who are punish'd
+	Ere they have done their mischief. Where's thy drum?
+	France spreads his banners in our noiseless land;
+	With plumed helm thy slayer begins threats;
+	Whiles thou, a moral fool, sit'st still, and criest
+	'Alack, why does he so?'
+
+ALBANY	See thyself, devil!
+	Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
+	So horrid as in woman.
+
+GONERIL	O vain fool!
+
+ALBANY	Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shame,
+	Be-monster not thy feature. Were't my fitness
+	To let these hands obey my blood,
+	They are apt enough to dislocate and tear
+	Thy flesh and bones: howe'er thou art a fiend,
+	A woman's shape doth shield thee.
+
+GONERIL	Marry, your manhood now--
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+ALBANY	What news?
+
+Messenger	O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead:
+	Slain by his servant, going to put out
+	The other eye of Gloucester.
+
+ALBANY	Gloucester's eye!
+
+Messenger	A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
+	Opposed against the act, bending his sword
+	To his great master; who, thereat enraged,
+	Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead;
+	But not without that harmful stroke, which since
+	Hath pluck'd him after.
+
+ALBANY	This shows you are above,
+	You justicers, that these our nether crimes
+	So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester!
+	Lost he his other eye?
+
+Messenger	Both, both, my lord.
+	This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
+	'Tis from your sister.
+
+GONERIL	[Aside]              One way I like this well;
+	But being widow, and my Gloucester with her,
+	May all the building in my fancy pluck
+	Upon my hateful life: another way,
+	The news is not so tart.--I'll read, and answer.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ALBANY	Where was his son when they did take his eyes?
+
+Messenger	Come with my lady hither.
+
+ALBANY	He is not here.
+
+Messenger	No, my good lord; I met him back again.
+
+ALBANY	Knows he the wickedness?
+
+Messenger	Ay, my good lord; 'twas he inform'd against him;
+	And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment
+	Might have the freer course.
+
+ALBANY	Gloucester, I live
+	To thank thee for the love thou show'dst the king,
+	And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend:
+	Tell me what more thou know'st.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The French camp near Dover.
+
+
+	[Enter KENT and a Gentleman]
+
+KENT	Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back
+	know you the reason?
+
+Gentleman	Something he left imperfect in the
+	state, which since his coming forth is thought
+	of; which imports to the kingdom so much
+	fear and danger, that his personal return was
+	most required and necessary.
+
+KENT	Who hath he left behind him general?
+
+Gentleman	The Marshal of France, Monsieur La Far.
+
+KENT	Did your letters pierce the queen to any
+	demonstration of grief?
+
+Gentleman	Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence;
+	And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
+	Her delicate cheek: it seem'd she was a queen
+	Over her passion; who, most rebel-like,
+	Sought to be king o'er her.
+
+KENT	O, then it moved her.
+
+Gentleman	Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove
+	Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
+	Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
+	Were like a better way: those happy smilets,
+	That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know
+	What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,
+	As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. In brief,
+	Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved,
+	If all could so become it.
+
+KENT	Made she no verbal question?
+
+Gentleman	'Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of 'father'
+	Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart:
+	Cried 'Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters!
+	Kent! father! sisters! What, i' the storm? i' the night?
+	Let pity not be believed!' There she shook
+	The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
+	And clamour moisten'd: then away she started
+	To deal with grief alone.
+
+KENT	It is the stars,
+	The stars above us, govern our conditions;
+	Else one self mate and mate could not beget
+	Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?
+
+Gentleman	No.
+
+KENT	Was this before the king return'd?
+
+Gentleman	No, since.
+
+KENT	Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear's i' the town;
+	Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers
+	What we are come about, and by no means
+	Will yield to see his daughter.
+
+Gentleman	Why, good sir?
+
+KENT	A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own unkindness,
+	That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her
+	To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
+	To his dog-hearted daughters, these things sting
+	His mind so venomously, that burning shame
+	Detains him from Cordelia.
+
+Gentleman	Alack, poor gentleman!
+
+KENT	Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not?
+
+Gentleman	'Tis so, they are afoot.
+
+KENT	Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear,
+	And leave you to attend him: some dear cause
+	Will in concealment wrap me up awhile;
+	When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
+	Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go
+	Along with me.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The same. A tent.
+
+
+	[Enter, with drum and colours, CORDELIA, Doctor, and Soldiers]
+
+CORDELIA	Alack, 'tis he: why, he was met even now
+	As mad as the vex'd sea; singing aloud;
+	Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds,
+	With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,
+	Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
+	In our sustaining corn. A century send forth;
+	Search every acre in the high-grown field,
+	And bring him to our eye.
+
+	[Exit an Officer]
+
+		    What can man's wisdom
+	In the restoring his bereaved sense?
+	He that helps him take all my outward worth.
+
+Doctor	There is means, madam:
+	Our foster-nurse of nature is repose,
+	The which he lacks; that to provoke in him,
+	Are many simples operative, whose power
+	Will close the eye of anguish.
+
+CORDELIA	All blest secrets,
+	All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth,
+	Spring with my tears! be aidant and remediate
+	In the good man's distress! Seek, seek for him;
+	Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life
+	That wants the means to lead it.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	News, madam;
+	The British powers are marching hitherward.
+
+CORDELIA	'Tis known before; our preparation stands
+	In expectation of them. O dear father,
+	It is thy business that I go about;
+	Therefore great France
+	My mourning and important tears hath pitied.
+	No blown ambition doth our arms incite,
+	But love, dear love, and our aged father's right:
+	Soon may I hear and see him!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Gloucester's castle.
+
+
+	[Enter REGAN and OSWALD]
+
+REGAN	But are my brother's powers set forth?
+
+OSWALD	Ay, madam.
+
+REGAN	Himself in person there?
+
+OSWALD	Madam, with much ado:
+	Your sister is the better soldier.
+
+REGAN	Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?
+
+OSWALD	No, madam.
+
+REGAN	What might import my sister's letter to him?
+
+OSWALD	I know not, lady.
+
+REGAN	'Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.
+	It was great ignorance, Gloucester's eyes being out,
+	To let him live: where he arrives he moves
+	All hearts against us: Edmund, I think, is gone,
+	In pity of his misery, to dispatch
+	His nighted life: moreover, to descry
+	The strength o' the enemy.
+
+OSWALD	I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.
+
+REGAN	Our troops set forth to-morrow: stay with us;
+	The ways are dangerous.
+
+OSWALD	I may not, madam:
+	My lady charged my duty in this business.
+
+REGAN	Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you
+	Transport her purposes by word? Belike,
+	Something--I know not what: I'll love thee much,
+	Let me unseal the letter.
+
+OSWALD	Madam, I had rather--
+
+REGAN	I know your lady does not love her husband;
+	I am sure of that: and at her late being here
+	She gave strange oeillades and most speaking looks
+	To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.
+
+OSWALD	I, madam?
+
+REGAN	I speak in understanding; you are; I know't:
+	Therefore I do advise you, take this note:
+	My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd;
+	And more convenient is he for my hand
+	Than for your lady's: you may gather more.
+	If you do find him, pray you, give him this;
+	And when your mistress hears thus much from you,
+	I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her.
+	So, fare you well.
+	If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
+	Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.
+
+OSWALD	Would I could meet him, madam! I should show
+	What party I do follow.
+
+REGAN	Fare thee well.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Fields near Dover.
+
+
+	[Enter GLOUCESTER, and EDGAR dressed like a peasant]
+
+GLOUCESTER	When shall we come to the top of that same hill?
+
+EDGAR	You do climb up it now: look, how we labour.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Methinks the ground is even.
+
+EDGAR	Horrible steep.
+	Hark, do you hear the sea?
+
+GLOUCESTER	No, truly.
+
+EDGAR	Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect
+	By your eyes' anguish.
+
+GLOUCESTER	So may it be, indeed:
+	Methinks thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st
+	In better phrase and matter than thou didst.
+
+EDGAR	You're much deceived: in nothing am I changed
+	But in my garments.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Methinks you're better spoken.
+
+EDGAR	Come on, sir; here's the place: stand still. How fearful
+	And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low!
+	The crows and choughs that wing the midway air
+	Show scarce so gross as beetles: half way down
+	Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade!
+	Methinks he seems no bigger than his head:
+	The fishermen, that walk upon the beach,
+	Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,
+	Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy
+	Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge,
+	That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes,
+	Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more;
+	Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
+	Topple down headlong.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Set me where you stand.
+
+EDGAR	Give me your hand: you are now within a foot
+	Of the extreme verge: for all beneath the moon
+	Would I not leap upright.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Let go my hand.
+	Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel
+	Well worth a poor man's taking: fairies and gods
+	Prosper it with thee! Go thou farther off;
+	Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.
+
+EDGAR	Now fare you well, good sir.
+
+GLOUCESTER	With all my heart.
+
+EDGAR	Why I do trifle thus with his despair
+	Is done to cure it.
+
+GLOUCESTER	[Kneeling]  O you mighty gods!
+	This world I do renounce, and, in your sights,
+	Shake patiently my great affliction off:
+	If I could bear it longer, and not fall
+	To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,
+	My snuff and loathed part of nature should
+	Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!
+	Now, fellow, fare thee well.
+
+	[He falls forward]
+
+EDGAR	Gone, sir: farewell.
+	And yet I know not how conceit may rob
+	The treasury of life, when life itself
+	Yields to the theft: had he been where he thought,
+	By this, had thought been past. Alive or dead?
+	Ho, you sir! friend! Hear you, sir! speak!
+	Thus might he pass indeed: yet he revives.
+	What are you, sir?
+
+GLOUCESTER	                  Away, and let me die.
+
+EDGAR	Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air,
+	So many fathom down precipitating,
+	Thou'dst shiver'd like an egg: but thou dost breathe;
+	Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak'st; art sound.
+	Ten masts at each make not the altitude
+	Which thou hast perpendicularly fell:
+	Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again.
+
+GLOUCESTER	But have I fall'n, or no?
+
+EDGAR	From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.
+	Look up a-height; the shrill-gorged lark so far
+	Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Alack, I have no eyes.
+	Is wretchedness deprived that benefit,
+	To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort,
+	When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage,
+	And frustrate his proud will.
+
+EDGAR	Give me your arm:
+	Up: so. How is 't? Feel you your legs? You stand.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Too well, too well.
+
+EDGAR	This is above all strangeness.
+	Upon the crown o' the cliff, what thing was that
+	Which parted from you?
+
+GLOUCESTER	A poor unfortunate beggar.
+
+EDGAR	As I stood here below, methought his eyes
+	Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,
+	Horns whelk'd and waved like the enridged sea:
+	It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father,
+	Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours
+	Of men's impossibilities, have preserved thee.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I do remember now: henceforth I'll bear
+	Affliction till it do cry out itself
+	'Enough, enough,' and die. That thing you speak of,
+	I took it for a man; often 'twould say
+	'The fiend, the fiend:' he led me to that place.
+
+EDGAR	Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes here?
+
+	[Enter KING LEAR, fantastically dressed with wild flowers]
+
+	The safer sense will ne'er accommodate
+	His master thus.
+
+KING LEAR	No, they cannot touch me for coining; I am the
+	king himself.
+
+EDGAR	O thou side-piercing sight!
+
+KING LEAR	Nature's above art in that respect. There's your
+	press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a
+	crow-keeper: draw me a clothier's yard. Look,
+	look, a mouse! Peace, peace; this piece of toasted
+	cheese will do 't. There's my gauntlet; I'll prove
+	it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well
+	flown, bird! i' the clout, i' the clout: hewgh!
+	Give the word.
+
+EDGAR	Sweet marjoram.
+
+KING LEAR	Pass.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I know that voice.
+
+KING LEAR	Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They flattered
+	me like a dog; and told me I had white hairs in my
+	beard ere the black ones were there. To say 'ay'
+	and 'no' to every thing that I said!--'Ay' and 'no'
+	too was no good divinity. When the rain came to
+	wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when
+	the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I
+	found 'em, there I smelt 'em out. Go to, they are
+	not men o' their words: they told me I was every
+	thing; 'tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.
+
+GLOUCESTER	The trick of that voice I do well remember:
+	Is 't not the king?
+
+KING LEAR	Ay, every inch a king:
+	When I do stare, see how the subject quakes.
+	I pardon that man's life. What was thy cause? Adultery?
+	Thou shalt not die: die for adultery! No:
+	The wren goes to 't, and the small gilded fly
+	Does lecher in my sight.
+	Let copulation thrive; for Gloucester's bastard son
+	Was kinder to his father than my daughters
+	Got 'tween the lawful sheets.
+	To 't, luxury, pell-mell! for I lack soldiers.
+	Behold yond simpering dame,
+	Whose face between her forks presages snow;
+	That minces virtue, and does shake the head
+	To hear of pleasure's name;
+	The fitchew, nor the soiled horse, goes to 't
+	With a more riotous appetite.
+	Down from the waist they are Centaurs,
+	Though women all above:
+	But to the girdle do the gods inherit,
+	Beneath is all the fiends';
+	There's hell, there's darkness, there's the
+	sulphurous pit,
+	Burning, scalding, stench, consumption; fie,
+	fie, fie! pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet,
+	good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination:
+	there's money for thee.
+
+GLOUCESTER	O, let me kiss that hand!
+
+KING LEAR	Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.
+
+GLOUCESTER	O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world
+	Shall so wear out to nought. Dost thou know me?
+
+KING LEAR	I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny
+	at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid! I'll not
+	love. Read thou this challenge; mark but the
+	penning of it.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Were all the letters suns, I could not see one.
+
+EDGAR	I would not take this from report; it is,
+	And my heart breaks at it.
+
+KING LEAR	Read.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What, with the case of eyes?
+
+KING LEAR	O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your
+	head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in
+	a heavy case, your purse in a light; yet you see how
+	this world goes.
+
+GLOUCESTER	I see it feelingly.
+
+KING LEAR	What, art mad? A man may see how this world goes
+	with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond
+	justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark, in
+	thine ear: change places; and, handy-dandy, which
+	is the justice, which is the thief? Thou hast seen
+	a farmer's dog bark at a beggar?
+
+GLOUCESTER	Ay, sir.
+
+KING LEAR	And the creature run from the cur? There thou
+	mightst behold the great image of authority: a
+	dog's obeyed in office.
+	Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand!
+	Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back;
+	Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind
+	For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer hangs the cozener.
+	Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear;
+	Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
+	And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks:
+	Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it.
+	None does offend, none, I say, none; I'll able 'em:
+	Take that of me, my friend, who have the power
+	To seal the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes;
+	And like a scurvy politician, seem
+	To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now:
+	Pull off my boots: harder, harder: so.
+
+EDGAR	O, matter and impertinency mix'd! Reason in madness!
+
+KING LEAR	If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes.
+	I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester:
+	Thou must be patient; we came crying hither:
+	Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air,
+	We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee: mark.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Alack, alack the day!
+
+KING LEAR	When we are born, we cry that we are come
+	To this great stage of fools: this a good block;
+	It were a delicate stratagem, to shoe
+	A troop of horse with felt: I'll put 't in proof;
+	And when I have stol'n upon these sons-in-law,
+	Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!
+
+	[Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants]
+
+Gentleman	O, here he is: lay hand upon him. Sir,
+	Your most dear daughter--
+
+KING LEAR	No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even
+	The natural fool of fortune. Use me well;
+	You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons;
+	I am cut to the brains.
+
+Gentleman	You shall have any thing.
+
+KING LEAR	No seconds? all myself?
+	Why, this would make a man a man of salt,
+	To use his eyes for garden water-pots,
+	Ay, and laying autumn's dust.
+
+Gentleman	Good sir,--
+
+KING LEAR	I will die bravely, like a bridegroom. What!
+	I will be jovial: come, come; I am a king,
+	My masters, know you that.
+
+Gentleman	You are a royal one, and we obey you.
+
+KING LEAR	Then there's life in't. Nay, if you get it, you
+	shall get it with running. Sa, sa, sa, sa.
+
+	[Exit running; Attendants follow]
+
+Gentleman	A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch,
+	Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter,
+	Who redeems nature from the general curse
+	Which twain have brought her to.
+
+EDGAR	Hail, gentle sir.
+
+Gentleman	                  Sir, speed you: what's your will?
+
+EDGAR	Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?
+
+Gentleman	Most sure and vulgar: every one hears that,
+	Which can distinguish sound.
+
+EDGAR	But, by your favour,
+	How near's the other army?
+
+Gentleman	Near and on speedy foot; the main descry
+	Stands on the hourly thought.
+
+EDGAR	I thank you, sir: that's all.
+
+Gentleman	Though that the queen on special cause is here,
+	Her army is moved on.
+
+EDGAR	I thank you, sir.
+
+	[Exit Gentleman]
+
+GLOUCESTER	You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me:
+	Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
+	To die before you please!
+
+EDGAR	Well pray you, father.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Now, good sir, what are you?
+
+EDGAR	A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows;
+	Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,
+	Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,
+	I'll lead you to some biding.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Hearty thanks:
+	The bounty and the benison of heaven
+	To boot, and boot!
+
+	[Enter OSWALD]
+
+OSWALD	A proclaim'd prize! Most happy!
+	That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh
+	To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor,
+	Briefly thyself remember: the sword is out
+	That must destroy thee.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Now let thy friendly hand
+	Put strength enough to't.
+
+	[EDGAR interposes]
+
+OSWALD	Wherefore, bold peasant,
+	Darest thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence;
+	Lest that the infection of his fortune take
+	Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.
+
+EDGAR	Ch'ill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion.
+
+OSWALD	Let go, slave, or thou diest!
+
+EDGAR	Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volk
+	pass. An chud ha' bin zwaggered out of my life,
+	'twould not ha' bin zo long as 'tis by a vortnight.
+	Nay, come not near th' old man; keep out, che vor
+	ye, or ise try whether your costard or my ballow be
+	the harder: ch'ill be plain with you.
+
+OSWALD	Out, dunghill!
+
+EDGAR	Ch'ill pick your teeth, zir: come; no matter vor
+	your foins.
+
+	[They fight, and EDGAR knocks him down]
+
+OSWALD	Slave, thou hast slain me: villain, take my purse:
+	If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body;
+	And give the letters which thou find'st about me
+	To Edmund earl of Gloucester; seek him out
+	Upon the British party: O, untimely death!
+
+	[Dies]
+
+EDGAR	I know thee well: a serviceable villain;
+	As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
+	As badness would desire.
+
+GLOUCESTER	What, is he dead?
+
+EDGAR	Sit you down, father; rest you
+	Let's see these pockets: the letters that he speaks of
+	May be my friends. He's dead; I am only sorry
+	He had no other death's-man. Let us see:
+	Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not:
+	To know our enemies' minds, we'ld rip their hearts;
+	Their papers, is more lawful.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have
+	many opportunities to cut him off: if your will
+	want not, time and place will be fruitfully offered.
+	There is nothing done, if he return the conqueror:
+	then am I the prisoner, and his bed my goal; from
+	the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply
+	the place for your labour.
+		'Your--wife, so I would say--
+		'Affectionate servant,
+		'GONERIL.'
+	O undistinguish'd space of woman's will!
+	A plot upon her virtuous husband's life;
+	And the exchange my brother! Here, in the sands,
+	Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified
+	Of murderous lechers: and in the mature time
+	With this ungracious paper strike the sight
+	Of the death practised duke: for him 'tis well
+	That of thy death and business I can tell.
+
+GLOUCESTER	The king is mad: how stiff is my vile sense,
+	That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling
+	Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract:
+	So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs,
+	And woes by wrong imaginations lose
+	The knowledge of themselves.
+
+EDGAR	Give me your hand:
+
+	[Drum afar off]
+
+	Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum:
+	Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	A tent in the French camp. LEAR on a bed asleep,
+	soft music playing; Gentleman, and others attending.
+
+
+	[Enter CORDELIA, KENT, and Doctor]
+
+CORDELIA	O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work,
+	To match thy goodness? My life will be too short,
+	And every measure fail me.
+
+KENT	To be acknowledged, madam, is o'erpaid.
+	All my reports go with the modest truth;
+	Nor more nor clipp'd, but so.
+
+CORDELIA	Be better suited:
+	These weeds are memories of those worser hours:
+	I prithee, put them off.
+
+KENT	Pardon me, dear madam;
+	Yet to be known shortens my made intent:
+	My boon I make it, that you know me not
+	Till time and I think meet.
+
+CORDELIA	Then be't so, my good lord.
+
+	[To the Doctor]
+
+		      How does the king?
+
+Doctor	Madam, sleeps still.
+
+CORDELIA	O you kind gods,
+	Cure this great breach in his abused nature!
+	The untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up
+	Of this child-changed father!
+
+Doctor	So please your majesty
+	That we may wake the king: he hath slept long.
+
+CORDELIA	Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed
+	I' the sway of your own will. Is he array'd?
+
+Gentleman	Ay, madam; in the heaviness of his sleep
+	We put fresh garments on him.
+
+Doctor	Be by, good madam, when we do awake him;
+	I doubt not of his temperance.
+
+CORDELIA	Very well.
+
+Doctor	Please you, draw near. Louder the music there!
+
+CORDELIA	O my dear father! Restoration hang
+	Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kiss
+	Repair those violent harms that my two sisters
+	Have in thy reverence made!
+
+KENT	Kind and dear princess!
+
+CORDELIA	Had you not been their father, these white flakes
+	Had challenged pity of them. Was this a face
+	To be opposed against the warring winds?
+	To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
+	In the most terrible and nimble stroke
+	Of quick, cross lightning? to watch--poor perdu!--
+	With this thin helm? Mine enemy's dog,
+	Though he had bit me, should have stood that night
+	Against my fire; and wast thou fain, poor father,
+	To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn,
+	In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
+	'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once
+	Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him.
+
+Doctor	Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.
+
+CORDELIA	How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?
+
+KING LEAR	You do me wrong to take me out o' the grave:
+	Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
+	Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
+	Do scald like moulten lead.
+
+CORDELIA	Sir, do you know me?
+
+KING LEAR	You are a spirit, I know: when did you die?
+
+CORDELIA	Still, still, far wide!
+
+Doctor	He's scarce awake: let him alone awhile.
+
+KING LEAR	Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight?
+	I am mightily abused. I should e'en die with pity,
+	To see another thus. I know not what to say.
+	I will not swear these are my hands: let's see;
+	I feel this pin prick. Would I were assured
+	Of my condition!
+
+CORDELIA	                  O, look upon me, sir,
+	And hold your hands in benediction o'er me:
+	No, sir, you must not kneel.
+
+KING LEAR	Pray, do not mock me:
+	I am a very foolish fond old man,
+	Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less;
+	And, to deal plainly,
+	I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
+	Methinks I should know you, and know this man;
+	Yet I am doubtful for I am mainly ignorant
+	What place this is; and all the skill I have
+	Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
+	Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me;
+	For, as I am a man, I think this lady
+	To be my child Cordelia.
+
+CORDELIA	And so I am, I am.
+
+KING LEAR	Be your tears wet? yes, 'faith. I pray, weep not:
+	If you have poison for me, I will drink it.
+	I know you do not love me; for your sisters
+	Have, as I do remember, done me wrong:
+	You have some cause, they have not.
+
+CORDELIA	No cause, no cause.
+
+KING LEAR	Am I in France?
+
+KENT	                  In your own kingdom, sir.
+
+KING LEAR	Do not abuse me.
+
+Doctor	Be comforted, good madam: the great rage,
+	You see, is kill'd in him: and yet it is danger
+	To make him even o'er the time he has lost.
+	Desire him to go in; trouble him no more
+	Till further settling.
+
+CORDELIA	Will't please your highness walk?
+
+KING LEAR	You must bear with me:
+	Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.
+
+	[Exeunt all but KENT and Gentleman]
+
+Gentleman	Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain?
+
+KENT	Most certain, sir.
+
+Gentleman	Who is conductor of his people?
+
+KENT	As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.
+
+Gentleman	They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the Earl
+	of Kent in Germany.
+
+KENT	Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about; the
+	powers of the kingdom approach apace.
+
+Gentleman	The arbitrement is like to be bloody. Fare you
+	well, sir.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+KENT	My point and period will be throughly wrought,
+	Or well or ill, as this day's battle's fought.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The British camp, near Dover.
+
+
+	[Enter, with drum and colours, EDMUND, REGAN,
+	Gentlemen, and Soldiers.
+
+EDMUND	Know of the duke if his last purpose hold,
+	Or whether since he is advised by aught
+	To change the course: he's full of alteration
+	And self-reproving: bring his constant pleasure.
+
+	[To a Gentleman, who goes out]
+
+REGAN	Our sister's man is certainly miscarried.
+
+EDMUND	'Tis to be doubted, madam.
+
+REGAN	Now, sweet lord,
+	You know the goodness I intend upon you:
+	Tell me--but truly--but then speak the truth,
+	Do you not love my sister?
+
+EDMUND	In honour'd love.
+
+REGAN	But have you never found my brother's way
+	To the forfended place?
+
+EDMUND	That thought abuses you.
+
+REGAN	I am doubtful that you have been conjunct
+	And bosom'd with her, as far as we call hers.
+
+EDMUND	No, by mine honour, madam.
+
+REGAN	I never shall endure her: dear my lord,
+	Be not familiar with her.
+
+EDMUND	Fear me not:
+	She and the duke her husband!
+
+	[Enter, with drum and colours, ALBANY, GONERIL, and Soldiers]
+
+GONERIL	[Aside]  I had rather lose the battle than that sister
+	Should loosen him and me.
+
+ALBANY	Our very loving sister, well be-met.
+	Sir, this I hear; the king is come to his daughter,
+	With others whom the rigor of our state
+	Forced to cry out. Where I could not be honest,
+	I never yet was valiant: for this business,
+	It toucheth us, as France invades our land,
+	Not bolds the king, with others, whom, I fear,
+	Most just and heavy causes make oppose.
+
+EDMUND	Sir, you speak nobly.
+
+REGAN	Why is this reason'd?
+
+GONERIL	Combine together 'gainst the enemy;
+	For these domestic and particular broils
+	Are not the question here.
+
+ALBANY	Let's then determine
+	With the ancient of war on our proceedings.
+
+EDMUND	I shall attend you presently at your tent.
+
+REGAN	Sister, you'll go with us?
+
+GONERIL	No.
+
+REGAN	'Tis most convenient; pray you, go with us.
+
+GONERIL	[Aside]  O, ho, I know the riddle.--I will go.
+
+	[As they are going out, enter EDGAR disguised]
+
+EDGAR	If e'er your grace had speech with man so poor,
+	Hear me one word.
+
+ALBANY	                  I'll overtake you. Speak.
+
+	[Exeunt all but ALBANY and EDGAR]
+
+EDGAR	Before you fight the battle, ope this letter.
+	If you have victory, let the trumpet sound
+	For him that brought it: wretched though I seem,
+	I can produce a champion that will prove
+	What is avouched there. If you miscarry,
+	Your business of the world hath so an end,
+	And machination ceases. Fortune love you.
+
+ALBANY	Stay till I have read the letter.
+
+EDGAR	I was forbid it.
+	When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,
+	And I'll appear again.
+
+ALBANY	Why, fare thee well: I will o'erlook thy paper.
+
+	[Exit EDGAR]
+
+	[Re-enter EDMUND]
+
+EDMUND	The enemy's in view; draw up your powers.
+	Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
+	By diligent discovery; but your haste
+	Is now urged on you.
+
+ALBANY	We will greet the time.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+EDMUND	To both these sisters have I sworn my love;
+	Each jealous of the other, as the stung
+	Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take?
+	Both? one? or neither? Neither can be enjoy'd,
+	If both remain alive: to take the widow
+	Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril;
+	And hardly shall I carry out my side,
+	Her husband being alive. Now then we'll use
+	His countenance for the battle; which being done,
+	Let her who would be rid of him devise
+	His speedy taking off. As for the mercy
+	Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,
+	The battle done, and they within our power,
+	Shall never see his pardon; for my state
+	Stands on me to defend, not to debate.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A field between the two camps.
+
+
+	[Alarum within. Enter, with drum and colours,
+	KING LEAR, CORDELIA, and Soldiers, over the stage;
+	and exeunt]
+
+	[Enter EDGAR and GLOUCESTER]
+
+EDGAR	Here, father, take the shadow of this tree
+	For your good host; pray that the right may thrive:
+	If ever I return to you again,
+	I'll bring you comfort.
+
+GLOUCESTER	Grace go with you, sir!
+
+	[Exit EDGAR]
+
+	[Alarum and retreat within. Re-enter EDGAR]
+
+EDGAR	Away, old man; give me thy hand; away!
+	King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta'en:
+	Give me thy hand; come on.
+
+GLOUCESTER	No farther, sir; a man may rot even here.
+
+EDGAR	What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure
+	Their going hence, even as their coming hither;
+	Ripeness is all: come on.
+
+GLOUCESTER	And that's true too.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	KING LEAR
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The British camp near Dover.
+
+
+	[Enter, in conquest, with drum and colours, EDMUND,
+	KING LEAR and CORDELIA, prisoners; Captain,
+	Soldiers, &c]
+
+EDMUND	Some officers take them away: good guard,
+	Until their greater pleasures first be known
+	That are to censure them.
+
+CORDELIA	We are not the first
+	Who, with best meaning, have incurr'd the worst.
+	For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down;
+	Myself could else out-frown false fortune's frown.
+	Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?
+
+KING LEAR	No, no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison:
+	We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage:
+	When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down,
+	And ask of thee forgiveness: so we'll live,
+	And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
+	At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
+	Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too,
+	Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out;
+	And take upon's the mystery of things,
+	As if we were God's spies: and we'll wear out,
+	In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones,
+	That ebb and flow by the moon.
+
+EDMUND	Take them away.
+
+KING LEAR	Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,
+	The gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught thee?
+	He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven,
+	And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes;
+	The good-years shall devour them, flesh and fell,
+	Ere they shall make us weep: we'll see 'em starve
+	first. Come.
+
+	[Exeunt KING LEAR and CORDELIA, guarded]
+
+EDMUND	Come hither, captain; hark.
+	Take thou this note;
+
+	[Giving a paper]
+
+		go follow them to prison:
+	One step I have advanced thee; if thou dost
+	As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way
+	To noble fortunes: know thou this, that men
+	Are as the time is: to be tender-minded
+	Does not become a sword: thy great employment
+	Will not bear question; either say thou'lt do 't,
+	Or thrive by other means.
+
+Captain	I'll do 't, my lord.
+
+EDMUND	About it; and write happy when thou hast done.
+	Mark, I say, instantly; and carry it so
+	As I have set it down.
+
+Captain	I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats;
+	If it be man's work, I'll do 't.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Flourish. Enter ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, another
+	Captain, and Soldiers]
+
+ALBANY	Sir, you have shown to-day your valiant strain,
+	And fortune led you well: you have the captives
+	That were the opposites of this day's strife:
+	We do require them of you, so to use them
+	As we shall find their merits and our safety
+	May equally determine.
+
+EDMUND	Sir, I thought it fit
+	To send the old and miserable king
+	To some retention and appointed guard;
+	Whose age has charms in it, whose title more,
+	To pluck the common bosom on his side,
+	An turn our impress'd lances in our eyes
+	Which do command them. With him I sent the queen;
+	My reason all the same; and they are ready
+	To-morrow, or at further space, to appear
+	Where you shall hold your session. At this time
+	We sweat and bleed: the friend hath lost his friend;
+	And the best quarrels, in the heat, are cursed
+	By those that feel their sharpness:
+	The question of Cordelia and her father
+	Requires a fitter place.
+
+ALBANY	Sir, by your patience,
+	I hold you but a subject of this war,
+	Not as a brother.
+
+REGAN	                  That's as we list to grace him.
+	Methinks our pleasure might have been demanded,
+	Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers;
+	Bore the commission of my place and person;
+	The which immediacy may well stand up,
+	And call itself your brother.
+
+GONERIL	Not so hot:
+	In his own grace he doth exalt himself,
+	More than in your addition.
+
+REGAN	In my rights,
+	By me invested, he compeers the best.
+
+GONERIL	That were the most, if he should husband you.
+
+REGAN	Jesters do oft prove prophets.
+
+GONERIL	Holla, holla!
+	That eye that told you so look'd but a-squint.
+
+REGAN	Lady, I am not well; else I should answer
+	From a full-flowing stomach. General,
+	Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony;
+	Dispose of them, of me; the walls are thine:
+	Witness the world, that I create thee here
+	My lord and master.
+
+GONERIL	Mean you to enjoy him?
+
+ALBANY	The let-alone lies not in your good will.
+
+EDMUND	Nor in thine, lord.
+
+ALBANY	Half-blooded fellow, yes.
+
+REGAN	[To EDMUND]  Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine.
+
+ALBANY	Stay yet; hear reason. Edmund, I arrest thee
+	On capital treason; and, in thine attaint,
+	This gilded serpent
+
+	[Pointing to Goneril]
+
+	For your claim, fair sister,
+	I bar it in the interest of my wife:
+	'Tis she is sub-contracted to this lord,
+	And I, her husband, contradict your bans.
+	If you will marry, make your loves to me,
+	My lady is bespoke.
+
+GONERIL	An interlude!
+
+ALBANY	Thou art arm'd, Gloucester: let the trumpet sound:
+	If none appear to prove upon thy head
+	Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons,
+	There is my pledge;
+
+	[Throwing down a glove]
+
+	I'll prove it on thy heart,
+	Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less
+	Than I have here proclaim'd thee.
+
+REGAN	Sick, O, sick!
+
+GONERIL	[Aside]  If not, I'll ne'er trust medicine.
+
+EDMUND	There's my exchange:
+
+	[Throwing down a glove]
+
+		what in the world he is
+	That names me traitor, villain-like he lies:
+	Call by thy trumpet: he that dares approach,
+	On him, on you, who not? I will maintain
+	My truth and honour firmly.
+
+ALBANY	A herald, ho!
+
+EDMUND	                  A herald, ho, a herald!
+
+ALBANY	Trust to thy single virtue; for thy soldiers,
+	All levied in my name, have in my name
+	Took their discharge.
+
+REGAN	My sickness grows upon me.
+
+ALBANY	She is not well; convey her to my tent.
+
+	[Exit Regan, led]
+
+	[Enter a Herald]
+
+	Come hither, herald,--Let the trumpet sound,
+	And read out this.
+
+Captain	Sound, trumpet!
+
+	[A trumpet sounds]
+
+Herald	[Reads]  'If any man of quality or degree within
+	the lists of the army will maintain upon Edmund,
+	supposed Earl of Gloucester, that he is a manifold
+	traitor, let him appear by the third sound of the
+	trumpet: he is bold in his defence.'
+
+EDMUND	Sound!
+
+	[First trumpet]
+
+Herald	Again!
+
+	[Second trumpet]
+
+Herald	Again!
+
+	[Third trumpet]
+
+	[Trumpet answers within]
+
+	[Enter EDGAR, at the third sound, armed, with a
+	trumpet before him]
+
+ALBANY	Ask him his purposes, why he appears
+	Upon this call o' the trumpet.
+
+Herald	What are you?
+	Your name, your quality? and why you answer
+	This present summons?
+
+EDGAR	Know, my name is lost;
+	By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit:
+	Yet am I noble as the adversary
+	I come to cope.
+
+ALBANY	                  Which is that adversary?
+
+EDGAR	What's he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Gloucester?
+
+EDMUND	Himself: what say'st thou to him?
+
+EDGAR	Draw thy sword,
+	That, if my speech offend a noble heart,
+	Thy arm may do thee justice: here is mine.
+	Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours,
+	My oath, and my profession: I protest,
+	Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence,
+	Despite thy victor sword and fire-new fortune,
+	Thy valour and thy heart, thou art a traitor;
+	False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father;
+	Conspirant 'gainst this high-illustrious prince;
+	And, from the extremest upward of thy head
+	To the descent and dust below thy foot,
+	A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou 'No,'
+	This sword, this arm, and my best spirits, are bent
+	To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak,
+	Thou liest.
+
+EDMUND	In wisdom I should ask thy name;
+	But, since thy outside looks so fair and warlike,
+	And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes,
+	What safe and nicely I might well delay
+	By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn:
+	Back do I toss these treasons to thy head;
+	With the hell-hated lie o'erwhelm thy heart;
+	Which, for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise,
+	This sword of mine shall give them instant way,
+	Where they shall rest for ever. Trumpets, speak!
+
+	[Alarums. They fight. EDMUND falls]
+
+ALBANY	Save him, save him!
+
+GONERIL	This is practise, Gloucester:
+	By the law of arms thou wast not bound to answer
+	An unknown opposite; thou art not vanquish'd,
+	But cozen'd and beguiled.
+
+ALBANY	Shut your mouth, dame,
+	Or with this paper shall I stop it: Hold, sir:
+	Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil:
+	No tearing, lady: I perceive you know it.
+
+	[Gives the letter to EDMUND]
+
+GONERIL	Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not thine:
+	Who can arraign me for't.
+
+ALBANY	Most monstrous! oh!
+	Know'st thou this paper?
+
+GONERIL	Ask me not what I know.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ALBANY	Go after her: she's desperate; govern her.
+
+EDMUND	What you have charged me with, that have I done;
+	And more, much more; the time will bring it out:
+	'Tis past, and so am I. But what art thou
+	That hast this fortune on me? If thou'rt noble,
+	I do forgive thee.
+
+EDGAR	                  Let's exchange charity.
+	I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;
+	If more, the more thou hast wrong'd me.
+	My name is Edgar, and thy father's son.
+	The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
+	Make instruments to plague us:
+	The dark and vicious place where thee he got
+	Cost him his eyes.
+
+EDMUND	                  Thou hast spoken right, 'tis true;
+	The wheel is come full circle: I am here.
+
+ALBANY	Methought thy very gait did prophesy
+	A royal nobleness: I must embrace thee:
+	Let sorrow split my heart, if ever I
+	Did hate thee or thy father!
+
+EDGAR	Worthy prince, I know't.
+
+ALBANY	Where have you hid yourself?
+	How have you known the miseries of your father?
+
+EDGAR	By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale;
+	And when 'tis told, O, that my heart would burst!
+	The bloody proclamation to escape,
+	That follow'd me so near,--O, our lives' sweetness!
+	That we the pain of death would hourly die
+	Rather than die at once!--taught me to shift
+	Into a madman's rags; to assume a semblance
+	That very dogs disdain'd: and in this habit
+	Met I my father with his bleeding rings,
+	Their precious stones new lost: became his guide,
+	Led him, begg'd for him, saved him from despair;
+	Never,--O fault!--reveal'd myself unto him,
+	Until some half-hour past, when I was arm'd:
+	Not sure, though hoping, of this good success,
+	I ask'd his blessing, and from first to last
+	Told him my pilgrimage: but his flaw'd heart,
+	Alack, too weak the conflict to support!
+	'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,
+	Burst smilingly.
+
+EDMUND	This speech of yours hath moved me,
+	And shall perchance do good: but speak you on;
+	You look as you had something more to say.
+
+ALBANY	If there be more, more woeful, hold it in;
+	For I am almost ready to dissolve,
+	Hearing of this.
+
+EDGAR	                  This would have seem'd a period
+	To such as love not sorrow; but another,
+	To amplify too much, would make much more,
+	And top extremity.
+	Whilst I was big in clamour came there in a man,
+	Who, having seen me in my worst estate,
+	Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but then, finding
+	Who 'twas that so endured, with his strong arms
+	He fastened on my neck, and bellow'd out
+	As he'ld burst heaven; threw him on my father;
+	Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him
+	That ever ear received: which in recounting
+	His grief grew puissant and the strings of life
+	Began to crack: twice then the trumpets sounded,
+	And there I left him tranced.
+
+ALBANY	But who was this?
+
+EDGAR	Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent; who in disguise
+	Follow'd his enemy king, and did him service
+	Improper for a slave.
+
+	[Enter a Gentleman, with a bloody knife]
+
+Gentleman	Help, help, O, help!
+
+EDGAR	What kind of help?
+
+ALBANY	Speak, man.
+
+EDGAR	What means that bloody knife?
+
+Gentleman	'Tis hot, it smokes;
+	It came even from the heart of--O, she's dead!
+
+ALBANY	Who dead? speak, man.
+
+Gentleman	Your lady, sir, your lady: and her sister
+	By her is poisoned; she hath confess'd it.
+
+EDMUND	I was contracted to them both: all three
+	Now marry in an instant.
+
+EDGAR	Here comes Kent.
+
+ALBANY	Produce their bodies, be they alive or dead:
+	This judgment of the heavens, that makes us tremble,
+	Touches us not with pity.
+
+	[Exit Gentleman]
+
+	[Enter KENT]
+
+		    O, is this he?
+	The time will not allow the compliment
+	Which very manners urges.
+
+KENT	I am come
+	To bid my king and master aye good night:
+	Is he not here?
+
+ALBANY	                  Great thing of us forgot!
+	Speak, Edmund, where's the king? and where's Cordelia?
+	See'st thou this object, Kent?
+
+	[The bodies of GONERIL and REGAN are brought in]
+
+KENT	Alack, why thus?
+
+EDMUND	                  Yet Edmund was beloved:
+	The one the other poison'd for my sake,
+	And after slew herself.
+
+ALBANY	Even so. Cover their faces.
+
+EDMUND	I pant for life: some good I mean to do,
+	Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send,
+	Be brief in it, to the castle; for my writ
+	Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia:
+	Nay, send in time.
+
+ALBANY	                  Run, run, O, run!
+
+EDGAR	To who, my lord? Who hath the office? send
+	Thy token of reprieve.
+
+EDMUND	Well thought on: take my sword,
+	Give it the captain.
+
+ALBANY	Haste thee, for thy life.
+
+	[Exit EDGAR]
+
+EDMUND	He hath commission from thy wife and me
+	To hang Cordelia in the prison, and
+	To lay the blame upon her own despair,
+	That she fordid herself.
+
+ALBANY	The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile.
+
+	[EDMUND is borne off]
+
+	[Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms;
+	EDGAR, Captain, and others following]
+
+KING LEAR	Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:
+	Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so
+	That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!
+	I know when one is dead, and when one lives;
+	She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;
+	If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,
+	Why, then she lives.
+
+KENT	Is this the promised end
+
+EDGAR	Or image of that horror?
+
+ALBANY	Fall, and cease!
+
+KING LEAR	This feather stirs; she lives! if it be so,
+	It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows
+	That ever I have felt.
+
+KENT	[Kneeling]  O my good master!
+
+KING LEAR	Prithee, away.
+
+EDGAR	'Tis noble Kent, your friend.
+
+KING LEAR	A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!
+	I might have saved her; now she's gone for ever!
+	Cordelia, Cordelia! stay a little. Ha!
+	What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft,
+	Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.
+	I kill'd the slave that was a-hanging thee.
+
+Captain	'Tis true, my lords, he did.
+
+KING LEAR	Did I not, fellow?
+	I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion
+	I would have made them skip: I am old now,
+	And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you?
+	Mine eyes are not o' the best: I'll tell you straight.
+
+KENT	If fortune brag of two she loved and hated,
+	One of them we behold.
+
+KING LEAR	This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent?
+
+KENT	The same,
+	Your servant Kent: Where is your servant Caius?
+
+KING LEAR	He's a good fellow, I can tell you that;
+	He'll strike, and quickly too: he's dead and rotten.
+
+KENT	No, my good lord; I am the very man,--
+
+KING LEAR	I'll see that straight.
+
+KENT	That, from your first of difference and decay,
+	Have follow'd your sad steps.
+
+KING LEAR	You are welcome hither.
+
+KENT	Nor no man else: all's cheerless, dark, and deadly.
+	Your eldest daughters have fordone them selves,
+	And desperately are dead.
+
+KING LEAR	Ay, so I think.
+
+ALBANY	He knows not what he says: and vain it is
+	That we present us to him.
+
+EDGAR	Very bootless.
+
+	[Enter a Captain]
+
+Captain	Edmund is dead, my lord.
+
+ALBANY	That's but a trifle here.
+	You lords and noble friends, know our intent.
+	What comfort to this great decay may come
+	Shall be applied: for us we will resign,
+	During the life of this old majesty,
+	To him our absolute power:
+
+	[To EDGAR and KENT]
+
+		     you, to your rights:
+	With boot, and such addition as your honours
+	Have more than merited. All friends shall taste
+	The wages of their virtue, and all foes
+	The cup of their deservings. O, see, see!
+
+KING LEAR	And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!
+	Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
+	And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,
+	Never, never, never, never, never!
+	Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.
+	Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,
+	Look there, look there!
+
+	[Dies]
+
+EDGAR	He faints! My lord, my lord!
+
+KENT	Break, heart; I prithee, break!
+
+EDGAR	Look up, my lord.
+
+KENT	Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass! he hates him much
+	That would upon the rack of this tough world
+	Stretch him out longer.
+
+EDGAR	He is gone, indeed.
+
+KENT	The wonder is, he hath endured so long:
+	He but usurp'd his life.
+
+ALBANY	Bear them from hence. Our present business
+	Is general woe.
+
+	[To KENT and EDGAR]
+
+	Friends of my soul, you twain
+	Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain.
+
+KENT	I have a journey, sir, shortly to go;
+	My master calls me, I must not say no.
+
+ALBANY	The weight of this sad time we must obey;
+	Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
+	The oldest hath borne most: we that are young
+	Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
+
+	[Exeunt, with a dead march]
+	MACBETH
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+DUNCAN	king of Scotland.
+
+
+MALCOLM	|
+	|  his sons.
+DONALBAIN	|
+
+
+MACBETH	|
+	|  generals of the king's army.
+BANQUO	|
+
+
+MACDUFF	|
+	|
+LENNOX	|
+	|
+ROSS	|
+	|  noblemen of Scotland.
+MENTEITH	|
+	|
+ANGUS	|
+	|
+CAITHNESS	|
+
+
+FLEANCE	son to Banquo.
+
+SIWARD	Earl of Northumberland, general of the English forces.
+
+YOUNG SIWARD	his son.
+
+SEYTON	an officer attending on Macbeth.
+
+	Boy, son to Macduff. (Son:)
+
+	An English Doctor. (Doctor:)
+
+	A Scotch Doctor. (Doctor:)
+
+	A Soldier.
+	A Porter.
+
+	An Old Man
+
+LADY MACBETH:
+
+LADY MACDUFF:
+
+	Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth. (Gentlewoman:)
+
+HECATE:
+
+	Three Witches.
+	(First Witch:)
+	(Second Witch:)
+	(Third Witch:)
+
+	Apparitions.
+	(First Apparition:)
+	(Second Apparition:)
+	(Third Apparition:)
+
+	Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers,
+	Attendants, and Messengers. (Lord:)
+	(Sergeant:)
+	(Servant:)
+	(First Murderer:)
+	(Second Murderer:)
+	(Third Murderer:)
+	(Messenger:)
+
+SCENE	Scotland: England.
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A desert place.
+
+
+	[Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches]
+
+First Witch	When shall we three meet again
+	In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
+
+Second Witch	When the hurlyburly's done,
+	When the battle's lost and won.
+
+Third Witch	That will be ere the set of sun.
+
+First Witch	Where the place?
+
+Second Witch	                  Upon the heath.
+
+Third Witch	There to meet with Macbeth.
+
+First Witch	I come, Graymalkin!
+
+Second Witch	Paddock calls.
+
+Third Witch	Anon.
+
+ALL	Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
+	Hover through the fog and filthy air.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A camp near Forres.
+
+
+	[Alarum within. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN,
+	LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant]
+
+DUNCAN	What bloody man is that? He can report,
+	As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
+	The newest state.
+
+MALCOLM	                  This is the sergeant
+	Who like a good and hardy soldier fought
+	'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend!
+	Say to the king the knowledge of the broil
+	As thou didst leave it.
+
+Sergeant	Doubtful it stood;
+	As two spent swimmers, that do cling together
+	And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald--
+	Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
+	The multiplying villanies of nature
+	Do swarm upon him--from the western isles
+	Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;
+	And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
+	Show'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak:
+	For brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name--
+	Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
+	Which smoked with bloody execution,
+	Like valour's minion carved out his passage
+	Till he faced the slave;
+	Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
+	Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,
+	And fix'd his head upon our battlements.
+
+DUNCAN	O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
+
+Sergeant	As whence the sun 'gins his reflection
+	Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break,
+	So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come
+	Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark:
+	No sooner justice had with valour arm'd
+	Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels,
+	But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage,
+	With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men
+	Began a fresh assault.
+
+DUNCAN	Dismay'd not this
+	Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
+
+Sergeant	Yes;
+	As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
+	If I say sooth, I must report they were
+	As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they
+	Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
+	Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
+	Or memorise another Golgotha,
+	I cannot tell.
+	But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.
+
+DUNCAN	So well thy words become thee as thy wounds;
+	They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons.
+
+	[Exit Sergeant, attended]
+
+	Who comes here?
+
+	[Enter ROSS]
+
+MALCOLM	                  The worthy thane of Ross.
+
+LENNOX	What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look
+	That seems to speak things strange.
+
+ROSS	God save the king!
+
+DUNCAN	Whence camest thou, worthy thane?
+
+ROSS	From Fife, great king;
+	Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky
+	And fan our people cold. Norway himself,
+	With terrible numbers,
+	Assisted by that most disloyal traitor
+	The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict;
+	Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof,
+	Confronted him with self-comparisons,
+	Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm.
+	Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude,
+	The victory fell on us.
+
+DUNCAN	Great happiness!
+
+ROSS	That now
+	Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition:
+	Nor would we deign him burial of his men
+	Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch
+	Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
+
+DUNCAN	No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive
+	Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death,
+	And with his former title greet Macbeth.
+
+ROSS	I'll see it done.
+
+DUNCAN	What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A heath near Forres.
+
+
+	[Thunder. Enter the three Witches]
+
+First Witch	Where hast thou been, sister?
+
+Second Witch	Killing swine.
+
+Third Witch	Sister, where thou?
+
+First Witch	A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap,
+	And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:--
+	'Give me,' quoth I:
+	'Aroint thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon cries.
+	Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger:
+	But in a sieve I'll thither sail,
+	And, like a rat without a tail,
+	I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.
+
+Second Witch	I'll give thee a wind.
+
+First Witch	Thou'rt kind.
+
+Third Witch	And I another.
+
+First Witch	I myself have all the other,
+	And the very ports they blow,
+	All the quarters that they know
+	I' the shipman's card.
+	I will drain him dry as hay:
+	Sleep shall neither night nor day
+	Hang upon his pent-house lid;
+	He shall live a man forbid:
+	Weary se'nnights nine times nine
+	Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:
+	Though his bark cannot be lost,
+	Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
+	Look what I have.
+
+Second Witch	Show me, show me.
+
+First Witch	Here I have a pilot's thumb,
+	Wreck'd as homeward he did come.
+
+	[Drum within]
+
+Third Witch	A drum, a drum!
+	Macbeth doth come.
+
+ALL	The weird sisters, hand in hand,
+	Posters of the sea and land,
+	Thus do go about, about:
+	Thrice to thine and thrice to mine
+	And thrice again, to make up nine.
+	Peace! the charm's wound up.
+
+	[Enter MACBETH and BANQUO]
+
+MACBETH	So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
+
+BANQUO	How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these
+	So wither'd and so wild in their attire,
+	That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,
+	And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught
+	That man may question? You seem to understand me,
+	By each at once her chappy finger laying
+	Upon her skinny lips: you should be women,
+	And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
+	That you are so.
+
+MACBETH	                  Speak, if you can: what are you?
+
+First Witch	All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis!
+
+Second Witch	All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, thane of Cawdor!
+
+Third Witch	All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter!
+
+BANQUO	Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear
+	Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth,
+	Are ye fantastical, or that indeed
+	Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
+	You greet with present grace and great prediction
+	Of noble having and of royal hope,
+	That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not.
+	If you can look into the seeds of time,
+	And say which grain will grow and which will not,
+	Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear
+	Your favours nor your hate.
+
+First Witch	Hail!
+
+Second Witch	Hail!
+
+Third Witch	Hail!
+
+First Witch	Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
+
+Second Witch	Not so happy, yet much happier.
+
+Third Witch	Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:
+	So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
+
+First Witch	Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!
+
+MACBETH	Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:
+	By Sinel's death I know I am thane of Glamis;
+	But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives,
+	A prosperous gentleman; and to be king
+	Stands not within the prospect of belief,
+	No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence
+	You owe this strange intelligence? or why
+	Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
+	With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you.
+
+	[Witches vanish]
+
+BANQUO	The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
+	And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd?
+
+MACBETH	Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted
+	As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd!
+
+BANQUO	Were such things here as we do speak about?
+	Or have we eaten on the insane root
+	That takes the reason prisoner?
+
+MACBETH	Your children shall be kings.
+
+BANQUO	You shall be king.
+
+MACBETH	And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so?
+
+BANQUO	To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here?
+
+	[Enter ROSS and ANGUS]
+
+ROSS	The king hath happily received, Macbeth,
+	The news of thy success; and when he reads
+	Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
+	His wonders and his praises do contend
+	Which should be thine or his: silenced with that,
+	In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day,
+	He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
+	Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
+	Strange images of death. As thick as hail
+	Came post with post; and every one did bear
+	Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
+	And pour'd them down before him.
+
+ANGUS	We are sent
+	To give thee from our royal master thanks;
+	Only to herald thee into his sight,
+	Not pay thee.
+
+ROSS	And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
+	He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor:
+	In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!
+	For it is thine.
+
+BANQUO	                  What, can the devil speak true?
+
+MACBETH	The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me
+	In borrow'd robes?
+
+ANGUS	                  Who was the thane lives yet;
+	But under heavy judgment bears that life
+	Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined
+	With those of Norway, or did line the rebel
+	With hidden help and vantage, or that with both
+	He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not;
+	But treasons capital, confess'd and proved,
+	Have overthrown him.
+
+MACBETH	[Aside]  Glamis, and thane of Cawdor!
+	The greatest is behind.
+
+	[To ROSS and ANGUS]
+
+		  Thanks for your pains.
+
+	[To BANQUO]
+
+	Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
+	When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me
+	Promised no less to them?
+
+BANQUO	That trusted home
+	Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
+	Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
+	And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
+	The instruments of darkness tell us truths,
+	Win us with honest trifles, to betray's
+	In deepest consequence.
+	Cousins, a word, I pray you.
+
+MACBETH	[Aside]	Two truths are told,
+	As happy prologues to the swelling act
+	Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen.
+
+	[Aside]  This supernatural soliciting
+	Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill,
+	Why hath it given me earnest of success,
+	Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
+	If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
+	Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair
+	And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
+	Against the use of nature? Present fears
+	Are less than horrible imaginings:
+	My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
+	Shakes so my single state of man that function
+	Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is
+	But what is not.
+
+BANQUO	                  Look, how our partner's rapt.
+
+MACBETH	[Aside]  If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me,
+	Without my stir.
+
+BANQUO	                  New horrors come upon him,
+	Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould
+	But with the aid of use.
+
+MACBETH	[Aside]                Come what come may,
+	Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
+
+BANQUO	Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.
+
+MACBETH	Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought
+	With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains
+	Are register'd where every day I turn
+	The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king.
+	Think upon what hath chanced, and, at more time,
+	The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak
+	Our free hearts each to other.
+
+BANQUO	Very gladly.
+
+MACBETH	Till then, enough. Come, friends.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Forres. The palace.
+
+
+	[Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX,
+	and Attendants]
+
+DUNCAN	Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
+	Those in commission yet return'd?
+
+MALCOLM	My liege,
+	They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
+	With one that saw him die: who did report
+	That very frankly he confess'd his treasons,
+	Implored your highness' pardon and set forth
+	A deep repentance: nothing in his life
+	Became him like the leaving it; he died
+	As one that had been studied in his death
+	To throw away the dearest thing he owed,
+	As 'twere a careless trifle.
+
+DUNCAN	There's no art
+	To find the mind's construction in the face:
+	He was a gentleman on whom I built
+	An absolute trust.
+
+	[Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSS, and ANGUS]
+
+	O worthiest cousin!
+	The sin of my ingratitude even now
+	Was heavy on me: thou art so far before
+	That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
+	To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved,
+	That the proportion both of thanks and payment
+	Might have been mine! only I have left to say,
+	More is thy due than more than all can pay.
+
+MACBETH	The service and the loyalty I owe,
+	In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part
+	Is to receive our duties; and our duties
+	Are to your throne and state children and servants,
+	Which do but what they should, by doing every thing
+	Safe toward your love and honour.
+
+DUNCAN	Welcome hither:
+	I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
+	To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,
+	That hast no less deserved, nor must be known
+	No less to have done so, let me enfold thee
+	And hold thee to my heart.
+
+BANQUO	There if I grow,
+	The harvest is your own.
+
+DUNCAN	My plenteous joys,
+	Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
+	In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
+	And you whose places are the nearest, know
+	We will establish our estate upon
+	Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
+	The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must
+	Not unaccompanied invest him only,
+	But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
+	On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
+	And bind us further to you.
+
+MACBETH	The rest is labour, which is not used for you:
+	I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful
+	The hearing of my wife with your approach;
+	So humbly take my leave.
+
+DUNCAN	My worthy Cawdor!
+
+MACBETH	[Aside]  The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step
+	On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap,
+	For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires;
+	Let not light see my black and deep desires:
+	The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be,
+	Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DUNCAN	True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant,
+	And in his commendations I am fed;
+	It is a banquet to me. Let's after him,
+	Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:
+	It is a peerless kinsman.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Inverness. Macbeth's castle.
+
+
+	[Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter]
+
+LADY MACBETH	'They met me in the day of success: and I have
+	learned by the perfectest report, they have more in
+	them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire
+	to question them further, they made themselves air,
+	into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in
+	the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who
+	all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor;' by which title,
+	before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred
+	me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that
+	shalt be!' This have I thought good to deliver
+	thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou
+	mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being
+	ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it
+	to thy heart, and farewell.'
+	Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be
+	What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature;
+	It is too full o' the milk of human kindness
+	To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great;
+	Art not without ambition, but without
+	The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly,
+	That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
+	And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'ldst have, great Glamis,
+	That which cries 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it;
+	And that which rather thou dost fear to do
+	Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither,
+	That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
+	And chastise with the valour of my tongue
+	All that impedes thee from the golden round,
+	Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
+	To have thee crown'd withal.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+		       What is your tidings?
+
+Messenger	The king comes here to-night.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Thou'rt mad to say it:
+	Is not thy master with him? who, were't so,
+	Would have inform'd for preparation.
+
+Messenger	So please you, it is true: our thane is coming:
+	One of my fellows had the speed of him,
+	Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more
+	Than would make up his message.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Give him tending;
+	He brings great news.
+
+	[Exit Messenger]
+
+		The raven himself is hoarse
+	That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
+	Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
+	That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
+	And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
+	Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood;
+	Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
+	That no compunctious visitings of nature
+	Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
+	The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
+	And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
+	Wherever in your sightless substances
+	You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
+	And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
+	That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
+	Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
+	To cry 'Hold, hold!'
+
+	[Enter MACBETH]
+
+		Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!
+	Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
+	Thy letters have transported me beyond
+	This ignorant present, and I feel now
+	The future in the instant.
+
+MACBETH	My dearest love,
+	Duncan comes here to-night.
+
+LADY MACBETH	And when goes hence?
+
+MACBETH	To-morrow, as he purposes.
+
+LADY MACBETH	O, never
+	Shall sun that morrow see!
+	Your face, my thane, is as a book where men
+	May read strange matters. To beguile the time,
+	Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
+	Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,
+	But be the serpent under't. He that's coming
+	Must be provided for: and you shall put
+	This night's great business into my dispatch;
+	Which shall to all our nights and days to come
+	Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
+
+MACBETH	We will speak further.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Only look up clear;
+	To alter favour ever is to fear:
+	Leave all the rest to me.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Before Macbeth's castle.
+
+
+	[Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM,
+	DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, ROSS, ANGUS,
+	and Attendants]
+
+DUNCAN	This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
+	Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
+	Unto our gentle senses.
+
+BANQUO	This guest of summer,
+	The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
+	By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath
+	Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze,
+	Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird
+	Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle:
+	Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed,
+	The air is delicate.
+
+	[Enter LADY MACBETH]
+
+DUNCAN	See, see, our honour'd hostess!
+	The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,
+	Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you
+	How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains,
+	And thank us for your trouble.
+
+LADY MACBETH	All our service
+	In every point twice done and then done double
+	Were poor and single business to contend
+	Against those honours deep and broad wherewith
+	Your majesty loads our house: for those of old,
+	And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
+	We rest your hermits.
+
+DUNCAN	Where's the thane of Cawdor?
+	We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose
+	To be his purveyor: but he rides well;
+	And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
+	To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,
+	We are your guest to-night.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Your servants ever
+	Have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt,
+	To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,
+	Still to return your own.
+
+DUNCAN	Give me your hand;
+	Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly,
+	And shall continue our graces towards him.
+	By your leave, hostess.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Macbeth's castle.
+
+
+	[Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers
+	Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the
+	stage. Then enter MACBETH]
+
+MACBETH	If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well
+	It were done quickly: if the assassination
+	Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
+	With his surcease success; that but this blow
+	Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
+	But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,
+	We'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases
+	We still have judgment here; that we but teach
+	Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
+	To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice
+	Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
+	To our own lips. He's here in double trust;
+	First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
+	Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
+	Who should against his murderer shut the door,
+	Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
+	Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
+	So clear in his great office, that his virtues
+	Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
+	The deep damnation of his taking-off;
+	And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
+	Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed
+	Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
+	Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
+	That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur
+	To prick the sides of my intent, but only
+	Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself
+	And falls on the other.
+
+	[Enter LADY MACBETH]
+
+		  How now! what news?
+
+LADY MACBETH	He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber?
+
+MACBETH	Hath he ask'd for me?
+
+LADY MACBETH	Know you not he has?
+
+MACBETH	We will proceed no further in this business:
+	He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought
+	Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
+	Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
+	Not cast aside so soon.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Was the hope drunk
+	Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since?
+	And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
+	At what it did so freely? From this time
+	Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard
+	To be the same in thine own act and valour
+	As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
+	Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,
+	And live a coward in thine own esteem,
+	Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,'
+	Like the poor cat i' the adage?
+
+MACBETH	Prithee, peace:
+	I dare do all that may become a man;
+	Who dares do more is none.
+LADY MACBETH	What beast was't, then,
+	That made you break this enterprise to me?
+	When you durst do it, then you were a man;
+	And, to be more than what you were, you would
+	Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place
+	Did then adhere, and yet you would make both:
+	They have made themselves, and that their fitness now
+	Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know
+	How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me:
+	I would, while it was smiling in my face,
+	Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums,
+	And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you
+	Have done to this.
+
+MACBETH	                  If we should fail?
+
+LADY MACBETH	We fail!
+	But screw your courage to the sticking-place,
+	And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep--
+	Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey
+	Soundly invite him--his two chamberlains
+	Will I with wine and wassail so convince
+	That memory, the warder of the brain,
+	Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason
+	A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep
+	Their drenched natures lie as in a death,
+	What cannot you and I perform upon
+	The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
+	His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt
+	Of our great quell?
+
+MACBETH	Bring forth men-children only;
+	For thy undaunted mettle should compose
+	Nothing but males. Will it not be received,
+	When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two
+	Of his own chamber and used their very daggers,
+	That they have done't?
+
+LADY MACBETH	Who dares receive it other,
+	As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar
+	Upon his death?
+
+MACBETH	                  I am settled, and bend up
+	Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.
+	Away, and mock the time with fairest show:
+	False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Court of Macbeth's castle.
+
+
+	[Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE bearing a torch before him]
+
+BANQUO	How goes the night, boy?
+
+FLEANCE	The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
+
+BANQUO	And she goes down at twelve.
+
+FLEANCE	I take't, 'tis later, sir.
+
+BANQUO	Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven;
+	Their candles are all out. Take thee that too.
+	A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
+	And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers,
+	Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature
+	Gives way to in repose!
+
+	[Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch]
+
+		  Give me my sword.
+	Who's there?
+
+MACBETH	A friend.
+
+BANQUO	What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed:
+	He hath been in unusual pleasure, and
+	Sent forth great largess to your offices.
+	This diamond he greets your wife withal,
+	By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up
+	In measureless content.
+
+MACBETH	Being unprepared,
+	Our will became the servant to defect;
+	Which else should free have wrought.
+
+BANQUO	All's well.
+	I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters:
+	To you they have show'd some truth.
+
+MACBETH	I think not of them:
+	Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
+	We would spend it in some words upon that business,
+	If you would grant the time.
+
+BANQUO	At your kind'st leisure.
+
+MACBETH	If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis,
+	It shall make honour for you.
+
+BANQUO	So I lose none
+	In seeking to augment it, but still keep
+	My bosom franchised and allegiance clear,
+	I shall be counsell'd.
+
+MACBETH	Good repose the while!
+
+BANQUO	Thanks, sir: the like to you!
+
+	[Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE]
+
+MACBETH	Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,
+	She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+	Is this a dagger which I see before me,
+	The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
+	I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
+	Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
+	To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
+	A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
+	Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
+	I see thee yet, in form as palpable
+	As this which now I draw.
+	Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
+	And such an instrument I was to use.
+	Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
+	Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still,
+	And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
+	Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
+	It is the bloody business which informs
+	Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld
+	Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
+	The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates
+	Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder,
+	Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
+	Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace.
+	With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
+	Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
+	Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
+	Thy very stones prate of my whereabout,
+	And take the present horror from the time,
+	Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives:
+	Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
+
+	[A bell rings]
+
+	I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
+	Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
+	That summons thee to heaven or to hell.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same.
+
+
+	[Enter LADY MACBETH]
+
+LADY MACBETH	That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold;
+	What hath quench'd them hath given me fire.
+	Hark! Peace!
+	It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman,
+	Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it:
+	The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms
+	Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd
+	their possets,
+	That death and nature do contend about them,
+	Whether they live or die.
+
+MACBETH	[Within]  Who's there? what, ho!
+
+LADY MACBETH	Alack, I am afraid they have awaked,
+	And 'tis not done. The attempt and not the deed
+	Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready;
+	He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled
+	My father as he slept, I had done't.
+
+	[Enter MACBETH]
+
+		                  My husband!
+
+MACBETH	I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise?
+
+LADY MACBETH	I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry.
+	Did not you speak?
+
+MACBETH	                  When?
+
+LADY MACBETH	Now.
+
+MACBETH	As I descended?
+
+LADY MACBETH	Ay.
+
+MACBETH	Hark!
+	Who lies i' the second chamber?
+
+LADY MACBETH	Donalbain.
+
+MACBETH	This is a sorry sight.
+
+	[Looking on his hands]
+
+LADY MACBETH	A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.
+
+MACBETH	There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried
+	'Murder!'
+	That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them:
+	But they did say their prayers, and address'd them
+	Again to sleep.
+
+LADY MACBETH	                  There are two lodged together.
+
+MACBETH	One cried 'God bless us!' and 'Amen' the other;
+	As they had seen me with these hangman's hands.
+	Listening their fear, I could not say 'Amen,'
+	When they did say 'God bless us!'
+
+LADY MACBETH	Consider it not so deeply.
+
+MACBETH	But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'?
+	I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen'
+	Stuck in my throat.
+
+LADY MACBETH	These deeds must not be thought
+	After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
+
+MACBETH	Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more!
+	Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep,
+	Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care,
+	The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
+	Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
+	Chief nourisher in life's feast,--
+
+LADY MACBETH	What do you mean?
+
+MACBETH	Still it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house:
+	'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor
+	Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.'
+
+LADY MACBETH	Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane,
+	You do unbend your noble strength, to think
+	So brainsickly of things. Go get some water,
+	And wash this filthy witness from your hand.
+	Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
+	They must lie there: go carry them; and smear
+	The sleepy grooms with blood.
+
+MACBETH	I'll go no more:
+	I am afraid to think what I have done;
+	Look on't again I dare not.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Infirm of purpose!
+	Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead
+	Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood
+	That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
+	I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal;
+	For it must seem their guilt.
+
+	[Exit. Knocking within]
+
+MACBETH	Whence is that knocking?
+	How is't with me, when every noise appals me?
+	What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes.
+	Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
+	Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
+	The multitudinous seas in incarnadine,
+	Making the green one red.
+
+	[Re-enter LADY MACBETH]
+
+LADY MACBETH	My hands are of your colour; but I shame
+	To wear a heart so white.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+		    I hear a knocking
+	At the south entry: retire we to our chamber;
+	A little water clears us of this deed:
+	How easy is it, then! Your constancy
+	Hath left you unattended.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+		   Hark! more knocking.
+	Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us,
+	And show us to be watchers. Be not lost
+	So poorly in your thoughts.
+
+MACBETH	To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+	Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same.
+
+
+	[Knocking within. Enter a Porter]
+
+Porter	Here's a knocking indeed! If a
+	man were porter of hell-gate, he should have
+	old turning the key.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+		Knock,
+	knock, knock! Who's there, i' the name of
+	Beelzebub? Here's a farmer, that hanged
+	himself on the expectation of plenty: come in
+	time; have napkins enow about you; here
+	you'll sweat for't.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+	Knock,
+	knock! Who's there, in the other devil's
+	name? Faith, here's an equivocator, that could
+	swear in both the scales against either scale;
+	who committed treason enough for God's sake,
+	yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come
+	in, equivocator.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+	Knock,
+	knock, knock! Who's there? Faith, here's an
+	English tailor come hither, for stealing out of
+	a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may
+	roast your goose.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+	Knock,
+	knock; never at quiet! What are you? But
+	this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter
+	it no further: I had thought to have let in
+	some of all professions that go the primrose
+	way to the everlasting bonfire.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+	Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter.
+
+	[Opens the gate]
+
+	[Enter MACDUFF and LENNOX]
+
+MACDUFF	Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed,
+	That you do lie so late?
+
+Porter	'Faith sir, we were carousing till the
+	second cock: and drink, sir, is a great
+	provoker of three things.
+
+MACDUFF	What three things does drink especially provoke?
+
+Porter	Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and
+	urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes;
+	it provokes the desire, but it takes
+	away the performance: therefore, much drink
+	may be said to be an equivocator with lechery:
+	it makes him, and it mars him; it sets
+	him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him,
+	and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and
+	not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him
+	in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.
+
+MACDUFF	I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.
+
+Porter	That it did, sir, i' the very throat on
+	me: but I requited him for his lie; and, I
+	think, being too strong for him, though he took
+	up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast
+	him.
+
+MACDUFF	Is thy master stirring?
+
+	[Enter MACBETH]
+
+	Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes.
+
+LENNOX	Good morrow, noble sir.
+
+MACBETH	Good morrow, both.
+
+MACDUFF	Is the king stirring, worthy thane?
+
+MACBETH	Not yet.
+
+MACDUFF	He did command me to call timely on him:
+	I have almost slipp'd the hour.
+
+MACBETH	I'll bring you to him.
+
+MACDUFF	I know this is a joyful trouble to you;
+	But yet 'tis one.
+
+MACBETH	The labour we delight in physics pain.
+	This is the door.
+
+MACDUFF	                  I'll make so bold to call,
+	For 'tis my limited service.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LENNOX	Goes the king hence to-day?
+
+MACBETH	He does: he did appoint so.
+
+LENNOX	The night has been unruly: where we lay,
+	Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say,
+	Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death,
+	And prophesying with accents terrible
+	Of dire combustion and confused events
+	New hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird
+	Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth
+	Was feverous and did shake.
+
+MACBETH	'Twas a rough night.
+
+LENNOX	My young remembrance cannot parallel
+	A fellow to it.
+
+	[Re-enter MACDUFF]
+
+MACDUFF	O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart
+	Cannot conceive nor name thee!
+
+
+MACBETH	|
+	|	What's the matter.
+LENNOX	|
+
+
+MACDUFF	Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!
+	Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
+	The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
+	The life o' the building!
+
+MACBETH	What is 't you say? the life?
+
+LENNOX	Mean you his majesty?
+
+MACDUFF	Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
+	With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak;
+	See, and then speak yourselves.
+
+	[Exeunt MACBETH and LENNOX]
+
+		          Awake, awake!
+	Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason!
+	Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
+	Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
+	And look on death itself! up, up, and see
+	The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo!
+	As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites,
+	To countenance this horror! Ring the bell.
+
+	[Bell rings]
+
+	[Enter LADY MACBETH]
+
+LADY MACBETH	What's the business,
+	That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
+	The sleepers of the house? speak, speak!
+
+MACDUFF	O gentle lady,
+	'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
+	The repetition, in a woman's ear,
+	Would murder as it fell.
+
+	[Enter BANQUO]
+
+		   O Banquo, Banquo,
+	Our royal master 's murder'd!
+
+LADY MACBETH	Woe, alas!
+	What, in our house?
+
+BANQUO	Too cruel any where.
+	Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself,
+	And say it is not so.
+
+	[Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX, with ROSS]
+
+MACBETH	Had I but died an hour before this chance,
+	I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant,
+	There 's nothing serious in mortality:
+	All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;
+	The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
+	Is left this vault to brag of.
+
+	[Enter MALCOLM and DONALBAIN]
+
+DONALBAIN	What is amiss?
+
+MACBETH	                  You are, and do not know't:
+	The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
+	Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd.
+
+MACDUFF	Your royal father 's murder'd.
+
+MALCOLM	O, by whom?
+
+LENNOX	Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't:
+	Their hands and faces were an badged with blood;
+	So were their daggers, which unwiped we found
+	Upon their pillows:
+	They stared, and were distracted; no man's life
+	Was to be trusted with them.
+
+MACBETH	O, yet I do repent me of my fury,
+	That I did kill them.
+
+MACDUFF	Wherefore did you so?
+
+MACBETH	Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious,
+	Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:
+	The expedition my violent love
+	Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan,
+	His silver skin laced with his golden blood;
+	And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature
+	For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,
+	Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
+	Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain,
+	That had a heart to love, and in that heart
+	Courage to make 's love known?
+
+LADY MACBETH	Help me hence, ho!
+
+MACDUFF	Look to the lady.
+
+MALCOLM	[Aside to DONALBAIN]  Why do we hold our tongues,
+	That most may claim this argument for ours?
+
+DONALBAIN	[Aside to MALCOLM]  What should be spoken here,
+	where our fate,
+	Hid in an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us?
+	Let 's away;
+	Our tears are not yet brew'd.
+
+MALCOLM	[Aside to DONALBAIN]        Nor our strong sorrow
+	Upon the foot of motion.
+
+BANQUO	Look to the lady:
+
+	[LADY MACBETH is carried out]
+
+	And when we have our naked frailties hid,
+	That suffer in exposure, let us meet,
+	And question this most bloody piece of work,
+	To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us:
+	In the great hand of God I stand; and thence
+	Against the undivulged pretence I fight
+	Of treasonous malice.
+
+MACDUFF	And so do I.
+
+ALL	So all.
+
+MACBETH	Let's briefly put on manly readiness,
+	And meet i' the hall together.
+
+ALL	Well contented.
+
+	[Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain.
+
+MALCOLM	What will you do? Let's not consort with them:
+	To show an unfelt sorrow is an office
+	Which the false man does easy. I'll to England.
+
+DONALBAIN	To Ireland, I; our separated fortune
+	Shall keep us both the safer: where we are,
+	There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood,
+	The nearer bloody.
+
+MALCOLM	                  This murderous shaft that's shot
+	Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way
+	Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse;
+	And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
+	But shift away: there's warrant in that theft
+	Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Outside Macbeth's castle.
+
+
+	[Enter ROSS and an old Man]
+
+Old Man	Threescore and ten I can remember well:
+	Within the volume of which time I have seen
+	Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night
+	Hath trifled former knowings.
+
+ROSS	Ah, good father,
+	Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act,
+	Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day,
+	And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp:
+	Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame,
+	That darkness does the face of earth entomb,
+	When living light should kiss it?
+
+Old Man	'Tis unnatural,
+	Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
+	A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
+	Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.
+
+ROSS	And Duncan's horses--a thing most strange and certain--
+	Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race,
+	Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,
+	Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make
+	War with mankind.
+
+Old Man	'Tis said they eat each other.
+
+ROSS	They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes
+	That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff.
+
+	[Enter MACDUFF]
+
+	How goes the world, sir, now?
+
+MACDUFF	Why, see you not?
+
+ROSS	Is't known who did this more than bloody deed?
+
+MACDUFF	Those that Macbeth hath slain.
+
+ROSS	Alas, the day!
+	What good could they pretend?
+
+MACDUFF	They were suborn'd:
+	Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons,
+	Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them
+	Suspicion of the deed.
+
+ROSS	'Gainst nature still!
+	Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up
+	Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like
+	The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
+
+MACDUFF	He is already named, and gone to Scone
+	To be invested.
+
+ROSS	                  Where is Duncan's body?
+
+MACDUFF	Carried to Colmekill,
+	The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
+	And guardian of their bones.
+
+ROSS	Will you to Scone?
+
+MACDUFF	No, cousin, I'll to Fife.
+
+ROSS	Well, I will thither.
+
+MACDUFF	Well, may you see things well done there: adieu!
+	Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!
+
+ROSS	Farewell, father.
+
+Old Man	God's benison go with you; and with those
+	That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Forres. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter BANQUO]
+
+BANQUO	Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all,
+	As the weird women promised, and, I fear,
+	Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said
+	It should not stand in thy posterity,
+	But that myself should be the root and father
+	Of many kings. If there come truth from them--
+	As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine--
+	Why, by the verities on thee made good,
+	May they not be my oracles as well,
+	And set me up in hope? But hush! no more.
+
+	[Sennet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as king, LADY
+	MACBETH, as queen, LENNOX, ROSS, Lords, Ladies, and
+	Attendants]
+
+MACBETH	Here's our chief guest.
+
+LADY MACBETH	If he had been forgotten,
+	It had been as a gap in our great feast,
+	And all-thing unbecoming.
+
+MACBETH	To-night we hold a solemn supper sir,
+	And I'll request your presence.
+
+BANQUO	Let your highness
+	Command upon me; to the which my duties
+	Are with a most indissoluble tie
+	For ever knit.
+
+MACBETH	                  Ride you this afternoon?
+
+BANQUO	Ay, my good lord.
+
+MACBETH	We should have else desired your good advice,
+	Which still hath been both grave and prosperous,
+	In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow.
+	Is't far you ride?
+
+BANQUO	As far, my lord, as will fill up the time
+	'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better,
+	I must become a borrower of the night
+	For a dark hour or twain.
+
+MACBETH	Fail not our feast.
+
+BANQUO	My lord, I will not.
+
+MACBETH	We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd
+	In England and in Ireland, not confessing
+	Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers
+	With strange invention: but of that to-morrow,
+	When therewithal we shall have cause of state
+	Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu,
+	Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?
+
+BANQUO	Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon 's.
+
+MACBETH	I wish your horses swift and sure of foot;
+	And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell.
+
+	[Exit BANQUO]
+
+	Let every man be master of his time
+	Till seven at night: to make society
+	The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
+	Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you!
+
+	[Exeunt all but MACBETH, and an attendant]
+
+	Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men
+	Our pleasure?
+
+ATTENDANT	They are, my lord, without the palace gate.
+
+MACBETH	Bring them before us.
+
+	[Exit Attendant]
+
+		To be thus is nothing;
+	But to be safely thus.--Our fears in Banquo
+	Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature
+	Reigns that which would be fear'd: 'tis much he dares;
+	And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
+	He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
+	To act in safety. There is none but he
+	Whose being I do fear: and, under him,
+	My Genius is rebuked; as, it is said,
+	Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters
+	When first they put the name of king upon me,
+	And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like
+	They hail'd him father to a line of kings:
+	Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
+	And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
+	Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
+	No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so,
+	For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind;
+	For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd;
+	Put rancours in the vessel of my peace
+	Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
+	Given to the common enemy of man,
+	To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!
+	Rather than so, come fate into the list.
+	And champion me to the utterance! Who's there!
+
+	[Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers]
+
+	Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.
+
+	[Exit Attendant]
+
+	Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
+
+First Murderer	It was, so please your highness.
+
+MACBETH	Well then, now
+	Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know
+	That it was he in the times past which held you
+	So under fortune, which you thought had been
+	Our innocent self: this I made good to you
+	In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you,
+	How you were borne in hand, how cross'd,
+	the instruments,
+	Who wrought with them, and all things else that might
+	To half a soul and to a notion crazed
+	Say 'Thus did Banquo.'
+
+First Murderer	You made it known to us.
+
+MACBETH	I did so, and went further, which is now
+	Our point of second meeting. Do you find
+	Your patience so predominant in your nature
+	That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd
+	To pray for this good man and for his issue,
+	Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave
+	And beggar'd yours for ever?
+
+First Murderer	We are men, my liege.
+
+MACBETH	Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men;
+	As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,
+	Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept
+	All by the name of dogs: the valued file
+	Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
+	The housekeeper, the hunter, every one
+	According to the gift which bounteous nature
+	Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive
+	Particular addition. from the bill
+	That writes them all alike: and so of men.
+	Now, if you have a station in the file,
+	Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say 't;
+	And I will put that business in your bosoms,
+	Whose execution takes your enemy off,
+	Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
+	Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
+	Which in his death were perfect.
+
+Second Murderer	I am one, my liege,
+	Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
+	Have so incensed that I am reckless what
+	I do to spite the world.
+
+First Murderer	And I another
+	So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune,
+	That I would set my lie on any chance,
+	To mend it, or be rid on't.
+
+MACBETH	Both of you
+	Know Banquo was your enemy.
+
+Both Murderers	True, my lord.
+
+MACBETH	So is he mine; and in such bloody distance,
+	That every minute of his being thrusts
+	Against my near'st of life: and though I could
+	With barefaced power sweep him from my sight
+	And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not,
+	For certain friends that are both his and mine,
+	Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall
+	Who I myself struck down; and thence it is,
+	That I to your assistance do make love,
+	Masking the business from the common eye
+	For sundry weighty reasons.
+
+Second Murderer	We shall, my lord,
+	Perform what you command us.
+
+First Murderer	Though our lives--
+
+MACBETH	Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most
+	I will advise you where to plant yourselves;
+	Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time,
+	The moment on't; for't must be done to-night,
+	And something from the palace; always thought
+	That I require a clearness: and with him--
+	To leave no rubs nor botches in the work--
+	Fleance his son, that keeps him company,
+	Whose absence is no less material to me
+	Than is his father's, must embrace the fate
+	Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart:
+	I'll come to you anon.
+
+Both Murderers	We are resolved, my lord.
+
+MACBETH	I'll call upon you straight: abide within.
+
+	[Exeunt Murderers]
+
+	It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight,
+	If it find heaven, must find it out to-night.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant]
+
+LADY MACBETH	Is Banquo gone from court?
+
+Servant	Ay, madam, but returns again to-night.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Say to the king, I would attend his leisure
+	For a few words.
+
+Servant	                  Madam, I will.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LADY MACBETH	Nought's had, all's spent,
+	Where our desire is got without content:
+	'Tis safer to be that which we destroy
+	Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
+
+	[Enter MACBETH]
+
+	How now, my lord! why do you keep alone,
+	Of sorriest fancies your companions making,
+	Using those thoughts which should indeed have died
+	With them they think on? Things without all remedy
+	Should be without regard: what's done is done.
+
+MACBETH	We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it:
+	She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice
+	Remains in danger of her former tooth.
+	But let the frame of things disjoint, both the
+	worlds suffer,
+	Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep
+	In the affliction of these terrible dreams
+	That shake us nightly: better be with the dead,
+	Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace,
+	Than on the torture of the mind to lie
+	In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave;
+	After life's fitful fever he sleeps well;
+	Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
+	Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
+	Can touch him further.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Come on;
+	Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks;
+	Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night.
+
+MACBETH	So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you:
+	Let your remembrance apply to Banquo;
+	Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue:
+	Unsafe the while, that we
+	Must lave our honours in these flattering streams,
+	And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
+	Disguising what they are.
+
+LADY MACBETH	You must leave this.
+
+MACBETH	O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!
+	Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
+
+LADY MACBETH	But in them nature's copy's not eterne.
+
+MACBETH	There's comfort yet; they are assailable;
+	Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown
+	His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons
+	The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums
+	Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
+	A deed of dreadful note.
+
+LADY MACBETH	What's to be done?
+
+MACBETH	Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
+	Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night,
+	Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day;
+	And with thy bloody and invisible hand
+	Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond
+	Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow
+	Makes wing to the rooky wood:
+	Good things of day begin to droop and drowse;
+	While night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
+	Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still;
+	Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.
+	So, prithee, go with me.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A park near the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter three Murderers]
+
+First Murderer	But who did bid thee join with us?
+
+Third Murderer	Macbeth.
+
+Second Murderer	He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers
+	Our offices and what we have to do
+	To the direction just.
+
+First Murderer	Then stand with us.
+	The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day:
+	Now spurs the lated traveller apace
+	To gain the timely inn; and near approaches
+	The subject of our watch.
+
+Third Murderer	Hark! I hear horses.
+
+BANQUO	[Within]  Give us a light there, ho!
+
+Second Murderer	Then 'tis he: the rest
+	That are within the note of expectation
+	Already are i' the court.
+
+First Murderer	His horses go about.
+
+Third Murderer	Almost a mile: but he does usually,
+	So all men do, from hence to the palace gate
+	Make it their walk.
+
+Second Murderer	A light, a light!
+
+	[Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE with a torch]
+
+Third Murderer	'Tis he.
+
+First Murderer	Stand to't.
+
+BANQUO	It will be rain to-night.
+
+First Murderer	Let it come down.
+
+	[They set upon BANQUO]
+
+BANQUO	O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!
+	Thou mayst revenge. O slave!
+
+	[Dies. FLEANCE escapes]
+
+Third Murderer	Who did strike out the light?
+
+First Murderer	Wast not the way?
+
+Third Murderer	There's but one down; the son is fled.
+
+Second Murderer	We have lost
+	Best half of our affair.
+
+First Murderer	Well, let's away, and say how much is done.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The same. Hall in the palace.
+
+
+	[A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH,
+	ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants]
+
+MACBETH	You know your own degrees; sit down: at first
+	And last the hearty welcome.
+Lords	Thanks to your majesty.
+
+MACBETH	Ourself will mingle with society,
+	And play the humble host.
+	Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time
+	We will require her welcome.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends;
+	For my heart speaks they are welcome.
+
+	[First Murderer appears at the door]
+
+MACBETH	See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks.
+	Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst:
+	Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure
+	The table round.
+
+	[Approaching the door]
+
+	There's blood on thy face.
+
+First Murderer	'Tis Banquo's then.
+
+MACBETH	'Tis better thee without than he within.
+	Is he dispatch'd?
+
+First Murderer	My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him.
+
+MACBETH	Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good
+	That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,
+	Thou art the nonpareil.
+
+First Murderer	Most royal sir,
+	Fleance is 'scaped.
+
+MACBETH	Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect,
+	Whole as the marble, founded as the rock,
+	As broad and general as the casing air:
+	But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in
+	To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe?
+
+First Murderer	Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
+	With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
+	The least a death to nature.
+
+MACBETH	Thanks for that:
+	There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled
+	Hath nature that in time will venom breed,
+	No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow
+	We'll hear, ourselves, again.
+
+	[Exit Murderer]
+
+LADY MACBETH	My royal lord,
+	You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold
+	That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making,
+	'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home;
+	From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;
+	Meeting were bare without it.
+
+MACBETH	Sweet remembrancer!
+	Now, good digestion wait on appetite,
+	And health on both!
+
+LENNOX	May't please your highness sit.
+
+	[The GHOST OF BANQUO enters, and sits in
+	MACBETH's place]
+
+MACBETH	Here had we now our country's honour roof'd,
+	Were the graced person of our Banquo present;
+	Who may I rather challenge for unkindness
+	Than pity for mischance!
+
+ROSS	His absence, sir,
+	Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness
+	To grace us with your royal company.
+
+MACBETH	The table's full.
+
+LENNOX	                  Here is a place reserved, sir.
+
+MACBETH	Where?
+
+LENNOX	Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness?
+
+MACBETH	Which of you have done this?
+
+Lords	What, my good lord?
+
+MACBETH	Thou canst not say I did it: never shake
+	Thy gory locks at me.
+
+ROSS	Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often thus,
+	And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat;
+	The fit is momentary; upon a thought
+	He will again be well: if much you note him,
+	You shall offend him and extend his passion:
+	Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man?
+
+MACBETH	Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that
+	Which might appal the devil.
+
+LADY MACBETH	O proper stuff!
+	This is the very painting of your fear:
+	This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,
+	Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts,
+	Impostors to true fear, would well become
+	A woman's story at a winter's fire,
+	Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself!
+	Why do you make such faces? When all's done,
+	You look but on a stool.
+
+MACBETH	Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo!
+	how say you?
+	Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.
+	If charnel-houses and our graves must send
+	Those that we bury back, our monuments
+	Shall be the maws of kites.
+
+	[GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes]
+
+LADY MACBETH	What, quite unmann'd in folly?
+
+MACBETH	If I stand here, I saw him.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Fie, for shame!
+
+MACBETH	Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time,
+	Ere human statute purged the gentle weal;
+	Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
+	Too terrible for the ear: the times have been,
+	That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
+	And there an end; but now they rise again,
+	With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
+	And push us from our stools: this is more strange
+	Than such a murder is.
+
+LADY MACBETH	My worthy lord,
+	Your noble friends do lack you.
+
+MACBETH	I do forget.
+	Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends,
+	I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing
+	To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
+	Then I'll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full.
+	I drink to the general joy o' the whole table,
+	And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss;
+	Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
+	And all to all.
+
+Lords	                  Our duties, and the pledge.
+
+	[Re-enter GHOST OF BANQUO]
+
+MACBETH	Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee!
+	Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
+	Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
+	Which thou dost glare with!
+
+LADY MACBETH	Think of this, good peers,
+	But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other;
+	Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
+
+MACBETH	What man dare, I dare:
+	Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
+	The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger;
+	Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
+	Shall never tremble: or be alive again,
+	And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
+	If trembling I inhabit then, protest me
+	The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
+	Unreal mockery, hence!
+
+	[GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes]
+
+		 Why, so: being gone,
+	I am a man again. Pray you, sit still.
+
+LADY MACBETH	You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting,
+	With most admired disorder.
+
+MACBETH	Can such things be,
+	And overcome us like a summer's cloud,
+	Without our special wonder? You make me strange
+	Even to the disposition that I owe,
+	When now I think you can behold such sights,
+	And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,
+	When mine is blanched with fear.
+
+ROSS	What sights, my lord?
+
+LADY MACBETH	I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse;
+	Question enrages him. At once, good night:
+	Stand not upon the order of your going,
+	But go at once.
+
+LENNOX	                  Good night; and better health
+	Attend his majesty!
+
+LADY MACBETH	A kind good night to all!
+
+	[Exeunt all but MACBETH and LADY MACBETH]
+
+MACBETH	It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood:
+	Stones have been known to move and trees to speak;
+	Augurs and understood relations have
+	By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth
+	The secret'st man of blood. What is the night?
+
+LADY MACBETH	Almost at odds with morning, which is which.
+
+MACBETH	How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person
+	At our great bidding?
+
+LADY MACBETH	Did you send to him, sir?
+
+MACBETH	I hear it by the way; but I will send:
+	There's not a one of them but in his house
+	I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow,
+	And betimes I will, to the weird sisters:
+	More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
+	By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good,
+	All causes shall give way: I am in blood
+	Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more,
+	Returning were as tedious as go o'er:
+	Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
+	Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd.
+
+LADY MACBETH	You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
+
+MACBETH	Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse
+	Is the initiate fear that wants hard use:
+	We are yet but young in deed.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	A Heath.
+
+
+	[Thunder. Enter the three Witches meeting HECATE]
+
+First Witch	Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly.
+
+HECATE	Have I not reason, beldams as you are,
+	Saucy and overbold? How did you dare
+	To trade and traffic with Macbeth
+	In riddles and affairs of death;
+	And I, the mistress of your charms,
+	The close contriver of all harms,
+	Was never call'd to bear my part,
+	Or show the glory of our art?
+	And, which is worse, all you have done
+	Hath been but for a wayward son,
+	Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do,
+	Loves for his own ends, not for you.
+	But make amends now: get you gone,
+	And at the pit of Acheron
+	Meet me i' the morning: thither he
+	Will come to know his destiny:
+	Your vessels and your spells provide,
+	Your charms and every thing beside.
+	I am for the air; this night I'll spend
+	Unto a dismal and a fatal end:
+	Great business must be wrought ere noon:
+	Upon the corner of the moon
+	There hangs a vaporous drop profound;
+	I'll catch it ere it come to ground:
+	And that distill'd by magic sleights
+	Shall raise such artificial sprites
+	As by the strength of their illusion
+	Shall draw him on to his confusion:
+	He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
+	He hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear:
+	And you all know, security
+	Is mortals' chiefest enemy.
+
+	[Music and a song within: 'Come away, come
+	away,' &c]
+
+	Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see,
+	Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+First Witch	Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Forres. The palace.
+
+
+	[Enter LENNOX and another Lord]
+
+LENNOX	My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,
+	Which can interpret further: only, I say,
+	Things have been strangely borne. The
+	gracious Duncan
+	Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, he was dead:
+	And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late;
+	Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd,
+	For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late.
+	Who cannot want the thought how monstrous
+	It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain
+	To kill their gracious father? damned fact!
+	How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight
+	In pious rage the two delinquents tear,
+	That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep?
+	Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too;
+	For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive
+	To hear the men deny't. So that, I say,
+	He has borne all things well: and I do think
+	That had he Duncan's sons under his key--
+	As, an't please heaven, he shall not--they
+	should find
+	What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance.
+	But, peace! for from broad words and 'cause he fail'd
+	His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear
+	Macduff lives in disgrace: sir, can you tell
+	Where he bestows himself?
+
+Lord	The son of Duncan,
+	From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth
+	Lives in the English court, and is received
+	Of the most pious Edward with such grace
+	That the malevolence of fortune nothing
+	Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff
+	Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid
+	To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward:
+	That, by the help of these--with Him above
+	To ratify the work--we may again
+	Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights,
+	Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives,
+	Do faithful homage and receive free honours:
+	All which we pine for now: and this report
+	Hath so exasperate the king that he
+	Prepares for some attempt of war.
+
+LENNOX	Sent he to Macduff?
+
+Lord	He did: and with an absolute 'Sir, not I,'
+	The cloudy messenger turns me his back,
+	And hums, as who should say 'You'll rue the time
+	That clogs me with this answer.'
+
+LENNOX	And that well might
+	Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance
+	His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel
+	Fly to the court of England and unfold
+	His message ere he come, that a swift blessing
+	May soon return to this our suffering country
+	Under a hand accursed!
+
+Lord	I'll send my prayers with him.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron.
+
+
+	[Thunder. Enter the three Witches]
+
+
+First Witch	Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.
+
+Second Witch	Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.
+
+Third Witch	Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time.
+
+First Witch	Round about the cauldron go;
+	In the poison'd entrails throw.
+	Toad, that under cold stone
+	Days and nights has thirty-one
+	Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
+	Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.
+
+ALL	Double, double toil and trouble;
+	Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
+
+Second Witch	Fillet of a fenny snake,
+	In the cauldron boil and bake;
+	Eye of newt and toe of frog,
+	Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
+	Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
+	Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,
+	For a charm of powerful trouble,
+	Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
+
+ALL	Double, double toil and trouble;
+	Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
+
+Third Witch	Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
+	Witches' mummy, maw and gulf
+	Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
+	Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
+	Liver of blaspheming Jew,
+	Gall of goat, and slips of yew
+	Silver'd in the moon's eclipse,
+	Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips,
+	Finger of birth-strangled babe
+	Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
+	Make the gruel thick and slab:
+	Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
+	For the ingredients of our cauldron.
+
+ALL	Double, double toil and trouble;
+	Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
+
+Second Witch	Cool it with a baboon's blood,
+	Then the charm is firm and good.
+
+	[Enter HECATE to the other three Witches]
+
+HECATE	O well done! I commend your pains;
+	And every one shall share i' the gains;
+	And now about the cauldron sing,
+	Live elves and fairies in a ring,
+	Enchanting all that you put in.
+
+	[Music and a song: 'Black spirits,' &c]
+
+	[HECATE retires]
+
+Second Witch	By the pricking of my thumbs,
+	Something wicked this way comes.
+	Open, locks,
+	Whoever knocks!
+
+	[Enter MACBETH]
+
+MACBETH	How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags!
+	What is't you do?
+
+ALL	                  A deed without a name.
+
+MACBETH	I conjure you, by that which you profess,
+	Howe'er you come to know it, answer me:
+	Though you untie the winds and let them fight
+	Against the churches; though the yesty waves
+	Confound and swallow navigation up;
+	Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down;
+	Though castles topple on their warders' heads;
+	Though palaces and pyramids do slope
+	Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
+	Of nature's germens tumble all together,
+	Even till destruction sicken; answer me
+	To what I ask you.
+
+First Witch	                  Speak.
+
+Second Witch	Demand.
+
+Third Witch	We'll answer.
+
+First Witch	Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths,
+	Or from our masters?
+
+MACBETH	Call 'em; let me see 'em.
+
+First Witch	Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten
+	Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten
+	From the murderer's gibbet throw
+	Into the flame.
+
+ALL	                  Come, high or low;
+	Thyself and office deftly show!
+
+	[Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head]
+
+MACBETH	Tell me, thou unknown power,--
+
+First Witch	He knows thy thought:
+	Hear his speech, but say thou nought.
+
+First Apparition	Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff;
+	Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough.
+
+	[Descends]
+
+MACBETH	Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;
+	Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: but one
+	word more,--
+
+First Witch	He will not be commanded: here's another,
+	More potent than the first.
+
+	[Thunder. Second Apparition: A bloody Child]
+
+Second Apparition	Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!
+
+MACBETH	Had I three ears, I'ld hear thee.
+
+Second Apparition	Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn
+	The power of man, for none of woman born
+	Shall harm Macbeth.
+
+	[Descends]
+
+MACBETH	Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?
+	But yet I'll make assurance double sure,
+	And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live;
+	That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
+	And sleep in spite of thunder.
+
+	[Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned,
+	with a tree in his hand]
+
+		         What is this
+	That rises like the issue of a king,
+	And wears upon his baby-brow the round
+	And top of sovereignty?
+
+ALL	Listen, but speak not to't.
+
+Third Apparition	Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care
+	Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:
+	Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until
+	Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
+	Shall come against him.
+
+	[Descends]
+
+MACBETH	That will never be
+	Who can impress the forest, bid the tree
+	Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements! good!
+	Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood
+	Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth
+	Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
+	To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart
+	Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art
+	Can tell so much: shall Banquo's issue ever
+	Reign in this kingdom?
+
+ALL	Seek to know no more.
+
+MACBETH	I will be satisfied: deny me this,
+	And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know.
+	Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?
+
+	[Hautboys]
+
+First Witch	Show!
+
+Second Witch	Show!
+
+Third Witch	Show!
+
+ALL	Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
+	Come like shadows, so depart!
+
+	[A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in
+	his hand; GHOST OF BANQUO following]
+
+MACBETH	Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down!
+	Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls. And thy hair,
+	Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first.
+	A third is like the former. Filthy hags!
+	Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes!
+	What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?
+	Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more:
+	And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass
+	Which shows me many more; and some I see
+	That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry:
+	Horrible sight! Now, I see, 'tis true;
+	For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
+	And points at them for his.
+
+	[Apparitions vanish]
+
+		      What, is this so?
+
+First Witch	Ay, sir, all this is so: but why
+	Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?
+	Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,
+	And show the best of our delights:
+	I'll charm the air to give a sound,
+	While you perform your antic round:
+	That this great king may kindly say,
+	Our duties did his welcome pay.
+
+	[Music. The witches dance and then vanish,
+	with HECATE]
+
+MACBETH	Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour
+	Stand aye accursed in the calendar!
+	Come in, without there!
+
+	[Enter LENNOX]
+
+LENNOX	What's your grace's will?
+
+MACBETH	Saw you the weird sisters?
+
+LENNOX	No, my lord.
+
+MACBETH	Came they not by you?
+
+LENNOX	No, indeed, my lord.
+
+MACBETH	Infected be the air whereon they ride;
+	And damn'd all those that trust them! I did hear
+	The galloping of horse: who was't came by?
+
+LENNOX	'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word
+	Macduff is fled to England.
+
+MACBETH	Fled to England!
+
+LENNOX	Ay, my good lord.
+
+MACBETH	Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits:
+	The flighty purpose never is o'ertook
+	Unless the deed go with it; from this moment
+	The very firstlings of my heart shall be
+	The firstlings of my hand. And even now,
+	To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done:
+	The castle of Macduff I will surprise;
+	Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword
+	His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
+	That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;
+	This deed I'll do before this purpose cool.
+	But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen?
+	Come, bring me where they are.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Fife. Macduff's castle.
+
+
+	[Enter LADY MACDUFF, her Son, and ROSS]
+
+LADY MACDUFF	What had he done, to make him fly the land?
+
+ROSS	You must have patience, madam.
+
+LADY MACDUFF	He had none:
+	His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
+	Our fears do make us traitors.
+
+ROSS	You know not
+	Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes,
+	His mansion and his titles in a place
+	From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;
+	He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren,
+	The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
+	Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
+	All is the fear and nothing is the love;
+	As little is the wisdom, where the flight
+	So runs against all reason.
+
+ROSS	My dearest coz,
+	I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband,
+	He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows
+	The fits o' the season. I dare not speak
+	much further;
+	But cruel are the times, when we are traitors
+	And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour
+	From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
+	But float upon a wild and violent sea
+	Each way and move. I take my leave of you:
+	Shall not be long but I'll be here again:
+	Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward
+	To what they were before. My pretty cousin,
+	Blessing upon you!
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.
+
+ROSS	I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
+	It would be my disgrace and your discomfort:
+	I take my leave at once.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Sirrah, your father's dead;
+	And what will you do now? How will you live?
+
+Son	As birds do, mother.
+
+LADY MACDUFF	What, with worms and flies?
+
+Son	With what I get, I mean; and so do they.
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime,
+	The pitfall nor the gin.
+
+Son	Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
+	My father is not dead, for all your saying.
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father?
+
+Son	Nay, how will you do for a husband?
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
+
+Son	Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Thou speak'st with all thy wit: and yet, i' faith,
+	With wit enough for thee.
+
+Son	Was my father a traitor, mother?
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Ay, that he was.
+
+Son	What is a traitor?
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Why, one that swears and lies.
+
+Son	And be all traitors that do so?
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.
+
+Son	And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Every one.
+
+Son	Who must hang them?
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Why, the honest men.
+
+Son	Then the liars and swearers are fools,
+	for there are liars and swearers enow to beat
+	the honest men and hang up them.
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Now, God help thee, poor monkey!
+	But how wilt thou do for a father?
+
+Son	If he were dead, you'ld weep for
+	him: if you would not, it were a good sign
+	that I should quickly have a new father.
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
+	Though in your state of honour I am perfect.
+	I doubt some danger does approach you nearly:
+	If you will take a homely man's advice,
+	Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
+	To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;
+	To do worse to you were fell cruelty,
+	Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
+	I dare abide no longer.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LADY MACDUFF	Whither should I fly?
+	I have done no harm. But I remember now
+	I am in this earthly world; where to do harm
+	Is often laudable, to do good sometime
+	Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas,
+	Do I put up that womanly defence,
+	To say I have done no harm?
+
+	[Enter Murderers]
+
+		      What are these faces?
+
+First Murderer	Where is your husband?
+
+LADY MACDUFF	I hope, in no place so unsanctified
+	Where such as thou mayst find him.
+
+First Murderer	He's a traitor.
+
+Son	Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain!
+
+First Murderer	What, you egg!
+
+	[Stabbing him]
+
+	Young fry of treachery!
+
+Son	He has kill'd me, mother:
+	Run away, I pray you!
+
+	[Dies]
+
+	[Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt
+	Murderers, following her]
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	England. Before the King's palace.
+
+
+	[Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF]
+
+MALCOLM	Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there
+	Weep our sad bosoms empty.
+
+MACDUFF	Let us rather
+	Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men
+	Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: each new morn
+	New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows
+	Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
+	As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out
+	Like syllable of dolour.
+
+MALCOLM	What I believe I'll wail,
+	What know believe, and what I can redress,
+	As I shall find the time to friend, I will.
+	What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.
+	This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
+	Was once thought honest: you have loved him well.
+	He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young;
+	but something
+	You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom
+	To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb
+	To appease an angry god.
+
+MACDUFF	I am not treacherous.
+
+MALCOLM	But Macbeth is.
+	A good and virtuous nature may recoil
+	In an imperial charge. But I shall crave
+	your pardon;
+	That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose:
+	Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell;
+	Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
+	Yet grace must still look so.
+
+MACDUFF	I have lost my hopes.
+
+MALCOLM	Perchance even there where I did find my doubts.
+	Why in that rawness left you wife and child,
+	Those precious motives, those strong knots of love,
+	Without leave-taking? I pray you,
+	Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,
+	But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just,
+	Whatever I shall think.
+
+MACDUFF	Bleed, bleed, poor country!
+	Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure,
+	For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou
+	thy wrongs;
+	The title is affeer'd! Fare thee well, lord:
+	I would not be the villain that thou think'st
+	For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp,
+	And the rich East to boot.
+
+MALCOLM	Be not offended:
+	I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
+	I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
+	It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash
+	Is added to her wounds: I think withal
+	There would be hands uplifted in my right;
+	And here from gracious England have I offer
+	Of goodly thousands: but, for all this,
+	When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,
+	Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
+	Shall have more vices than it had before,
+	More suffer and more sundry ways than ever,
+	By him that shall succeed.
+
+MACDUFF	What should he be?
+
+MALCOLM	It is myself I mean: in whom I know
+	All the particulars of vice so grafted
+	That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
+	Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state
+	Esteem him as a lamb, being compared
+	With my confineless harms.
+
+MACDUFF	Not in the legions
+	Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd
+	In evils to top Macbeth.
+
+MALCOLM	I grant him bloody,
+	Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,
+	Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
+	That has a name: but there's no bottom, none,
+	In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters,
+	Your matrons and your maids, could not fill up
+	The cistern of my lust, and my desire
+	All continent impediments would o'erbear
+	That did oppose my will: better Macbeth
+	Than such an one to reign.
+
+MACDUFF	Boundless intemperance
+	In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
+	The untimely emptying of the happy throne
+	And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
+	To take upon you what is yours: you may
+	Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
+	And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.
+	We have willing dames enough: there cannot be
+	That vulture in you, to devour so many
+	As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
+	Finding it so inclined.
+
+MALCOLM	With this there grows
+	In my most ill-composed affection such
+	A stanchless avarice that, were I king,
+	I should cut off the nobles for their lands,
+	Desire his jewels and this other's house:
+	And my more-having would be as a sauce
+	To make me hunger more; that I should forge
+	Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
+	Destroying them for wealth.
+
+MACDUFF	This avarice
+	Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root
+	Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been
+	The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear;
+	Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will.
+	Of your mere own: all these are portable,
+	With other graces weigh'd.
+
+MALCOLM	But I have none: the king-becoming graces,
+	As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
+	Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
+	Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
+	I have no relish of them, but abound
+	In the division of each several crime,
+	Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
+	Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
+	Uproar the universal peace, confound
+	All unity on earth.
+
+MACDUFF	O Scotland, Scotland!
+
+MALCOLM	If such a one be fit to govern, speak:
+	I am as I have spoken.
+
+MACDUFF	Fit to govern!
+	No, not to live. O nation miserable,
+	With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,
+	When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
+	Since that the truest issue of thy throne
+	By his own interdiction stands accursed,
+	And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father
+	Was a most sainted king: the queen that bore thee,
+	Oftener upon her knees than on her feet,
+	Died every day she lived. Fare thee well!
+	These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself
+	Have banish'd me from Scotland. O my breast,
+	Thy hope ends here!
+
+MALCOLM	Macduff, this noble passion,
+	Child of integrity, hath from my soul
+	Wiped the black scruples, reconciled my thoughts
+	To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth
+	By many of these trains hath sought to win me
+	Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me
+	From over-credulous haste: but God above
+	Deal between thee and me! for even now
+	I put myself to thy direction, and
+	Unspeak mine own detraction, here abjure
+	The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
+	For strangers to my nature. I am yet
+	Unknown to woman, never was forsworn,
+	Scarcely have coveted what was mine own,
+	At no time broke my faith, would not betray
+	The devil to his fellow and delight
+	No less in truth than life: my first false speaking
+	Was this upon myself: what I am truly,
+	Is thine and my poor country's to command:
+	Whither indeed, before thy here-approach,
+	Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men,
+	Already at a point, was setting forth.
+	Now we'll together; and the chance of goodness
+	Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent?
+
+MACDUFF	Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
+	'Tis hard to reconcile.
+
+	[Enter a Doctor]
+
+MALCOLM	Well; more anon.--Comes the king forth, I pray you?
+
+Doctor	Ay, sir; there are a crew of wretched souls
+	That stay his cure: their malady convinces
+	The great assay of art; but at his touch--
+	Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand--
+	They presently amend.
+
+MALCOLM	I thank you, doctor.
+
+	[Exit Doctor]
+
+MACDUFF	What's the disease he means?
+
+MALCOLM	'Tis call'd the evil:
+	A most miraculous work in this good king;
+	Which often, since my here-remain in England,
+	I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,
+	Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people,
+	All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
+	The mere despair of surgery, he cures,
+	Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
+	Put on with holy prayers: and 'tis spoken,
+	To the succeeding royalty he leaves
+	The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,
+	He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy,
+	And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
+	That speak him full of grace.
+
+	[Enter ROSS]
+
+MACDUFF	See, who comes here?
+
+MALCOLM	My countryman; but yet I know him not.
+
+MACDUFF	My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.
+
+MALCOLM	I know him now. Good God, betimes remove
+	The means that makes us strangers!
+
+ROSS	Sir, amen.
+
+MACDUFF	Stands Scotland where it did?
+
+ROSS	Alas, poor country!
+	Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot
+	Be call'd our mother, but our grave; where nothing,
+	But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
+	Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend the air
+	Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
+	A modern ecstasy; the dead man's knell
+	Is there scarce ask'd for who; and good men's lives
+	Expire before the flowers in their caps,
+	Dying or ere they sicken.
+
+MACDUFF	O, relation
+	Too nice, and yet too true!
+
+MALCOLM	What's the newest grief?
+
+ROSS	That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker:
+	Each minute teems a new one.
+
+MACDUFF	How does my wife?
+
+ROSS	Why, well.
+
+MACDUFF	         And all my children?
+
+ROSS	Well too.
+
+MACDUFF	The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?
+
+ROSS	No; they were well at peace when I did leave 'em.
+
+MACDUFF	But not a niggard of your speech: how goes't?
+
+ROSS	When I came hither to transport the tidings,
+	Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
+	Of many worthy fellows that were out;
+	Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,
+	For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot:
+	Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
+	Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
+	To doff their dire distresses.
+
+MALCOLM	Be't their comfort
+	We are coming thither: gracious England hath
+	Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;
+	An older and a better soldier none
+	That Christendom gives out.
+
+ROSS	Would I could answer
+	This comfort with the like! But I have words
+	That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
+	Where hearing should not latch them.
+
+MACDUFF	What concern they?
+	The general cause? or is it a fee-grief
+	Due to some single breast?
+
+ROSS	No mind that's honest
+	But in it shares some woe; though the main part
+	Pertains to you alone.
+
+MACDUFF	If it be mine,
+	Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.
+
+ROSS	Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,
+	Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound
+	That ever yet they heard.
+
+MACDUFF	Hum! I guess at it.
+
+ROSS	Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes
+	Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner,
+	Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer,
+	To add the death of you.
+
+MALCOLM	Merciful heaven!
+	What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
+	Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
+	Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.
+
+MACDUFF	My children too?
+
+ROSS	                  Wife, children, servants, all
+	That could be found.
+
+MACDUFF	And I must be from thence!
+	My wife kill'd too?
+
+ROSS	I have said.
+
+MALCOLM	Be comforted:
+	Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
+	To cure this deadly grief.
+
+MACDUFF	He has no children. All my pretty ones?
+	Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?
+	What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
+	At one fell swoop?
+
+MALCOLM	Dispute it like a man.
+
+MACDUFF	I shall do so;
+	But I must also feel it as a man:
+	I cannot but remember such things were,
+	That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on,
+	And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
+	They were all struck for thee! naught that I am,
+	Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
+	Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now!
+
+MALCOLM	Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief
+	Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.
+
+MACDUFF	O, I could play the woman with mine eyes
+	And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle heavens,
+	Cut short all intermission; front to front
+	Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
+	Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
+	Heaven forgive him too!
+
+MALCOLM	This tune goes manly.
+	Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
+	Our lack is nothing but our leave; Macbeth
+	Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
+	Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may:
+	The night is long that never finds the day.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Dunsinane. Ante-room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman]
+
+Doctor	I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive
+	no truth in your report. When was it she last walked?
+
+Gentlewoman	Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen
+	her rise from her bed, throw her night-gown upon
+	her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it,
+	write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again
+	return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.
+
+Doctor	A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once
+	the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of
+	watching! In this slumbery agitation, besides her
+	walking and other actual performances, what, at any
+	time, have you heard her say?
+
+Gentlewoman	That, sir, which I will not report after her.
+
+Doctor	You may to me: and 'tis most meet you should.
+
+Gentlewoman	Neither to you nor any one; having no witness to
+	confirm my speech.
+
+	[Enter LADY MACBETH, with a taper]
+
+	Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise;
+	and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close.
+
+Doctor	How came she by that light?
+
+Gentlewoman	Why, it stood by her: she has light by her
+	continually; 'tis her command.
+
+Doctor	You see, her eyes are open.
+
+Gentlewoman	Ay, but their sense is shut.
+
+Doctor	What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.
+
+Gentlewoman	It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus
+	washing her hands: I have known her continue in
+	this a quarter of an hour.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Yet here's a spot.
+
+Doctor	Hark! she speaks: I will set down what comes from
+	her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Out, damned spot! out, I say!--One: two: why,
+	then, 'tis time to do't.--Hell is murky!--Fie, my
+	lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we
+	fear who knows it, when none can call our power to
+	account?--Yet who would have thought the old man
+	to have had so much blood in him.
+
+Doctor	Do you mark that?
+
+LADY MACBETH	The thane of Fife had a wife: where is she now?--
+	What, will these hands ne'er be clean?--No more o'
+	that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with
+	this starting.
+
+Doctor	Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.
+
+Gentlewoman	She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of
+	that: heaven knows what she has known.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Here's the smell of the blood still: all the
+	perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little
+	hand. Oh, oh, oh!
+
+Doctor	What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.
+
+Gentlewoman	I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the
+	dignity of the whole body.
+
+Doctor	Well, well, well,--
+
+Gentlewoman	Pray God it be, sir.
+
+Doctor	This disease is beyond my practise: yet I have known
+	those which have walked in their sleep who have died
+	holily in their beds.
+
+LADY MACBETH	Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so
+	pale.--I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he
+	cannot come out on's grave.
+
+Doctor	Even so?
+
+LADY MACBETH	To bed, to bed! there's knocking at the gate:
+	come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's
+	done cannot be undone.--To bed, to bed, to bed!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Doctor	Will she go now to bed?
+
+Gentlewoman	Directly.
+
+Doctor	Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural deeds
+	Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds
+	To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets:
+	More needs she the divine than the physician.
+	God, God forgive us all! Look after her;
+	Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
+	And still keep eyes upon her. So, good night:
+	My mind she has mated, and amazed my sight.
+	I think, but dare not speak.
+
+Gentlewoman	Good night, good doctor.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The country near Dunsinane.
+
+
+	[Drum and colours. Enter MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS,
+	LENNOX, and Soldiers]
+
+MENTEITH	The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
+	His uncle Siward and the good Macduff:
+	Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes
+	Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
+	Excite the mortified man.
+
+ANGUS	Near Birnam wood
+	Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
+
+CAITHNESS	Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?
+
+LENNOX	For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file
+	Of all the gentry: there is Siward's son,
+	And many unrough youths that even now
+	Protest their first of manhood.
+
+MENTEITH	What does the tyrant?
+
+CAITHNESS	Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies:
+	Some say he's mad; others that lesser hate him
+	Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
+	He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
+	Within the belt of rule.
+
+ANGUS	Now does he feel
+	His secret murders sticking on his hands;
+	Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
+	Those he commands move only in command,
+	Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
+	Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
+	Upon a dwarfish thief.
+
+MENTEITH	Who then shall blame
+	His pester'd senses to recoil and start,
+	When all that is within him does condemn
+	Itself for being there?
+
+CAITHNESS	Well, march we on,
+	To give obedience where 'tis truly owed:
+	Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal,
+	And with him pour we in our country's purge
+	Each drop of us.
+
+LENNOX	                  Or so much as it needs,
+	To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds.
+	Make we our march towards Birnam.
+
+	[Exeunt, marching]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Dunsinane. A room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants]
+
+MACBETH	Bring me no more reports; let them fly all:
+	Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane,
+	I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm?
+	Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
+	All mortal consequences have pronounced me thus:
+	'Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman
+	Shall e'er have power upon thee.' Then fly,
+	false thanes,
+	And mingle with the English epicures:
+	The mind I sway by and the heart I bear
+	Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear.
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+	The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!
+	Where got'st thou that goose look?
+
+Servant	There is ten thousand--
+
+MACBETH	Geese, villain!
+
+Servant	Soldiers, sir.
+
+MACBETH	Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
+	Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch?
+	Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
+	Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
+
+Servant	The English force, so please you.
+
+MACBETH	Take thy face hence.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+		Seyton!--I am sick at heart,
+	When I behold--Seyton, I say!--This push
+	Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
+	I have lived long enough: my way of life
+	Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf;
+	And that which should accompany old age,
+	As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
+	I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
+	Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
+	Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not. Seyton!
+
+	[Enter SEYTON]
+
+SEYTON	What is your gracious pleasure?
+
+MACBETH	What news more?
+
+SEYTON	All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.
+
+MACBETH	I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack'd.
+	Give me my armour.
+
+SEYTON	'Tis not needed yet.
+
+MACBETH	I'll put it on.
+	Send out more horses; skirr the country round;
+	Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour.
+	How does your patient, doctor?
+
+Doctor	Not so sick, my lord,
+	As she is troubled with thick coming fancies,
+	That keep her from her rest.
+
+MACBETH	Cure her of that.
+	Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
+	Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
+	Raze out the written troubles of the brain
+	And with some sweet oblivious antidote
+	Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff
+	Which weighs upon the heart?
+
+Doctor	Therein the patient
+	Must minister to himself.
+
+MACBETH	Throw physic to the dogs; I'll none of it.
+	Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff.
+	Seyton, send out. Doctor, the thanes fly from me.
+	Come, sir, dispatch. If thou couldst, doctor, cast
+	The water of my land, find her disease,
+	And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
+	I would applaud thee to the very echo,
+	That should applaud again.--Pull't off, I say.--
+	What rhubarb, cyme, or what purgative drug,
+	Would scour these English hence? Hear'st thou of them?
+
+Doctor	Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
+	Makes us hear something.
+
+MACBETH	Bring it after me.
+	I will not be afraid of death and bane,
+	Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.
+
+Doctor	[Aside]  Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
+	Profit again should hardly draw me here.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Country near Birnam wood.
+
+
+	[Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD and YOUNG
+	SIWARD, MACDUFF, MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS,
+	LENNOX, ROSS, and Soldiers, marching]
+
+MALCOLM	Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand
+	That chambers will be safe.
+
+MENTEITH	We doubt it nothing.
+
+SIWARD	What wood is this before us?
+
+MENTEITH	The wood of Birnam.
+
+MALCOLM	Let every soldier hew him down a bough
+	And bear't before him: thereby shall we shadow
+	The numbers of our host and make discovery
+	Err in report of us.
+
+Soldiers	It shall be done.
+
+SIWARD	We learn no other but the confident tyrant
+	Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
+	Our setting down before 't.
+
+MALCOLM	'Tis his main hope:
+	For where there is advantage to be given,
+	Both more and less have given him the revolt,
+	And none serve with him but constrained things
+	Whose hearts are absent too.
+
+MACDUFF	Let our just censures
+	Attend the true event, and put we on
+	Industrious soldiership.
+
+SIWARD	The time approaches
+	That will with due decision make us know
+	What we shall say we have and what we owe.
+	Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate,
+	But certain issue strokes must arbitrate:
+	Towards which advance the war.
+
+	[Exeunt, marching]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Dunsinane. Within the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers, with drum
+	and colours]
+
+MACBETH	Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
+	The cry is still 'They come:' our castle's strength
+	Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie
+	Till famine and the ague eat them up:
+	Were they not forced with those that should be ours,
+	We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
+	And beat them backward home.
+
+	[A cry of women within]
+
+		       What is that noise?
+
+SEYTON	It is the cry of women, my good lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MACBETH	I have almost forgot the taste of fears;
+	The time has been, my senses would have cool'd
+	To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair
+	Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir
+	As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors;
+	Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts
+	Cannot once start me.
+
+	[Re-enter SEYTON]
+
+		Wherefore was that cry?
+
+SEYTON	The queen, my lord, is dead.
+
+MACBETH	She should have died hereafter;
+	There would have been a time for such a word.
+	To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
+	Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
+	To the last syllable of recorded time,
+	And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
+	The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
+	Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
+	That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
+	And then is heard no more: it is a tale
+	Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
+	Signifying nothing.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+	Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.
+
+Messenger	Gracious my lord,
+	I should report that which I say I saw,
+	But know not how to do it.
+
+MACBETH	Well, say, sir.
+
+Messenger	As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
+	I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
+	The wood began to move.
+
+MACBETH	Liar and slave!
+
+Messenger	Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so:
+	Within this three mile may you see it coming;
+	I say, a moving grove.
+
+MACBETH	If thou speak'st false,
+	Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
+	Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth,
+	I care not if thou dost for me as much.
+	I pull in resolution, and begin
+	To doubt the equivocation of the fiend
+	That lies like truth: 'Fear not, till Birnam wood
+	Do come to Dunsinane:'  and now a wood
+	Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out!
+	If this which he avouches does appear,
+	There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.
+	I gin to be aweary of the sun,
+	And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.
+	Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack!
+	At least we'll die with harness on our back.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Dunsinane. Before the castle.
+
+
+	[Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD, MACDUFF,
+	and their Army, with boughs]
+
+MALCOLM	Now near enough: your leafy screens throw down.
+	And show like those you are. You, worthy uncle,
+	Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son,
+	Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff and we
+	Shall take upon 's what else remains to do,
+	According to our order.
+
+SIWARD	Fare you well.
+	Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,
+	Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.
+
+MACDUFF	Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,
+	Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE VII	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Alarums. Enter MACBETH]
+
+MACBETH	They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,
+	But, bear-like, I must fight the course. What's he
+	That was not born of woman? Such a one
+	Am I to fear, or none.
+
+	[Enter YOUNG SIWARD]
+
+YOUNG SIWARD	What is thy name?
+
+MACBETH	                  Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
+
+YOUNG SIWARD	No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
+	Than any is in hell.
+
+MACBETH	My name's Macbeth.
+
+YOUNG SIWARD	The devil himself could not pronounce a title
+	More hateful to mine ear.
+
+MACBETH	No, nor more fearful.
+
+YOUNG SIWARD	Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword
+	I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
+
+	[They fight and YOUNG SIWARD is slain]
+
+MACBETH	Thou wast born of woman
+	But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
+	Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Alarums. Enter MACDUFF]
+
+MACDUFF	That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face!
+	If thou be'st slain and with no stroke of mine,
+	My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.
+	I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms
+	Are hired to bear their staves: either thou, Macbeth,
+	Or else my sword with an unbatter'd edge
+	I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be;
+	By this great clatter, one of greatest note
+	Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune!
+	And more I beg not.
+
+	[Exit. Alarums]
+
+	[Enter MALCOLM and SIWARD]
+
+SIWARD	This way, my lord; the castle's gently render'd:
+	The tyrant's people on both sides do fight;
+	The noble thanes do bravely in the war;
+	The day almost itself professes yours,
+	And little is to do.
+
+MALCOLM	We have met with foes
+	That strike beside us.
+
+SIWARD	Enter, sir, the castle.
+
+	[Exeunt. Alarums]
+
+
+
+
+	MACBETH
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE VIII	Another part of the field.
+
+
+	[Enter MACBETH]
+
+MACBETH	Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
+	On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes
+	Do better upon them.
+
+	[Enter MACDUFF]
+
+MACDUFF	Turn, hell-hound, turn!
+
+MACBETH	Of all men else I have avoided thee:
+	But get thee back; my soul is too much charged
+	With blood of thine already.
+
+MACDUFF	I have no words:
+	My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain
+	Than terms can give thee out!
+
+	[They fight]
+
+MACBETH	Thou losest labour:
+	As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
+	With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed:
+	Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
+	I bear a charmed life, which must not yield,
+	To one of woman born.
+
+MACDUFF	Despair thy charm;
+	And let the angel whom thou still hast served
+	Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
+	Untimely ripp'd.
+
+MACBETH	Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
+	For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
+	And be these juggling fiends no more believed,
+	That palter with us in a double sense;
+	That keep the word of promise to our ear,
+	And break it to our hope. I'll not fight with thee.
+
+MACDUFF	Then yield thee, coward,
+	And live to be the show and gaze o' the time:
+	We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
+	Painted on a pole, and underwrit,
+	'Here may you see the tyrant.'
+
+MACBETH	I will not yield,
+	To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
+	And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
+	Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
+	And thou opposed, being of no woman born,
+	Yet I will try the last. Before my body
+	I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff,
+	And damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!'
+
+	[Exeunt, fighting. Alarums]
+
+	[Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours,
+	MALCOLM, SIWARD, ROSS, the other Thanes, and Soldiers]
+
+MALCOLM	I would the friends we miss were safe arrived.
+
+SIWARD	Some must go off: and yet, by these I see,
+	So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
+
+MALCOLM	Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
+
+ROSS	Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:
+	He only lived but till he was a man;
+	The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
+	In the unshrinking station where he fought,
+	But like a man he died.
+
+SIWARD	Then he is dead?
+
+ROSS	Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow
+	Must not be measured by his worth, for then
+	It hath no end.
+
+SIWARD	                  Had he his hurts before?
+
+ROSS	Ay, on the front.
+
+SIWARD	                  Why then, God's soldier be he!
+	Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
+	I would not wish them to a fairer death:
+	And so, his knell is knoll'd.
+
+MALCOLM	He's worth more sorrow,
+	And that I'll spend for him.
+
+SIWARD	He's worth no more
+	They say he parted well, and paid his score:
+	And so, God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.
+
+	[Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH's head]
+
+MACDUFF	Hail, king! for so thou art: behold, where stands
+	The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
+	I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,
+	That speak my salutation in their minds;
+	Whose voices I desire aloud with mine:
+	Hail, King of Scotland!
+
+ALL	Hail, King of Scotland!
+
+	[Flourish]
+
+MALCOLM	We shall not spend a large expense of time
+	Before we reckon with your several loves,
+	And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,
+	Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
+	In such an honour named. What's more to do,
+	Which would be planted newly with the time,
+	As calling home our exiled friends abroad
+	That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
+	Producing forth the cruel ministers
+	Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen,
+	Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
+	Took off her life; this, and what needful else
+	That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
+	We will perform in measure, time and place:
+	So, thanks to all at once and to each one,
+	Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+DUKE OF VENICE:
+
+BRABANTIO	a senator.
+
+	Other Senators.
+	(Senator:)
+	(First Senator:)
+	(Second Senator:)
+
+GRATIANO	brother to Brabantio.
+
+LODOVICO	kinsman to Brabantio.
+
+OTHELLO	a noble Moor in the service of the Venetian state.
+
+CASSIO	his lieutenant.
+
+IAGO	his ancient.
+
+RODERIGO	a Venetian gentleman.
+
+MONTANO	Othello's predecessor in the government of Cyprus.
+
+	Clown, servant to Othello. (Clown:)
+
+DESDEMONA	daughter to Brabantio and wife to Othello.
+
+EMILIA	wife to Iago.
+
+BIANCA	mistress to Cassio.
+
+	Sailor, Messenger, Herald, Officers, Gentlemen,
+	Musicians, and Attendants.
+	(Sailor:)
+	(First Officer:)
+	(Messenger:)
+	(Gentleman:)
+	(First Gentleman:)
+	(Second Gentleman:)
+	(Third Gentleman:)
+	(First Musician:)
+
+
+SCENE	Venice: a Sea-port in Cyprus.
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Venice. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter RODERIGO and IAGO]
+
+RODERIGO	Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly
+	That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse
+	As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.
+
+IAGO	'Sblood, but you will not hear me:
+	If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me.
+
+RODERIGO	Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate.
+
+IAGO	Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city,
+	In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,
+	Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man,
+	I know my price, I am worth no worse a place:
+	But he; as loving his own pride and purposes,
+	Evades them, with a bombast circumstance
+	Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war;
+	And, in conclusion,
+	Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes,' says he,
+	'I have already chose my officer.'
+	And what was he?
+	Forsooth, a great arithmetician,
+	One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,
+	A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife;
+	That never set a squadron in the field,
+	Nor the division of a battle knows
+	More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric,
+	Wherein the toged consuls can propose
+	As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practise,
+	Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election:
+	And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof
+	At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds
+	Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'd
+	By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster,
+	He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,
+	And I--God bless the mark!--his Moorship's ancient.
+
+RODERIGO	By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.
+
+IAGO	Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service,
+	Preferment goes by letter and affection,
+	And not by old gradation, where each second
+	Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself,
+	Whether I in any just term am affined
+	To love the Moor.
+
+RODERIGO	I would not follow him then.
+
+IAGO	O, sir, content you;
+	I follow him to serve my turn upon him:
+	We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
+	Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark
+	Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,
+	That, doting on his own obsequious bondage,
+	Wears out his time, much like his master's ass,
+	For nought but provender, and when he's old, cashier'd:
+	Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are
+	Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty,
+	Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves,
+	And, throwing but shows of service on their lords,
+	Do well thrive by them and when they have lined
+	their coats
+	Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul;
+	And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir,
+	It is as sure as you are Roderigo,
+	Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago:
+	In following him, I follow but myself;
+	Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
+	But seeming so, for my peculiar end:
+	For when my outward action doth demonstrate
+	The native act and figure of my heart
+	In compliment extern, 'tis not long after
+	But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
+	For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.
+
+RODERIGO	What a full fortune does the thicklips owe
+	If he can carry't thus!
+
+IAGO	Call up her father,
+	Rouse him: make after him, poison his delight,
+	Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen,
+	And, though he in a fertile climate dwell,
+	Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy,
+	Yet throw such changes of vexation on't,
+	As it may lose some colour.
+
+RODERIGO	Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud.
+
+IAGO	Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell
+	As when, by night and negligence, the fire
+	Is spied in populous cities.
+
+RODERIGO	What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho!
+
+IAGO	Awake! what, ho, Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves!
+	Look to your house, your daughter and your bags!
+	Thieves! thieves!
+
+	[BRABANTIO appears above, at a window]
+
+BRABANTIO	What is the reason of this terrible summons?
+	What is the matter there?
+
+RODERIGO	Signior, is all your family within?
+
+IAGO	Are your doors lock'd?
+
+BRABANTIO	Why, wherefore ask you this?
+
+IAGO	'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put on
+	your gown;
+	Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul;
+	Even now, now, very now, an old black ram
+	Is topping your white ewe. Arise, arise;
+	Awake the snorting citizens with the bell,
+	Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you:
+	Arise, I say.
+
+BRABANTIO	                  What, have you lost your wits?
+
+RODERIGO	Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?
+
+BRABANTIO	Not I	what are you?
+
+RODERIGO	My name is Roderigo.
+
+BRABANTIO	The worser welcome:
+	I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors:
+	In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
+	My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
+	Being full of supper and distempering draughts,
+	Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come
+	To start my quiet.
+
+RODERIGO	Sir, sir, sir,--
+
+BRABANTIO	                  But thou must needs be sure
+	My spirit and my place have in them power
+	To make this bitter to thee.
+
+RODERIGO	Patience, good sir.
+
+BRABANTIO	What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice;
+	My house is not a grange.
+
+RODERIGO	Most grave Brabantio,
+	In simple and pure soul I come to you.
+
+IAGO	'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not
+	serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to
+	do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'll
+	have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse;
+	you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have
+	coursers for cousins and gennets for germans.
+
+BRABANTIO	What profane wretch art thou?
+
+IAGO	I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter
+	and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.
+
+BRABANTIO	Thou art a villain.
+
+IAGO	You are--a senator.
+
+BRABANTIO	This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.
+
+RODERIGO	Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I beseech you,
+	If't be your pleasure and most wise consent,
+	As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter,
+	At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night,
+	Transported, with no worse nor better guard
+	But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier,
+	To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor--
+	If this be known to you and your allowance,
+	We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs;
+	But if you know not this, my manners tell me
+	We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe
+	That, from the sense of all civility,
+	I thus would play and trifle with your reverence:
+	Your daughter, if you have not given her leave,
+	I say again, hath made a gross revolt;
+	Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes
+	In an extravagant and wheeling stranger
+	Of here and every where. Straight satisfy yourself:
+	If she be in her chamber or your house,
+	Let loose on me the justice of the state
+	For thus deluding you.
+
+BRABANTIO	Strike on the tinder, ho!
+	Give me a taper! call up all my people!
+	This accident is not unlike my dream:
+	Belief of it oppresses me already.
+	Light, I say! light!
+
+	[Exit above]
+
+IAGO	Farewell; for I must leave you:
+	It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place,
+	To be produced--as, if I stay, I shall--
+	Against the Moor: for, I do know, the state,
+	However this may gall him with some cheque,
+	Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embark'd
+	With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars,
+	Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls,
+	Another of his fathom they have none,
+	To lead their business: in which regard,
+	Though I do hate him as I do hell-pains.
+	Yet, for necessity of present life,
+	I must show out a flag and sign of love,
+	Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him,
+	Lead to the Sagittary the raised search;
+	And there will I be with him. So, farewell.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants with torches]
+
+BRABANTIO	It is too true an evil: gone she is;
+	And what's to come of my despised time
+	Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo,
+	Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl!
+	With the Moor, say'st thou? Who would be a father!
+	How didst thou know 'twas she? O she deceives me
+	Past thought! What said she to you? Get more tapers:
+	Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you?
+
+RODERIGO	Truly, I think they are.
+
+BRABANTIO	O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood!
+	Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds
+	By what you see them act. Is there not charms
+	By which the property of youth and maidhood
+	May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,
+	Of some such thing?
+
+RODERIGO	Yes, sir, I have indeed.
+
+BRABANTIO	Call up my brother. O, would you had had her!
+	Some one way, some another. Do you know
+	Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?
+
+RODERIGO	I think I can discover him, if you please,
+	To get good guard and go along with me.
+
+BRABANTIO	Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call;
+	I may command at most. Get weapons, ho!
+	And raise some special officers of night.
+	On, good Roderigo: I'll deserve your pains.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Another street.
+
+
+	[Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants with torches]
+
+IAGO	Though in the trade of war I have slain men,
+	Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience
+	To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity
+	Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times
+	I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs.
+
+OTHELLO	'Tis better as it is.
+
+IAGO	Nay, but he prated,
+
+	And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms
+	Against your honour
+	That, with the little godliness I have,
+	I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray you, sir,
+	Are you fast married? Be assured of this,
+	That the magnifico is much beloved,
+	And hath in his effect a voice potential
+	As double as the duke's: he will divorce you;
+	Or put upon you what restraint and grievance
+	The law, with all his might to enforce it on,
+	Will give him cable.
+
+OTHELLO	Let him do his spite:
+	My services which I have done the signiory
+	Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know,--
+	Which, when I know that boasting is an honour,
+	I shall promulgate--I fetch my life and being
+	From men of royal siege, and my demerits
+	May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune
+	As this that I have reach'd: for know, Iago,
+	But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
+	I would not my unhoused free condition
+	Put into circumscription and confine
+	For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yond?
+
+IAGO	Those are the raised father and his friends:
+	You were best go in.
+
+OTHELLO	Not I	I must be found:
+	My parts, my title and my perfect soul
+	Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they?
+
+IAGO	By Janus, I think no.
+
+	[Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches]
+
+OTHELLO	The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant.
+	The goodness of the night upon you, friends!
+	What is the news?
+
+CASSIO	                  The duke does greet you, general,
+	And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance,
+	Even on the instant.
+
+OTHELLO	What is the matter, think you?
+
+CASSIO	Something from Cyprus as I may divine:
+	It is a business of some heat: the galleys
+	Have sent a dozen sequent messengers
+	This very night at one another's heels,
+	And many of the consuls, raised and met,
+	Are at the duke's already: you have been
+	hotly call'd for;
+	When, being not at your lodging to be found,
+	The senate hath sent about three several guests
+	To search you out.
+
+OTHELLO	'Tis well I am found by you.
+	I will but spend a word here in the house,
+	And go with you.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CASSIO	                  Ancient, what makes he here?
+
+IAGO	'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack:
+	If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.
+
+CASSIO	I do not understand.
+
+IAGO	He's married.
+
+CASSIO	To who?
+
+	[Re-enter OTHELLO]
+
+IAGO	Marry, to--Come, captain, will you go?
+
+OTHELLO	Have with you.
+
+CASSIO	Here comes another troop to seek for you.
+
+IAGO	It is Brabantio. General, be advised;
+	He comes to bad intent.
+
+	[Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers with
+	torches and weapons]
+
+OTHELLO	Holla! stand there!
+
+RODERIGO	Signior, it is the Moor.
+
+BRABANTIO	Down with him, thief!
+
+	[They draw on both sides]
+
+IAGO	You, Roderigo! come, sir, I am for you.
+
+OTHELLO	Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
+	Good signior, you shall more command with years
+	Than with your weapons.
+
+BRABANTIO	O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my daughter?
+	Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her;
+	For I'll refer me to all things of sense,
+	If she in chains of magic were not bound,
+	Whether a maid so tender, fair and happy,
+	So opposite to marriage that she shunned
+	The wealthy curled darlings of our nation,
+	Would ever have, to incur a general mock,
+	Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom
+	Of such a thing as thou, to fear, not to delight.
+	Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense
+	That thou hast practised on her with foul charms,
+	Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals
+	That weaken motion: I'll have't disputed on;
+	'Tis probable and palpable to thinking.
+	I therefore apprehend and do attach thee
+	For an abuser of the world, a practiser
+	Of arts inhibited and out of warrant.
+	Lay hold upon him: if he do resist,
+	Subdue him at his peril.
+
+OTHELLO	Hold your hands,
+	Both you of my inclining, and the rest:
+	Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it
+	Without a prompter. Where will you that I go
+	To answer this your charge?
+
+BRABANTIO	To prison, till fit time
+	Of law and course of direct session
+	Call thee to answer.
+
+OTHELLO	What if I do obey?
+	How may the duke be therewith satisfied,
+	Whose messengers are here about my side,
+	Upon some present business of the state
+	To bring me to him?
+
+First Officer	'Tis true, most worthy signior;
+	The duke's in council and your noble self,
+	I am sure, is sent for.
+
+BRABANTIO	How! the duke in council!
+	In this time of the night! Bring him away:
+	Mine's not an idle cause: the duke himself,
+	Or any of my brothers of the state,
+	Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own;
+	For if such actions may have passage free,
+	Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A council-chamber.
+
+
+	[The DUKE and Senators sitting at a table; Officers
+	attending]
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	There is no composition in these news
+	That gives them credit.
+
+First Senator	Indeed, they are disproportion'd;
+	My letters say a hundred and seven galleys.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	And mine, a hundred and forty.
+
+Second Senator	And mine, two hundred:
+	But though they jump not on a just account,--
+	As in these cases, where the aim reports,
+	'Tis oft with difference--yet do they all confirm
+	A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	Nay, it is possible enough to judgment:
+	I do not so secure me in the error,
+	But the main article I do approve
+	In fearful sense.
+
+Sailor	[Within]  What, ho! what, ho! what, ho!
+
+First Officer	A messenger from the galleys.
+
+	[Enter a Sailor]
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	Now, what's the business?
+
+Sailor	The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes;
+	So was I bid report here to the state
+	By Signior Angelo.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	How say you by this change?
+
+First Senator	This cannot be,
+	By no assay of reason: 'tis a pageant,
+	To keep us in false gaze. When we consider
+	The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk,
+	And let ourselves again but understand,
+	That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes,
+	So may he with more facile question bear it,
+	For that it stands not in such warlike brace,
+	But altogether lacks the abilities
+	That Rhodes is dress'd in: if we make thought of this,
+	We must not think the Turk is so unskilful
+	To leave that latest which concerns him first,
+	Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain,
+	To wake and wage a danger profitless.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes.
+
+First Officer	Here is more news.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger]
+
+Messenger	The Ottomites, reverend and gracious,
+	Steering with due course towards the isle of Rhodes,
+	Have there injointed them with an after fleet.
+
+First Senator	Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess?
+
+Messenger	Of thirty sail: and now they do restem
+	Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance
+	Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano,
+	Your trusty and most valiant servitor,
+	With his free duty recommends you thus,
+	And prays you to believe him.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus.
+	Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town?
+
+First Senator	He's now in Florence.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	Write from us to him; post-post-haste dispatch.
+
+First Senator	Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor.
+
+	[Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Officers]
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you
+	Against the general enemy Ottoman.
+
+	[To BRABANTIO]
+
+	I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior;
+	We lack'd your counsel and your help tonight.
+
+BRABANTIO	So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me;
+	Neither my place nor aught I heard of business
+	Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general care
+	Take hold on me, for my particular grief
+	Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature
+	That it engluts and swallows other sorrows
+	And it is still itself.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	Why, what's the matter?
+
+BRABANTIO	My daughter! O, my daughter!
+
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	|	Dead?
+Senator	|
+
+
+BRABANTIO	Ay, to me;
+	She is abused, stol'n from me, and corrupted
+	By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks;
+	For nature so preposterously to err,
+	Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,
+	Sans witchcraft could not.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceeding
+	Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself
+	And you of her, the bloody book of law
+	You shall yourself read in the bitter letter
+	After your own sense, yea, though our proper son
+	Stood in your action.
+
+BRABANTIO	Humbly I thank your grace.
+	Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it seems,
+	Your special mandate for the state-affairs
+	Hath hither brought.
+
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	|
+	|                 We are very sorry for't.
+Senator	|
+
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	[To OTHELLO]  What, in your own part, can you say to this?
+
+BRABANTIO	Nothing, but this is so.
+
+OTHELLO	Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
+	My very noble and approved good masters,
+	That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter,
+	It is most true; true, I have married her:
+	The very head and front of my offending
+	Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech,
+	And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace:
+	For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
+	Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used
+	Their dearest action in the tented field,
+	And little of this great world can I speak,
+	More than pertains to feats of broil and battle,
+	And therefore little shall I grace my cause
+	In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,
+	I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver
+	Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms,
+	What conjuration and what mighty magic,
+	For such proceeding I am charged withal,
+	I won his daughter.
+
+BRABANTIO	A maiden never bold;
+	Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion
+	Blush'd at herself; and she, in spite of nature,
+	Of years, of country, credit, every thing,
+	To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on!
+	It is a judgment maim'd and most imperfect
+	That will confess perfection so could err
+	Against all rules of nature, and must be driven
+	To find out practises of cunning hell,
+	Why this should be. I therefore vouch again
+	That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood,
+	Or with some dram conjured to this effect,
+	He wrought upon her.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	To vouch this, is no proof,
+	Without more wider and more overt test
+	Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods
+	Of modern seeming do prefer against him.
+
+First Senator	But, Othello, speak:
+	Did you by indirect and forced courses
+	Subdue and poison this young maid's affections?
+	Or came it by request and such fair question
+	As soul to soul affordeth?
+
+OTHELLO	I do beseech you,
+	Send for the lady to the Sagittary,
+	And let her speak of me before her father:
+	If you do find me foul in her report,
+	The trust, the office I do hold of you,
+	Not only take away, but let your sentence
+	Even fall upon my life.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	Fetch Desdemona hither.
+
+OTHELLO	Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place.
+
+	[Exeunt IAGO and Attendants]
+
+	And, till she come, as truly as to heaven
+	I do confess the vices of my blood,
+	So justly to your grave ears I'll present
+	How I did thrive in this fair lady's love,
+	And she in mine.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	Say it, Othello.
+
+OTHELLO	Her father loved me; oft invited me;
+	Still question'd me the story of my life,
+	From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes,
+	That I have passed.
+	I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
+	To the very moment that he bade me tell it;
+	Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
+	Of moving accidents by flood and field
+	Of hair-breadth scapes i' the imminent deadly breach,
+	Of being taken by the insolent foe
+	And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence
+	And portance in my travels' history:
+	Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle,
+	Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven
+	It was my hint to speak,--such was the process;
+	And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
+	The Anthropophagi and men whose heads
+	Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear
+	Would Desdemona seriously incline:
+	But still the house-affairs would draw her thence:
+	Which ever as she could with haste dispatch,
+	She'ld come again, and with a greedy ear
+	Devour up my discourse: which I observing,
+	Took once a pliant hour, and found good means
+	To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart
+	That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
+	Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
+	But not intentively: I did consent,
+	And often did beguile her of her tears,
+	When I did speak of some distressful stroke
+	That my youth suffer'd. My story being done,
+	She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:
+	She swore, in faith, twas strange, 'twas passing strange,
+	'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful:
+	She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd
+	That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me,
+	And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her,
+	I should but teach him how to tell my story.
+	And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake:
+	She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd,
+	And I loved her that she did pity them.
+	This only is the witchcraft I have used:
+	Here comes the lady; let her witness it.
+
+	[Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, and Attendants]
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	I think this tale would win my daughter too.
+	Good Brabantio,
+	Take up this mangled matter at the best:
+	Men do their broken weapons rather use
+	Than their bare hands.
+
+BRABANTIO	I pray you, hear her speak:
+	If she confess that she was half the wooer,
+	Destruction on my head, if my bad blame
+	Light on the man! Come hither, gentle mistress:
+	Do you perceive in all this noble company
+	Where most you owe obedience?
+
+DESDEMONA	My noble father,
+	I do perceive here a divided duty:
+	To you I am bound for life and education;
+	My life and education both do learn me
+	How to respect you; you are the lord of duty;
+	I am hitherto your daughter: but here's my husband,
+	And so much duty as my mother show'd
+	To you, preferring you before her father,
+	So much I challenge that I may profess
+	Due to the Moor my lord.
+
+BRABANTIO	God be wi' you! I have done.
+	Please it your grace, on to the state-affairs:
+	I had rather to adopt a child than get it.
+	Come hither, Moor:
+	I here do give thee that with all my heart
+	Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart
+	I would keep from thee. For your sake, jewel,
+	I am glad at soul I have no other child:
+	For thy escape would teach me tyranny,
+	To hang clogs on them. I have done, my lord.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence,
+	Which, as a grise or step, may help these lovers
+	Into your favour.
+	When remedies are past, the griefs are ended
+	By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
+	To mourn a mischief that is past and gone
+	Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
+	What cannot be preserved when fortune takes
+	Patience her injury a mockery makes.
+	The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief;
+	He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
+
+BRABANTIO	So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile;
+	We lose it not, so long as we can smile.
+	He bears the sentence well that nothing bears
+	But the free comfort which from thence he hears,
+	But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow
+	That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow.
+	These sentences, to sugar, or to gall,
+	Being strong on both sides, are equivocal:
+	But words are words; I never yet did hear
+	That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear.
+	I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for
+	Cyprus. Othello, the fortitude of the place is best
+	known to you; and though we have there a substitute
+	of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a
+	sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safer
+	voice on you: you must therefore be content to
+	slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with this
+	more stubborn and boisterous expedition.
+
+OTHELLO	The tyrant custom, most grave senators,
+	Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war
+	My thrice-driven bed of down: I do agnise
+	A natural and prompt alacrity
+	I find in hardness, and do undertake
+	These present wars against the Ottomites.
+	Most humbly therefore bending to your state,
+	I crave fit disposition for my wife.
+	Due reference of place and exhibition,
+	With such accommodation and besort
+	As levels with her breeding.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	If you please,
+	Be't at her father's.
+
+BRABANTIO	I'll not have it so.
+
+OTHELLO	Nor I.
+
+DESDEMONA	     Nor I; I would not there reside,
+	To put my father in impatient thoughts
+	By being in his eye. Most gracious duke,
+	To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear;
+	And let me find a charter in your voice,
+	To assist my simpleness.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	What would You, Desdemona?
+
+DESDEMONA	That I did love the Moor to live with him,
+	My downright violence and storm of fortunes
+	May trumpet to the world: my heart's subdued
+	Even to the very quality of my lord:
+	I saw Othello's visage in his mind,
+	And to his honour and his valiant parts
+	Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate.
+	So that, dear lords, if I be left behind,
+	A moth of peace, and he go to the war,
+	The rites for which I love him are bereft me,
+	And I a heavy interim shall support
+	By his dear absence. Let me go with him.
+
+OTHELLO	Let her have your voices.
+	Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not,
+	To please the palate of my appetite,
+	Nor to comply with heat--the young affects
+	In me defunct--and proper satisfaction.
+	But to be free and bounteous to her mind:
+	And heaven defend your good souls, that you think
+	I will your serious and great business scant
+	For she is with me: no, when light-wing'd toys
+	Of feather'd Cupid seal with wanton dullness
+	My speculative and officed instruments,
+	That my disports corrupt and taint my business,
+	Let housewives make a skillet of my helm,
+	And all indign and base adversities
+	Make head against my estimation!
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	Be it as you shall privately determine,
+	Either for her stay or going: the affair cries haste,
+	And speed must answer it.
+
+First Senator	You must away to-night.
+
+OTHELLO	With all my heart.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	At nine i' the morning here we'll meet again.
+	Othello, leave some officer behind,
+	And he shall our commission bring to you;
+	With such things else of quality and respect
+	As doth import you.
+
+OTHELLO	So please your grace, my ancient;
+	A man he is of honest and trust:
+	To his conveyance I assign my wife,
+	With what else needful your good grace shall think
+	To be sent after me.
+
+DUKE OF VENICE	Let it be so.
+	Good night to every one.
+
+	[To BRABANTIO]
+
+		   And, noble signior,
+	If virtue no delighted beauty lack,
+	Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.
+
+First Senator	Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona well.
+
+BRABANTIO	Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see:
+	She has deceived her father, and may thee.
+
+	[Exeunt DUKE OF VENICE, Senators, Officers, &c]
+
+OTHELLO	My life upon her faith! Honest Iago,
+	My Desdemona must I leave to thee:
+	I prithee, let thy wife attend on her:
+	And bring them after in the best advantage.
+
+	Come, Desdemona: I have but an hour
+	Of love, of worldly matters and direction,
+	To spend with thee: we must obey the time.
+
+	[Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA]
+
+RODERIGO	Iago,--
+
+IAGO	What say'st thou, noble heart?
+
+RODERIGO	What will I do, thinkest thou?
+
+IAGO	Why, go to bed, and sleep.
+
+RODERIGO	I will incontinently drown myself.
+
+IAGO	If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why,
+	thou silly gentleman!
+
+RODERIGO	It is silliness to live when to live is torment; and
+	then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician.
+
+IAGO	O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four
+	times seven years; and since I could distinguish
+	betwixt a benefit and an injury, I never found man
+	that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say, I
+	would drown myself for the love of a guinea-hen, I
+	would change my humanity with a baboon.
+
+RODERIGO	What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so
+	fond; but it is not in my virtue to amend it.
+
+IAGO	Virtue! a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus
+	or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which
+	our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant
+	nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up
+	thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs, or
+	distract it with many, either to have it sterile
+	with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the
+	power and corrigible authority of this lies in our
+	wills. If the balance of our lives had not one
+	scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the
+	blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us
+	to most preposterous conclusions: but we have
+	reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal
+	stings, our unbitted lusts, whereof I take this that
+	you call love to be a sect or scion.
+
+RODERIGO	It cannot be.
+
+IAGO	It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of
+	the will. Come, be a man. Drown thyself! drown
+	cats and blind puppies. I have professed me thy
+	friend and I confess me knit to thy deserving with
+	cables of perdurable toughness; I could never
+	better stead thee than now. Put money in thy
+	purse; follow thou the wars; defeat thy favour with
+	an usurped beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It
+	cannot be that Desdemona should long continue her
+	love to the Moor,-- put money in thy purse,--nor he
+	his to her: it was a violent commencement, and thou
+	shalt see an answerable sequestration:--put but
+	money in thy purse. These Moors are changeable in
+	their wills: fill thy purse with money:--the food
+	that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be
+	to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. She must
+	change for youth: when she is sated with his body,
+	she will find the error of her choice: she must
+	have change, she must: therefore put money in thy
+	purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a
+	more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money
+	thou canst: if sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt
+	an erring barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian not
+	too hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou
+	shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of
+	drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way: seek
+	thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy than
+	to be drowned and go without her.
+
+RODERIGO	Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on
+	the issue?
+
+IAGO	Thou art sure of me:--go, make money:--I have told
+	thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I
+	hate the Moor: my cause is hearted; thine hath no
+	less reason. Let us be conjunctive in our revenge
+	against him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost
+	thyself a pleasure, me a sport. There are many
+	events in the womb of time which will be delivered.
+	Traverse! go, provide thy money. We will have more
+	of this to-morrow. Adieu.
+
+RODERIGO	Where shall we meet i' the morning?
+
+IAGO	At my lodging.
+
+RODERIGO	I'll be with thee betimes.
+
+IAGO	Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo?
+
+RODERIGO	What say you?
+
+IAGO	No more of drowning, do you hear?
+
+RODERIGO	I am changed: I'll go sell all my land.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+IAGO	Thus do I ever make my fool my purse:
+	For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane,
+	If I would time expend with such a snipe.
+	But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor:
+	And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets
+	He has done my office: I know not if't be true;
+	But I, for mere suspicion in that kind,
+	Will do as if for surety. He holds me well;
+	The better shall my purpose work on him.
+	Cassio's a proper man: let me see now:
+	To get his place and to plume up my will
+	In double knavery--How, how? Let's see:--
+	After some time, to abuse Othello's ear
+	That he is too familiar with his wife.
+	He hath a person and a smooth dispose
+	To be suspected, framed to make women false.
+	The Moor is of a free and open nature,
+	That thinks men honest that but seem to be so,
+	And will as tenderly be led by the nose
+	As asses are.
+	I have't. It is engender'd. Hell and night
+	Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A Sea-port in Cyprus. An open place near the quay.
+
+
+	[Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen]
+
+MONTANO	What from the cape can you discern at sea?
+
+First Gentleman	Nothing at all: it is a highwrought flood;
+	I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main,
+	Descry a sail.
+
+MONTANO	Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land;
+	A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements:
+	If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea,
+	What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,
+	Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this?
+
+Second Gentleman	A segregation of the Turkish fleet:
+
+	For do but stand upon the foaming shore,
+	The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds;
+	The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane,
+	seems to cast water on the burning bear,
+	And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole:
+	I never did like molestation view
+	On the enchafed flood.
+
+MONTANO	If that the Turkish fleet
+	Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd:
+	It is impossible they bear it out.
+
+	[Enter a third Gentleman]
+
+Third Gentleman	News, lads! our wars are done.
+	The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks,
+	That their designment halts: a noble ship of Venice
+	Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance
+	On most part of their fleet.
+
+MONTANO	How! is this true?
+
+Third Gentleman	The ship is here put in,
+	A Veronesa; Michael Cassio,
+	Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello,
+	Is come on shore: the Moor himself at sea,
+	And is in full commission here for Cyprus.
+
+MONTANO	I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor.
+
+Third Gentleman	But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort
+	Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly,
+	And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted
+	With foul and violent tempest.
+
+MONTANO	Pray heavens he be;
+	For I have served him, and the man commands
+	Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside, ho!
+	As well to see the vessel that's come in
+	As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,
+	Even till we make the main and the aerial blue
+	An indistinct regard.
+
+Third Gentleman	Come, let's do so:
+	For every minute is expectancy
+	Of more arrivance.
+
+	[Enter CASSIO]
+
+CASSIO	Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle,
+	That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens
+	Give him defence against the elements,
+	For I have lost us him on a dangerous sea.
+
+MONTANO	Is he well shipp'd?
+
+CASSIO	His bark is stoutly timber'd, his pilot
+	Of very expert and approved allowance;
+	Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death,
+	Stand in bold cure.
+
+	[A cry within 'A sail, a sail, a sail!']
+
+	[Enter a fourth Gentleman]
+
+CASSIO	What noise?
+
+Fourth Gentleman	The town is empty; on the brow o' the sea
+	Stand ranks of people, and they cry 'A sail!'
+
+CASSIO	My hopes do shape him for the governor.
+
+	[Guns heard]
+
+Second Gentlemen	They do discharge their shot of courtesy:
+	Our friends at least.
+
+CASSIO	I pray you, sir, go forth,
+	And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived.
+
+Second Gentleman	I shall.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MONTANO	But, good lieutenant, is your general wived?
+
+CASSIO	Most fortunately: he hath achieved a maid
+	That paragons description and wild fame;
+	One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens,
+	And in the essential vesture of creation
+	Does tire the ingener.
+
+	[Re-enter second Gentleman]
+
+	How now! who has put in?
+
+Second Gentleman	'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general.
+
+CASSIO	Has had most favourable and happy speed:
+	Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,
+	The gutter'd rocks and congregated sands--
+	Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,--
+	As having sense of beauty, do omit
+	Their mortal natures, letting go safely by
+	The divine Desdemona.
+
+MONTANO	What is she?
+
+CASSIO	She that I spake of, our great captain's captain,
+	Left in the conduct of the bold Iago,
+	Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts
+	A se'nnight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard,
+	And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath,
+	That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,
+	Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms,
+	Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits
+	And bring all Cyprus comfort!
+
+	[Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO, and
+	Attendants]
+
+		        O, behold,
+	The riches of the ship is come on shore!
+	Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.
+	Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven,
+	Before, behind thee, and on every hand,
+	Enwheel thee round!
+
+DESDEMONA	I thank you, valiant Cassio.
+	What tidings can you tell me of my lord?
+
+CASSIO	He is not yet arrived: nor know I aught
+	But that he's well and will be shortly here.
+
+DESDEMONA	O, but I fear--How lost you company?
+
+CASSIO	The great contention of the sea and skies
+	Parted our fellowship--But, hark! a sail.
+
+	[Within 'A sail, a sail!' Guns heard]
+
+Second Gentleman	They give their greeting to the citadel;
+	This likewise is a friend.
+
+CASSIO	See for the news.
+
+	[Exit Gentleman]
+
+	Good ancient, you are welcome.
+
+	[To EMILIA]
+
+		         Welcome, mistress.
+	Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,
+	That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding
+	That gives me this bold show of courtesy.
+
+	[Kissing her]
+
+IAGO	Sir, would she give you so much of her lips
+	As of her tongue she oft bestows on me,
+	You'll have enough.
+
+DESDEMONA	Alas, she has no speech.
+
+IAGO	In faith, too much;
+	I find it still, when I have list to sleep:
+	Marry, before your ladyship, I grant,
+	She puts her tongue a little in her heart,
+	And chides with thinking.
+
+EMILIA	You have little cause to say so.
+
+IAGO	Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors,
+	Bells in your parlors, wild-cats in your kitchens,
+	Saints m your injuries, devils being offended,
+	Players in your housewifery, and housewives' in your beds.
+
+DESDEMONA	O, fie upon thee, slanderer!
+
+IAGO	Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk:
+	You rise to play and go to bed to work.
+
+EMILIA	You shall not write my praise.
+
+IAGO	No, let me not.
+
+DESDEMONA	What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst
+	praise me?
+
+IAGO	O gentle lady, do not put me to't;
+	For I am nothing, if not critical.
+
+DESDEMONA	Come on assay. There's one gone to the harbour?
+
+IAGO	Ay, madam.
+
+DESDEMONA	I am not merry; but I do beguile
+	The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.
+	Come, how wouldst thou praise me?
+
+IAGO	I am about it; but indeed my invention
+	Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frize;
+	It plucks out brains and all: but my Muse labours,
+	And thus she is deliver'd.
+	If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit,
+	The one's for use, the other useth it.
+
+DESDEMONA	Well praised! How if she be black and witty?
+
+IAGO	If she be black, and thereto have a wit,
+	She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit.
+
+DESDEMONA	Worse and worse.
+
+EMILIA	How if fair and foolish?
+
+IAGO	She never yet was foolish that was fair;
+	For even her folly help'd her to an heir.
+
+DESDEMONA	These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i'
+	the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for
+	her that's foul and foolish?
+
+IAGO	There's none so foul and foolish thereunto,
+	But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do.
+
+DESDEMONA	O heavy ignorance! thou praisest the worst best.
+	But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving
+	woman indeed, one that, in the authority of her
+	merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself?
+
+IAGO	She that was ever fair and never proud,
+	Had tongue at will and yet was never loud,
+	Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay,
+	Fled from her wish and yet said 'Now I may,'
+	She that being anger'd, her revenge being nigh,
+	Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly,
+	She that in wisdom never was so frail
+	To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail;
+	She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind,
+	See suitors following and not look behind,
+	She was a wight, if ever such wight were,--
+
+DESDEMONA	To do what?
+
+IAGO	To suckle fools and chronicle small beer.
+
+DESDEMONA	O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learn
+	of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. How say
+	you, Cassio? is he not a most profane and liberal
+	counsellor?
+
+CASSIO	He speaks home, madam: You may relish him more in
+	the soldier than in the scholar.
+
+IAGO	[Aside]  He takes her by the palm: ay, well said,
+	whisper: with as little a web as this will I
+	ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon
+	her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship.
+	You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks as
+	these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had
+	been better you had not kissed your three fingers so
+	oft, which now again you are most apt to play the
+	sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent
+	courtesy! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers
+	to your lips? would they were clyster-pipes for your sake!
+
+	[Trumpet within]
+
+	The Moor! I know his trumpet.
+
+CASSIO	'Tis truly so.
+
+DESDEMONA	Let's meet him and receive him.
+
+CASSIO	Lo, where he comes!
+
+	[Enter OTHELLO and Attendants]
+
+OTHELLO	O my fair warrior!
+
+DESDEMONA	                  My dear Othello!
+
+OTHELLO	It gives me wonder great as my content
+	To see you here before me. O my soul's joy!
+	If after every tempest come such calms,
+	May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!
+	And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas
+	Olympus-high and duck again as low
+	As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die,
+	'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear,
+	My soul hath her content so absolute
+	That not another comfort like to this
+	Succeeds in unknown fate.
+
+DESDEMONA	The heavens forbid
+	But that our loves and comforts should increase,
+	Even as our days do grow!
+
+OTHELLO	Amen to that, sweet powers!
+	I cannot speak enough of this content;
+	It stops me here; it is too much of joy:
+	And this, and this, the greatest discords be
+
+	[Kissing her]
+
+	That e'er our hearts shall make!
+
+IAGO	[Aside]  O, you are well tuned now!
+	But I'll set down the pegs that make this music,
+	As honest as I am.
+
+OTHELLO	                  Come, let us to the castle.
+	News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks
+	are drown'd.
+	How does my old acquaintance of this isle?
+	Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus;
+	I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet,
+	I prattle out of fashion, and I dote
+	In mine own comforts. I prithee, good Iago,
+	Go to the bay and disembark my coffers:
+	Bring thou the master to the citadel;
+	He is a good one, and his worthiness
+	Does challenge much respect. Come, Desdemona,
+	Once more, well met at Cyprus.
+
+	[Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants]
+
+IAGO	Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come
+	hither. If thou be'st valiant,-- as, they say, base
+	men being in love have then a nobility in their
+	natures more than is native to them--list me. The
+	lieutenant tonight watches on the court of
+	guard:--first, I must tell thee this--Desdemona is
+	directly in love with him.
+
+
+RODERIGO	With him! why, 'tis not possible.
+
+IAGO	Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed.
+	Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor,
+	but for bragging and telling her fantastical lies:
+	and will she love him still for prating? let not
+	thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed;
+	and what delight shall she have to look on the
+	devil? When the blood is made dull with the act of
+	sport, there should be, again to inflame it and to
+	give satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favour,
+	sympathy in years, manners and beauties; all which
+	the Moor is defective in: now, for want of these
+	required conveniences, her delicate tenderness will
+	find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge,
+	disrelish and abhor the Moor; very nature will
+	instruct her in it and compel her to some second
+	choice. Now, sir, this granted,--as it is a most
+	pregnant and unforced position--who stands so
+	eminent in the degree of this fortune as Cassio
+	does? a knave very voluble; no further
+	conscionable than in putting on the mere form of
+	civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing
+	of his salt and most hidden loose affection? why,
+	none; why, none: a slipper and subtle knave, a
+	finder of occasions, that has an eye can stamp and
+	counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never
+	present itself; a devilish knave. Besides, the
+	knave is handsome, young, and hath all those
+	requisites in him that folly and green minds look
+	after: a pestilent complete knave; and the woman
+	hath found him already.
+
+RODERIGO	I cannot believe that in her; she's full of
+	most blessed condition.
+
+IAGO	Blessed fig's-end! the wine she drinks is made of
+	grapes: if she had been blessed, she would never
+	have loved the Moor. Blessed pudding! Didst thou
+	not see her paddle with the palm of his hand? didst
+	not mark that?
+
+RODERIGO	Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy.
+
+IAGO	Lechery, by this hand; an index and obscure prologue
+	to the history of lust and foul thoughts. They met
+	so near with their lips that their breaths embraced
+	together. Villanous thoughts, Roderigo! when these
+	mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes
+	the master and main exercise, the incorporate
+	conclusion, Pish! But, sir, be you ruled by me: I
+	have brought you from Venice. Watch you to-night;
+	for the command, I'll lay't upon you. Cassio knows
+	you not. I'll not be far from you: do you find
+	some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking
+	too loud, or tainting his discipline; or from what
+	other course you please, which the time shall more
+	favourably minister.
+
+RODERIGO	Well.
+
+IAGO	Sir, he is rash and very sudden in choler, and haply
+	may strike at you: provoke him, that he may; for
+	even out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to
+	mutiny; whose qualification shall come into no true
+	taste again but by the displanting of Cassio. So
+	shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by
+	the means I shall then have to prefer them; and the
+	impediment most profitably removed, without the
+	which there were no expectation of our prosperity.
+
+RODERIGO	I will do this, if I can bring it to any
+	opportunity.
+
+IAGO	I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel:
+	I must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell.
+
+RODERIGO	Adieu.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+IAGO	That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it;
+	That she loves him, 'tis apt and of great credit:
+	The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not,
+	Is of a constant, loving, noble nature,
+	And I dare think he'll prove to Desdemona
+	A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too;
+	Not out of absolute lust, though peradventure
+	I stand accountant for as great a sin,
+	But partly led to diet my revenge,
+	For that I do suspect the lusty Moor
+	Hath leap'd into my seat; the thought whereof
+	Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards;
+	And nothing can or shall content my soul
+	Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife,
+	Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor
+	At least into a jealousy so strong
+	That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do,
+	If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash
+	For his quick hunting, stand the putting on,
+	I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip,
+	Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb--
+	For I fear Cassio with my night-cap too--
+	Make the Moor thank me, love me and reward me.
+	For making him egregiously an ass
+	And practising upon his peace and quiet
+	Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confused:
+	Knavery's plain face is never seen tin used.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A street.
+
+
+	[Enter a Herald with a proclamation; People
+	following]
+
+Herald	It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant
+	general, that, upon certain tidings now arrived,
+	importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet,
+	every man put himself into triumph; some to dance,
+	some to make bonfires, each man to what sport and
+	revels his addiction leads him: for, besides these
+	beneficial news, it is the celebration of his
+	nuptial. So much was his pleasure should be
+	proclaimed. All offices are open, and there is full
+	liberty of feasting from this present hour of five
+	till the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the
+	isle of Cyprus and our noble general Othello!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A hall in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and Attendants]
+
+OTHELLO	Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night:
+	Let's teach ourselves that honourable stop,
+	Not to outsport discretion.
+
+CASSIO	Iago hath direction what to do;
+	But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye
+	Will I look to't.
+
+OTHELLO	                  Iago is most honest.
+	Michael, good night: to-morrow with your earliest
+	Let me have speech with you.
+
+	[To DESDEMONA]
+
+		       Come, my dear love,
+	The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue;
+	That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you.
+	Good night.
+
+	[Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants]
+
+	[Enter IAGO]
+
+CASSIO	Welcome, Iago; we must to the watch.
+
+IAGO	Not this hour, lieutenant; 'tis not yet ten o' the
+	clock. Our general cast us thus early for the love
+	of his Desdemona; who let us not therefore blame:
+	he hath not yet made wanton the night with her; and
+	she is sport for Jove.
+
+CASSIO	She's a most exquisite lady.
+
+IAGO	And, I'll warrant her, fun of game.
+
+CASSIO	Indeed, she's a most fresh and delicate creature.
+
+IAGO	What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley of
+	provocation.
+
+CASSIO	An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest.
+
+IAGO	And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love?
+
+CASSIO	She is indeed perfection.
+
+IAGO	Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I
+	have a stoup of wine; and here without are a brace
+	of Cyprus gallants that would fain have a measure to
+	the health of black Othello.
+
+CASSIO	Not to-night, good Iago: I have very poor and
+	unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish
+	courtesy would invent some other custom of
+	entertainment.
+
+IAGO	O, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll drink for
+	you.
+
+CASSIO	I have drunk but one cup to-night, and that was
+	craftily qualified too, and, behold, what innovation
+	it makes here: I am unfortunate in the infirmity,
+	and dare not task my weakness with any more.
+
+IAGO	What, man! 'tis a night of revels: the gallants
+	desire it.
+
+CASSIO	Where are they?
+
+IAGO	Here at the door; I pray you, call them in.
+
+CASSIO	I'll do't; but it dislikes me.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+IAGO	If I can fasten but one cup upon him,
+	With that which he hath drunk to-night already,
+	He'll be as full of quarrel and offence
+	As my young mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool Roderigo,
+	Whom love hath turn'd almost the wrong side out,
+	To Desdemona hath to-night caroused
+	Potations pottle-deep; and he's to watch:
+	Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits,
+	That hold their honours in a wary distance,
+	The very elements of this warlike isle,
+	Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups,
+	And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards,
+	Am I to put our Cassio in some action
+	That may offend the isle.--But here they come:
+	If consequence do but approve my dream,
+	My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.
+
+	[Re-enter CASSIO; with him MONTANO and Gentlemen;
+	servants following with wine]
+
+CASSIO	'Fore God, they have given me a rouse already.
+
+MONTANO	Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am
+	a soldier.
+
+IAGO	Some wine, ho!
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	And let me the canakin clink, clink;
+	And let me the canakin clink
+	A soldier's a man;
+	A life's but a span;
+	Why, then, let a soldier drink.
+	Some wine, boys!
+
+CASSIO	'Fore God, an excellent song.
+
+IAGO	I learned it in England, where, indeed, they are
+	most potent in potting: your Dane, your German, and
+	your swag-bellied Hollander--Drink, ho!--are nothing
+	to your English.
+
+CASSIO	Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking?
+
+IAGO	Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane dead
+	drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he
+	gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next pottle
+	can be filled.
+
+CASSIO	To the health of our general!
+
+MONTANO	I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice.
+
+IAGO	O sweet England!
+	King Stephen was a worthy peer,
+	His breeches cost him but a crown;
+	He held them sixpence all too dear,
+	With that he call'd the tailor lown.
+	He was a wight of high renown,
+	And thou art but of low degree:
+	'Tis pride that pulls the country down;
+	Then take thine auld cloak about thee.
+	Some wine, ho!
+
+CASSIO	Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other.
+
+IAGO	Will you hear't again?
+
+CASSIO	No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that
+	does those things. Well, God's above all; and there
+	be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved.
+
+IAGO	It's true, good lieutenant.
+
+CASSIO	For mine own part,--no offence to the general, nor
+	any man of quality,--I hope to be saved.
+
+IAGO	And so do I too, lieutenant.
+
+CASSIO	Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the
+	lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. Let's
+	have no more of this; let's to our affairs.--Forgive
+	us our sins!--Gentlemen, let's look to our business.
+	Do not think, gentlemen. I am drunk: this is my
+	ancient; this is my right hand, and this is my left:
+	I am not drunk now; I can stand well enough, and
+	speak well enough.
+
+All	Excellent well.
+
+CASSIO	Why, very well then; you must not think then that I am drunk.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MONTANO	To the platform, masters; come, let's set the watch.
+
+IAGO	You see this fellow that is gone before;
+	He is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar
+	And give direction: and do but see his vice;
+	'Tis to his virtue a just equinox,
+	The one as long as the other: 'tis pity of him.
+	I fear the trust Othello puts him in.
+	On some odd time of his infirmity,
+	Will shake this island.
+
+MONTANO	But is he often thus?
+
+IAGO	'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep:
+	He'll watch the horologe a double set,
+	If drink rock not his cradle.
+
+MONTANO	It were well
+	The general were put in mind of it.
+	Perhaps he sees it not; or his good nature
+	Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio,
+	And looks not on his evils: is not this true?
+
+	[Enter RODERIGO]
+
+IAGO	[Aside to him]  How now, Roderigo!
+	I pray you, after the lieutenant; go.
+
+	[Exit RODERIGO]
+
+MONTANO	And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor
+	Should hazard such a place as his own second
+	With one of an ingraft infirmity:
+	It were an honest action to say
+	So to the Moor.
+
+IAGO	                  Not I, for this fair island:
+	I do love Cassio well; and would do much
+	To cure him of this evil--But, hark! what noise?
+
+	[Cry within: 'Help! help!']
+
+	[Re-enter CASSIO, driving in RODERIGO]
+
+CASSIO	You rogue! you rascal!
+
+MONTANO	What's the matter, lieutenant?
+
+CASSIO	A knave teach me my duty!
+	I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle.
+
+RODERIGO	Beat me!
+
+CASSIO	       Dost thou prate, rogue?
+
+	[Striking RODERIGO]
+
+MONTANO	Nay, good lieutenant;
+
+	[Staying him]
+
+	I pray you, sir, hold your hand.
+
+CASSIO	Let me go, sir,
+	Or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard.
+
+MONTANO	Come, come,
+		                  you're drunk.
+
+CASSIO	Drunk!
+
+	[They fight]
+
+IAGO	[Aside to RODERIGO]  Away, I say; go out, and cry a mutiny.
+
+	[Exit RODERIGO]
+
+	Nay, good lieutenant,--alas, gentlemen;--
+	Help, ho!--Lieutenant,--sir,--Montano,--sir;
+	Help, masters!--Here's a goodly watch indeed!
+
+	[Bell rings]
+
+	Who's that which rings the bell?--Diablo, ho!
+	The town will rise: God's will, lieutenant, hold!
+	You will be shamed for ever.
+
+	[Re-enter OTHELLO and Attendants]
+
+OTHELLO	What is the matter here?
+
+MONTANO	'Zounds, I bleed still; I am hurt to the death.
+
+	[Faints]
+
+OTHELLO	Hold, for your lives!
+
+IAGO	Hold, ho! Lieutenant,--sir--Montano,--gentlemen,--
+	Have you forgot all sense of place and duty?
+	Hold! the general speaks to you; hold, hold, for shame!
+
+OTHELLO	Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this?
+	Are we turn'd Turks, and to ourselves do that
+	Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?
+	For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl:
+	He that stirs next to carve for his own rage
+	Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion.
+	Silence that dreadful bell: it frights the isle
+	From her propriety. What is the matter, masters?
+	Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving,
+	Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee.
+
+IAGO	I do not know: friends all but now, even now,
+	In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom
+	Devesting them for bed; and then, but now--
+	As if some planet had unwitted men--
+	Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast,
+	In opposition bloody. I cannot speak
+	Any beginning to this peevish odds;
+	And would in action glorious I had lost
+	Those legs that brought me to a part of it!
+
+OTHELLO	How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot?
+
+CASSIO	I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak.
+
+OTHELLO	Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil;
+	The gravity and stillness of your youth
+	The world hath noted, and your name is great
+	In mouths of wisest censure: what's the matter,
+	That you unlace your reputation thus
+	And spend your rich opinion for the name
+	Of a night-brawler? give me answer to it.
+
+MONTANO	Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger:
+	Your officer, Iago, can inform you,--
+	While I spare speech, which something now
+	offends me,--
+	Of all that I do know: nor know I aught
+	By me that's said or done amiss this night;
+	Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice,
+	And to defend ourselves it be a sin
+	When violence assails us.
+
+OTHELLO	Now, by heaven,
+	My blood begins my safer guides to rule;
+	And passion, having my best judgment collied,
+	Assays to lead the way: if I once stir,
+	Or do but lift this arm, the best of you
+	Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know
+	How this foul rout began, who set it on;
+	And he that is approved in this offence,
+	Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth,
+	Shall lose me. What! in a town of war,
+	Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear,
+	To manage private and domestic quarrel,
+	In night, and on the court and guard of safety!
+	'Tis monstrous. Iago, who began't?
+
+MONTANO	If partially affined, or leagued in office,
+	Thou dost deliver more or less than truth,
+	Thou art no soldier.
+
+IAGO	Touch me not so near:
+	I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth
+	Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio;
+	Yet, I persuade myself, to speak the truth
+	Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general.
+	Montano and myself being in speech,
+	There comes a fellow crying out for help:
+	And Cassio following him with determined sword,
+	To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman
+	Steps in to Cassio, and entreats his pause:
+	Myself the crying fellow did pursue,
+	Lest by his clamour--as it so fell out--
+	The town might fall in fright: he, swift of foot,
+	Outran my purpose; and I return'd the rather
+	For that I heard the clink and fall of swords,
+	And Cassio high in oath; which till to-night
+	I ne'er might say before. When I came back--
+	For this was brief--I found them close together,
+	At blow and thrust; even as again they were
+	When you yourself did part them.
+	More of this matter cannot I report:
+	But men are men; the best sometimes forget:
+	Though Cassio did some little wrong to him,
+	As men in rage strike those that wish them best,
+	Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received
+	From him that fled some strange indignity,
+	Which patience could not pass.
+
+OTHELLO	I know, Iago,
+	Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter,
+	Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee
+	But never more be officer of mine.
+
+	[Re-enter DESDEMONA, attended]
+
+	Look, if my gentle love be not raised up!
+	I'll make thee an example.
+
+DESDEMONA	What's the matter?
+
+OTHELLO	All's well now, sweeting; come away to bed.
+	Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon:
+	Lead him off.
+
+	[To MONTANO, who is led off]
+
+	Iago, look with care about the town,
+	And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted.
+	Come, Desdemona: 'tis the soldiers' life
+	To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife.
+
+	[Exeunt all but IAGO and CASSIO]
+
+IAGO	What, are you hurt, lieutenant?
+
+CASSIO	Ay, past all surgery.
+
+IAGO	Marry, heaven forbid!
+
+CASSIO	Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost
+	my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of
+	myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation,
+	Iago, my reputation!
+
+IAGO	As I am an honest man, I thought you had received
+	some bodily wound; there is more sense in that than
+	in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false
+	imposition: oft got without merit, and lost without
+	deserving: you have lost no reputation at all,
+	unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man!
+	there are ways to recover the general again: you
+	are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in
+	policy than in malice, even so as one would beat his
+	offenceless dog to affright an imperious lion: sue
+	to him again, and he's yours.
+
+CASSIO	I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so
+	good a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so
+	indiscreet an officer. Drunk? and speak parrot?
+	and squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse
+	fustian with one's own shadow? O thou invisible
+	spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by,
+	let us call thee devil!
+
+IAGO	What was he that you followed with your sword? What
+	had he done to you?
+
+CASSIO	I know not.
+
+IAGO	Is't possible?
+
+CASSIO	I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly;
+	a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men
+	should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away
+	their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance
+	revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!
+
+IAGO	Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus
+	recovered?
+
+CASSIO	It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place
+	to the devil wrath; one unperfectness shows me
+	another, to make me frankly despise myself.
+
+IAGO	Come, you are too severe a moraler: as the time,
+	the place, and the condition of this country
+	stands, I could heartily wish this had not befallen;
+	but, since it is as it is, mend it for your own good.
+
+CASSIO	I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me
+	I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra,
+	such an answer would stop them all. To be now a
+	sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a
+	beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is
+	unblessed and the ingredient is a devil.
+
+IAGO	Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature,
+	if it be well used: exclaim no more against it.
+	And, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you.
+
+CASSIO	I have well approved it, sir. I drunk!
+
+IAGO	You or any man living may be drunk! at a time, man.
+	I'll tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife
+	is now the general: may say so in this respect, for
+	that he hath devoted and given up himself to the
+	contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and
+	graces: confess yourself freely to her; importune
+	her help to put you in your place again: she is of
+	so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition,
+	she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more
+	than she is requested: this broken joint between
+	you and her husband entreat her to splinter; and, my
+	fortunes against any lay worth naming, this
+	crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before.
+
+CASSIO	You advise me well.
+
+IAGO	I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness.
+
+CASSIO	I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will
+	beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me:
+	I am desperate of my fortunes if they cheque me here.
+
+IAGO	You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant; I
+	must to the watch.
+
+CASSIO: Good night, honest Iago.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+IAGO	And what's he then that says I play the villain?
+	When this advice is free I give and honest,
+	Probal to thinking and indeed the course
+	To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy
+	The inclining Desdemona to subdue
+	In any honest suit: she's framed as fruitful
+	As the free elements. And then for her
+	To win the Moor--were't to renounce his baptism,
+	All seals and symbols of redeemed sin,
+	His soul is so enfetter'd to her love,
+	That she may make, unmake, do what she list,
+	Even as her appetite shall play the god
+	With his weak function. How am I then a villain
+	To counsel Cassio to this parallel course,
+	Directly to his good? Divinity of hell!
+	When devils will the blackest sins put on,
+	They do suggest at first with heavenly shows,
+	As I do now: for whiles this honest fool
+	Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes
+	And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor,
+	I'll pour this pestilence into his ear,
+	That she repeals him for her body's lust;
+	And by how much she strives to do him good,
+	She shall undo her credit with the Moor.
+	So will I turn her virtue into pitch,
+	And out of her own goodness make the net
+	That shall enmesh them all.
+
+	[Re-enter RODERIGO]
+
+		      How now, Roderigo!
+
+RODERIGO	I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that
+	hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is
+	almost spent; I have been to-night exceedingly well
+	cudgelled; and I think the issue will be, I shall
+	have so much experience for my pains, and so, with
+	no money at all and a little more wit, return again to Venice.
+
+IAGO	How poor are they that have not patience!
+	What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
+	Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft;
+	And wit depends on dilatory time.
+	Does't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee.
+	And thou, by that small hurt, hast cashier'd Cassio:
+	Though other things grow fair against the sun,
+	Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe:
+	Content thyself awhile. By the mass, 'tis morning;
+	Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
+	Retire thee; go where thou art billeted:
+	Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter:
+	Nay, get thee gone.
+
+	[Exit RODERIGO]
+
+	Two things are to be done:
+	My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress;
+	I'll set her on;
+	Myself the while to draw the Moor apart,
+	And bring him jump when he may Cassio find
+	Soliciting his wife: ay, that's the way
+	Dull not device by coldness and delay.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Before the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter CASSIO and some Musicians]
+
+CASSIO	Masters, play here; I will content your pains;
+	Something that's brief; and bid 'Good morrow, general.'
+
+	[Music]
+
+	[Enter Clown]
+
+Clown	Why masters, have your instruments been in Naples,
+	that they speak i' the nose thus?
+
+First Musician	How, sir, how!
+
+Clown	Are these, I pray you, wind-instruments?
+
+First Musician	Ay, marry, are they, sir.
+
+Clown	O, thereby hangs a tail.
+
+First Musician	Whereby hangs a tale, sir?
+
+Clown	Marry. sir, by many a wind-instrument that I know.
+	But, masters, here's money for you: and the general
+	so likes your music, that he desires you, for love's
+	sake, to make no more noise with it.
+
+First Musician	Well, sir, we will not.
+
+Clown	If you have any music that may not be heard, to't
+	again: but, as they say to hear music the general
+	does not greatly care.
+
+First Musician	We have none such, sir.
+
+Clown	Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll away:
+	go; vanish into air; away!
+
+	[Exeunt Musicians]
+
+CASSIO	Dost thou hear, my honest friend?
+
+Clown	No, I hear not your honest friend; I hear you.
+
+CASSIO	Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There's a poor piece
+	of gold for thee: if the gentlewoman that attends
+	the general's wife be stirring, tell her there's
+	one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech:
+	wilt thou do this?
+
+Clown	She is stirring, sir: if she will stir hither, I
+	shall seem to notify unto her.
+
+CASSIO	Do, good my friend.
+
+	[Exit Clown]
+
+	[Enter IAGO]
+
+	In happy time, Iago.
+
+IAGO	You have not been a-bed, then?
+
+CASSIO	Why, no; the day had broke
+	Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago,
+	To send in to your wife: my suit to her
+	Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona
+	Procure me some access.
+
+IAGO	I'll send her to you presently;
+	And I'll devise a mean to draw the Moor
+	Out of the way, that your converse and business
+	May be more free.
+
+CASSIO	I humbly thank you for't.
+
+	[Exit IAGO]
+
+		    I never knew
+	A Florentine more kind and honest.
+
+	[Enter EMILIA]
+
+EMILIA	Good morrow, good Lieutenant: I am sorry
+	For your displeasure; but all will sure be well.
+	The general and his wife are talking of it;
+	And she speaks for you stoutly: the Moor replies,
+	That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus,
+	And great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdom
+	He might not but refuse you; but he protests he loves you
+	And needs no other suitor but his likings
+	To take the safest occasion by the front
+	To bring you in again.
+
+CASSIO	Yet, I beseech you,
+	If you think fit, or that it may be done,
+	Give me advantage of some brief discourse
+	With Desdemona alone.
+
+EMILIA	Pray you, come in;
+	I will bestow you where you shall have time
+	To speak your bosom freely.
+
+CASSIO	I am much bound to you.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Gentlemen]
+
+OTHELLO	These letters give, Iago, to the pilot;
+	And by him do my duties to the senate:
+	That done, I will be walking on the works;
+	Repair there to me.
+
+IAGO	Well, my good lord, I'll do't.
+
+OTHELLO	This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see't?
+
+Gentleman	We'll wait upon your lordship.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The garden of the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and EMILIA]
+
+DESDEMONA	Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do
+	All my abilities in thy behalf.
+
+EMILIA	Good madam, do: I warrant it grieves my husband,
+	As if the case were his.
+
+DESDEMONA	O, that's an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio,
+	But I will have my lord and you again
+	As friendly as you were.
+
+CASSIO	Bounteous madam,
+	Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,
+	He's never any thing but your true servant.
+
+DESDEMONA	I know't; I thank you. You do love my lord:
+	You have known him long; and be you well assured
+	He shall in strangeness stand no further off
+	Than in a polite distance.
+
+CASSIO	Ay, but, lady,
+	That policy may either last so long,
+	Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
+	Or breed itself so out of circumstance,
+	That, I being absent and my place supplied,
+	My general will forget my love and service.
+
+DESDEMONA	Do not doubt that; before Emilia here
+	I give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee,
+	If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it
+	To the last article: my lord shall never rest;
+	I'll watch him tame and talk him out of patience;
+	His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;
+	I'll intermingle every thing he does
+	With Cassio's suit: therefore be merry, Cassio;
+	For thy solicitor shall rather die
+	Than give thy cause away.
+
+EMILIA	Madam, here comes my lord.
+
+CASSIO	Madam, I'll take my leave.
+
+DESDEMONA	Why, stay, and hear me speak.
+
+CASSIO	Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease,
+	Unfit for mine own purposes.
+
+DESDEMONA	Well, do your discretion.
+
+	[Exit CASSIO]
+
+	[Enter OTHELLO and IAGO]
+
+IAGO	Ha! I like not that.
+
+OTHELLO	What dost thou say?
+
+IAGO	Nothing, my lord: or if--I know not what.
+
+OTHELLO	Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?
+
+IAGO	Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it,
+	That he would steal away so guilty-like,
+	Seeing you coming.
+
+OTHELLO	                  I do believe 'twas he.
+
+DESDEMONA	How now, my lord!
+	I have been talking with a suitor here,
+	A man that languishes in your displeasure.
+
+OTHELLO	Who is't you mean?
+
+DESDEMONA	Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord,
+	If I have any grace or power to move you,
+	His present reconciliation take;
+	For if he be not one that truly loves you,
+	That errs in ignorance and not in cunning,
+	I have no judgment in an honest face:
+	I prithee, call him back.
+
+OTHELLO	Went he hence now?
+
+DESDEMONA	Ay, sooth; so humbled
+	That he hath left part of his grief with me,
+	To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.
+
+OTHELLO	Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time.
+
+DESDEMONA	But shall't be shortly?
+
+OTHELLO	The sooner, sweet, for you.
+
+DESDEMONA	Shall't be to-night at supper?
+
+OTHELLO	No, not to-night.
+
+DESDEMONA	To-morrow dinner, then?
+
+OTHELLO	I shall not dine at home;
+	I meet the captains at the citadel.
+
+DESDEMONA	Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn;
+	On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn:
+	I prithee, name the time, but let it not
+	Exceed three days: in faith, he's penitent;
+	And yet his trespass, in our common reason--
+	Save that, they say, the wars must make examples
+	Out of their best--is not almost a fault
+	To incur a private cheque. When shall he come?
+	Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul,
+	What you would ask me, that I should deny,
+	Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio,
+	That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time,
+	When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,
+	Hath ta'en your part; to have so much to do
+	To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,--
+
+OTHELLO	Prithee, no more: let him come when he will;
+	I will deny thee nothing.
+
+DESDEMONA	Why, this is not a boon;
+	'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,
+	Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,
+	Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit
+	To your own person: nay, when I have a suit
+	Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
+	It shall be full of poise and difficult weight
+	And fearful to be granted.
+
+OTHELLO	I will deny thee nothing:
+	Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,
+	To leave me but a little to myself.
+
+DESDEMONA	Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord.
+
+OTHELLO	Farewell, my Desdemona: I'll come to thee straight.
+
+DESDEMONA	Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you;
+	Whate'er you be, I am obedient.
+
+	[Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA]
+
+OTHELLO	Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
+	But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
+	Chaos is come again.
+
+IAGO	My noble lord--
+
+OTHELLO	                  What dost thou say, Iago?
+
+IAGO	Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady,
+	Know of your love?
+
+OTHELLO	He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask?
+
+IAGO	But for a satisfaction of my thought;
+	No further harm.
+
+OTHELLO	                  Why of thy thought, Iago?
+
+IAGO	I did not think he had been acquainted with her.
+
+OTHELLO	O, yes; and went between us very oft.
+
+IAGO	Indeed!
+
+OTHELLO	Indeed! ay, indeed: discern'st thou aught in that?
+	Is he not honest?
+
+IAGO	Honest, my lord!
+
+OTHELLO	                  Honest! ay, honest.
+
+IAGO	My lord, for aught I know.
+
+OTHELLO	What dost thou think?
+
+IAGO	Think, my lord!
+
+OTHELLO	Think, my lord!
+	By heaven, he echoes me,
+	As if there were some monster in his thought
+	Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something:
+	I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that,
+	When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like?
+	And when I told thee he was of my counsel
+	In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst 'Indeed!'
+	And didst contract and purse thy brow together,
+	As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
+	Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me,
+	Show me thy thought.
+
+IAGO	My lord, you know I love you.
+
+OTHELLO	I think thou dost;
+	And, for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty,
+	And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath,
+	Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more:
+	For such things in a false disloyal knave
+	Are tricks of custom, but in a man that's just
+	They are close delations, working from the heart
+	That passion cannot rule.
+
+IAGO	For Michael Cassio,
+	I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.
+
+OTHELLO	I think so too.
+
+IAGO	                  Men should be what they seem;
+	Or those that be not, would they might seem none!
+
+OTHELLO	Certain, men should be what they seem.
+
+IAGO	Why, then, I think Cassio's an honest man.
+
+OTHELLO	Nay, yet there's more in this:
+	I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,
+	As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts
+	The worst of words.
+
+IAGO	Good my lord, pardon me:
+	Though I am bound to every act of duty,
+	I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.
+	Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false;
+	As where's that palace whereinto foul things
+	Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,
+	But some uncleanly apprehensions
+	Keep leets and law-days and in session sit
+	With meditations lawful?
+
+OTHELLO	Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
+	If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his ear
+	A stranger to thy thoughts.
+
+IAGO	I do beseech you--
+	Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,
+	As, I confess, it is my nature's plague
+	To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy
+	Shapes faults that are not--that your wisdom yet,
+	From one that so imperfectly conceits,
+	Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble
+	Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
+	It were not for your quiet nor your good,
+	Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,
+	To let you know my thoughts.
+
+OTHELLO	What dost thou mean?
+
+IAGO	Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
+	Is the immediate jewel of their souls:
+	Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
+	'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands:
+	But he that filches from me my good name
+	Robs me of that which not enriches him
+	And makes me poor indeed.
+
+OTHELLO	By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts.
+
+IAGO	You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;
+	Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.
+
+OTHELLO	Ha!
+
+IAGO	O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
+	It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
+	The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss
+	Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
+	But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er
+	Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!
+
+OTHELLO	O misery!
+
+IAGO	Poor and content is rich and rich enough,
+	But riches fineless is as poor as winter
+	To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
+	Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
+	From jealousy!
+
+OTHELLO	                  Why, why is this?
+	Think'st thou I'ld make a lie of jealousy,
+	To follow still the changes of the moon
+	With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt
+	Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat,
+	When I shall turn the business of my soul
+	To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,
+	Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous
+	To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,
+	Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well;
+	Where virtue is, these are more virtuous:
+	Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
+	The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt;
+	For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago;
+	I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;
+	And on the proof, there is no more but this,--
+	Away at once with love or jealousy!
+
+IAGO	I am glad of it; for now I shall have reason
+	To show the love and duty that I bear you
+	With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound,
+	Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.
+	Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;
+	Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure:
+	I would not have your free and noble nature,
+	Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to't:
+	I know our country disposition well;
+	In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks
+	They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience
+	Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown.
+
+OTHELLO	Dost thou say so?
+
+IAGO	She did deceive her father, marrying you;
+	And when she seem'd to shake and fear your looks,
+	She loved them most.
+
+OTHELLO	And so she did.
+
+IAGO	Why, go to then;
+	She that, so young, could give out such a seeming,
+	To seal her father's eyes up close as oak-
+	He thought 'twas witchcraft--but I am much to blame;
+	I humbly do beseech you of your pardon
+	For too much loving you.
+
+OTHELLO	I am bound to thee for ever.
+
+IAGO	I see this hath a little dash'd your spirits.
+
+OTHELLO	Not a jot, not a jot.
+
+IAGO	I' faith, I fear it has.
+	I hope you will consider what is spoke
+	Comes from my love. But I do see you're moved:
+	I am to pray you not to strain my speech
+	To grosser issues nor to larger reach
+	Than to suspicion.
+
+OTHELLO	I will not.
+
+IAGO	          Should you do so, my lord,
+	My speech should fall into such vile success
+	As my thoughts aim not at. Cassio's my worthy friend--
+	My lord, I see you're moved.
+
+OTHELLO	No, not much moved:
+	I do not think but Desdemona's honest.
+
+IAGO	Long live she so! and long live you to think so!
+
+OTHELLO	And yet, how nature erring from itself,--
+
+IAGO	Ay, there's the point: as--to be bold with you--
+	Not to affect many proposed matches
+	Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,
+	Whereto we see in all things nature tends--
+	Foh! one may smell in such a will most rank,
+	Foul disproportion thoughts unnatural.
+	But pardon me; I do not in position
+	Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear
+	Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
+	May fall to match you with her country forms
+	And happily repent.
+
+OTHELLO	Farewell, farewell:
+	If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;
+	Set on thy wife to observe: leave me, Iago:
+
+IAGO	[Going]  My lord, I take my leave.
+
+OTHELLO	Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless
+	Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.
+
+IAGO	[Returning]  My lord, I would I might entreat
+	your honour
+	To scan this thing no further; leave it to time:
+	Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,
+	For sure, he fills it up with great ability,
+	Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,
+	You shall by that perceive him and his means:
+	Note, if your lady strain his entertainment
+	With any strong or vehement importunity;
+	Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,
+	Let me be thought too busy in my fears--
+	As worthy cause I have to fear I am--
+	And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.
+
+OTHELLO	Fear not my government.
+
+IAGO	I once more take my leave.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+OTHELLO	This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
+	And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,
+	Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,
+	Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,
+	I'ld whistle her off and let her down the wind,
+	To pray at fortune. Haply, for I am black
+	And have not those soft parts of conversation
+	That chamberers have, or for I am declined
+	Into the vale of years,--yet that's not much--
+	She's gone. I am abused; and my relief
+	Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,
+	That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
+	And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
+	And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,
+	Than keep a corner in the thing I love
+	For others' uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones;
+	Prerogatived are they less than the base;
+	'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death:
+	Even then this forked plague is fated to us
+	When we do quicken. Desdemona comes:
+
+	[Re-enter DESDEMONA and EMILIA]
+
+	If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!
+	I'll not believe't.
+
+DESDEMONA	How now, my dear Othello!
+	Your dinner, and the generous islanders
+	By you invited, do attend your presence.
+
+OTHELLO	I am to blame.
+
+DESDEMONA	                  Why do you speak so faintly?
+	Are you not well?
+
+OTHELLO	I have a pain upon my forehead here.
+
+DESDEMONA	'Faith, that's with watching; 'twill away again:
+	Let me but bind it hard, within this hour
+	It will be well.
+
+OTHELLO	                  Your napkin is too little:
+
+	[He puts the handkerchief from him; and it drops]
+
+	Let it alone. Come, I'll go in with you.
+
+DESDEMONA	I am very sorry that you are not well.
+
+	[Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA]
+
+EMILIA	I am glad I have found this napkin:
+	This was her first remembrance from the Moor:
+	My wayward husband hath a hundred times
+	Woo'd me to steal it; but she so loves the token,
+	For he conjured her she should ever keep it,
+	That she reserves it evermore about her
+	To kiss and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,
+	And give't Iago: what he will do with it
+	Heaven knows, not I;
+	I nothing but to please his fantasy.
+
+	[Re-enter Iago]
+
+IAGO	How now! what do you here alone?
+
+EMILIA	Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.
+
+IAGO	A thing for me? it is a common thing--
+
+EMILIA	Ha!
+
+IAGO	To have a foolish wife.
+
+EMILIA	O, is that all? What will you give me now
+	For the same handkerchief?
+
+IAGO	What handkerchief?
+
+EMILIA	What handkerchief?
+	Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;
+	That which so often you did bid me steal.
+
+IAGO	Hast stol'n it from her?
+
+EMILIA	No, 'faith; she let it drop by negligence.
+	And, to the advantage, I, being here, took't up.
+	Look, here it is.
+
+IAGO	                  A good wench; give it me.
+
+EMILIA	What will you do with 't, that you have been
+	so earnest
+	To have me filch it?
+
+IAGO	[Snatching it]  Why, what's that to you?
+
+EMILIA	If it be not for some purpose of import,
+	Give't me again: poor lady, she'll run mad
+	When she shall lack it.
+
+IAGO	Be not acknown on 't; I have use for it.
+	Go, leave me.
+
+	[Exit EMILIA]
+
+	I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin,
+	And let him find it. Trifles light as air
+	Are to the jealous confirmations strong
+	As proofs of holy writ: this may do something.
+	The Moor already changes with my poison:
+	Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons.
+	Which at the first are scarce found to distaste,
+	But with a little act upon the blood.
+	Burn like the mines of Sulphur. I did say so:
+	Look, where he comes!
+
+	[Re-enter OTHELLO]
+
+		Not poppy, nor mandragora,
+	Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
+	Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
+	Which thou owedst yesterday.
+
+OTHELLO	Ha! ha! false to me?
+
+IAGO	Why, how now, general! no more of that.
+
+OTHELLO	Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on the rack:
+	I swear 'tis better to be much abused
+	Than but to know't a little.
+
+IAGO	How now, my lord!
+
+OTHELLO	What sense had I of her stol'n hours of lust?
+	I saw't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me:
+	I slept the next night well, was free and merry;
+	I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips:
+	He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stol'n,
+	Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.
+
+IAGO	I am sorry to hear this.
+
+OTHELLO	I had been happy, if the general camp,
+	Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,
+	So I had nothing known. O, now, for ever
+	Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
+	Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,
+	That make ambition virtue! O, farewell!
+	Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,
+	The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,
+	The royal banner, and all quality,
+	Pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war!
+	And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats
+	The immortal Jove's dead clamours counterfeit,
+	Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!
+
+IAGO	Is't possible, my lord?
+
+OTHELLO	Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore,
+	Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof:
+	Or by the worth of man's eternal soul,
+	Thou hadst been better have been born a dog
+	Than answer my waked wrath!
+
+IAGO	Is't come to this?
+
+OTHELLO	Make me to see't; or, at the least, so prove it,
+	That the probation bear no hinge nor loop
+	To hang a doubt on; or woe upon thy life!
+
+IAGO	My noble lord,--
+
+OTHELLO	If thou dost slander her and torture me,
+	Never pray more; abandon all remorse;
+	On horror's head horrors accumulate;
+	Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amazed;
+	For nothing canst thou to damnation add
+	Greater than that.
+
+IAGO	                  O grace! O heaven forgive me!
+	Are you a man? have you a soul or sense?
+	God be wi' you; take mine office. O wretched fool.
+	That livest to make thine honesty a vice!
+	O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world,
+	To be direct and honest is not safe.
+	I thank you for this profit; and from hence
+	I'll love no friend, sith love breeds such offence.
+
+OTHELLO	Nay, stay: thou shouldst be honest.
+
+IAGO	I should be wise, for honesty's a fool
+	And loses that it works for.
+
+OTHELLO	By the world,
+	I think my wife be honest and think she is not;
+	I think that thou art just and think thou art not.
+	I'll have some proof. Her name, that was as fresh
+	As Dian's visage, is now begrimed and black
+	As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives,
+	Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,
+	I'll not endure it. Would I were satisfied!
+
+IAGO	I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion:
+	I do repent me that I put it to you.
+	You would be satisfied?
+
+OTHELLO	Would! nay, I will.
+
+IAGO	And may: but, how? how satisfied, my lord?
+	Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on--
+	Behold her topp'd?
+
+OTHELLO	                  Death and damnation! O!
+
+IAGO	It were a tedious difficulty, I think,
+	To bring them to that prospect: damn them then,
+	If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster
+	More than their own! What then? how then?
+	What shall I say? Where's satisfaction?
+	It is impossible you should see this,
+	Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys,
+	As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross
+	As ignorance made drunk. But yet, I say,
+	If imputation and strong circumstances,
+	Which lead directly to the door of truth,
+	Will give you satisfaction, you may have't.
+
+OTHELLO	Give me a living reason she's disloyal.
+
+IAGO	I do not like the office:
+	But, sith I am enter'd in this cause so far,
+	Prick'd to't by foolish honesty and love,
+	I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately;
+	And, being troubled with a raging tooth,
+	I could not sleep.
+	There are a kind of men so loose of soul,
+	That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs:
+	One of this kind is Cassio:
+	In sleep I heard him say 'Sweet Desdemona,
+	Let us be wary, let us hide our loves;'
+	And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
+	Cry 'O sweet creature!' and then kiss me hard,
+	As if he pluck'd up kisses by the roots
+	That grew upon my lips: then laid his leg
+	Over my thigh, and sigh'd, and kiss'd; and then
+	Cried 'Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!'
+
+OTHELLO	O monstrous! monstrous!
+
+IAGO	Nay, this was but his dream.
+
+OTHELLO	But this denoted a foregone conclusion:
+	'Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.
+
+IAGO	And this may help to thicken other proofs
+	That do demonstrate thinly.
+
+OTHELLO	I'll tear her all to pieces.
+
+IAGO	Nay, but be wise: yet we see nothing done;
+	She may be honest yet. Tell me but this,
+	Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief
+	Spotted with strawberries in your wife's hand?
+
+OTHELLO	I gave her such a one; 'twas my first gift.
+
+IAGO	I know not that; but such a handkerchief--
+	I am sure it was your wife's--did I to-day
+	See Cassio wipe his beard with.
+
+OTHELLO	If it be that--
+
+IAGO	If it be that, or any that was hers,
+	It speaks against her with the other proofs.
+
+OTHELLO	O, that the slave had forty thousand lives!
+	One is too poor, too weak for my revenge.
+	Now do I see 'tis true. Look here, Iago;
+	All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven.
+	'Tis gone.
+	Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell!
+	Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne
+	To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
+	For 'tis of aspics' tongues!
+
+IAGO	Yet be content.
+
+OTHELLO	O, blood, blood, blood!
+
+IAGO	Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may change.
+
+OTHELLO	Never, Iago: Like to the Pontic sea,
+	Whose icy current and compulsive course
+	Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
+	To the Propontic and the Hellespont,
+	Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,
+	Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love,
+	Till that a capable and wide revenge
+	Swallow them up. Now, by yond marble heaven,
+
+	[Kneels]
+
+	In the due reverence of a sacred vow
+	I here engage my words.
+
+IAGO	Do not rise yet.
+
+	[Kneels]
+
+	Witness, you ever-burning lights above,
+	You elements that clip us round about,
+	Witness that here Iago doth give up
+	The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
+	To wrong'd Othello's service! Let him command,
+	And to obey shall be in me remorse,
+	What bloody business ever.
+
+	[They rise]
+
+OTHELLO	I greet thy love,
+	Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
+	And will upon the instant put thee to't:
+	Within these three days let me hear thee say
+	That Cassio's not alive.
+
+IAGO	My friend is dead; 'tis done at your request:
+	But let her live.
+
+OTHELLO	Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her!
+	Come, go with me apart; I will withdraw,
+	To furnish me with some swift means of death
+	For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.
+
+IAGO	I am your own for ever.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Before the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, and Clown]
+
+DESDEMONA	Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lies?
+
+Clown	I dare not say he lies any where.
+
+DESDEMONA	Why, man?
+
+Clown	He's a soldier, and for one to say a soldier lies,
+	is stabbing.
+
+DESDEMONA	Go to: where lodges he?
+
+Clown	To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where I lie.
+
+DESDEMONA	Can any thing be made of this?
+
+Clown	I know not where he lodges, and for me to devise a
+	lodging and say he lies here or he lies there, were
+	to lie in mine own throat.
+
+DESDEMONA	Can you inquire him out, and be edified by report?
+
+Clown	I will catechise the world for him; that is, make
+	questions, and by them answer.
+
+DESDEMONA	Seek him, bid him come hither: tell him I have
+	moved my lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well.
+
+Clown	To do this is within the compass of man's wit: and
+	therefore I will attempt the doing it.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DESDEMONA	Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?
+
+EMILIA	I know not, madam.
+
+DESDEMONA	Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse
+	Full of crusadoes: and, but my noble Moor
+	Is true of mind and made of no such baseness
+	As jealous creatures are, it were enough
+	To put him to ill thinking.
+
+EMILIA	Is he not jealous?
+
+DESDEMONA	Who, he? I think the sun where he was born
+	Drew all such humours from him.
+
+EMILIA	Look, where he comes.
+
+DESDEMONA	I will not leave him now till Cassio
+	Be call'd to him.
+
+	[Enter OTHELLO]
+
+	How is't with you, my lord
+
+OTHELLO	Well, my good lady.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	O, hardness to dissemble!--
+	How do you, Desdemona?
+
+DESDEMONA	Well, my good lord.
+
+OTHELLO	Give me your hand: this hand is moist, my lady.
+
+DESDEMONA	It yet hath felt no age nor known no sorrow.
+
+OTHELLO	This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart:
+	Hot, hot, and moist: this hand of yours requires
+	A sequester from liberty, fasting and prayer,
+	Much castigation, exercise devout;
+	For here's a young and sweating devil here,
+	That commonly rebels. 'Tis a good hand,
+	A frank one.
+
+DESDEMONA	                  You may, indeed, say so;
+	For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart.
+
+OTHELLO	A liberal hand: the hearts of old gave hands;
+	But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.
+
+DESDEMONA	I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise.
+
+OTHELLO	What promise, chuck?
+
+DESDEMONA	I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.
+
+OTHELLO	I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me;
+	Lend me thy handkerchief.
+
+DESDEMONA	Here, my lord.
+
+OTHELLO	That which I gave you.
+
+DESDEMONA	I have it not about me.
+
+OTHELLO	Not?
+
+DESDEMONA	   No, indeed, my lord.
+
+OTHELLO	That is a fault.
+
+	That handkerchief
+	Did an Egyptian to my mother give;
+	She was a charmer, and could almost read
+	The thoughts of people: she told her, while
+	she kept it,
+	'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father
+	Entirely to her love, but if she lost it
+	Or made gift of it, my father's eye
+	Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt
+	After new fancies: she, dying, gave it me;
+	And bid me, when my fate would have me wive,
+	To give it her. I did so: and take heed on't;
+	Make it a darling like your precious eye;
+	To lose't or give't away were such perdition
+	As nothing else could match.
+
+DESDEMONA	Is't possible?
+
+OTHELLO	'Tis true: there's magic in the web of it:
+	A sibyl, that had number'd in the world
+	The sun to course two hundred compasses,
+	In her prophetic fury sew'd the work;
+	The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk;
+	And it was dyed in mummy which the skilful
+	Conserved of maidens' hearts.
+
+DESDEMONA	Indeed! is't true?
+
+OTHELLO	Most veritable; therefore look to't well.
+
+DESDEMONA	Then would to God that I had never seen't!
+
+OTHELLO	Ha! wherefore?
+
+DESDEMONA	Why do you speak so startingly and rash?
+
+OTHELLO	Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out
+	o' the way?
+
+DESDEMONA	Heaven bless us!
+
+OTHELLO	Say you?
+
+DESDEMONA	It is not lost; but what an if it were?
+
+OTHELLO	How!
+
+DESDEMONA	I say, it is not lost.
+
+OTHELLO	Fetch't, let me see't.
+
+DESDEMONA	Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now.
+	This is a trick to put me from my suit:
+	Pray you, let Cassio be received again.
+
+OTHELLO	Fetch me the handkerchief: my mind misgives.
+
+DESDEMONA	Come, come;
+	You'll never meet a more sufficient man.
+
+OTHELLO	The handkerchief!
+
+DESDEMONA	                  I pray, talk me of Cassio.
+
+OTHELLO	The handkerchief!
+
+DESDEMONA	                  A man that all his time
+	Hath founded his good fortunes on your love,
+	Shared dangers with you,--
+
+OTHELLO	The handkerchief!
+
+DESDEMONA	In sooth, you are to blame.
+
+OTHELLO	Away!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+EMILIA	Is not this man jealous?
+
+DESDEMONA	I ne'er saw this before.
+	Sure, there's some wonder in this handkerchief:
+	I am most unhappy in the loss of it.
+
+EMILIA	'Tis not a year or two shows us a man:
+	They are all but stomachs, and we all but food;
+	To eat us hungerly, and when they are full,
+	They belch us. Look you, Cassio and my husband!
+
+	[Enter CASSIO and IAGO]
+
+IAGO	There is no other way; 'tis she must do't:
+	And, lo, the happiness! go, and importune her.
+
+DESDEMONA	How now, good Cassio! what's the news with you?
+
+CASSIO	Madam, my former suit: I do beseech you
+	That by your virtuous means I may again
+	Exist, and be a member of his love
+	Whom I with all the office of my heart
+	Entirely honour: I would not be delay'd.
+	If my offence be of such mortal kind
+	That nor my service past, nor present sorrows,
+	Nor purposed merit in futurity,
+	Can ransom me into his love again,
+	But to know so must be my benefit;
+	So shall I clothe me in a forced content,
+	And shut myself up in some other course,
+	To fortune's alms.
+
+DESDEMONA	                  Alas, thrice-gentle Cassio!
+	My advocation is not now in tune;
+	My lord is not my lord; nor should I know him,
+	Were he in favour as in humour alter'd.
+	So help me every spirit sanctified,
+	As I have spoken for you all my best
+	And stood within the blank of his displeasure
+	For my free speech! you must awhile be patient:
+	What I can do I will; and more I will
+	Than for myself I dare: let that suffice you.
+
+IAGO	Is my lord angry?
+
+EMILIA	                  He went hence but now,
+	And certainly in strange unquietness.
+
+IAGO	Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon,
+	When it hath blown his ranks into the air,
+	And, like the devil, from his very arm
+	Puff'd his own brother:--and can he be angry?
+	Something of moment then: I will go meet him:
+	There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry.
+
+DESDEMONA	I prithee, do so.
+
+	[Exit IAGO]
+
+	Something, sure, of state,
+	Either from Venice, or some unhatch'd practise
+	Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him,
+	Hath puddled his clear spirit: and in such cases
+	Men's natures wrangle with inferior things,
+	Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so;
+	For let our finger ache, and it indues
+	Our other healthful members even to that sense
+	Of pain: nay, we must think men are not gods,
+	Nor of them look for such observances
+	As fit the bridal. Beshrew me much, Emilia,
+	I was, unhandsome warrior as I am,
+	Arraigning his unkindness with my soul;
+	But now I find I had suborn'd the witness,
+	And he's indicted falsely.
+
+EMILIA	Pray heaven it be state-matters, as you think,
+	And no conception nor no jealous toy
+	Concerning you.
+
+DESDEMONA	Alas the day! I never gave him cause.
+
+EMILIA	But jealous souls will not be answer'd so;
+	They are not ever jealous for the cause,
+	But jealous for they are jealous: 'tis a monster
+	Begot upon itself, born on itself.
+
+DESDEMONA	Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind!
+
+EMILIA	Lady, amen.
+
+DESDEMONA	I will go seek him. Cassio, walk hereabout:
+	If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit
+	And seek to effect it to my uttermost.
+
+CASSIO	I humbly thank your ladyship.
+
+	[Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA]
+
+	[Enter BIANCA]
+
+BIANCA	Save you, friend Cassio!
+
+CASSIO	What make you from home?
+	How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?
+	I' faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.
+
+BIANCA	And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.
+	What, keep a week away? seven days and nights?
+	Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours,
+	More tedious than the dial eight score times?
+	O weary reckoning!
+
+CASSIO	                  Pardon me, Bianca:
+	I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd:
+	But I shall, in a more continuate time,
+	Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca,
+
+	[Giving her DESDEMONA's handkerchief]
+
+	Take me this work out.
+
+BIANCA	O Cassio, whence came this?
+	This is some token from a newer friend:
+	To the felt absence now I feel a cause:
+	Is't come to this? Well, well.
+
+CASSIO	Go to, woman!
+	Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth,
+	From whence you have them. You are jealous now
+	That this is from some mistress, some remembrance:
+	No, in good troth, Bianca.
+
+BIANCA	Why, whose is it?
+
+CASSIO	I know not, sweet: I found it in my chamber.
+	I like the work well: ere it be demanded--
+	As like enough it will--I'ld have it copied:
+	Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time.
+
+BIANCA	Leave you! wherefore?
+
+CASSIO	I do attend here on the general;
+	And think it no addition, nor my wish,
+	To have him see me woman'd.
+
+BIANCA	Why, I pray you?
+
+CASSIO	Not that I love you not.
+
+BIANCA	But that you do not love me.
+	I pray you, bring me on the way a little,
+	And say if I shall see you soon at night.
+
+CASSIO	'Tis but a little way that I can bring you;
+	For I attend here: but I'll see you soon.
+
+BIANCA	'Tis very good; I must be circumstanced.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Cyprus. Before the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter OTHELLO and IAGO]
+
+IAGO	Will you think so?
+
+OTHELLO	                  Think so, Iago!
+
+IAGO	What,
+	To kiss in private?
+
+OTHELLO	An unauthorized kiss.
+
+IAGO	Or to be naked with her friend in bed
+	An hour or more, not meaning any harm?
+
+OTHELLO	Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm!
+	It is hypocrisy against the devil:
+	They that mean virtuously, and yet do so,
+	The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven.
+
+IAGO	So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip:
+	But if I give my wife a handkerchief,--
+
+OTHELLO	What then?
+
+IAGO	Why, then, 'tis hers, my lord; and, being hers,
+	She may, I think, bestow't on any man.
+
+OTHELLO	She is protectress of her honour too:
+	May she give that?
+
+IAGO	Her honour is an essence that's not seen;
+	They have it very oft that have it not:
+	But, for the handkerchief,--
+
+OTHELLO	By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it.
+	Thou said'st, it comes o'er my memory,
+	As doth the raven o'er the infected house,
+	Boding to all--he had my handkerchief.
+
+IAGO	Ay, what of that?
+
+OTHELLO	                  That's not so good now.
+
+IAGO	What,
+	If I had said I had seen him do you wrong?
+	Or heard him say,--as knaves be such abroad,
+	Who having, by their own importunate suit,
+	Or voluntary dotage of some mistress,
+	Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose
+	But they must blab--
+
+OTHELLO	Hath he said any thing?
+
+IAGO	He hath, my lord; but be you well assured,
+	No more than he'll unswear.
+
+OTHELLO	What hath he said?
+
+IAGO	'Faith, that he did--I know not what he did.
+
+OTHELLO	What? what?
+
+IAGO	Lie--
+
+OTHELLO	    With her?
+
+IAGO	With her, on her; what you will.
+
+OTHELLO	Lie with her! lie on her! We say lie on her, when
+	they belie her. Lie with her! that's fulsome.
+	--Handkerchief--confessions--handkerchief!--To
+	confess, and be hanged for his labour;--first, to be
+	hanged, and then to confess.--I tremble at it.
+	Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing
+	passion without some instruction. It is not words
+	that shake me thus. Pish! Noses, ears, and lips.
+	--Is't possible?--Confess--handkerchief!--O devil!--
+
+	[Falls in a trance]
+
+IAGO	Work on,
+	My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught;
+	And many worthy and chaste dames even thus,
+	All guiltless, meet reproach. What, ho! my lord!
+	My lord, I say! Othello!
+
+	[Enter CASSIO]
+
+		    How now, Cassio!
+
+CASSIO	What's the matter?
+
+IAGO	My lord is fall'n into an epilepsy:
+	This is his second fit; he had one yesterday.
+
+CASSIO	Rub him about the temples.
+
+IAGO	No, forbear;
+	The lethargy must have his quiet course:
+	If not, he foams at mouth and by and by
+	Breaks out to savage madness. Look he stirs:
+	Do you withdraw yourself a little while,
+	He will recover straight: when he is gone,
+	I would on great occasion speak with you.
+
+	[Exit CASSIO]
+
+	How is it, general? have you not hurt your head?
+
+OTHELLO	Dost thou mock me?
+
+IAGO	                  I mock you! no, by heaven.
+	Would you would bear your fortune like a man!
+
+OTHELLO	A horned man's a monster and a beast.
+
+IAGO	There's many a beast then in a populous city,
+	And many a civil monster.
+
+OTHELLO	Did he confess it?
+
+IAGO	                  Good sir, be a man;
+	Think every bearded fellow that's but yoked
+	May draw with you: there's millions now alive
+	That nightly lie in those unproper beds
+	Which they dare swear peculiar: your case is better.
+	O, 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mock,
+	To lip a wanton in a secure couch,
+	And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know;
+	And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.
+
+OTHELLO	O, thou art wise; 'tis certain.
+
+IAGO	Stand you awhile apart;
+	Confine yourself but in a patient list.
+	Whilst you were here o'erwhelmed with your grief--
+	A passion most unsuiting such a man--
+	Cassio came hither: I shifted him away,
+	And laid good 'scuse upon your ecstasy,
+	Bade him anon return and here speak with me;
+	The which he promised. Do but encave yourself,
+	And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns,
+	That dwell in every region of his face;
+	For I will make him tell the tale anew,
+	Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when
+	He hath, and is again to cope your wife:
+	I say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience;
+	Or I shall say you are all in all in spleen,
+	And nothing of a man.
+
+OTHELLO	Dost thou hear, Iago?
+	I will be found most cunning in my patience;
+	But--dost thou hear?--most bloody.
+
+IAGO	That's not amiss;
+	But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?
+
+	[OTHELLO retires]
+
+	Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,
+	A housewife that by selling her desires
+	Buys herself bread and clothes: it is a creature
+	That dotes on Cassio; as 'tis the strumpet's plague
+	To beguile many and be beguiled by one:
+	He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
+	From the excess of laughter. Here he comes:
+
+	[Re-enter CASSIO]
+
+	As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad;
+	And his unbookish jealousy must construe
+	Poor Cassio's smiles, gestures and light behavior,
+	Quite in the wrong. How do you now, lieutenant?
+
+CASSIO	The worser that you give me the addition
+	Whose want even kills me.
+
+IAGO	Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on't.
+
+	[Speaking lower]
+
+	Now, if this suit lay in Bianco's power,
+	How quickly should you speed!
+
+CASSIO	Alas, poor caitiff!
+
+OTHELLO	Look, how he laughs already!
+
+IAGO	I never knew woman love man so.
+
+CASSIO	Alas, poor rogue! I think, i' faith, she loves me.
+
+OTHELLO	Now he denies it faintly, and laughs it out.
+
+IAGO	Do you hear, Cassio?
+
+OTHELLO	Now he importunes him
+	To tell it o'er: go to; well said, well said.
+
+IAGO	She gives it out that you shall marry hey:
+	Do you intend it?
+
+CASSIO	Ha, ha, ha!
+
+OTHELLO	Do you triumph, Roman? do you triumph?
+
+CASSIO	I marry her! what? a customer! Prithee, bear some
+	charity to my wit: do not think it so unwholesome.
+	Ha, ha, ha!
+
+OTHELLO	So, so, so, so: they laugh that win.
+
+IAGO	'Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her.
+
+CASSIO	Prithee, say true.
+
+IAGO	I am a very villain else.
+
+OTHELLO	Have you scored me? Well.
+
+CASSIO	This is the monkey's own giving out: she is
+	persuaded I will marry her, out of her own love and
+	flattery, not out of my promise.
+
+OTHELLO	Iago beckons me; now he begins the story.
+
+CASSIO	She was here even now; she haunts me in every place.
+	I was the other day talking on the sea-bank with
+	certain Venetians; and thither comes the bauble,
+	and, by this hand, she falls me thus about my neck--
+
+OTHELLO	Crying 'O dear Cassio!' as it were: his gesture
+	imports it.
+
+CASSIO	So hangs, and lolls, and weeps upon me; so hales,
+	and pulls me: ha, ha, ha!
+
+OTHELLO	Now he tells how she plucked him to my chamber. O,
+	I see that nose of yours, but not that dog I shall
+	throw it to.
+
+CASSIO	Well, I must leave her company.
+
+IAGO	Before me! look, where she comes.
+
+CASSIO	'Tis such another fitchew! marry a perfumed one.
+
+	[Enter BIANCA]
+
+	What do you mean by this haunting of me?
+
+BIANCA	Let the devil and his dam haunt you! What did you
+	mean by that same handkerchief you gave me even now?
+	I was a fine fool to take it. I must take out the
+	work?--A likely piece of work, that you should find
+	it in your chamber, and not know who left it there!
+	This is some minx's token, and I must take out the
+	work? There; give it your hobby-horse: wheresoever
+	you had it, I'll take out no work on't.
+
+CASSIO	How now, my sweet Bianca! how now! how now!
+
+OTHELLO	By heaven, that should be my handkerchief!
+
+BIANCA	An you'll come to supper to-night, you may; an you
+	will not, come when you are next prepared for.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+IAGO	After her, after her.
+
+CASSIO	'Faith, I must; she'll rail in the street else.
+
+IAGO	Will you sup there?
+
+CASSIO	'Faith, I intend so.
+
+IAGO	Well, I may chance to see you; for I would very fain
+	speak with you.
+
+CASSIO	Prithee, come; will you?
+
+IAGO	Go to; say no more.
+
+	[Exit CASSIO]
+
+OTHELLO	[Advancing]  How shall I murder him, Iago?
+
+IAGO	Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice?
+
+OTHELLO	O Iago!
+
+IAGO	And did you see the handkerchief?
+
+OTHELLO	Was that mine?
+
+IAGO	Yours by this hand: and to see how he prizes the
+	foolish woman your wife! she gave it him, and he
+	hath given it his whore.
+
+OTHELLO	I would have him nine years a-killing.
+	A fine woman! a fair woman! a sweet woman!
+
+IAGO	Nay, you must forget that.
+
+OTHELLO	Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned to-night;
+	for she shall not live: no, my heart is turned to
+	stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the
+	world hath not a sweeter creature: she might lie by
+	an emperor's side and command him tasks.
+
+IAGO	Nay, that's not your way.
+
+OTHELLO	Hang her! I do but say what she is: so delicate
+	with her needle: an admirable musician: O! she
+	will sing the savageness out of a bear: of so high
+	and plenteous wit and invention:--
+
+IAGO	She's the worse for all this.
+
+OTHELLO	O, a thousand thousand times: and then, of so
+	gentle a condition!
+
+IAGO	Ay, too gentle.
+
+OTHELLO	Nay, that's certain: but yet the pity of it, Iago!
+	O Iago, the pity of it, Iago!
+
+IAGO	If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her
+	patent to offend; for, if it touch not you, it comes
+	near nobody.
+
+OTHELLO	I will chop her into messes: cuckold me!
+
+IAGO	O, 'tis foul in her.
+
+OTHELLO	With mine officer!
+
+IAGO	That's fouler.
+
+OTHELLO	Get me some poison, Iago; this night: I'll not
+	expostulate with her, lest her body and beauty
+	unprovide my mind again: this night, Iago.
+
+IAGO	Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, even
+	the bed she hath contaminated.
+
+OTHELLO	Good, good: the justice of it pleases: very good.
+
+IAGO	And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker: you
+	shall hear more by midnight.
+
+OTHELLO	Excellent good.
+
+	[A trumpet within]
+
+	What trumpet is that same?
+
+IAGO	Something from Venice, sure. 'Tis Lodovico
+	Come from the duke: and, see, your wife is with him.
+
+	[Enter LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants]
+
+LODOVICO	Save you, worthy general!
+
+OTHELLO	With all my heart, sir.
+
+LODOVICO	The duke and senators of Venice greet you.
+
+	[Gives him a letter]
+
+OTHELLO	I kiss the instrument of their pleasures.
+
+	[Opens the letter, and reads]
+
+DESDEMONA	And what's the news, good cousin Lodovico?
+
+IAGO	I am very glad to see you, signior
+	Welcome to Cyprus.
+
+LODOVICO	I thank you. How does Lieutenant Cassio?
+
+IAGO	Lives, sir.
+
+DESDEMONA	Cousin, there's fall'n between him and my lord
+	An unkind breach: but you shall make all well.
+
+OTHELLO	Are you sure of that?
+
+DESDEMONA	My lord?
+
+OTHELLO	[Reads]  'This fail you not to do, as you will--'
+
+LODOVICO	He did not call; he's busy in the paper.
+	Is there division 'twixt my lord and Cassio?
+
+DESDEMONA	A most unhappy one: I would do much
+	To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.
+
+OTHELLO	Fire and brimstone!
+
+DESDEMONA	My lord?
+
+OTHELLO	       Are you wise?
+
+DESDEMONA	What, is he angry?
+
+LODOVICO	                  May be the letter moved him;
+	For, as I think, they do command him home,
+	Deputing Cassio in his government.
+
+DESDEMONA	Trust me, I am glad on't.
+
+OTHELLO	Indeed!
+
+DESDEMONA	My lord?
+
+OTHELLO	I am glad to see you mad.
+
+DESDEMONA	Why, sweet Othello,--
+
+OTHELLO	[Striking her]  Devil!
+
+DESDEMONA	I have not deserved this.
+
+LODOVICO	My lord, this would not be believed in Venice,
+	Though I should swear I saw't: 'tis very much:
+	Make her amends; she weeps.
+
+OTHELLO	O devil, devil!
+	If that the earth could teem with woman's tears,
+	Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.
+	Out of my sight!
+
+DESDEMONA	I will not stay to offend you.
+
+	[Going]
+
+LODOVICO	Truly, an obedient lady:
+	I do beseech your lordship, call her back.
+
+OTHELLO	Mistress!
+
+DESDEMONA	        My lord?
+
+OTHELLO	What would you with her, sir?
+
+LODOVICO	Who, I, my lord?
+
+OTHELLO	Ay; you did wish that I would make her turn:
+	Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,
+	And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep;
+	And she's obedient, as you say, obedient,
+	Very obedient. Proceed you in your tears.
+	Concerning this, sir,--O  well-painted passion!--
+	I am commanded home. Get you away;
+	I'll send for you anon. Sir, I obey the mandate,
+	And will return to Venice. Hence, avaunt!
+
+	[Exit DESDEMONA]
+
+	Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, tonight,
+	I do entreat that we may sup together:
+	You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus.--Goats and monkeys!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+LODOVICO	Is this the noble Moor whom our full senate
+	Call all in all sufficient? Is this the nature
+	Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtue
+	The shot of accident, nor dart of chance,
+	Could neither graze nor pierce?
+
+IAGO	He is much changed.
+
+LODOVICO	Are his wits safe? is he not light of brain?
+
+IAGO	He's that he is: I may not breathe my censure
+	What he might be: if what he might he is not,
+	I would to heaven he were!
+
+LODOVICO	What, strike his wife!
+
+IAGO	'Faith, that was not so well; yet would I knew
+	That stroke would prove the worst!
+
+LODOVICO	Is it his use?
+	Or did the letters work upon his blood,
+	And new-create this fault?
+
+IAGO	Alas, alas!
+	It is not honesty in me to speak
+	What I have seen and known. You shall observe him,
+	And his own courses will denote him so
+	That I may save my speech: do but go after,
+	And mark how he continues.
+
+LODOVICO	I am sorry that I am deceived in him.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+SCENE II	A room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter OTHELLO and EMILIA]
+
+OTHELLO	You have seen nothing then?
+
+EMILIA	Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect.
+
+OTHELLO	Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.
+
+EMILIA	But then I saw no harm, and then I heard
+	Each syllable that breath made up between them.
+
+OTHELLO	What, did they never whisper?
+
+EMILIA	Never, my lord.
+
+OTHELLO	Nor send you out o' the way?
+
+EMILIA	Never.
+
+OTHELLO	To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
+
+EMILIA	Never, my lord.
+
+OTHELLO	That's strange.
+
+EMILIA	I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest,
+	Lay down my soul at stake: if you think other,
+	Remove your thought; it doth abuse your bosom.
+	If any wretch have put this in your head,
+	Let heaven requite it with the serpent's curse!
+	For, if she be not honest, chaste, and true,
+	There's no man happy; the purest of their wives
+	Is foul as slander.
+
+OTHELLO	Bid her come hither: go.
+
+	[Exit EMILIA]
+
+	She says enough; yet she's a simple bawd
+	That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore,
+	A closet lock and key of villanous secrets
+	And yet she'll kneel and pray; I have seen her do't.
+
+	[Enter DESDEMONA with EMILIA]
+
+DESDEMONA	My lord, what is your will?
+
+OTHELLO	Pray, chuck, come hither.
+
+DESDEMONA	What is your pleasure?
+
+OTHELLO	Let me see your eyes;
+	Look in my face.
+
+DESDEMONA	                  What horrible fancy's this?
+
+OTHELLO	[To EMILIA]  Some of your function, mistress;
+	Leave procreants alone and shut the door;
+	Cough, or cry 'hem,' if any body come:
+	Your mystery, your mystery: nay, dispatch.
+
+	[Exit EMILIA]
+
+DESDEMONA	Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?
+	I understand a fury in your words.
+	But not the words.
+
+OTHELLO	Why, what art thou?
+
+DESDEMONA	Your wife, my lord; your true
+	And loyal wife.
+
+OTHELLO	                  Come, swear it, damn thyself
+	Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves
+	Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double damn'd:
+	Swear thou art honest.
+
+DESDEMONA	Heaven doth truly know it.
+
+OTHELLO	Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.
+
+DESDEMONA	To whom, my lord? with whom? how am I false?
+
+OTHELLO	O Desdemona! away! away! away!
+
+DESDEMONA	Alas the heavy day! Why do you weep?
+	Am I the motive of these tears, my lord?
+	If haply you my father do suspect
+	An instrument of this your calling back,
+	Lay not your blame on me: If you have lost him,
+	Why, I have lost him too.
+
+OTHELLO	Had it pleased heaven
+	To try me with affliction; had they rain'd
+	All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head.
+	Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips,
+	Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes,
+	I should have found in some place of my soul
+	A drop of patience: but, alas, to make me
+	A fixed figure for the time of scorn
+	To point his slow unmoving finger at!
+	Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
+	But there, where I have garner'd up my heart,
+	Where either I must live, or bear no life;
+	The fountain from the which my current runs,
+	Or else dries up; to be discarded thence!
+	Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads
+	To knot and gender in! Turn thy complexion there,
+	Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin,--
+	Ay, there, look grim as hell!
+
+DESDEMONA	I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
+
+OTHELLO	O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles,
+	That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed,
+	Who art so lovely fair and smell'st so sweet
+	That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst
+	ne'er been born!
+
+DESDEMONA	Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
+
+OTHELLO	Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
+	Made to write 'whore' upon? What committed!
+	Committed! O thou public commoner!
+	I should make very forges of my cheeks,
+	That would to cinders burn up modesty,
+	Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed!
+	Heaven stops the nose at it and the moon winks,
+	The bawdy wind that kisses all it meets
+	Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth,
+	And will not hear it. What committed!
+	Impudent strumpet!
+
+DESDEMONA	                  By heaven, you do me wrong.
+
+OTHELLO	Are you not a strumpet?
+
+DESDEMONA	No, as I am a Christian:
+	If to preserve this vessel for my lord
+	From any other foul unlawful touch
+	Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
+
+OTHELLO	What, not a whore?
+
+DESDEMONA	                  No, as I shall be saved.
+
+OTHELLO	Is't possible?
+
+DESDEMONA	                  O, heaven forgive us!
+
+OTHELLO	I cry you mercy, then:
+	I took you for that cunning whore of Venice
+	That married with Othello.
+
+	[Raising his voice]
+
+		     You, mistress,
+	That have the office opposite to Saint Peter,
+	And keep the gate of hell!
+
+	[Re-enter EMILIA]
+
+		     You, you, ay, you!
+	We have done our course; there's money for your pains:
+	I pray you, turn the key and keep our counsel.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+EMILIA	Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?
+	How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady?
+
+DESDEMONA	'Faith, half asleep.
+
+EMILIA	Good madam, what's the matter with my lord?
+
+DESDEMONA	With who?
+
+EMILIA	Why, with my lord, madam.
+
+DESDEMONA	Who is thy lord?
+
+EMILIA	                  He that is yours, sweet lady.
+
+DESDEMONA	I have none: do not talk to me, Emilia;
+	I cannot weep; nor answer have I none,
+	But what should go by water. Prithee, tonight
+	Lay on my bed my wedding sheets: remember;
+	And call thy husband hither.
+
+EMILIA	Here's a change indeed!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+DESDEMONA	'Tis meet I should be used so, very meet.
+	How have I been behaved, that he might stick
+	The small'st opinion on my least misuse?
+
+	[Re-enter EMILIA with IAGO]
+
+IAGO	What is your pleasure, madam?
+	How is't with you?
+
+DESDEMONA	I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes
+	Do it with gentle means and easy tasks:
+	He might have chid me so; for, in good faith,
+	I am a child to chiding.
+
+IAGO	What's the matter, lady?
+
+EMILIA	Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhored her.
+	Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her,
+	As true hearts cannot bear.
+
+DESDEMONA	Am I that name, Iago?
+
+IAGO	What name, fair lady?
+
+DESDEMONA	Such as she says my lord did say I was.
+
+EMILIA	He call'd her whore: a beggar in his drink
+	Could not have laid such terms upon his callat.
+
+IAGO	Why did he so?
+
+DESDEMONA	I do not know; I am sure I am none such.
+
+IAGO	Do not weep, do not weep. Alas the day!
+
+EMILIA	Hath she forsook so many noble matches,
+	Her father and her country and her friends,
+	To be call'd whore? would it not make one weep?
+
+DESDEMONA	It is my wretched fortune.
+
+IAGO	Beshrew him for't!
+	How comes this trick upon him?
+
+DESDEMONA	Nay, heaven doth know.
+
+EMILIA	I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain,
+	Some busy and insinuating rogue,
+	Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office,
+	Have not devised this slander; I'll be hang'd else.
+
+IAGO	Fie, there is no such man; it is impossible.
+
+DESDEMONA	If any such there be, heaven pardon him!
+
+EMILIA	A halter pardon him! and hell gnaw his bones!
+	Why should he call her whore? who keeps her company?
+	What place? what time? what form? what likelihood?
+	The Moor's abused by some most villanous knave,
+	Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.
+	O heaven, that such companions thou'ldst unfold,
+	And put in every honest hand a whip
+	To lash the rascals naked through the world
+	Even from the east to the west!
+
+IAGO	Speak within door.
+
+EMILIA	O, fie upon them! Some such squire he was
+	That turn'd your wit the seamy side without,
+	And made you to suspect me with the Moor.
+
+IAGO	You are a fool; go to.
+
+DESDEMONA	O good Iago,
+	What shall I do to win my lord again?
+	Good friend, go to him; for, by this light of heaven,
+	I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel:
+	If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love,
+	Either in discourse of thought or actual deed,
+	Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,
+	Delighted them in any other form;
+	Or that I do not yet, and ever did.
+	And ever will--though he do shake me off
+	To beggarly divorcement--love him dearly,
+	Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much;
+	And his unkindness may defeat my life,
+	But never taint my love. I cannot say 'whore:'
+	It does abhor me now I speak the word;
+	To do the act that might the addition earn
+	Not the world's mass of vanity could make me.
+
+IAGO	I pray you, be content; 'tis but his humour:
+	The business of the state does him offence,
+	And he does chide with you.
+
+DESDEMONA	If 'twere no other--
+
+IAGO	'Tis but so, I warrant.
+
+	[Trumpets within]
+
+	Hark, how these instruments summon to supper!
+	The messengers of Venice stay the meat;
+	Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well.
+
+	[Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA]
+
+	[Enter RODERIGO]
+
+	How now, Roderigo!
+
+RODERIGO	I do not find that thou dealest justly with me.
+
+IAGO	What in the contrary?
+
+RODERIGO	Every day thou daffest me with some device, Iago;
+	and rather, as it seems to me now, keepest from me
+	all conveniency than suppliest me with the least
+	advantage of hope. I will indeed no longer endure
+	it, nor am I yet persuaded to put up in peace what
+	already I have foolishly suffered.
+
+IAGO	Will you hear me, Roderigo?
+
+RODERIGO	'Faith, I have heard too much, for your words and
+	performances are no kin together.
+
+IAGO	You charge me most unjustly.
+
+RODERIGO	With nought but truth. I have wasted myself out of
+	my means. The jewels you have had from me to
+	deliver to Desdemona would half have corrupted a
+	votarist: you have told me she hath received them
+	and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden
+	respect and acquaintance, but I find none.
+
+IAGO	Well; go to; very well.
+
+RODERIGO	Very well! go to! I cannot go to, man; nor 'tis
+	not very well: nay, I think it is scurvy, and begin
+	to find myself fobbed in it.
+
+IAGO	Very well.
+
+RODERIGO	I tell you 'tis not very well. I will make myself
+	known to Desdemona: if she will return me my
+	jewels, I will give over my suit and repent my
+	unlawful solicitation; if not, assure yourself I
+	will seek satisfaction of you.
+
+IAGO	You have said now.
+
+RODERIGO	Ay, and said nothing but what I protest intendment of doing.
+
+IAGO	Why, now I see there's mettle in thee, and even from
+	this instant to build on thee a better opinion than
+	ever before. Give me thy hand, Roderigo: thou hast
+	taken against me a most just exception; but yet, I
+	protest, I have dealt most directly in thy affair.
+
+RODERIGO	It hath not appeared.
+
+IAGO	I grant indeed it hath not appeared, and your
+	suspicion is not without wit and judgment. But,
+	Roderigo, if thou hast that in thee indeed, which I
+	have greater reason to believe now than ever, I mean
+	purpose, courage and valour, this night show it: if
+	thou the next night following enjoy not Desdemona,
+	take me from this world with treachery and devise
+	engines for my life.
+
+RODERIGO	Well, what is it? is it within reason and compass?
+
+IAGO	Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice
+	to depute Cassio in Othello's place.
+
+RODERIGO	Is that true? why, then Othello and Desdemona
+	return again to Venice.
+
+IAGO	O, no; he goes into Mauritania and takes away with
+	him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be
+	lingered here by some accident: wherein none can be
+	so determinate as the removing of Cassio.
+
+RODERIGO	How do you mean, removing of him?
+
+IAGO	Why, by making him uncapable of Othello's place;
+	knocking out his brains.
+
+RODERIGO	And that you would have me to do?
+
+IAGO	Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right.
+	He sups to-night with a harlotry, and thither will I
+	go to him: he knows not yet of his horrorable
+	fortune. If you will watch his going thence, which
+	I will fashion to fall out between twelve and one,
+	you may take him at your pleasure: I will be near
+	to second your attempt, and he shall fall between
+	us. Come, stand not amazed at it, but go along with
+	me; I will show you such a necessity in his death
+	that you shall think yourself bound to put it on
+	him. It is now high suppertime, and the night grows
+	to waste: about it.
+
+RODERIGO	I will hear further reason for this.
+
+IAGO	And you shall be satisfied.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Another room in the castle.
+
+
+	[Enter OTHELLO, LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, EMILIA and
+	Attendants]
+
+LODOVICO	I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further.
+
+OTHELLO	O, pardon me: 'twill do me good to walk.
+
+LODOVICO	Madam, good night; I humbly thank your ladyship.
+
+DESDEMONA	Your honour is most welcome.
+
+OTHELLO	Will you walk, sir?
+	O,--Desdemona,--
+
+DESDEMONA	My lord?
+
+OTHELLO	Get you to bed on the instant; I will be returned
+	forthwith: dismiss your attendant there: look it be done.
+
+DESDEMONA	I will, my lord.
+
+	[Exeunt OTHELLO, LODOVICO, and Attendants]
+
+EMILIA	How goes it now? he looks gentler than he did.
+
+DESDEMONA	He says he will return incontinent:
+	He hath commanded me to go to bed,
+	And bade me to dismiss you.
+
+EMILIA	Dismiss me!
+
+DESDEMONA	It was his bidding: therefore, good Emilia,.
+	Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu:
+	We must not now displease him.
+
+EMILIA	I would you had never seen him!
+
+DESDEMONA	So would not I	my love doth so approve him,
+	That even his stubbornness, his cheques, his frowns--
+	Prithee, unpin me,--have grace and favour in them.
+
+EMILIA	I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.
+
+DESDEMONA	All's one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds!
+	If I do die before thee prithee, shroud me
+	In one of those same sheets.
+
+EMILIA	Come, come you talk.
+
+DESDEMONA	My mother had a maid call'd Barbara:
+	She was in love, and he she loved proved mad
+	And did forsake her: she had a song of 'willow;'
+	An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune,
+	And she died singing it: that song to-night
+	Will not go from my mind; I have much to do,
+	But to go hang my head all at one side,
+	And sing it like poor Barbara. Prithee, dispatch.
+
+EMILIA	Shall I go fetch your night-gown?
+
+DESDEMONA	No, unpin me here.
+	This Lodovico is a proper man.
+
+EMILIA	A very handsome man.
+
+DESDEMONA	He speaks well.
+
+EMILIA	I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot
+	to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
+
+DESDEMONA	[Singing]  The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
+	Sing all a green willow:
+	Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
+	Sing willow, willow, willow:
+	The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans;
+	Sing willow, willow, willow;
+	Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones;
+	Lay by these:--
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	Sing willow, willow, willow;
+	Prithee, hie thee; he'll come anon:--
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	Sing all a green willow must be my garland.
+	Let nobody blame him; his scorn I approve,-
+	Nay, that's not next.--Hark! who is't that knocks?
+
+EMILIA	It's the wind.
+
+DESDEMONA	[Singing]  I call'd my love false love; but what
+	said he then?
+	Sing willow, willow, willow:
+	If I court moe women, you'll couch with moe men!
+	So, get thee gone; good night Ate eyes do itch;
+	Doth that bode weeping?
+
+EMILIA	'Tis neither here nor there.
+
+DESDEMONA	I have heard it said so. O, these men, these men!
+	Dost thou in conscience think,--tell me, Emilia,--
+	That there be women do abuse their husbands
+	In such gross kind?
+
+EMILIA	There be some such, no question.
+
+DESDEMONA	Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
+
+EMILIA	Why, would not you?
+
+DESDEMONA	No, by this heavenly light!
+
+EMILIA	Nor I neither by this heavenly light;
+	I might do't as well i' the dark.
+
+DESDEMONA	Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
+
+EMILIA	The world's a huge thing: it is a great price.
+	For a small vice.
+
+DESDEMONA	In troth, I think thou wouldst not.
+
+EMILIA	In troth, I think I should; and undo't when I had
+	done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a
+	joint-ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor for
+	gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty
+	exhibition; but for the whole world,--why, who would
+	not make her husband a cuckold to make him a
+	monarch? I should venture purgatory for't.
+
+DESDEMONA	Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong
+	For the whole world.
+
+EMILIA	Why the wrong is but a wrong i' the world: and
+	having the world for your labour, tis a wrong in your
+	own world, and you might quickly make it right.
+
+DESDEMONA	I do not think there is any such woman.
+
+EMILIA	Yes, a dozen; and as many to the vantage as would
+	store the world they played for.
+	But I do think it is their husbands' faults
+	If wives do fall: say that they slack their duties,
+	And pour our treasures into foreign laps,
+	Or else break out in peevish jealousies,
+	Throwing restraint upon us; or say they strike us,
+	Or scant our former having in despite;
+	Why, we have galls, and though we have some grace,
+	Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know
+	Their wives have sense like them: they see and smell
+	And have their palates both for sweet and sour,
+	As husbands have. What is it that they do
+	When they change us for others? Is it sport?
+	I think it is: and doth affection breed it?
+	I think it doth: is't frailty that thus errs?
+	It is so too: and have not we affections,
+	Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have?
+	Then let them use us well: else let them know,
+	The ills we do, their ills instruct us so.
+
+DESDEMONA	Good night, good night: heaven me such uses send,
+	Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Cyprus. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter IAGO and RODERIGO]
+
+IAGO	Here, stand behind this bulk; straight will he come:
+	Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home:
+	Quick, quick; fear nothing; I'll be at thy elbow:
+	It makes us, or it mars us; think on that,
+	And fix most firm thy resolution.
+
+RODERIGO	Be near at hand; I may miscarry in't.
+
+IAGO	Here, at thy hand: be bold, and take thy stand.
+
+	[Retires]
+
+RODERIGO	I have no great devotion to the deed;
+	And yet he hath given me satisfying reasons:
+	'Tis but a man gone. Forth, my sword: he dies.
+
+IAGO	I have rubb'd this young quat almost to the sense,
+	And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio,
+	Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other,
+	Every way makes my gain: live Roderigo,
+	He calls me to a restitution large
+	Of gold and jewels that I bobb'd from him,
+	As gifts to Desdemona;
+	It must not be: if Cassio do remain,
+	He hath a daily beauty in his life
+	That makes me ugly; and, besides, the Moor
+	May unfold me to him; there stand I in much peril:
+	No, he must die. But so: I hear him coming.
+
+	[Enter CASSIO]
+
+RODERIGO	I know his gait, 'tis he.--Villain, thou diest!
+
+	[Makes a pass at CASSIO]
+
+CASSIO	That thrust had been mine enemy indeed,
+	But that my coat is better than thou know'st
+	I will make proof of thine.
+
+	[Draws, and wounds RODERIGO]
+
+RODERIGO	O, I am slain!
+
+	[IAGO from behind wounds CASSIO in the leg, and exit]
+
+CASSIO	I am maim'd for ever. Help, ho! murder! murder!
+
+	[Falls]
+
+	[Enter OTHELLO]
+
+OTHELLO	The voice of Cassio: Iago keeps his word.
+
+RODERIGO	O, villain that I am!
+
+OTHELLO	It is even so.
+
+CASSIO	O, help, ho! light! a surgeon!
+
+OTHELLO	'Tis he:--O brave Iago, honest and just,
+	That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong!
+	Thou teachest me. Minion, your dear lies dead,
+	And your unblest fate hies: strumpet, I come.
+	Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted;
+	Thy bed, lust-stain'd, shall with lust's blood be spotted.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter LODOVICO and GRATIANO]
+
+CASSIO	What, ho! no watch? no passage? murder! murder!
+
+GRATIANO	'Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful.
+
+CASSIO	O, help!
+
+LODOVICO	Hark!
+
+RODERIGO	O wretched villain!
+
+LODOVICO	Two or three groan: it is a heavy night:
+	These may be counterfeits: let's think't unsafe
+	To come in to the cry without more help.
+
+RODERIGO	Nobody come? then shall I bleed to death.
+
+LODOVICO	Hark!
+
+	[Re-enter IAGO, with a light]
+
+GRATIANO	Here's one comes in his shirt, with light and weapons.
+
+IAGO	Who's there? whose noise is this that ones on murder?
+
+LODOVICO	We do not know.
+
+IAGO	                  Did not you hear a cry?
+
+CASSIO	Here, here! for heaven's sake, help me!
+
+IAGO	What's the matter?
+
+GRATIANO	This is Othello's ancient, as I take it.
+
+LODOVICO	The same indeed; a very valiant fellow.
+
+IAGO	What are you here that cry so grievously?
+
+CASSIO	Iago? O, I am spoil'd, undone by villains!
+	Give me some help.
+
+IAGO	O me, lieutenant! what villains have done this?
+
+CASSIO	I think that one of them is hereabout,
+	And cannot make away.
+
+IAGO	O treacherous villains!
+	What are you there? come in, and give some help.
+
+	[To LODOVICO and GRATIANO]
+
+RODERIGO	O, help me here!
+
+CASSIO	That's one of them.
+
+IAGO	O murderous slave! O villain!
+
+	[Stabs RODERIGO]
+
+RODERIGO	O damn'd Iago! O inhuman dog!
+
+IAGO	Kill men i' the dark!--Where be these bloody thieves?--
+	How silent is this town!--Ho! murder! murder!--
+	What may you be? are you of good or evil?
+
+LODOVICO	As you shall prove us, praise us.
+
+IAGO	Signior Lodovico?
+
+LODOVICO	He, sir.
+
+IAGO	I cry you mercy. Here's Cassio hurt by villains.
+
+GRATIANO	Cassio!
+
+IAGO	How is't, brother!
+
+CASSIO	My leg is cut in two.
+
+IAGO	Marry, heaven forbid!
+	Light, gentlemen; I'll bind it with my shirt.
+
+	[Enter BIANCA]
+
+BIANCA	What is the matter, ho? who is't that cried?
+
+IAGO	Who is't that cried!
+
+BIANCA	O my dear Cassio! my sweet Cassio! O Cassio,
+	Cassio, Cassio!
+
+IAGO	O notable strumpet! Cassio, may you suspect
+	Who they should be that have thus many led you?
+
+CASSIO	No.
+
+GRATIANO	I am to find you thus: I have been to seek you.
+
+IAGO	Lend me a garter. So. O, for a chair,
+	To bear him easily hence!
+
+BIANCA	Alas, he faints! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!
+
+IAGO	Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash
+	To be a party in this injury.
+	Patience awhile, good Cassio. Come, come;
+	Lend me a light. Know we this face or no?
+	Alas my friend and my dear countryman
+	Roderigo! no:--yes, sure: O heaven! Roderigo.
+
+GRATIANO	What, of Venice?
+
+IAGO	Even he, sir; did you know him?
+
+GRATIANO	Know him! ay.
+
+IAGO	Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon;
+	These bloody accidents must excuse my manners,
+	That so neglected you.
+
+GRATIANO	I am glad to see you.
+
+IAGO	How do you, Cassio? O, a chair, a chair!
+
+GRATIANO	Roderigo!
+
+IAGO	He, he 'tis he.
+
+	[A chair brought in]
+
+	O, that's well said; the chair!
+
+GRATIANO	Some good man bear him carefully from hence;
+	I'll fetch the general's surgeon.
+
+	[To BIANCA]
+
+		                  For you, mistress,
+	Save you your labour. He that lies slain
+	here, Cassio,
+	Was my dear friend: what malice was between you?
+
+CASSIO	None in the world; nor do I know the man.
+
+IAGO	[To BIANCA]  What, look you pale? O, bear him out
+	o' the air.
+
+	[CASSIO and RODERIGO are borne off]
+
+	Stay you, good gentlemen. Look you pale, mistress?
+	Do you perceive the gastness of her eye?
+	Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon.
+	Behold her well; I pray you, look upon her:
+	Do you see, gentlemen? nay, guiltiness will speak,
+	Though tongues were out of use.
+
+	[Enter EMILIA]
+
+EMILIA	'Las, what's the matter? what's the matter, husband?
+
+IAGO	Cassio hath here been set on in the dark
+	By Roderigo and fellows that are scaped:
+	He's almost slain, and Roderigo dead.
+
+EMILIA	Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio!
+
+IAGO	This is the fruit of whoring. Prithee, Emilia,
+	Go know of Cassio where he supp'd to-night.
+
+	[To BIANCA]
+
+	What, do you shake at that?
+
+BIANCA	He supp'd at my house; but I therefore shake not.
+
+IAGO	O, did he so? I charge you, go with me.
+
+EMILIA	Fie, fie upon thee, strumpet!
+
+BIANCA	I am no strumpet; but of life as honest
+	As you that thus abuse me.
+
+EMILIA	As I! foh! fie upon thee!
+
+IAGO	Kind gentlemen, let's go see poor Cassio dress'd.
+	Come, mistress, you must tell's another tale.
+	Emilia run you to the citadel,
+	And tell my lord and lady what hath happ'd.
+	Will you go on? I pray.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+		   This is the night
+	That either makes me or fordoes me quite.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	OTHELLO
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A bedchamber in the castle: DESDEMONA in bed asleep;
+	a light burning.
+
+
+	[Enter OTHELLO]
+
+OTHELLO	It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,--
+	Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars!--
+	It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood;
+	Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
+	And smooth as monumental alabaster.
+	Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
+	Put out the light, and then put out the light:
+	If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
+	I can again thy former light restore,
+	Should I repent me: but once put out thy light,
+	Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
+	I know not where is that Promethean heat
+	That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd the rose,
+	I cannot give it vital growth again.
+	It must needs wither: I'll smell it on the tree.
+
+	[Kissing her]
+
+	Ah balmy breath, that dost almost persuade
+	Justice to break her sword! One more, one more.
+	Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
+	And love thee after. One more, and this the last:
+	So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep,
+	But they are cruel tears: this sorrow's heavenly;
+	It strikes where it doth love. She wakes.
+
+DESDEMONA	Who's there? Othello?
+
+OTHELLO	Ay. Desdemona.
+
+DESDEMONA	Will you come to bed, my lord?
+
+OTHELLO	Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona?
+
+DESDEMONA	Ay, my lord.
+
+OTHELLO	If you bethink yourself of any crime
+	Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace,
+	Solicit for it straight.
+
+DESDEMONA	Alas, my lord, what do you mean by that?
+
+OTHELLO	Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by:
+	I would not kill thy unprepared spirit;
+	No; heaven forfend! I would not kill thy soul.
+
+DESDEMONA	Talk you of killing?
+
+OTHELLO	Ay, I do.
+
+DESDEMONA	Then heaven
+	Have mercy on me!
+
+OTHELLO	                  Amen, with all my heart!
+
+DESDEMONA	If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
+
+OTHELLO	Hum!
+
+DESDEMONA	And yet I fear you; for you are fatal then
+	When your eyes roll so: why I should fear I know not,
+	Since guiltiness I know not; but yet I feel I fear.
+
+OTHELLO	Think on thy sins.
+
+DESDEMONA	                  They are loves I bear to you.
+
+OTHELLO	Ay, and for that thou diest.
+
+DESDEMONA	That death's unnatural that kills for loving.
+	Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
+	Some bloody passion shakes your very frame:
+	These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope,
+	They do not point on me.
+
+OTHELLO	Peace, and be still!
+
+DESDEMONA	I will so. What's the matter?
+
+OTHELLO	That handkerchief which I so loved and gave thee
+	Thou gavest to Cassio.
+
+DESDEMONA	No, by my life and soul!
+	Send for the man, and ask him.
+
+OTHELLO	Sweet soul, take heed,
+	Take heed of perjury; thou art on thy deathbed.
+
+DESDEMONA	Ay, but not yet to die.
+
+OTHELLO	Yes, presently:
+	Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin;
+	For to deny each article with oath
+	Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception
+	That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
+
+DESDEMONA	Then Lord have mercy on me!
+
+OTHELLO	I say, amen.
+
+DESDEMONA	And have you mercy too! I never did
+	Offend you in my life; never loved Cassio
+	But with such general warranty of heaven
+	As I might love: I never gave him token.
+
+OTHELLO	By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in's hand.
+	O perjured woman! thou dost stone my heart,
+	And makest me call what I intend to do
+	A murder, which I thought a sacrifice:
+	I saw the handkerchief.
+
+DESDEMONA	He found it then;
+	I never gave it him: send for him hither;
+	Let him confess a truth.
+
+OTHELLO	He hath confess'd.
+
+DESDEMONA	What, my lord?
+
+OTHELLO	That he hath used thee.
+
+DESDEMONA	How? unlawfully?
+
+OTHELLO	Ay.
+
+DESDEMONA	He will not say so.
+
+OTHELLO	No, his mouth is stopp'd;
+	Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't.
+
+DESDEMONA	O! my fear interprets: what, is he dead?
+
+OTHELLO	Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge
+	Had stomach for them all.
+
+DESDEMONA	Alas! he is betray'd and I undone.
+
+OTHELLO	Out, strumpet! weep'st thou for him to my face?
+
+DESDEMONA	O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!
+
+OTHELLO	Down, strumpet!
+
+DESDEMONA	Kill me to-morrow: let me live to-night!
+
+OTHELLO	Nay, if you strive--
+
+DESDEMONA	But half an hour!
+
+OTHELLO	                  Being done, there is no pause.
+
+DESDEMONA	But while I say one prayer!
+
+OTHELLO	It is too late.
+
+	[He stifles her]
+
+EMILIA	[Within]  My lord, my lord! what, ho! my lord, my lord!
+
+OTHELLO	What noise is this? Not dead? not yet quite dead?
+	I that am cruel am yet merciful;
+	I would not have thee linger in thy pain: So, so.
+
+EMILIA	[Within]  What, ho! my lord, my lord!
+
+OTHELLO	Who's there?
+
+EMILIA	[Within]  O, good my lord, I would speak a word with you!
+
+OTHELLO	Yes: 'tis Emilia. By and by. She's dead.
+	'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death.--
+	The noise was here. Ha! no more moving?
+	Still as the grave. Shall she come in? were't good?--
+	I think she stirs again:--no. What's best to do?
+	If she come in, she'll sure speak to my wife:
+	My wife! my wife! what wife? I have no wife.
+	O insupportable! O heavy hour!
+	Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse
+	Of sun and moon, and that the affrighted globe
+	Should yawn at alteration.
+
+EMILIA	[Within]  I do beseech you
+	That I may speak with you, O, good my lord!
+
+OTHELLO	I had forgot thee: O, come in, Emilia;
+	Soft; by and by. Let me the curtains draw.
+	Where art thou?
+
+	[Unlocks the door]
+
+	[Enter EMILIA]
+
+	What's the matter with thee now?
+
+EMILIA	O, my good lord, yonder's foul murders done!
+
+OTHELLO	What, now?
+
+EMILIA	But now, my lord.
+
+OTHELLO	It is the very error of the moon;
+	She comes more nearer earth than she was wont,
+	And makes men mad.
+
+EMILIA	Cassio, my lord, hath kill'd a young Venetian
+	Call'd Roderigo.
+
+OTHELLO	                  Roderigo kill'd!
+	And Cassio kill'd!
+
+EMILIA	No, Cassio is not kill'd.
+
+OTHELLO	Not Cassio kill'd! then murder's out of tune,
+	And sweet revenge grows harsh.
+
+DESDEMONA	O, falsely, falsely murder'd!
+
+EMILIA	Alas, what cry is that?
+
+OTHELLO	That! what?
+
+EMILIA	Out, and alas! that was my lady's voice.
+	Help! help, ho! help! O lady, speak again!
+	Sweet Desdemona! O sweet mistress, speak!
+
+DESDEMONA	A guiltless death I die.
+
+EMILIA	O, who hath done this deed?
+
+DESDEMONA	Nobody; I myself. Farewell
+	Commend me to my kind lord: O, farewell!
+
+	[Dies]
+
+OTHELLO	Why, how should she be murder'd?
+
+EMILIA	Alas, who knows?
+
+OTHELLO	You heard her say herself, it was not I.
+
+EMILIA	She said so: I must needs report the truth.
+
+OTHELLO	She's, like a liar, gone to burning hell:
+	'Twas I that kill'd her.
+
+EMILIA	O, the more angel she,
+	And you the blacker devil!
+
+OTHELLO	She turn'd to folly, and she was a whore.
+
+EMILIA	Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil.
+
+OTHELLO	She was false as water.
+
+EMILIA	Thou art rash as fire, to say
+	That she was false: O, she was heavenly true!
+
+OTHELLO	Cassio did top her; ask thy husband else.
+	O, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell,
+	But that I did proceed upon just grounds
+	To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all.
+
+EMILIA	My husband!
+
+OTHELLO	Thy husband.
+
+EMILIA	That she was false to wedlock?
+
+OTHELLO	Ay, with Cassio. Nay, had she been true,
+	If heaven would make me such another world
+	Of one entire and Perfect chrysolite,
+	I'ld not have sold her for it.
+
+EMILIA	My husband!
+
+OTHELLO	          Ay, 'twas he that told me first:
+	An honest man he is, and hates the slime
+	That sticks on filthy deeds.
+
+EMILIA	My husband!
+
+OTHELLO	What needs this iteration, woman? I say thy husband.
+
+EMILIA	O mistress, villany hath made mocks with love,
+	My husband say that she was false!
+
+OTHELLO	He, woman;
+	I say thy husband: dost understand the word?
+	My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago.
+
+EMILIA	If he say so, may his pernicious soul
+	Rot half a grain a day! he lies to the heart:
+	She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.
+
+OTHELLO	Ha!
+
+EMILIA	Do thy worst:
+	This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven
+	Than thou wast worthy her.
+
+OTHELLO	Peace, you were best.
+
+EMILIA	Thou hast not half that power to do me harm
+	As I have to be hurt. O gull! O dolt!
+	As ignorant as dirt! thou hast done a deed--
+	I care not for thy sword; I'll make thee known,
+	Though I lost twenty lives.--Help! help, ho! help!
+	The Moor hath kill'd my mistress! Murder! murder!
+
+	[Enter MONTANO, GRATIANO, IAGO, and others]
+
+MONTANO	What is the matter? How now, general!
+
+EMILIA	O, are you come, Iago? you have done well,
+	That men must lay their murders on your neck.
+
+GRATIANO	What is the matter?
+
+EMILIA	Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man:
+	He says thou told'st him that his wife was false:
+	I know thou didst not, thou'rt not such a villain:
+	Speak, for my heart is full.
+
+IAGO	I told him what I thought, and told no more
+	Than what he found himself was apt and true.
+
+EMILIA	But did you ever tell him she was false?
+
+IAGO	I did.
+
+EMILIA	You told a lie, an odious, damned lie;
+	Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie.
+	She false with Cassio!--did you say with Cassio?
+
+IAGO	With Cassio, mistress. Go to, charm your tongue.
+
+EMILIA	I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak:
+	My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed,--
+
+All	O heavens forfend!
+
+EMILIA	And your reports have set the murder on.
+
+OTHELLO	Nay, stare not, masters: it is true, indeed.
+
+GRATIANO	'Tis a strange truth.
+
+MONTANO	O monstrous act!
+
+EMILIA	                  Villany, villany, villany!
+	I think upon't, I think: I smell't: O villany!--
+	I thought so then:--I'll kill myself for grief:--
+	O villany, villany!
+
+IAGO	What, are you mad? I charge you, get you home.
+
+EMILIA	Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak:
+
+	'Tis proper I obey him, but not now.
+	Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home.
+
+OTHELLO	O! O! O!
+
+	[He falls on the bed]
+
+EMILIA	       Nay, lay thee down and roar;
+	For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent
+	That e'er did lift up eye.
+
+OTHELLO	[Rising]  O, she was foul!
+	I scarce did know you, uncle: there lies your niece,
+	Whose breath, indeed, these hands have newly stopp'd:
+	I know this act shows horrible and grim.
+
+GRATIANO	Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's dead:
+	Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief
+	Shore his old thread in twain: did he live now,
+	This sight would make him do a desperate turn,
+	Yea, curse his better angel from his side,
+	And fall to reprobation.
+
+OTHELLO	'Tis pitiful; but yet Iago knows
+	That she with Cassio hath the act of shame
+	A thousand times committed; Cassio confess'd it:
+	And she did gratify his amorous works
+	With that recognizance and pledge of love
+	Which I first gave her; I saw it in his hand:
+	It was a handkerchief, an antique token
+	My father gave my mother.
+
+EMILIA	O heaven! O heavenly powers!
+
+IAGO	Come, hold your peace.
+
+EMILIA	'Twill out, 'twill out: I peace!
+	No, I will speak as liberal as the north:
+	Let heaven and men and devils, let them all,
+	All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.
+
+IAGO	Be wise, and get you home.
+
+EMILIA	I will not.
+
+	[IAGO offers to stab EMILIA]
+
+GRATIANO	Fie!
+	Your sword upon a woman?
+
+EMILIA	O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou speak'st of
+	I found by fortune and did give my husband;
+	For often, with a solemn earnestness,
+	More than indeed belong'd to such a trifle,
+	He begg'd of me to steal it.
+
+IAGO	Villanous whore!
+
+EMILIA	She give it Cassio! no, alas! I found it,
+	And I did give't my husband.
+
+IAGO	Filth, thou liest!
+
+EMILIA	By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen.
+	O murderous coxcomb! what should such a fool
+	Do with so good a woman?
+
+OTHELLO	Are there no stones in heaven
+	But what serve for the thunder?--Precious villain!
+
+	[He runs at IAGO  IAGO, from behind, stabs EMILIA, and exit]
+
+GRATIANO	The woman falls; sure, he hath kill'd his wife.
+
+EMILIA	Ay, ay: O, lay me by my mistress' side.
+
+GRATIANO	He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.
+
+MONTANO	'Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon,
+	Which I have here recover'd from the Moor:
+	Come, guard the door without; let him not pass,
+	But kill him rather. I'll after that same villain,
+	For 'tis a damned slave.
+
+	[Exeunt MONTANO and GRATIANO]
+
+OTHELLO	I am not valiant neither,
+	But ever puny whipster gets my sword:
+	But why should honour outlive honesty?
+	Let it go all.
+
+EMILIA	What did thy song bode, lady?
+	Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan.
+	And die in music.
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	Willow, willow, willow,--
+	Moor, she was chaste; she loved thee, cruel Moor;
+	So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;
+	So speaking as I think, I die, I die.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+OTHELLO	I have another weapon in this chamber;
+	It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper:--
+	O, here it is. Uncle, I must come forth.
+
+GRATIANO	[Within]  If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear:
+	Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.
+
+OTHELLO	Look in upon me then and speak with me,
+	Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.
+
+	[Re-enter GRATIANO]
+
+GRATIANO	What is the matter?
+
+OTHELLO	Behold, I have a weapon;
+	A better never did itself sustain
+	Upon a soldier's thigh: I have seen the day,
+	That, with this little arm and this good sword,
+	I have made my way through more impediments
+	Than twenty times your stop: but, O vain boast!
+	Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now.
+	Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd;
+	Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
+	And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.
+	Do you go back dismay'd? 'tis a lost fear;
+	Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
+	And he retires. Where should Othello go?
+	Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench!
+	Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt,
+	This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven,
+	And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl!
+	Even like thy chastity. O cursed slave!
+	Whip me, ye devils,
+	From the possession of this heavenly sight!
+	Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur!
+	Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!
+	O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead!
+	Oh! Oh! Oh!
+
+	[Enter LODOVICO. MONTANO, CASSIO carried in a chair,
+	and Officers with IAGO, prisoner]
+
+LODOVICO	Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?
+
+OTHELLO	That's he that was Othello: here I am.
+
+LODOVICO	Where is that viper? bring the villain forth.
+
+OTHELLO	I look down towards his feet; but that's a fable.
+	If that thou best a devil, I cannot kill thee.
+
+	[Wounds IAGO]
+
+LODOVICO	Wrench his sword from him.
+
+IAGO	I bleed, sir; but not kill'd.
+
+OTHELLO	I am not sorry neither: I'ld have thee live;
+	For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.
+
+LODOVICO	O thou Othello, thou wert once so good,
+	Fall'n in the practise of a damned slave,
+	What shall be said to thee?
+
+OTHELLO	Why, any thing:
+	An honourable murderer, if you will;
+	For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.
+
+LODOVICO	This wretch hath part confess'd his villany:
+	Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?
+
+OTHELLO	Ay.
+
+CASSIO	Dear general, I never gave you cause.
+
+OTHELLO	I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.
+	Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil
+	Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body?
+
+IAGO	Demand me nothing: what you know, you know:
+	From this time forth I never will speak word.
+
+LODOVICO	What, not to pray?
+
+GRATIANO	                  Torments will ope your lips.
+
+OTHELLO	Well, thou dost best.
+
+LODOVICO	Sir, you shall understand what hath befall'n,
+	Which, as I think, you know not. Here is a letter
+	Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo;
+	And here another: the one of them imports
+	The death of Cassio to be undertook
+	By Roderigo.
+
+OTHELLO	O villain!
+
+CASSIO	Most heathenish and most gross!
+
+LODOVICO	Now here's another discontented paper,
+	Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems,
+	Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain;
+	But that belike Iago in the interim
+	Came in and satisfied him.
+
+OTHELLO	O the pernicious caitiff!
+	How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief
+	That was my wife's?
+
+CASSIO	I found it in my chamber:
+	And he himself confess'd but even now
+	That there he dropp'd it for a special purpose
+	Which wrought to his desire.
+
+OTHELLO	O fool! fool! fool!
+
+CASSIO	There is besides in Roderigo's letter,
+	How he upbraids Iago, that he made him
+	Brave me upon the watch; whereon it came
+	That I was cast: and even but now he spake,
+	After long seeming dead, Iago hurt him,
+	Iago set him on.
+
+LODOVICO	You must forsake this room, and go with us:
+	Your power and your command is taken off,
+	And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave,
+	If there be any cunning cruelty
+	That can torment him much and hold him long,
+	It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest,
+	Till that the nature of your fault be known
+	To the Venetian state. Come, bring him away.
+
+OTHELLO	Soft you; a word or two before you go.
+	I have done the state some service, and they know't.
+	No more of that. I pray you, in your letters,
+	When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
+	Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,
+	Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak
+	Of one that loved not wisely but too well;
+	Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought
+	Perplex'd in the extreme; of one whose hand,
+	Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away
+	Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes,
+	Albeit unused to the melting mood,
+	Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees
+	Their medicinal gum. Set you down this;
+	And say besides, that in Aleppo once,
+	Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk
+	Beat a Venetian and traduced the state,
+	I took by the throat the circumcised dog,
+	And smote him, thus.
+
+	[Stabs himself]
+
+LODOVICO	O bloody period!
+
+GRATIANO	                  All that's spoke is marr'd.
+
+OTHELLO	I kiss'd thee ere I kill'd thee: no way but this;
+	Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
+
+	[Falls on the bed, and dies]
+
+CASSIO	This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon;
+	For he was great of heart.
+
+LODOVICO	[To IAGO]  O Spartan dog,
+	More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea!
+	Look on the tragic loading of this bed;
+	This is thy work: the object poisons sight;
+	Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house,
+	And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor,
+	For they succeed on you. To you, lord governor,
+	Remains the censure of this hellish villain;
+	The time, the place, the torture: O, enforce it!
+	Myself will straight aboard: and to the state
+	This heavy act with heavy heart relate.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+ESCALUS	prince of Verona. (PRINCE:)
+
+PARIS	a young nobleman, kinsman to the prince.
+
+
+MONTAGUE	|
+	|  heads of two houses at variance with each other.
+CAPULET	|
+
+
+	An old man, cousin to Capulet. (Second Capulet:)
+
+ROMEO	son to Montague.
+
+MERCUTIO	kinsman to the prince, and friend to Romeo.
+
+BENVOLIO	nephew to Montague, and friend to Romeo.
+
+TYBALT	nephew to Lady Capulet.
+
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	|
+	|  Franciscans.
+FRIAR JOHN	|
+
+
+BALTHASAR	servant to Romeo.
+
+
+SAMPSON	|
+	|  servants to Capulet.
+GREGORY	|
+
+
+PETER	servant to Juliet's nurse.
+
+ABRAHAM	servant to Montague.
+
+	An Apothecary. (Apothecary:)
+
+	Three Musicians.
+	(First Musician:)
+	(Second Musician:)
+	(Third Musician:)
+
+	Page to Paris; (PAGE:)  another Page; an officer.
+
+LADY MONTAGUE	wife to Montague.
+
+LADY CAPULET	wife to Capulet.
+
+JULIET	daughter to Capulet.
+
+	Nurse to Juliet. (Nurse:)
+
+	Citizens of Verona; several Men and Women,
+	relations to both houses; Maskers,
+	Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants.
+	(First Citizen:)
+	(Servant:)
+	(First Servant:)
+	(Second Servant:)
+	(First Watchman:)
+	(Second Watchman:)
+	(Third Watchman:)
+	Chorus.
+
+
+SCENE	Verona: Mantua.
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+	PROLOGUE
+
+
+	Two households, both alike in dignity,
+	In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
+	From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
+	Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
+	From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
+	A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
+	Whole misadventured piteous overthrows
+	Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
+	The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
+	And the continuance of their parents' rage,
+	Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
+	Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
+	The which if you with patient ears attend,
+	What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Verona. A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet,
+	armed with swords and bucklers]
+
+SAMPSON	Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.
+
+GREGORY	No, for then we should be colliers.
+
+SAMPSON	I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.
+
+GREGORY	Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar.
+
+SAMPSON	I strike quickly, being moved.
+
+GREGORY	But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
+
+SAMPSON	A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
+
+GREGORY	To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand:
+	therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.
+
+SAMPSON	A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will
+	take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.
+
+GREGORY	That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes
+	to the wall.
+
+SAMPSON	True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels,
+	are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push
+	Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids
+	to the wall.
+
+GREGORY	The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
+
+SAMPSON	'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I
+	have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the
+	maids, and cut off their heads.
+
+GREGORY	The heads of the maids?
+
+SAMPSON	Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads;
+	take it in what sense thou wilt.
+
+GREGORY	They must take it in sense that feel it.
+
+SAMPSON	Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and
+	'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
+
+GREGORY	'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou
+	hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes
+	two of the house of the Montagues.
+
+SAMPSON	My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.
+
+GREGORY	How! turn thy back and run?
+
+SAMPSON	Fear me not.
+
+GREGORY	No, marry; I fear thee!
+
+SAMPSON	Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
+
+GREGORY	I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as
+	they list.
+
+SAMPSON	Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them;
+	which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.
+
+	[Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR]
+
+ABRAHAM	Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
+
+SAMPSON	I do bite my thumb, sir.
+
+ABRAHAM	Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
+
+SAMPSON	[Aside to GREGORY]  Is the law of our side, if I say
+	ay?
+
+GREGORY	No.
+
+SAMPSON	No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I
+	bite my thumb, sir.
+
+GREGORY	Do you quarrel, sir?
+
+ABRAHAM	Quarrel sir! no, sir.
+
+SAMPSON	If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you.
+
+ABRAHAM	No better.
+
+SAMPSON	Well, sir.
+
+GREGORY	Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen.
+
+SAMPSON	Yes, better, sir.
+
+ABRAHAM	You lie.
+
+SAMPSON	Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.
+
+	[They fight]
+
+	[Enter BENVOLIO]
+
+BENVOLIO	Part, fools!
+	Put up your swords; you know not what you do.
+
+	[Beats down their swords]
+
+	[Enter TYBALT]
+
+TYBALT	What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
+	Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
+
+BENVOLIO	I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,
+	Or manage it to part these men with me.
+
+TYBALT	What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word,
+	As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
+	Have at thee, coward!
+
+	[They fight]
+
+	[Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray;
+	then enter Citizens, with clubs]
+
+First Citizen	Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!
+	Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!
+
+	[Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET]
+
+CAPULET	What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
+
+LADY CAPULET	A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword?
+
+CAPULET	My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,
+	And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
+
+	[Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE]
+
+MONTAGUE	Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go.
+
+LADY MONTAGUE	Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.
+
+	[Enter PRINCE, with Attendants]
+
+PRINCE	Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
+	Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,--
+	Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,
+	That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
+	With purple fountains issuing from your veins,
+	On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
+	Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,
+	And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
+	Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
+	By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
+	Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,
+	And made Verona's ancient citizens
+	Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
+	To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
+	Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate:
+	If ever you disturb our streets again,
+	Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
+	For this time, all the rest depart away:
+	You Capulet; shall go along with me:
+	And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
+	To know our further pleasure in this case,
+	To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.
+	Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
+
+	[Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO]
+
+MONTAGUE	Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
+	Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
+
+BENVOLIO	Here were the servants of your adversary,
+	And yours, close fighting ere I did approach:
+	I drew to part them: in the instant came
+	The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared,
+	Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,
+	He swung about his head and cut the winds,
+	Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn:
+	While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,
+	Came more and more and fought on part and part,
+	Till the prince came, who parted either part.
+
+LADY MONTAGUE	O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day?
+	Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
+
+BENVOLIO	Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
+	Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
+	A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
+	Where, underneath the grove of sycamore
+	That westward rooteth from the city's side,
+	So early walking did I see your son:
+	Towards him I made, but he was ware of me
+	And stole into the covert of the wood:
+	I, measuring his affections by my own,
+	That most are busied when they're most alone,
+	Pursued my humour not pursuing his,
+	And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
+
+MONTAGUE	Many a morning hath he there been seen,
+	With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew.
+	Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;
+	But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
+	Should in the furthest east begin to draw
+	The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
+	Away from the light steals home my heavy son,
+	And private in his chamber pens himself,
+	Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out
+	And makes himself an artificial night:
+	Black and portentous must this humour prove,
+	Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
+
+BENVOLIO	My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
+
+MONTAGUE	I neither know it nor can learn of him.
+
+BENVOLIO	Have you importuned him by any means?
+
+MONTAGUE	Both by myself and many other friends:
+	But he, his own affections' counsellor,
+	Is to himself--I will not say how true--
+	But to himself so secret and so close,
+	So far from sounding and discovery,
+	As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
+	Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
+	Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
+	Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow.
+	We would as willingly give cure as know.
+
+	[Enter ROMEO]
+
+BENVOLIO	See, where he comes: so please you, step aside;
+	I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
+
+MONTAGUE	I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,
+	To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away.
+
+	[Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE]
+
+BENVOLIO	Good-morrow, cousin.
+
+ROMEO	Is the day so young?
+
+BENVOLIO	But new struck nine.
+
+ROMEO	Ay me! sad hours seem long.
+	Was that my father that went hence so fast?
+
+BENVOLIO	It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
+
+ROMEO	Not having that, which, having, makes them short.
+
+BENVOLIO	In love?
+
+ROMEO	Out--
+
+BENVOLIO	Of love?
+
+ROMEO	Out of her favour, where I am in love.
+
+BENVOLIO	Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,
+	Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
+
+ROMEO	Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,
+	Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!
+	Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?
+	Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
+	Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.
+	Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
+	O any thing, of nothing first create!
+	O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
+	Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
+	Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,
+	sick health!
+	Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
+	This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
+	Dost thou not laugh?
+
+BENVOLIO	No, coz, I rather weep.
+
+ROMEO	Good heart, at what?
+
+BENVOLIO	At thy good heart's oppression.
+
+ROMEO	Why, such is love's transgression.
+	Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
+	Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest
+	With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown
+	Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
+	Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;
+	Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
+	Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:
+	What is it else? a madness most discreet,
+	A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
+	Farewell, my coz.
+
+BENVOLIO	                  Soft! I will go along;
+	An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
+
+ROMEO	Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here;
+	This is not Romeo, he's some other where.
+
+BENVOLIO	Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.
+
+ROMEO	What, shall I groan and tell thee?
+
+BENVOLIO	Groan! why, no.
+	But sadly tell me who.
+
+ROMEO	Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:
+	Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!
+	In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
+
+BENVOLIO	I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved.
+
+ROMEO	A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love.
+
+BENVOLIO	A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
+
+ROMEO	Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit
+	With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit;
+	And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
+	From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.
+	She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
+	Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
+	Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:
+	O, she is rich in beauty, only poor,
+	That when she dies with beauty dies her store.
+
+BENVOLIO	Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
+
+ROMEO	She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,
+	For beauty starved with her severity
+	Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
+	She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,
+	To merit bliss by making me despair:
+	She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow
+	Do I live dead that live to tell it now.
+
+BENVOLIO	Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.
+
+ROMEO	O, teach me how I should forget to think.
+
+BENVOLIO	By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
+	Examine other beauties.
+
+ROMEO	'Tis the way
+	To call hers exquisite, in question more:
+	These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows
+	Being black put us in mind they hide the fair;
+	He that is strucken blind cannot forget
+	The precious treasure of his eyesight lost:
+	Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
+	What doth her beauty serve, but as a note
+	Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
+	Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget.
+
+BENVOLIO	I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A street.
+
+
+	[Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant]
+
+CAPULET	But Montague is bound as well as I,
+	In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,
+	For men so old as we to keep the peace.
+
+PARIS	Of honourable reckoning are you both;
+	And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long.
+	But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
+
+CAPULET	But saying o'er what I have said before:
+	My child is yet a stranger in the world;
+	She hath not seen the change of fourteen years,
+	Let two more summers wither in their pride,
+	Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
+
+PARIS	Younger than she are happy mothers made.
+
+CAPULET	And too soon marr'd are those so early made.
+	The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,
+	She is the hopeful lady of my earth:
+	But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
+	My will to her consent is but a part;
+	An she agree, within her scope of choice
+	Lies my consent and fair according voice.
+	This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
+	Whereto I have invited many a guest,
+	Such as I love; and you, among the store,
+	One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
+	At my poor house look to behold this night
+	Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:
+	Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
+	When well-apparell'd April on the heel
+	Of limping winter treads, even such delight
+	Among fresh female buds shall you this night
+	Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,
+	And like her most whose merit most shall be:
+	Which on more view, of many mine being one
+	May stand in number, though in reckoning none,
+	Come, go with me.
+
+	[To Servant, giving a paper]
+
+	Go, sirrah, trudge about
+	Through fair Verona; find those persons out
+	Whose names are written there, and to them say,
+	My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
+
+	[Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS]
+
+Servant	Find them out whose names are written here! It is
+	written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his
+	yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with
+	his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am
+	sent to find those persons whose names are here
+	writ, and can never find what names the writing
+	person hath here writ. I must to the learned.--In good time.
+
+	[Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO]
+
+BENVOLIO	Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning,
+	One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;
+	Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
+	One desperate grief cures with another's languish:
+	Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
+	And the rank poison of the old will die.
+
+ROMEO	Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that.
+
+BENVOLIO	For what, I pray thee?
+
+ROMEO	For your broken shin.
+
+BENVOLIO	Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
+
+ROMEO	Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is;
+	Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
+	Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow.
+
+Servant	God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?
+
+ROMEO	Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
+
+Servant	Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I
+	pray, can you read any thing you see?
+
+ROMEO	Ay, if I know the letters and the language.
+
+Servant	Ye say honestly: rest you merry!
+
+ROMEO	Stay, fellow; I can read.
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
+	County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady
+	widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely
+	nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine
+	uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece
+	Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin
+	Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair
+	assembly: whither should they come?
+
+Servant	Up.
+
+ROMEO	Whither?
+
+Servant	To supper; to our house.
+
+ROMEO	Whose house?
+
+Servant	My master's.
+
+ROMEO	Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before.
+
+Servant	Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the
+	great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house
+	of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine.
+	Rest you merry!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+BENVOLIO	At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
+	Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,
+	With all the admired beauties of Verona:
+	Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,
+	Compare her face with some that I shall show,
+	And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
+
+ROMEO	When the devout religion of mine eye
+	Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires;
+	And these, who often drown'd could never die,
+	Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!
+	One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun
+	Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
+
+BENVOLIO	Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,
+	Herself poised with herself in either eye:
+	But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd
+	Your lady's love against some other maid
+	That I will show you shining at this feast,
+	And she shall scant show well that now shows best.
+
+ROMEO	I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,
+	But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in Capulet's house.
+
+
+	[Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse]
+
+LADY CAPULET	Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.
+
+Nurse	Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old,
+	I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird!
+	God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!
+
+	[Enter JULIET]
+
+JULIET	How now! who calls?
+
+Nurse	Your mother.
+
+JULIET	Madam, I am here.
+	What is your will?
+
+LADY CAPULET	This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile,
+	We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again;
+	I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel.
+	Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.
+
+Nurse	Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
+
+LADY CAPULET	She's not fourteen.
+
+Nurse	I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,--
+	And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four--
+	She is not fourteen. How long is it now
+	To Lammas-tide?
+
+LADY CAPULET	                  A fortnight and odd days.
+
+Nurse	Even or odd, of all days in the year,
+	Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen.
+	Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!--
+	Were of an age: well, Susan is with God;
+	She was too good for me: but, as I said,
+	On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;
+	That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
+	'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;
+	And she was wean'd,--I never shall forget it,--
+	Of all the days of the year, upon that day:
+	For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,
+	Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall;
+	My lord and you were then at Mantua:--
+	Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said,
+	When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
+	Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,
+	To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug!
+	Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow,
+	To bid me trudge:
+	And since that time it is eleven years;
+	For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood,
+	She could have run and waddled all about;
+	For even the day before, she broke her brow:
+	And then my husband--God be with his soul!
+	A' was a merry man--took up the child:
+	'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face?
+	Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;
+	Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame,
+	The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.'
+	To see, now, how a jest shall come about!
+	I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,
+	I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he;
+	And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.'
+
+LADY CAPULET	Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace.
+
+Nurse	Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh,
+	To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'
+	And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow
+	A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone;
+	A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:
+	'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face?
+	Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;
+	Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.'
+
+JULIET	And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.
+
+Nurse	Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!
+	Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed:
+	An I might live to see thee married once,
+	I have my wish.
+
+LADY CAPULET	Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme
+	I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
+	How stands your disposition to be married?
+
+JULIET	It is an honour that I dream not of.
+
+Nurse	An honour! were not I thine only nurse,
+	I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.
+
+LADY CAPULET	Well, think of marriage now; younger than you,
+	Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
+	Are made already mothers: by my count,
+	I was your mother much upon these years
+	That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:
+	The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
+
+Nurse	A man, young lady! lady, such a man
+	As all the world--why, he's a man of wax.
+
+LADY CAPULET	Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
+
+Nurse	Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.
+
+LADY CAPULET	What say you? can you love the gentleman?
+	This night you shall behold him at our feast;
+	Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
+	And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
+	Examine every married lineament,
+	And see how one another lends content
+	And what obscured in this fair volume lies
+	Find written in the margent of his eyes.
+	This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
+	To beautify him, only lacks a cover:
+	The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride
+	For fair without the fair within to hide:
+	That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,
+	That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
+	So shall you share all that he doth possess,
+	By having him, making yourself no less.
+
+Nurse	No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men.
+
+LADY CAPULET	Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
+
+JULIET	I'll look to like, if looking liking move:
+	But no more deep will I endart mine eye
+	Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+Servant	Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you
+	called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in
+	the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must
+	hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.
+
+LADY CAPULET	We follow thee.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+	Juliet, the county stays.
+
+Nurse	Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A street.
+
+
+	[Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six
+	Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others]
+
+ROMEO	What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
+	Or shall we on without a apology?
+
+BENVOLIO	The date is out of such prolixity:
+	We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,
+	Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
+	Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;
+	Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
+	After the prompter, for our entrance:
+	But let them measure us by what they will;
+	We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.
+
+ROMEO	Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;
+	Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
+
+MERCUTIO	Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
+
+ROMEO	Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes
+	With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead
+	So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
+
+MERCUTIO	You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
+	And soar with them above a common bound.
+
+ROMEO	I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
+	To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,
+	I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
+	Under love's heavy burden do I sink.
+
+MERCUTIO	And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
+	Too great oppression for a tender thing.
+
+ROMEO	Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
+	Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
+
+MERCUTIO	If love be rough with you, be rough with love;
+	Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
+	Give me a case to put my visage in:
+	A visor for a visor! what care I
+	What curious eye doth quote deformities?
+	Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.
+
+BENVOLIO	Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,
+	But every man betake him to his legs.
+
+ROMEO	A torch for me: let wantons light of heart
+	Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels,
+	For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase;
+	I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.
+	The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
+
+MERCUTIO	Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:
+	If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
+	Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st
+	Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
+
+ROMEO	Nay, that's not so.
+
+MERCUTIO	I mean, sir, in delay
+	We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
+	Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
+	Five times in that ere once in our five wits.
+
+ROMEO	And we mean well in going to this mask;
+	But 'tis no wit to go.
+
+MERCUTIO	Why, may one ask?
+
+ROMEO	I dream'd a dream to-night.
+
+MERCUTIO	And so did I.
+
+ROMEO	Well, what was yours?
+
+MERCUTIO	That dreamers often lie.
+
+ROMEO	In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
+
+MERCUTIO	O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
+	She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
+	In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
+	On the fore-finger of an alderman,
+	Drawn with a team of little atomies
+	Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
+	Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,
+	The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
+	The traces of the smallest spider's web,
+	The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,
+	Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,
+	Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,
+	Not so big as a round little worm
+	Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;
+	Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut
+	Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
+	Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
+	And in this state she gallops night by night
+	Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
+	O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,
+	O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,
+	O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
+	Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
+	Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:
+	Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
+	And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
+	And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
+	Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,
+	Then dreams, he of another benefice:
+	Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
+	And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
+	Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
+	Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon
+	Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
+	And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
+	And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
+	That plats the manes of horses in the night,
+	And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,
+	Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:
+	This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
+	That presses them and learns them first to bear,
+	Making them women of good carriage:
+	This is she--
+
+ROMEO	                  Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
+	Thou talk'st of nothing.
+
+MERCUTIO	True, I talk of dreams,
+	Which are the children of an idle brain,
+	Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
+	Which is as thin of substance as the air
+	And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
+	Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
+	And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
+	Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
+
+BENVOLIO	This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;
+	Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
+
+ROMEO	I fear, too early: for my mind misgives
+	Some consequence yet hanging in the stars
+	Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
+	With this night's revels and expire the term
+	Of a despised life closed in my breast
+	By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
+	But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
+	Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen.
+
+BENVOLIO	Strike, drum.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE V	A hall in Capulet's house.
+
+
+	[Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins]
+
+First Servant	Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He
+	shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher!
+
+Second Servant	When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's
+	hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.
+
+First Servant	Away with the joint-stools, remove the
+	court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save
+	me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let
+	the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.
+	Antony, and Potpan!
+
+Second Servant	Ay, boy, ready.
+
+First Servant	You are looked for and called for, asked for and
+	sought for, in the great chamber.
+
+Second Servant	We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be
+	brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.
+
+	[Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house,
+	meeting the Guests and Maskers]
+
+CAPULET	Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes
+	Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you.
+	Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all
+	Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty,
+	She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now?
+	Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day
+	That I have worn a visor and could tell
+	A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,
+	Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone:
+	You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play.
+	A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.
+
+	[Music plays, and they dance]
+
+	More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up,
+	And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
+	Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.
+	Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet;
+	For you and I are past our dancing days:
+	How long is't now since last yourself and I
+	Were in a mask?
+
+Second Capulet	                  By'r lady, thirty years.
+
+CAPULET	What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much:
+	'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio,
+	Come pentecost as quickly as it will,
+	Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd.
+
+Second Capulet	'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir;
+	His son is thirty.
+
+CAPULET	                  Will you tell me that?
+	His son was but a ward two years ago.
+
+ROMEO	[To a Servingman]  What lady is that, which doth
+	enrich the hand
+	Of yonder knight?
+
+Servant	I know not, sir.
+
+ROMEO	O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
+	It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
+	Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear;
+	Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
+	So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,
+	As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
+	The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,
+	And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
+	Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
+	For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
+
+TYBALT	This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
+	Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave
+	Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,
+	To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
+	Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
+	To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin.
+
+CAPULET	Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?
+
+TYBALT	Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,
+	A villain that is hither come in spite,
+	To scorn at our solemnity this night.
+
+CAPULET	Young Romeo is it?
+
+TYBALT	'Tis he, that villain Romeo.
+
+CAPULET	Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone;
+	He bears him like a portly gentleman;
+	And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
+	To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth:
+	I would not for the wealth of all the town
+	Here in my house do him disparagement:
+	Therefore be patient, take no note of him:
+	It is my will, the which if thou respect,
+	Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
+	And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
+
+TYBALT	It fits, when such a villain is a guest:
+	I'll not endure him.
+
+CAPULET	He shall be endured:
+	What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to;
+	Am I the master here, or you? go to.
+	You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul!
+	You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
+	You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!
+
+TYBALT	Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
+
+CAPULET	Go to, go to;
+	You are a saucy boy: is't so, indeed?
+	This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what:
+	You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time.
+	Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go:
+	Be quiet, or--More light, more light! For shame!
+	I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts!
+
+TYBALT	Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
+	Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
+	I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall
+	Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ROMEO	[To JULIET]  If I profane with my unworthiest hand
+	This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
+	My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
+	To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
+
+JULIET	Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
+	Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
+	For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
+	And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
+
+ROMEO	Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
+
+JULIET	Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
+
+ROMEO	O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
+	They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
+
+JULIET	Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
+
+ROMEO	Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.
+	Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.
+
+JULIET	Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
+
+ROMEO	Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!
+	Give me my sin again.
+
+JULIET	You kiss by the book.
+
+Nurse	Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
+
+ROMEO	What is her mother?
+
+Nurse	Marry, bachelor,
+	Her mother is the lady of the house,
+	And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous
+	I nursed her daughter, that you talk'd withal;
+	I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
+	Shall have the chinks.
+
+ROMEO	Is she a Capulet?
+	O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
+
+BENVOLIO	Away, begone; the sport is at the best.
+
+ROMEO	Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
+
+CAPULET	Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
+	We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
+	Is it e'en so? why, then, I thank you all
+	I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night.
+	More torches here! Come on then, let's to bed.
+	Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late:
+	I'll to my rest.
+
+	[Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse]
+
+JULIET	Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?
+
+Nurse	The son and heir of old Tiberio.
+
+JULIET	What's he that now is going out of door?
+
+Nurse	Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio.
+
+JULIET	What's he that follows there, that would not dance?
+
+Nurse	I know not.
+
+JULIET	Go ask his name: if he be married.
+	My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
+
+Nurse	His name is Romeo, and a Montague;
+	The only son of your great enemy.
+
+JULIET	My only love sprung from my only hate!
+	Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
+	Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
+	That I must love a loathed enemy.
+
+Nurse	What's this? what's this?
+
+JULIET	A rhyme I learn'd even now
+	Of one I danced withal.
+
+	[One calls within 'Juliet.']
+
+Nurse	Anon, anon!
+	Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+	PROLOGUE
+
+
+	[Enter Chorus]
+
+Chorus	Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,
+	And young affection gapes to be his heir;
+	That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,
+	With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
+	Now Romeo is beloved and loves again,
+	Alike betwitched by the charm of looks,
+	But to his foe supposed he must complain,
+	And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks:
+	Being held a foe, he may not have access
+	To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;
+	And she as much in love, her means much less
+	To meet her new-beloved any where:
+	But passion lends them power, time means, to meet
+	Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard.
+
+
+	[Enter ROMEO]
+
+ROMEO	Can I go forward when my heart is here?
+	Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
+
+	[He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it]
+
+	[Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO]
+
+BENVOLIO	Romeo! my cousin Romeo!
+
+MERCUTIO	He is wise;
+	And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed.
+
+BENVOLIO	He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall:
+	Call, good Mercutio.
+
+MERCUTIO	Nay, I'll conjure too.
+	Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
+	Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:
+	Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;
+	Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;'
+	Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
+	One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,
+	Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,
+	When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!
+	He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
+	The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
+	I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
+	By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
+	By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh
+	And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
+	That in thy likeness thou appear to us!
+
+BENVOLIO	And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
+
+MERCUTIO	This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him
+	To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle
+	Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
+	Till she had laid it and conjured it down;
+	That were some spite: my invocation
+	Is fair and honest, and in his mistress' name
+	I conjure only but to raise up him.
+
+BENVOLIO	Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,
+	To be consorted with the humorous night:
+	Blind is his love and best befits the dark.
+
+MERCUTIO	If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
+	Now will he sit under a medlar tree,
+	And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
+	As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.
+	Romeo, that she were, O, that she were
+	An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear!
+	Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed;
+	This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:
+	Come, shall we go?
+
+BENVOLIO	                  Go, then; for 'tis in vain
+	To seek him here that means not to be found.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Capulet's orchard.
+
+
+	[Enter ROMEO]
+
+ROMEO	He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
+
+	[JULIET appears above at a window]
+
+	But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
+	It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
+	Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
+	Who is already sick and pale with grief,
+	That thou her maid art far more fair than she:
+	Be not her maid, since she is envious;
+	Her vestal livery is but sick and green
+	And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
+	It is my lady, O, it is my love!
+	O, that she knew she were!
+	She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?
+	Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
+	I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
+	Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
+	Having some business, do entreat her eyes
+	To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
+	What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
+	The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
+	As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
+	Would through the airy region stream so bright
+	That birds would sing and think it were not night.
+	See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
+	O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
+	That I might touch that cheek!
+
+JULIET	Ay me!
+
+ROMEO	She speaks:
+	O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
+	As glorious to this night, being o'er my head
+	As is a winged messenger of heaven
+	Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
+	Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
+	When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
+	And sails upon the bosom of the air.
+
+JULIET	O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
+	Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
+	Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
+	And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
+
+ROMEO	[Aside]  Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
+
+JULIET	'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
+	Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
+	What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
+	Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
+	Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
+	What's in a name? that which we call a rose
+	By any other name would smell as sweet;
+	So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
+	Retain that dear perfection which he owes
+	Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
+	And for that name which is no part of thee
+	Take all myself.
+
+ROMEO	                  I take thee at thy word:
+	Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;
+	Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
+
+JULIET	What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night
+	So stumblest on my counsel?
+
+ROMEO	By a name
+	I know not how to tell thee who I am:
+	My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
+	Because it is an enemy to thee;
+	Had I it written, I would tear the word.
+
+JULIET	My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words
+	Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound:
+	Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?
+
+ROMEO	Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.
+
+JULIET	How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
+	The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
+	And the place death, considering who thou art,
+	If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
+
+ROMEO	With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;
+	For stony limits cannot hold love out,
+	And what love can do that dares love attempt;
+	Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
+
+JULIET	If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
+
+ROMEO	Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
+	Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,
+	And I am proof against their enmity.
+
+JULIET	I would not for the world they saw thee here.
+
+ROMEO	I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight;
+	And but thou love me, let them find me here:
+	My life were better ended by their hate,
+	Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
+
+JULIET	By whose direction found'st thou out this place?
+
+ROMEO	By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;
+	He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes.
+	I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far
+	As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea,
+	I would adventure for such merchandise.
+
+JULIET	Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,
+	Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
+	For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night
+	Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
+	What I have spoke: but farewell compliment!
+	Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,'
+	And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st,
+	Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries
+	Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
+	If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
+	Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
+	I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay,
+	So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.
+	In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,
+	And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light:
+	But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
+	Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
+	I should have been more strange, I must confess,
+	But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
+	My true love's passion: therefore pardon me,
+	And not impute this yielding to light love,
+	Which the dark night hath so discovered.
+
+ROMEO	Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear
+	That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops--
+
+JULIET	O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
+	That monthly changes in her circled orb,
+	Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
+
+ROMEO	What shall I swear by?
+
+JULIET	Do not swear at all;
+	Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
+	Which is the god of my idolatry,
+	And I'll believe thee.
+
+ROMEO	If my heart's dear love--
+
+JULIET	Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,
+	I have no joy of this contract to-night:
+	It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;
+	Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
+	Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!
+	This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
+	May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
+	Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
+	Come to thy heart as that within my breast!
+
+ROMEO	O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
+
+JULIET	What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
+
+ROMEO	The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.
+
+JULIET	I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:
+	And yet I would it were to give again.
+
+ROMEO	Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?
+
+JULIET	But to be frank, and give it thee again.
+	And yet I wish but for the thing I have:
+	My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
+	My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
+	The more I have, for both are infinite.
+
+	[Nurse calls within]
+
+	I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!
+	Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true.
+	Stay but a little, I will come again.
+
+	[Exit, above]
+
+ROMEO	O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard.
+	Being in night, all this is but a dream,
+	Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.
+
+	[Re-enter JULIET, above]
+
+JULIET	Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.
+	If that thy bent of love be honourable,
+	Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
+	By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
+	Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;
+	And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay
+	And follow thee my lord throughout the world.
+
+Nurse	[Within]  Madam!
+
+JULIET	I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well,
+	I do beseech thee--
+
+Nurse	[Within]  Madam!
+
+JULIET	By and by, I come:--
+	To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:
+	To-morrow will I send.
+
+ROMEO	So thrive my soul--
+
+JULIET	A thousand times good night!
+
+	[Exit, above]
+
+ROMEO	A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.
+	Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from
+	their books,
+	But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.
+
+	[Retiring]
+
+	[Re-enter JULIET, above]
+
+JULIET	Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice,
+	To lure this tassel-gentle back again!
+	Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;
+	Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
+	And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine,
+	With repetition of my Romeo's name.
+
+ROMEO	It is my soul that calls upon my name:
+	How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
+	Like softest music to attending ears!
+
+JULIET	Romeo!
+
+ROMEO	     My dear?
+
+JULIET	                  At what o'clock to-morrow
+	Shall I send to thee?
+
+ROMEO	At the hour of nine.
+
+JULIET	I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then.
+	I have forgot why I did call thee back.
+
+ROMEO	Let me stand here till thou remember it.
+
+JULIET	I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
+	Remembering how I love thy company.
+
+ROMEO	And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,
+	Forgetting any other home but this.
+
+JULIET	'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:
+	And yet no further than a wanton's bird;
+	Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
+	Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
+	And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
+	So loving-jealous of his liberty.
+
+ROMEO	I would I were thy bird.
+
+JULIET	Sweet, so would I:
+	Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
+	Good night, good night! parting is such
+	sweet sorrow,
+	That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
+
+	[Exit above]
+
+ROMEO	Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!
+	Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!
+	Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell,
+	His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Friar Laurence's cell.
+
+
+	[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with a basket]
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,
+	Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,
+	And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
+	From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels:
+	Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye,
+	The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,
+	I must up-fill this osier cage of ours
+	With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.
+	The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb;
+	What is her burying grave that is her womb,
+	And from her womb children of divers kind
+	We sucking on her natural bosom find,
+	Many for many virtues excellent,
+	None but for some and yet all different.
+	O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies
+	In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:
+	For nought so vile that on the earth doth live
+	But to the earth some special good doth give,
+	Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use
+	Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:
+	Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;
+	And vice sometimes by action dignified.
+	Within the infant rind of this small flower
+	Poison hath residence and medicine power:
+	For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
+	Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
+	Two such opposed kings encamp them still
+	In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will;
+	And where the worser is predominant,
+	Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.
+
+	[Enter ROMEO]
+
+ROMEO	Good morrow, father.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Benedicite!
+	What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
+	Young son, it argues a distemper'd head
+	So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed:
+	Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
+	And where care lodges, sleep will never lie;
+	But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain
+	Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign:
+	Therefore thy earliness doth me assure
+	Thou art up-roused by some distemperature;
+	Or if not so, then here I hit it right,
+	Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.
+
+ROMEO	That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline?
+
+ROMEO	With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no;
+	I have forgot that name, and that name's woe.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	That's my good son: but where hast thou been, then?
+
+ROMEO	I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again.
+	I have been feasting with mine enemy,
+	Where on a sudden one hath wounded me,
+	That's by me wounded: both our remedies
+	Within thy help and holy physic lies:
+	I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo,
+	My intercession likewise steads my foe.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;
+	Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
+
+ROMEO	Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set
+	On the fair daughter of rich Capulet:
+	As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;
+	And all combined, save what thou must combine
+	By holy marriage: when and where and how
+	We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow,
+	I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
+	That thou consent to marry us to-day.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!
+	Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear,
+	So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies
+	Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
+	Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine
+	Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
+	How much salt water thrown away in waste,
+	To season love, that of it doth not taste!
+	The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
+	Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;
+	Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
+	Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet:
+	If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine,
+	Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline:
+	And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then,
+	Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.
+
+ROMEO	Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
+
+ROMEO	And bad'st me bury love.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Not in a grave,
+	To lay one in, another out to have.
+
+ROMEO	I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now
+	Doth grace for grace and love for love allow;
+	The other did not so.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	O, she knew well
+	Thy love did read by rote and could not spell.
+	But come, young waverer, come, go with me,
+	In one respect I'll thy assistant be;
+	For this alliance may so happy prove,
+	To turn your households' rancour to pure love.
+
+ROMEO	O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A street.
+
+
+	[Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO]
+
+MERCUTIO	Where the devil should this Romeo be?
+	Came he not home to-night?
+
+BENVOLIO	Not to his father's; I spoke with his man.
+
+MERCUTIO	Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline.
+	Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.
+
+BENVOLIO	Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,
+	Hath sent a letter to his father's house.
+
+MERCUTIO	A challenge, on my life.
+
+BENVOLIO	Romeo will answer it.
+
+MERCUTIO	Any man that can write may answer a letter.
+
+BENVOLIO	Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he
+	dares, being dared.
+
+MERCUTIO	Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a
+	white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a
+	love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the
+	blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to
+	encounter Tybalt?
+
+BENVOLIO	Why, what is Tybalt?
+
+MERCUTIO	More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is
+	the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as
+	you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and
+	proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and
+	the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk
+	button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the
+	very first house, of the first and second cause:
+	ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the
+	hai!
+
+BENVOLIO	The what?
+
+MERCUTIO	The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting
+	fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu,
+	a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good
+	whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing,
+	grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with
+	these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these
+	perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form,
+	that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their
+	bones, their bones!
+
+	[Enter ROMEO]
+
+BENVOLIO	Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.
+
+MERCUTIO	Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh,
+	how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers
+	that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a
+	kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to
+	be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy;
+	Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey
+	eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior
+	Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation
+	to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit
+	fairly last night.
+
+ROMEO	Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
+
+MERCUTIO	The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?
+
+ROMEO	Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in
+	such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
+
+MERCUTIO	That's as much as to say, such a case as yours
+	constrains a man to bow in the hams.
+
+ROMEO	Meaning, to court'sy.
+
+MERCUTIO	Thou hast most kindly hit it.
+
+ROMEO	A most courteous exposition.
+
+MERCUTIO	Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
+
+ROMEO	Pink for flower.
+
+MERCUTIO	Right.
+
+ROMEO	Why, then is my pump well flowered.
+
+MERCUTIO	Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast
+	worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it
+	is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular.
+
+ROMEO	O single-soled jest, solely singular for the
+	singleness.
+
+MERCUTIO	Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.
+
+ROMEO	Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match.
+
+MERCUTIO	Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have
+	done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of
+	thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five:
+	was I with you there for the goose?
+
+ROMEO	Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast
+	not there for the goose.
+
+MERCUTIO	I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
+
+ROMEO	Nay, good goose, bite not.
+
+MERCUTIO	Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most
+	sharp sauce.
+
+ROMEO	And is it not well served in to a sweet goose?
+
+MERCUTIO	O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an
+	inch narrow to an ell broad!
+
+ROMEO	I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added
+	to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.
+
+MERCUTIO	Why, is not this better now than groaning for love?
+	now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art
+	thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature:
+	for this drivelling love is like a great natural,
+	that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.
+
+BENVOLIO	Stop there, stop there.
+
+MERCUTIO	Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
+
+BENVOLIO	Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
+
+MERCUTIO	O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short:
+	for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and
+	meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer.
+
+ROMEO	Here's goodly gear!
+
+	[Enter Nurse and PETER]
+
+MERCUTIO	A sail, a sail!
+
+BENVOLIO	Two, two; a shirt and a smock.
+
+Nurse	Peter!
+
+PETER	Anon!
+
+Nurse	My fan, Peter.
+
+MERCUTIO	Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the
+	fairer face.
+
+Nurse	God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
+
+MERCUTIO	God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.
+
+Nurse	Is it good den?
+
+MERCUTIO	'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the
+	dial is now upon the prick of noon.
+
+Nurse	Out upon you! what a man are you!
+
+ROMEO	One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to
+	mar.
+
+Nurse	By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,'
+	quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I
+	may find the young Romeo?
+
+ROMEO	I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when
+	you have found him than he was when you sought him:
+	I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse.
+
+Nurse	You say well.
+
+MERCUTIO	Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith;
+	wisely, wisely.
+
+Nurse	if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with
+	you.
+
+BENVOLIO	She will indite him to some supper.
+
+MERCUTIO	A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho!
+
+ROMEO	What hast thou found?
+
+MERCUTIO	No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie,
+	that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.
+
+	[Sings]
+
+	An old hare hoar,
+	And an old hare hoar,
+	Is very good meat in lent
+	But a hare that is hoar
+	Is too much for a score,
+	When it hoars ere it be spent.
+	Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll
+	to dinner, thither.
+
+ROMEO	I will follow you.
+
+MERCUTIO	Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,
+
+	[Singing]
+
+	'lady, lady, lady.'
+
+	[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO]
+
+Nurse	Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy
+	merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery?
+
+ROMEO	A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk,
+	and will speak more in a minute than he will stand
+	to in a month.
+
+Nurse	An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him
+	down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such
+	Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall.
+	Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am
+	none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by
+	too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure?
+
+PETER	I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon
+	should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare
+	draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a
+	good quarrel, and the law on my side.
+
+Nurse	Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about
+	me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word:
+	and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you
+	out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself:
+	but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into
+	a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross
+	kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman
+	is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double
+	with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered
+	to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.
+
+ROMEO	Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I
+	protest unto thee--
+
+Nurse	Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much:
+	Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman.
+
+ROMEO	What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me.
+
+Nurse	I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as
+	I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.
+
+ROMEO	Bid her devise
+	Some means to come to shrift this afternoon;
+	And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell
+	Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains.
+
+Nurse	No truly sir; not a penny.
+
+ROMEO	Go to; I say you shall.
+
+Nurse	This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
+
+ROMEO	And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall:
+	Within this hour my man shall be with thee
+	And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair;
+	Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
+	Must be my convoy in the secret night.
+	Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains:
+	Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.
+
+Nurse	Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.
+
+ROMEO	What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
+
+Nurse	Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say,
+	Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
+
+ROMEO	I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel.
+
+NURSE	Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord,
+	Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:--O, there
+	is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain
+	lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief
+	see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her
+	sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer
+	man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks
+	as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not
+	rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?
+
+ROMEO	Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.
+
+Nurse	Ah. mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for
+	the--No; I know it begins with some other
+	letter:--and she hath the prettiest sententious of
+	it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good
+	to hear it.
+
+ROMEO	Commend me to thy lady.
+
+Nurse	Ay, a thousand times.
+
+	[Exit Romeo]
+	Peter!
+
+PETER	Anon!
+
+Nurse	Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Capulet's orchard.
+
+
+	[Enter JULIET]
+
+JULIET	The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse;
+	In half an hour she promised to return.
+	Perchance she cannot meet him: that's not so.
+	O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts,
+	Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams,
+	Driving back shadows over louring hills:
+	Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
+	And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
+	Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
+	Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve
+	Is three long hours, yet she is not come.
+	Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
+	She would be as swift in motion as a ball;
+	My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
+	And his to me:
+	But old folks, many feign as they were dead;
+	Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
+	O God, she comes!
+
+	[Enter Nurse and PETER]
+
+	O honey nurse, what news?
+	Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
+
+Nurse	Peter, stay at the gate.
+
+	[Exit PETER]
+
+JULIET	Now, good sweet nurse,--O Lord, why look'st thou sad?
+	Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
+	If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news
+	By playing it to me with so sour a face.
+
+Nurse	I am a-weary, give me leave awhile:
+	Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!
+
+JULIET	I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news:
+	Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak.
+
+Nurse	Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile?
+	Do you not see that I am out of breath?
+
+JULIET	How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath
+	To say to me that thou art out of breath?
+	The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
+	Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.
+	Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that;
+	Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance:
+	Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad?
+
+Nurse	Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not
+	how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his
+	face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels
+	all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body,
+	though they be not to be talked on, yet they are
+	past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy,
+	but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy
+	ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home?
+
+JULIET	No, no: but all this did I know before.
+	What says he of our marriage? what of that?
+
+Nurse	Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I!
+	It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
+	My back o' t' other side,--O, my back, my back!
+	Beshrew your heart for sending me about,
+	To catch my death with jaunting up and down!
+
+JULIET	I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
+	Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
+
+Nurse	Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a
+	courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I
+	warrant, a virtuous,--Where is your mother?
+
+JULIET	Where is my mother! why, she is within;
+	Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!
+	'Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
+	Where is your mother?'
+
+Nurse	O God's lady dear!
+	Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow;
+	Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
+	Henceforward do your messages yourself.
+
+JULIET	Here's such a coil! come, what says Romeo?
+
+Nurse	Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
+
+JULIET	I have.
+
+Nurse	Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell;
+	There stays a husband to make you a wife:
+	Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
+	They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
+	Hie you to church; I must another way,
+	To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
+	Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark:
+	I am the drudge and toil in your delight,
+	But you shall bear the burden soon at night.
+	Go; I'll to dinner: hie you to the cell.
+
+JULIET	Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	Friar Laurence's cell.
+
+
+	[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO]
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	So smile the heavens upon this holy act,
+	That after hours with sorrow chide us not!
+
+ROMEO	Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can,
+	It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
+	That one short minute gives me in her sight:
+	Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
+	Then love-devouring death do what he dare;
+	It is enough I may but call her mine.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	These violent delights have violent ends
+	And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
+	Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey
+	Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
+	And in the taste confounds the appetite:
+	Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;
+	Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
+
+	[Enter JULIET]
+
+	Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot
+	Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint:
+	A lover may bestride the gossamer
+	That idles in the wanton summer air,
+	And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
+
+JULIET	Good even to my ghostly confessor.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
+
+JULIET	As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
+
+ROMEO	Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
+	Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more
+	To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
+	This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
+	Unfold the imagined happiness that both
+	Receive in either by this dear encounter.
+
+JULIET	Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
+	Brags of his substance, not of ornament:
+	They are but beggars that can count their worth;
+	But my true love is grown to such excess
+	I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Come, come with me, and we will make short work;
+	For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
+	Till holy church incorporate two in one.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants]
+
+BENVOLIO	I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire:
+	The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
+	And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl;
+	For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
+
+MERCUTIO	Thou art like one of those fellows that when he
+	enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword
+	upon the table and says 'God send me no need of
+	thee!' and by the operation of the second cup draws
+	it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.
+
+BENVOLIO	Am I like such a fellow?
+
+MERCUTIO	Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as
+	any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as
+	soon moody to be moved.
+
+BENVOLIO	And what to?
+
+MERCUTIO	Nay, an there were two such, we should have none
+	shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why,
+	thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more,
+	or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast: thou
+	wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no
+	other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: what
+	eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel?
+	Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of
+	meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as
+	an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a
+	man for coughing in the street, because he hath
+	wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun:
+	didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing
+	his new doublet before Easter? with another, for
+	tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou
+	wilt tutor me from quarrelling!
+
+BENVOLIO	An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man
+	should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.
+
+MERCUTIO	The fee-simple! O simple!
+
+BENVOLIO	By my head, here come the Capulets.
+
+MERCUTIO	By my heel, I care not.
+
+	[Enter TYBALT and others]
+
+TYBALT	Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
+	Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you.
+
+MERCUTIO	And but one word with one of us? couple it with
+	something; make it a word and a blow.
+
+TYBALT	You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you
+	will give me occasion.
+
+MERCUTIO	Could you not take some occasion without giving?
+
+TYBALT	Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,--
+
+MERCUTIO	Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an
+	thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but
+	discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall
+	make you dance. 'Zounds, consort!
+
+BENVOLIO	We talk here in the public haunt of men:
+	Either withdraw unto some private place,
+	And reason coldly of your grievances,
+	Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.
+
+MERCUTIO	Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;
+	I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
+
+	[Enter ROMEO]
+
+TYBALT	Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man.
+
+MERCUTIO	But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery:
+	Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower;
+	Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.'
+
+TYBALT	Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford
+	No better term than this,--thou art a villain.
+
+ROMEO	Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
+	Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
+	To such a greeting: villain am I none;
+	Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not.
+
+TYBALT	Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
+	That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
+
+ROMEO	I do protest, I never injured thee,
+	But love thee better than thou canst devise,
+	Till thou shalt know the reason of my love:
+	And so, good Capulet,--which name I tender
+	As dearly as my own,--be satisfied.
+
+MERCUTIO	O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
+	Alla stoccata carries it away.
+
+	[Draws]
+
+	Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
+
+TYBALT	What wouldst thou have with me?
+
+MERCUTIO	Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine
+	lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as you
+	shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the
+	eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher
+	by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your
+	ears ere it be out.
+
+TYBALT	I am for you.
+
+	[Drawing]
+
+ROMEO	Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
+
+MERCUTIO	Come, sir, your passado.
+
+	[They fight]
+
+ROMEO	Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.
+	Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!
+	Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath
+	Forbidden bandying in Verona streets:
+	Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio!
+
+	[TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies
+	with his followers]
+
+MERCUTIO	I am hurt.
+	A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.
+	Is he gone, and hath nothing?
+
+BENVOLIO	What, art thou hurt?
+
+MERCUTIO	Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.
+	Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
+
+	[Exit Page]
+
+ROMEO	Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
+
+MERCUTIO	No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a
+	church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for
+	me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I
+	am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o'
+	both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a
+	cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a
+	rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of
+	arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I
+	was hurt under your arm.
+
+ROMEO	I thought all for the best.
+
+MERCUTIO	Help me into some house, Benvolio,
+	Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses!
+	They have made worms' meat of me: I have it,
+	And soundly too: your houses!
+
+	[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO]
+
+ROMEO	This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
+	My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
+	In my behalf; my reputation stain'd
+	With Tybalt's slander,--Tybalt, that an hour
+	Hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet,
+	Thy beauty hath made me effeminate
+	And in my temper soften'd valour's steel!
+
+	[Re-enter BENVOLIO]
+
+BENVOLIO	O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!
+	That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds,
+	Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
+
+ROMEO	This day's black fate on more days doth depend;
+	This but begins the woe, others must end.
+
+BENVOLIO	Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
+
+ROMEO	Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain!
+	Away to heaven, respective lenity,
+	And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now!
+
+	[Re-enter TYBALT]
+
+	Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again,
+	That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul
+	Is but a little way above our heads,
+	Staying for thine to keep him company:
+	Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
+
+TYBALT	Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
+	Shalt with him hence.
+
+ROMEO	This shall determine that.
+
+	[They fight; TYBALT falls]
+
+BENVOLIO	Romeo, away, be gone!
+	The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.
+	Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death,
+	If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!
+
+ROMEO	O, I am fortune's fool!
+
+BENVOLIO	Why dost thou stay?
+
+	[Exit ROMEO]
+
+	[Enter Citizens, &c]
+
+First Citizen	Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?
+	Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?
+
+BENVOLIO	There lies that Tybalt.
+
+First Citizen	Up, sir, go with me;
+	I charge thee in the princes name, obey.
+
+	[Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their
+	Wives, and others]
+
+PRINCE	Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
+
+BENVOLIO	O noble prince, I can discover all
+	The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:
+	There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
+	That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
+
+LADY CAPULET	Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!
+	O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt
+	O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,
+	For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.
+	O cousin, cousin!
+
+PRINCE	Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
+
+BENVOLIO	Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;
+	Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
+	How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal
+	Your high displeasure: all this uttered
+	With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,
+	Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
+	Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts
+	With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast,
+	Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
+	And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
+	Cold death aside, and with the other sends
+	It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity,
+	Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,
+	'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter than
+	his tongue,
+	His agile arm beats down their fatal points,
+	And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm
+	An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
+	Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled;
+	But by and by comes back to Romeo,
+	Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
+	And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I
+	Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain.
+	And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly.
+	This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
+
+LADY CAPULET	He is a kinsman to the Montague;
+	Affection makes him false; he speaks not true:
+	Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
+	And all those twenty could but kill one life.
+	I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give;
+	Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.
+
+PRINCE	Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;
+	Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
+
+MONTAGUE	Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend;
+	His fault concludes but what the law should end,
+	The life of Tybalt.
+
+PRINCE	And for that offence
+	Immediately we do exile him hence:
+	I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,
+	My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding;
+	But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine
+	That you shall all repent the loss of mine:
+	I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
+	Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses:
+	Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste,
+	Else, when he's found, that hour is his last.
+	Bear hence this body and attend our will:
+	Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Capulet's orchard.
+
+
+	[Enter JULIET]
+
+JULIET	Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
+	Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner
+	As Phaethon would whip you to the west,
+	And bring in cloudy night immediately.
+	Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,
+	That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo
+	Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen.
+	Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
+	By their own beauties; or, if love be blind,
+	It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
+	Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
+	And learn me how to lose a winning match,
+	Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:
+	Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,
+	With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,
+	Think true love acted simple modesty.
+	Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
+	For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
+	Whiter than new snow on a raven's back.
+	Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,
+	Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
+	Take him and cut him out in little stars,
+	And he will make the face of heaven so fine
+	That all the world will be in love with night
+	And pay no worship to the garish sun.
+	O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
+	But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold,
+	Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day
+	As is the night before some festival
+	To an impatient child that hath new robes
+	And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,
+	And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks
+	But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.
+
+	[Enter Nurse, with cords]
+
+	Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords
+	That Romeo bid thee fetch?
+
+Nurse	Ay, ay, the cords.
+
+	[Throws them down]
+
+JULIET	Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?
+
+Nurse	Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!
+	We are undone, lady, we are undone!
+	Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
+
+JULIET	Can heaven be so envious?
+
+Nurse	Romeo can,
+	Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo!
+	Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!
+
+JULIET	What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?
+	This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
+	Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,'
+	And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more
+	Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice:
+	I am not I, if there be such an I;
+	Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.'
+	If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no:
+	Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
+
+Nurse	I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,--
+	God save the mark!--here on his manly breast:
+	A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
+	Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
+	All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight.
+
+JULIET	O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once!
+	To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty!
+	Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;
+	And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!
+
+Nurse	O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
+	O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
+	That ever I should live to see thee dead!
+
+JULIET	What storm is this that blows so contrary?
+	Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead?
+	My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord?
+	Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
+	For who is living, if those two are gone?
+
+Nurse	Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
+	Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.
+
+JULIET	O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
+
+Nurse	It did, it did; alas the day, it did!
+
+JULIET	O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!
+	Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
+	Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
+	Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!
+	Despised substance of divinest show!
+	Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
+	A damned saint, an honourable villain!
+	O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,
+	When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
+	In moral paradise of such sweet flesh?
+	Was ever book containing such vile matter
+	So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell
+	In such a gorgeous palace!
+
+Nurse	There's no trust,
+	No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured,
+	All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
+	Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae:
+	These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
+	Shame come to Romeo!
+
+JULIET	Blister'd be thy tongue
+	For such a wish! he was not born to shame:
+	Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit;
+	For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
+	Sole monarch of the universal earth.
+	O, what a beast was I to chide at him!
+
+Nurse	Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?
+
+JULIET	Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
+	Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,
+	When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?
+	But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?
+	That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband:
+	Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;
+	Your tributary drops belong to woe,
+	Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.
+	My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;
+	And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband:
+	All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?
+	Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,
+	That murder'd me: I would forget it fain;
+	But, O, it presses to my memory,
+	Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds:
+	'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished;'
+	That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,'
+	Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death
+	Was woe enough, if it had ended there:
+	Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship
+	And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,
+	Why follow'd not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,'
+	Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,
+	Which modern lamentations might have moved?
+	But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death,
+	'Romeo is banished,' to speak that word,
+	Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
+	All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!'
+	There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
+	In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.
+	Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?
+
+Nurse	Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse:
+	Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.
+
+JULIET	Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent,
+	When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.
+	Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled,
+	Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled:
+	He made you for a highway to my bed;
+	But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
+	Come, cords, come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed;
+	And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
+
+Nurse	Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo
+	To comfort you: I wot well where he is.
+	Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night:
+	I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.
+
+JULIET	O, find him! give this ring to my true knight,
+	And bid him come to take his last farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Friar Laurence's cell.
+
+
+	[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE]
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man:
+	Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
+	And thou art wedded to calamity.
+
+	[Enter ROMEO]
+
+ROMEO	Father, what news? what is the prince's doom?
+	What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
+	That I yet know not?
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Too familiar
+	Is my dear son with such sour company:
+	I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
+
+ROMEO	What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom?
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips,
+	Not body's death, but body's banishment.
+
+ROMEO	Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;'
+	For exile hath more terror in his look,
+	Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.'
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Hence from Verona art thou banished:
+	Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
+
+ROMEO	There is no world without Verona walls,
+	But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
+	Hence-banished is banish'd from the world,
+	And world's exile is death: then banished,
+	Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment,
+	Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,
+	And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
+	Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,
+	Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,
+	And turn'd that black word death to banishment:
+	This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
+
+ROMEO	'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,
+	Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog
+	And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
+	Live here in heaven and may look on her;
+	But Romeo may not: more validity,
+	More honourable state, more courtship lives
+	In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize
+	On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand
+	And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
+	Who even in pure and vestal modesty,
+	Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;
+	But Romeo may not; he is banished:
+	Flies may do this, but I from this must fly:
+	They are free men, but I am banished.
+	And say'st thou yet that exile is not death?
+	Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife,
+	No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
+	But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'?
+	O friar, the damned use that word in hell;
+	Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart,
+	Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
+	A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
+	To mangle me with that word 'banished'?
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word.
+
+ROMEO	O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	I'll give thee armour to keep off that word:
+	Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
+	To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
+
+ROMEO	Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy!
+	Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
+	Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,
+	It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
+
+ROMEO	How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
+
+ROMEO	Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel:
+	Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
+	An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
+	Doting like me and like me banished,
+	Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,
+	And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
+	Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
+
+	[Knocking within]
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself.
+
+ROMEO	Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,
+	Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes.
+
+	[Knocking]
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise;
+	Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up;
+
+	[Knocking]
+
+	Run to my study. By and by! God's will,
+	What simpleness is this! I come, I come!
+
+	[Knocking]
+
+	Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will?
+
+Nurse	[Within]  Let me come in, and you shall know
+	my errand;
+	I come from Lady Juliet.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Welcome, then.
+
+	[Enter Nurse]
+
+Nurse	O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
+	Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
+
+Nurse	O, he is even in my mistress' case,
+	Just in her case! O woful sympathy!
+	Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,
+	Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
+	Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man:
+	For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand;
+	Why should you fall into so deep an O?
+
+ROMEO	Nurse!
+
+Nurse	Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all.
+
+ROMEO	Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her?
+	Doth she not think me an old murderer,
+	Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy
+	With blood removed but little from her own?
+	Where is she? and how doth she? and what says
+	My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?
+
+Nurse	O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;
+	And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,
+	And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,
+	And then down falls again.
+
+ROMEO	As if that name,
+	Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
+	Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand
+	Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,
+	In what vile part of this anatomy
+	Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack
+	The hateful mansion.
+
+	[Drawing his sword]
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Hold thy desperate hand:
+	Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art:
+	Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote
+	The unreasonable fury of a beast:
+	Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
+	Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
+	Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order,
+	I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
+	Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
+	And stay thy lady too that lives in thee,
+	By doing damned hate upon thyself?
+	Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?
+	Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet
+	In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose.
+	Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit;
+	Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,
+	And usest none in that true use indeed
+	Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit:
+	Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
+	Digressing from the valour of a man;
+	Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,
+	Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;
+	Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
+	Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
+	Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask,
+	Is set afire by thine own ignorance,
+	And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.
+	What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
+	For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;
+	There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee,
+	But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too:
+	The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend
+	And turns it to exile; there art thou happy:
+	A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back;
+	Happiness courts thee in her best array;
+	But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,
+	Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love:
+	Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
+	Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
+	Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her:
+	But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
+	For then thou canst not pass to Mantua;
+	Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time
+	To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
+	Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back
+	With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
+	Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.
+	Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady;
+	And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
+	Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto:
+	Romeo is coming.
+
+Nurse	O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night
+	To hear good counsel: O, what learning is!
+	My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
+
+ROMEO	Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.
+
+Nurse	Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir:
+	Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+ROMEO	How well my comfort is revived by this!
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state:
+	Either be gone before the watch be set,
+	Or by the break of day disguised from hence:
+	Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,
+	And he shall signify from time to time
+	Every good hap to you that chances here:
+	Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night.
+
+ROMEO	But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
+	It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	A room in Capulet's house.
+
+
+	[Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS]
+
+CAPULET	Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily,
+	That we have had no time to move our daughter:
+	Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
+	And so did I:--Well, we were born to die.
+	'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night:
+	I promise you, but for your company,
+	I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
+
+PARIS	These times of woe afford no time to woo.
+	Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter.
+
+LADY CAPULET	I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;
+	To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness.
+
+CAPULET	Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
+	Of my child's love: I think she will be ruled
+	In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not.
+	Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
+	Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love;
+	And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next--
+	But, soft! what day is this?
+
+PARIS	Monday, my lord,
+
+CAPULET	Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon,
+	O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her,
+	She shall be married to this noble earl.
+	Will you be ready? do you like this haste?
+	We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two;
+	For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
+	It may be thought we held him carelessly,
+	Being our kinsman, if we revel much:
+	Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,
+	And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?
+
+PARIS	My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.
+
+CAPULET	Well get you gone: o' Thursday be it, then.
+	Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed,
+	Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.
+	Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho!
+	Afore me! it is so very very late,
+	That we may call it early by and by.
+	Good night.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Capulet's orchard.
+
+
+	[Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window]
+
+JULIET	Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
+	It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
+	That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;
+	Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree:
+	Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
+
+ROMEO	It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
+	No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks
+	Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
+	Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
+	Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
+	I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
+
+JULIET	Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I:
+	It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
+	To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
+	And light thee on thy way to Mantua:
+	Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.
+
+ROMEO	Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
+	I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
+	I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye,
+	'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
+	Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
+	The vaulty heaven so high above our heads:
+	I have more care to stay than will to go:
+	Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.
+	How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day.
+
+JULIET	It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away!
+	It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
+	Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
+	Some say the lark makes sweet division;
+	This doth not so, for she divideth us:
+	Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes,
+	O, now I would they had changed voices too!
+	Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
+	Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day,
+	O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.
+
+ROMEO	More light and light; more dark and dark our woes!
+
+	[Enter Nurse, to the chamber]
+
+Nurse	Madam!
+
+JULIET	Nurse?
+
+Nurse	Your lady mother is coming to your chamber:
+	The day is broke; be wary, look about.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+JULIET	Then, window, let day in, and let life out.
+
+ROMEO	Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend.
+
+	[He goeth down]
+
+JULIET	Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend!
+	I must hear from thee every day in the hour,
+	For in a minute there are many days:
+	O, by this count I shall be much in years
+	Ere I again behold my Romeo!
+
+ROMEO	Farewell!
+	I will omit no opportunity
+	That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
+
+JULIET	O think'st thou we shall ever meet again?
+
+ROMEO	I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve
+	For sweet discourses in our time to come.
+
+JULIET	O God, I have an ill-divining soul!
+	Methinks I see thee, now thou art below,
+	As one dead in the bottom of a tomb:
+	Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.
+
+ROMEO	And trust me, love, in my eye so do you:
+	Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+JULIET	O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle:
+	If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him.
+	That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune;
+	For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long,
+	But send him back.
+
+LADY CAPULET	[Within]         Ho, daughter! are you up?
+
+JULIET	Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother?
+	Is she not down so late, or up so early?
+	What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?
+
+	[Enter LADY CAPULET]
+
+LADY CAPULET	Why, how now, Juliet!
+
+JULIET	Madam, I am not well.
+
+LADY CAPULET	Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?
+	What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
+	An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live;
+	Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love;
+	But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
+
+JULIET	Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
+
+LADY CAPULET	So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend
+	Which you weep for.
+
+JULIET	Feeling so the loss,
+	Cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
+
+LADY CAPULET	Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death,
+	As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.
+
+JULIET	What villain madam?
+
+LADY CAPULET	That same villain, Romeo.
+
+JULIET	[Aside]  Villain and he be many miles asunder.--
+	God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart;
+	And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.
+
+LADY CAPULET	That is, because the traitor murderer lives.
+
+JULIET	Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands:
+	Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!
+
+LADY CAPULET	We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not:
+	Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,
+	Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,
+	Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram,
+	That he shall soon keep Tybalt company:
+	And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.
+
+JULIET	Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
+	With Romeo, till I behold him--dead--
+	Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd.
+	Madam, if you could find out but a man
+	To bear a poison, I would temper it;
+	That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
+	Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
+	To hear him named, and cannot come to him.
+	To wreak the love I bore my cousin
+	Upon his body that slaughter'd him!
+
+LADY CAPULET	Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man.
+	But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
+
+JULIET	And joy comes well in such a needy time:
+	What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
+
+LADY CAPULET	Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child;
+	One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
+	Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
+	That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for.
+
+JULIET	Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
+
+LADY CAPULET	Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,
+	The gallant, young and noble gentleman,
+	The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church,
+	Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
+
+JULIET	Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too,
+	He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
+	I wonder at this haste; that I must wed
+	Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo.
+	I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,
+	I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear,
+	It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
+	Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!
+
+LADY CAPULET	Here comes your father; tell him so yourself,
+	And see how he will take it at your hands.
+
+	[Enter CAPULET and Nurse]
+
+CAPULET	When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew;
+	But for the sunset of my brother's son
+	It rains downright.
+	How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?
+	Evermore showering? In one little body
+	Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind;
+	For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
+	Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,
+	Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs;
+	Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them,
+	Without a sudden calm, will overset
+	Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife!
+	Have you deliver'd to her our decree?
+
+LADY CAPULET	Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.
+	I would the fool were married to her grave!
+
+CAPULET	Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.
+	How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks?
+	Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest,
+	Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
+	So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
+
+JULIET	Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have:
+	Proud can I never be of what I hate;
+	But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.
+
+CAPULET	How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this?
+	'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;'
+	And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you,
+	Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds,
+	But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next,
+	To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,
+	Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
+	Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage!
+	You tallow-face!
+
+LADY CAPULET	                  Fie, fie! what, are you mad?
+
+JULIET	Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
+	Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
+
+CAPULET	Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!
+	I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday,
+	Or never after look me in the face:
+	Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;
+	My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest
+	That God had lent us but this only child;
+	But now I see this one is one too much,
+	And that we have a curse in having her:
+	Out on her, hilding!
+
+Nurse	God in heaven bless her!
+	You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
+
+CAPULET	And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue,
+	Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.
+
+Nurse	I speak no treason.
+
+CAPULET	O, God ye god-den.
+
+Nurse	May not one speak?
+
+CAPULET	                  Peace, you mumbling fool!
+	Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl;
+	For here we need it not.
+
+LADY CAPULET	You are too hot.
+
+CAPULET	God's bread! it makes me mad:
+	Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,
+	Alone, in company, still my care hath been
+	To have her match'd: and having now provided
+	A gentleman of noble parentage,
+	Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
+	Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,
+	Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man;
+	And then to have a wretched puling fool,
+	A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
+	To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love,
+	I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.'
+	But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you:
+	Graze where you will you shall not house with me:
+	Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest.
+	Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise:
+	An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;
+	And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in
+	the streets,
+	For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
+	Nor what is mine shall never do thee good:
+	Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+JULIET	Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
+	That sees into the bottom of my grief?
+	O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!
+	Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
+	Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed
+	In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
+
+LADY CAPULET	Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:
+	Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+JULIET	O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented?
+	My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven;
+	How shall that faith return again to earth,
+	Unless that husband send it me from heaven
+	By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me.
+	Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems
+	Upon so soft a subject as myself!
+	What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy?
+	Some comfort, nurse.
+
+Nurse	Faith, here it is.
+	Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing,
+	That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you;
+	Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth.
+	Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,
+	I think it best you married with the county.
+	O, he's a lovely gentleman!
+	Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam,
+	Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye
+	As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
+	I think you are happy in this second match,
+	For it excels your first: or if it did not,
+	Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were,
+	As living here and you no use of him.
+
+JULIET	Speakest thou from thy heart?
+
+Nurse	And from my soul too;
+	Or else beshrew them both.
+
+JULIET	Amen!
+
+Nurse	What?
+
+JULIET	Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.
+	Go in: and tell my lady I am gone,
+	Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell,
+	To make confession and to be absolved.
+
+Nurse	Marry, I will; and this is wisely done.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+JULIET	Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!
+	Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,
+	Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue
+	Which she hath praised him with above compare
+	So many thousand times? Go, counsellor;
+	Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.
+	I'll to the friar, to know his remedy:
+	If all else fail, myself have power to die.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Friar Laurence's cell.
+
+
+	[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS]
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	On Thursday, sir? the time is very short.
+
+PARIS	My father Capulet will have it so;
+	And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	You say you do not know the lady's mind:
+	Uneven is the course, I like it not.
+
+PARIS	Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,
+	And therefore have I little talk'd of love;
+	For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
+	Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous
+	That she doth give her sorrow so much sway,
+	And in his wisdom hastes our marriage,
+	To stop the inundation of her tears;
+	Which, too much minded by herself alone,
+	May be put from her by society:
+	Now do you know the reason of this haste.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	[Aside]  I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.
+	Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell.
+
+	[Enter JULIET]
+
+PARIS	Happily met, my lady and my wife!
+
+JULIET	That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
+
+PARIS	That may be must be, love, on Thursday next.
+
+JULIET	What must be shall be.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	That's a certain text.
+
+PARIS	Come you to make confession to this father?
+
+JULIET	To answer that, I should confess to you.
+
+PARIS	Do not deny to him that you love me.
+
+JULIET	I will confess to you that I love him.
+
+PARIS	So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.
+
+JULIET	If I do so, it will be of more price,
+	Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.
+
+PARIS	Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears.
+
+JULIET	The tears have got small victory by that;
+	For it was bad enough before their spite.
+
+PARIS	Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report.
+
+JULIET	That is no slander, sir, which is a truth;
+	And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
+
+PARIS	Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it.
+
+JULIET	It may be so, for it is not mine own.
+	Are you at leisure, holy father, now;
+	Or shall I come to you at evening mass?
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.
+	My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
+
+PARIS	God shield I should disturb devotion!
+	Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye:
+	Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+JULIET	O shut the door! and when thou hast done so,
+	Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help!
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;
+	It strains me past the compass of my wits:
+	I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
+	On Thursday next be married to this county.
+
+JULIET	Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this,
+	Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it:
+	If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help,
+	Do thou but call my resolution wise,
+	And with this knife I'll help it presently.
+	God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;
+	And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd,
+	Shall be the label to another deed,
+	Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
+	Turn to another, this shall slay them both:
+	Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time,
+	Give me some present counsel, or, behold,
+	'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
+	Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that
+	Which the commission of thy years and art
+	Could to no issue of true honour bring.
+	Be not so long to speak; I long to die,
+	If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Hold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope,
+	Which craves as desperate an execution.
+	As that is desperate which we would prevent.
+	If, rather than to marry County Paris,
+	Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,
+	Then is it likely thou wilt undertake
+	A thing like death to chide away this shame,
+	That copest with death himself to scape from it:
+	And, if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy.
+
+JULIET	O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
+	From off the battlements of yonder tower;
+	Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk
+	Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears;
+	Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house,
+	O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
+	With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls;
+	Or bid me go into a new-made grave
+	And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;
+	Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble;
+	And I will do it without fear or doubt,
+	To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent
+	To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow:
+	To-morrow night look that thou lie alone;
+	Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber:
+	Take thou this vial, being then in bed,
+	And this distilled liquor drink thou off;
+	When presently through all thy veins shall run
+	A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse
+	Shall keep his native progress, but surcease:
+	No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest;
+	The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
+	To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall,
+	Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;
+	Each part, deprived of supple government,
+	Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death:
+	And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
+	Thou shalt continue two and forty hours,
+	And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
+	Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes
+	To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:
+	Then, as the manner of our country is,
+	In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier
+	Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault
+	Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
+	In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,
+	Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift,
+	And hither shall he come: and he and I
+	Will watch thy waking, and that very night
+	Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
+	And this shall free thee from this present shame;
+	If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear,
+	Abate thy valour in the acting it.
+
+JULIET	Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear!
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous
+	In this resolve: I'll send a friar with speed
+	To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.
+
+JULIET	Love give me strength! and strength shall help afford.
+	Farewell, dear father!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Hall in Capulet's house.
+
+
+	[Enter CAPULET, LADY  CAPULET, Nurse, and two
+	Servingmen]
+
+CAPULET	So many guests invite as here are writ.
+
+	[Exit First Servant]
+
+	Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
+
+Second Servant	You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they
+	can lick their fingers.
+
+CAPULET	How canst thou try them so?
+
+Second Servant	Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his
+	own fingers: therefore he that cannot lick his
+	fingers goes not with me.
+
+CAPULET	Go, be gone.
+
+	[Exit Second Servant]
+
+	We shall be much unfurnished for this time.
+	What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?
+
+Nurse	Ay, forsooth.
+
+CAPULET	Well, he may chance to do some good on her:
+	A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is.
+
+Nurse	See where she comes from shrift with merry look.
+
+	[Enter JULIET]
+
+CAPULET	How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding?
+
+JULIET	Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin
+	Of disobedient opposition
+	To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd
+	By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here,
+	And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you!
+	Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.
+
+CAPULET	Send for the county; go tell him of this:
+	I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.
+
+JULIET	I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell;
+	And gave him what becomed love I might,
+	Not step o'er the bounds of modesty.
+
+CAPULET	Why, I am glad on't; this is well: stand up:
+	This is as't should be. Let me see the county;
+	Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.
+	Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar,
+	Our whole city is much bound to him.
+
+JULIET	Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,
+	To help me sort such needful ornaments
+	As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?
+
+LADY CAPULET	No, not till Thursday; there is time enough.
+
+CAPULET	Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow.
+
+	[Exeunt JULIET and Nurse]
+
+LADY  CAPULET	We shall be short in our provision:
+	'Tis now near night.
+
+CAPULET	Tush, I will stir about,
+	And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife:
+	Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her;
+	I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone;
+	I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho!
+	They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself
+	To County Paris, to prepare him up
+	Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light,
+	Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Juliet's chamber.
+
+
+	[Enter JULIET and Nurse]
+
+JULIET	Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse,
+	I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night,
+	For I have need of many orisons
+	To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
+	Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin.
+
+	[Enter LADY CAPULET]
+
+LADY CAPULET	What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?
+
+JULIET	No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries
+	As are behoveful for our state to-morrow:
+	So please you, let me now be left alone,
+	And let the nurse this night sit up with you;
+	For, I am sure, you have your hands full all,
+	In this so sudden business.
+
+LADY CAPULET	Good night:
+	Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.
+
+	[Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse]
+
+JULIET	Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
+	I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
+	That almost freezes up the heat of life:
+	I'll call them back again to comfort me:
+	Nurse! What should she do here?
+	My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
+	Come, vial.
+	What if this mixture do not work at all?
+	Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?
+	No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there.
+
+	[Laying down her dagger]
+
+	What if it be a poison, which the friar
+	Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,
+	Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
+	Because he married me before to Romeo?
+	I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,
+	For he hath still been tried a holy man.
+	How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
+	I wake before the time that Romeo
+	Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
+	Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault,
+	To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
+	And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
+	Or, if I live, is it not very like,
+	The horrible conceit of death and night,
+	Together with the terror of the place,--
+	As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
+	Where, for these many hundred years, the bones
+	Of all my buried ancestors are packed:
+	Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
+	Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,
+	At some hours in the night spirits resort;--
+	Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
+	So early waking, what with loathsome smells,
+	And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,
+	That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:--
+	O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
+	Environed with all these hideous fears?
+	And madly play with my forefather's joints?
+	And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
+	And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,
+	As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
+	O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
+	Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
+	Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay!
+	Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.
+
+	[She falls upon her bed, within the curtains]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Hall in Capulet's house.
+
+
+	[Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse]
+
+LADY CAPULET	Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse.
+
+Nurse	They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.
+
+	[Enter CAPULET]
+
+CAPULET	Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd,
+	The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock:
+	Look to the baked meats, good Angelica:
+	Spare not for the cost.
+
+Nurse	Go, you cot-quean, go,
+	Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrow
+	For this night's watching.
+
+CAPULET	No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere now
+	All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.
+
+LADY CAPULET	Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time;
+	But I will watch you from such watching now.
+
+	[Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse]
+
+CAPULET	A jealous hood, a jealous hood!
+
+	[Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs,
+	and baskets]
+
+		          Now, fellow,
+	What's there?
+
+First Servant	Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what.
+
+CAPULET	Make haste, make haste.
+
+	[Exit First Servant]
+
+		  Sirrah, fetch drier logs:
+	Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.
+
+Second Servant	I have a head, sir, that will find out logs,
+	And never trouble Peter for the matter.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+CAPULET	Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!
+	Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day:
+	The county will be here with music straight,
+	For so he said he would: I hear him near.
+
+	[Music within]
+
+	Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say!
+
+	[Re-enter Nurse]
+
+	Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up;
+	I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste,
+	Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already:
+	Make haste, I say.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE V	Juliet's chamber.
+
+
+	[Enter Nurse]
+
+Nurse	Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she:
+	Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed!
+	Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride!
+	What, not a word? you take your pennyworths now;
+	Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
+	The County Paris hath set up his rest,
+	That you shall rest but little. God forgive me,
+	Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep!
+	I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam!
+	Ay, let the county take you in your bed;
+	He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be?
+
+	[Undraws the curtains]
+
+	What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again!
+	I must needs wake you; Lady! lady! lady!
+	Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady's dead!
+	O, well-a-day, that ever I was born!
+	Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! my lady!
+
+	[Enter LADY CAPULET]
+
+LADY CAPULET	What noise is here?
+
+Nurse	O lamentable day!
+
+LADY CAPULET	What is the matter?
+
+Nurse	Look, look! O heavy day!
+
+LADY CAPULET	O me, O me! My child, my only life,
+	Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!
+	Help, help! Call help.
+
+	[Enter CAPULET]
+
+CAPULET	For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.
+
+Nurse	She's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day!
+
+LADY CAPULET	Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead!
+
+CAPULET	Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she's cold:
+	Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;
+	Life and these lips have long been separated:
+	Death lies on her like an untimely frost
+	Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
+
+Nurse	O lamentable day!
+
+LADY CAPULET	                  O woful time!
+
+CAPULET	Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,
+	Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.
+
+	[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians]
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
+
+CAPULET	Ready to go, but never to return.
+	O son! the night before thy wedding-day
+	Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies,
+	Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
+	Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir;
+	My daughter he hath wedded: I will die,
+	And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's.
+
+PARIS	Have I thought long to see this morning's face,
+	And doth it give me such a sight as this?
+
+LADY CAPULET	Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
+	Most miserable hour that e'er time saw
+	In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!
+	But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
+	But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
+	And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight!
+
+Nurse	O woe! O woful, woful, woful day!
+	Most lamentable day, most woful day,
+	That ever, ever, I did yet behold!
+	O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
+	Never was seen so black a day as this:
+	O woful day, O woful day!
+
+PARIS	Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
+	Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd,
+	By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!
+	O love! O life! not life, but love in death!
+
+CAPULET	Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!
+	Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now
+	To murder, murder our solemnity?
+	O child! O child! my soul, and not my child!
+	Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead;
+	And with my child my joys are buried.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives not
+	In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
+	Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,
+	And all the better is it for the maid:
+	Your part in her you could not keep from death,
+	But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
+	The most you sought was her promotion;
+	For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced:
+	And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced
+	Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
+	O, in this love, you love your child so ill,
+	That you run mad, seeing that she is well:
+	She's not well married that lives married long;
+	But she's best married that dies married young.
+	Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
+	On this fair corse; and, as the custom is,
+	In all her best array bear her to church:
+	For though fond nature bids us an lament,
+	Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
+
+CAPULET	All things that we ordained festival,
+	Turn from their office to black funeral;
+	Our instruments to melancholy bells,
+	Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast,
+	Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,
+	Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
+	And all things change them to the contrary.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him;
+	And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare
+	To follow this fair corse unto her grave:
+	The heavens do lour upon you for some ill;
+	Move them no more by crossing their high will.
+
+	[Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAURENCE]
+
+First Musician	Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone.
+
+Nurse	Honest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up;
+	For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+First Musician	Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
+
+	[Enter PETER]
+
+PETER	Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart's
+	ease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.'
+
+First Musician	Why 'Heart's ease?'
+
+PETER	O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'My
+	heart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump,
+	to comfort me.
+
+First Musician	Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now.
+
+PETER	You will not, then?
+
+First Musician	No.
+
+PETER	I will then give it you soundly.
+
+First Musician	What will you give us?
+
+PETER	No money, on my faith, but the gleek;
+	I will give you the minstrel.
+
+First Musician	Then I will give you the serving-creature.
+
+PETER	Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on
+	your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you,
+	I'll fa you; do you note me?
+
+First Musician	An you re us and fa us, you note us.
+
+Second Musician	Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
+
+PETER	Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you
+	with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer
+	me like men:
+	'When griping grief the heart doth wound,
+	And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
+	Then music with her silver sound'--
+	why 'silver sound'? why 'music with her silver
+	sound'? What say you, Simon Catling?
+
+Musician	Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.
+
+PETER	Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck?
+
+Second Musician	I say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver.
+
+PETER	Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?
+
+Third Musician	Faith, I know not what to say.
+
+PETER	O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say
+	for you. It is 'music with her silver sound,'
+	because musicians have no gold for sounding:
+	'Then music with her silver sound
+	With speedy help doth lend redress.'
+
+	[Exit]
+
+First Musician	What a pestilent knave is this same!
+
+Second Musician	Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the
+	mourners, and stay dinner.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Mantua. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter ROMEO]
+
+ROMEO	If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,
+	My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:
+	My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne;
+	And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit
+	Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
+	I dreamt my lady came and found me dead--
+	Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave
+	to think!--
+	And breathed such life with kisses in my lips,
+	That I revived, and was an emperor.
+	Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
+	When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!
+
+	[Enter BALTHASAR, booted]
+
+	News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar!
+	Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
+	How doth my lady? Is my father well?
+	How fares my Juliet? that I ask again;
+	For nothing can be ill, if she be well.
+
+BALTHASAR	Then she is well, and nothing can be ill:
+	Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,
+	And her immortal part with angels lives.
+	I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
+	And presently took post to tell it you:
+	O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,
+	Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
+
+ROMEO	Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!
+	Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper,
+	And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.
+
+BALTHASAR	I do beseech you, sir, have patience:
+	Your looks are pale and wild, and do import
+	Some misadventure.
+
+ROMEO	                  Tush, thou art deceived:
+	Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.
+	Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
+
+BALTHASAR	No, my good lord.
+
+ROMEO	                  No matter: get thee gone,
+	And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.
+
+	[Exit BALTHASAR]
+
+	Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
+	Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swift
+	To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
+	I do remember an apothecary,--
+	And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I noted
+	In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
+	Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,
+	Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:
+	And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
+	An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
+	Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves
+	A beggarly account of empty boxes,
+	Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds,
+	Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses,
+	Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.
+	Noting this penury, to myself I said
+	'An if a man did need a poison now,
+	Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
+	Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.'
+	O, this same thought did but forerun my need;
+	And this same needy man must sell it me.
+	As I remember, this should be the house.
+	Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.
+	What, ho! apothecary!
+
+	[Enter Apothecary]
+
+Apothecary	Who calls so loud?
+
+ROMEO	Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor:
+	Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have
+	A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
+	As will disperse itself through all the veins
+	That the life-weary taker may fall dead
+	And that the trunk may be discharged of breath
+	As violently as hasty powder fired
+	Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
+
+Apothecary	Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law
+	Is death to any he that utters them.
+
+ROMEO	Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,
+	And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,
+	Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,
+	Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back;
+	The world is not thy friend nor the world's law;
+	The world affords no law to make thee rich;
+	Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
+
+Apothecary	My poverty, but not my will, consents.
+
+ROMEO	I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
+
+Apothecary	Put this in any liquid thing you will,
+	And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
+	Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
+
+ROMEO	There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls,
+	Doing more murders in this loathsome world,
+	Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
+	I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none.
+	Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh.
+	Come, cordial and not poison, go with me
+	To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Friar Laurence's cell.
+
+
+	[Enter FRIAR JOHN]
+
+FRIAR JOHN	Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!
+
+	[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE]
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	This same should be the voice of Friar John.
+	Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo?
+	Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
+
+FRIAR JOHN	Going to find a bare-foot brother out
+	One of our order, to associate me,
+	Here in this city visiting the sick,
+	And finding him, the searchers of the town,
+	Suspecting that we both were in a house
+	Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
+	Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;
+	So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?
+
+FRIAR JOHN	I could not send it,--here it is again,--
+	Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
+	So fearful were they of infection.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,
+	The letter was not nice but full of charge
+	Of dear import, and the neglecting it
+	May do much danger. Friar John, go hence;
+	Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight
+	Unto my cell.
+
+FRIAR JOHN	Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Now must I to the monument alone;
+	Within three hours will fair Juliet wake:
+	She will beshrew me much that Romeo
+	Hath had no notice of these accidents;
+	But I will write again to Mantua,
+	And keep her at my cell till Romeo come;
+	Poor living corse, closed in a dead man's tomb!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	ROMEO AND JULIET
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets.
+
+
+	[Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch]
+
+PARIS	Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof:
+	Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
+	Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along,
+	Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;
+	So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,
+	Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,
+	But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me,
+	As signal that thou hear'st something approach.
+	Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
+
+PAGE	[Aside]  I am almost afraid to stand alone
+	Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.
+
+	[Retires]
+
+PARIS	Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew,--
+	O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones;--
+	Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,
+	Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans:
+	The obsequies that I for thee will keep
+	Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.
+
+	[The Page whistles]
+
+	The boy gives warning something doth approach.
+	What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,
+	To cross my obsequies and true love's rite?
+	What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile.
+
+	[Retires]
+
+	[Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch,
+	mattock, &c]
+
+ROMEO	Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron.
+	Hold, take this letter; early in the morning
+	See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
+	Give me the light: upon thy life, I charge thee,
+	Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof,
+	And do not interrupt me in my course.
+	Why I descend into this bed of death,
+	Is partly to behold my lady's face;
+	But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger
+	A precious ring, a ring that I must use
+	In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone:
+	But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry
+	In what I further shall intend to do,
+	By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint
+	And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs:
+	The time and my intents are savage-wild,
+	More fierce and more inexorable far
+	Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.
+
+BALTHASAR	I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
+
+ROMEO	So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that:
+	Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow.
+
+BALTHASAR	[Aside]  For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout:
+	His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.
+
+	[Retires]
+
+ROMEO	Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,
+	Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth,
+	Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,
+	And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!
+
+	[Opens the tomb]
+
+PARIS	This is that banish'd haughty Montague,
+	That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief,
+	It is supposed, the fair creature died;
+	And here is come to do some villanous shame
+	To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.
+
+	[Comes forward]
+
+	Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague!
+	Can vengeance be pursued further than death?
+	Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee:
+	Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.
+
+ROMEO	I must indeed; and therefore came I hither.
+	Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man;
+	Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone;
+	Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,
+	Put not another sin upon my head,
+	By urging me to fury: O, be gone!
+	By heaven, I love thee better than myself;
+	For I come hither arm'd against myself:
+	Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say,
+	A madman's mercy bade thee run away.
+
+PARIS	I do defy thy conjurations,
+	And apprehend thee for a felon here.
+
+ROMEO	Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy!
+
+	[They fight]
+
+PAGE	O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+PARIS	O, I am slain!
+
+	[Falls]
+
+	If thou be merciful,
+	Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+ROMEO	In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face.
+	Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris!
+	What said my man, when my betossed soul
+	Did not attend him as we rode? I think
+	He told me Paris should have married Juliet:
+	Said he not so? or did I dream it so?
+	Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
+	To think it was so? O, give me thy hand,
+	One writ with me in sour misfortune's book!
+	I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave;
+	A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth,
+	For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
+	This vault a feasting presence full of light.
+	Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.
+
+	[Laying PARIS in the tomb]
+
+	How oft when men are at the point of death
+	Have they been merry! which their keepers call
+	A lightning before death: O, how may I
+	Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife!
+	Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,
+	Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty:
+	Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet
+	Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
+	And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
+	Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?
+	O, what more favour can I do to thee,
+	Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain
+	To sunder his that was thine enemy?
+	Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet,
+	Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe
+	That unsubstantial death is amorous,
+	And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
+	Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
+	For fear of that, I still will stay with thee;
+	And never from this palace of dim night
+	Depart again: here, here will I remain
+	With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here
+	Will I set up my everlasting rest,
+	And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
+	From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!
+	Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you
+	The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
+	A dateless bargain to engrossing death!
+	Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!
+	Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
+	The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!
+	Here's to my love!
+
+	[Drinks]
+
+	O true apothecary!
+	Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
+
+	[Dies]
+
+	[Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR
+	LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade]
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night
+	Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there?
+
+BALTHASAR	Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,
+	What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light
+	To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,
+	It burneth in the Capel's monument.
+
+BALTHASAR	It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,
+	One that you love.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	                  Who is it?
+
+BALTHASAR	Romeo.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	How long hath he been there?
+
+BALTHASAR	Full half an hour.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Go with me to the vault.
+
+BALTHASAR	I dare not, sir
+	My master knows not but I am gone hence;
+	And fearfully did menace me with death,
+	If I did stay to look on his intents.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me:
+	O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing.
+
+BALTHASAR	As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,
+	I dreamt my master and another fought,
+	And that my master slew him.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	Romeo!
+
+	[Advances]
+
+	Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains
+	The stony entrance of this sepulchre?
+	What mean these masterless and gory swords
+	To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?
+
+	[Enters the tomb]
+
+	Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too?
+	And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour
+	Is guilty of this lamentable chance!
+	The lady stirs.
+
+	[JULIET wakes]
+
+JULIET	O comfortable friar! where is my lord?
+	I do remember well where I should be,
+	And there I am. Where is my Romeo?
+
+	[Noise within]
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest
+	Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep:
+	A greater power than we can contradict
+	Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away.
+	Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;
+	And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee
+	Among a sisterhood of holy nuns:
+	Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;
+	Come, go, good Juliet,
+
+	[Noise again]
+
+		 I dare no longer stay.
+
+JULIET	Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.
+
+	[Exit FRIAR LAURENCE]
+
+	What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand?
+	Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:
+	O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop
+	To help me after? I will kiss thy lips;
+	Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,
+	To make die with a restorative.
+
+	[Kisses him]
+
+	Thy lips are warm.
+
+First Watchman	[Within]  Lead, boy: which way?
+
+JULIET	Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!
+
+	[Snatching ROMEO's dagger]
+
+	This is thy sheath;
+
+	[Stabs herself]
+
+	there rust, and let me die.
+
+	[Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies]
+
+	[Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS]
+
+PAGE	This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.
+
+First Watchman	The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard:
+	Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach.
+	Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain,
+	And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead,
+	Who here hath lain these two days buried.
+	Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets:
+	Raise up the Montagues: some others search:
+	We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
+	But the true ground of all these piteous woes
+	We cannot without circumstance descry.
+
+	[Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR]
+
+Second Watchman	Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard.
+
+First Watchman	Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither.
+
+	[Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE]
+
+Third Watchman	Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps:
+	We took this mattock and this spade from him,
+	As he was coming from this churchyard side.
+
+First Watchman	A great suspicion: stay the friar too.
+
+	[Enter the PRINCE and Attendants]
+
+PRINCE	What misadventure is so early up,
+	That calls our person from our morning's rest?
+
+	[Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others]
+
+CAPULET	What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?
+
+LADY CAPULET	The people in the street cry Romeo,
+	Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run,
+	With open outcry toward our monument.
+
+PRINCE	What fear is this which startles in our ears?
+
+First Watchman	Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain;
+	And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,
+	Warm and new kill'd.
+
+PRINCE	Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes.
+
+First Watchman	Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man;
+	With instruments upon them, fit to open
+	These dead men's tombs.
+
+CAPULET	O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!
+	This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his house
+	Is empty on the back of Montague,--
+	And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom!
+
+LADY CAPULET	O me! this sight of death is as a bell,
+	That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
+
+	[Enter MONTAGUE and others]
+
+PRINCE	Come, Montague; for thou art early up,
+	To see thy son and heir more early down.
+
+MONTAGUE	Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;
+	Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath:
+	What further woe conspires against mine age?
+
+PRINCE	Look, and thou shalt see.
+
+MONTAGUE	O thou untaught! what manners is in this?
+	To press before thy father to a grave?
+
+PRINCE	Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,
+	Till we can clear these ambiguities,
+	And know their spring, their head, their
+	true descent;
+	And then will I be general of your woes,
+	And lead you even to death: meantime forbear,
+	And let mischance be slave to patience.
+	Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	I am the greatest, able to do least,
+	Yet most suspected, as the time and place
+	Doth make against me of this direful murder;
+	And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
+	Myself condemned and myself excused.
+
+PRINCE	Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
+
+FRIAR LAURENCE	I will be brief, for my short date of breath
+	Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
+	Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;
+	And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife:
+	I married them; and their stol'n marriage-day
+	Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death
+	Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from the city,
+	For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined.
+	You, to remove that siege of grief from her,
+	Betroth'd and would have married her perforce
+	To County Paris: then comes she to me,
+	And, with wild looks, bid me devise some mean
+	To rid her from this second marriage,
+	Or in my cell there would she kill herself.
+	Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art,
+	A sleeping potion; which so took effect
+	As I intended, for it wrought on her
+	The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo,
+	That he should hither come as this dire night,
+	To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,
+	Being the time the potion's force should cease.
+	But he which bore my letter, Friar John,
+	Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight
+	Return'd my letter back. Then all alone
+	At the prefixed hour of her waking,
+	Came I to take her from her kindred's vault;
+	Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,
+	Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:
+	But when I came, some minute ere the time
+	Of her awaking, here untimely lay
+	The noble Paris and true Romeo dead.
+	She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,
+	And bear this work of heaven with patience:
+	But then a noise did scare me from the tomb;
+	And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
+	But, as it seems, did violence on herself.
+	All this I know; and to the marriage
+	Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this
+	Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
+	Be sacrificed, some hour before his time,
+	Unto the rigour of severest law.
+
+PRINCE	We still have known thee for a holy man.
+	Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this?
+
+BALTHASAR	I brought my master news of Juliet's death;
+	And then in post he came from Mantua
+	To this same place, to this same monument.
+	This letter he early bid me give his father,
+	And threatened me with death, going in the vault,
+	I departed not and left him there.
+
+PRINCE	Give me the letter; I will look on it.
+	Where is the county's page, that raised the watch?
+	Sirrah, what made your master in this place?
+
+PAGE	He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave;
+	And bid me stand aloof, and so I did:
+	Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb;
+	And by and by my master drew on him;
+	And then I ran away to call the watch.
+
+PRINCE	This letter doth make good the friar's words,
+	Their course of love, the tidings of her death:
+	And here he writes that he did buy a poison
+	Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal
+	Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.
+	Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague!
+	See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
+	That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love.
+	And I for winking at your discords too
+	Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd.
+
+CAPULET	O brother Montague, give me thy hand:
+	This is my daughter's jointure, for no more
+	Can I demand.
+
+MONTAGUE	                  But I can give thee more:
+	For I will raise her statue in pure gold;
+	That while Verona by that name is known,
+	There shall no figure at such rate be set
+	As that of true and faithful Juliet.
+
+CAPULET	As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie;
+	Poor sacrifices of our enmity!
+
+PRINCE	A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
+	The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:
+	Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
+	Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:
+	For never was a story of more woe
+	Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+TIMON	of Athens.
+
+
+LUCIUS	|
+	|
+LUCULLUS	|  flattering lords.
+	|
+SEMPRONIUS	|
+
+
+VENTIDIUS	one of Timon's false friends.
+
+ALCIBIADES	an Athenian captain.
+
+APEMANTUS	a churlish philosopher.
+
+FLAVIUS	steward to Timon.
+
+	Poet, Painter, Jeweller, and Merchant. (Poet:)
+	(Painter:)
+	(Jeweller:)
+	(Merchant:)
+
+	An old Athenian. (Old Athenian:)
+
+
+FLAMINIUS	|
+	|
+LUCILIUS	|  servants to Timon.
+	|
+SERVILIUS	|
+
+
+CAPHIS	|
+	|
+PHILOTUS	|
+	|
+TITUS	|
+	|  servants to Timon's creditors.
+LUCIUS	|
+	|
+HORTENSIUS	|
+	|
+And others	|
+
+
+	A Page. (Page:)
+
+	A Fool. (Fool:)
+
+	Three Strangers.
+	(First Stranger:)
+	(Second Stranger:)
+	(Third Stranger:)
+
+
+PHRYNIA	|
+	|  mistresses to Alcibiades.
+TIMANDRA	|
+
+
+	Cupid and Amazons in the mask. (Cupid:)
+
+	Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers,
+	Banditti, and Attendants.
+	(First Lord:)
+	(Second Lord:)
+	(Third Lord:)
+	(Fourth Lord:)
+	(Senator:)
+	(First Senator:)
+	(Second Senator:)
+	(Third Senator:)
+	(Soldier:)
+	(First Bandit:)
+	(Second Bandit:)
+	(Third Bandit:)
+	(Messenger:)
+	(Servant:)
+	(First Servant:)
+	(Second Servant:)
+	(Third Servant:)
+	(Varro's First Servant:)
+	(Varro's Second Servant:)
+	(Lucilius' Servant:)
+
+
+SCENE	Athens, and the neighbouring woods.
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Athens. A hall in Timon's house.
+
+
+	[Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and
+	others, at several doors]
+
+Poet	Good day, sir.
+
+Painter	                  I am glad you're well.
+
+Poet	I have not seen you long: how goes the world?
+
+Painter	It wears, sir, as it grows.
+
+Poet	Ay, that's well known:
+	But what particular rarity? what strange,
+	Which manifold record not matches? See,
+	Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power
+	Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant.
+
+Painter	I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.
+
+Merchant	O, 'tis a worthy lord.
+
+Jeweller	Nay, that's most fix'd.
+
+Merchant	A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were,
+	To an untirable and continuate goodness:
+	He passes.
+
+Jeweller:	I have a jewel here--
+
+Merchant	O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir?
+
+Jeweller:	If he will touch the estimate: but, for that--
+
+Poet	[Reciting to himself]  'When we for recompense have
+	praised the vile,
+	It stains the glory in that happy verse
+	Which aptly sings the good.'
+
+Merchant	'Tis a good form.
+
+	[Looking at the jewel]
+
+Jeweller	And rich: here is a water, look ye.
+
+Painter	You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication
+	To the great lord.
+
+Poet	                  A thing slipp'd idly from me.
+	Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes
+	From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint
+	Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame
+	Provokes itself and like the current flies
+	Each bound it chafes. What have you there?
+
+Painter	A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?
+
+Poet	Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.
+	Let's see your piece.
+
+Painter	'Tis a good piece.
+
+Poet	So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent.
+
+Painter	Indifferent.
+
+Poet	                  Admirable: how this grace
+	Speaks his own standing! what a mental power
+	This eye shoots forth! how big imagination
+	Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture
+	One might interpret.
+
+Painter	It is a pretty mocking of the life.
+	Here is a touch; is't good?
+
+Poet	I will say of it,
+	It tutors nature: artificial strife
+	Lives in these touches, livelier than life.
+
+	[Enter certain Senators, and pass over]
+
+Painter	How this lord is follow'd!
+
+Poet	The senators of Athens: happy man!
+
+Painter	Look, more!
+
+Poet	You see this confluence, this great flood
+	of visitors.
+	I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man,
+	Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug
+	With amplest entertainment: my free drift
+	Halts not particularly, but moves itself
+	In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice
+	Infects one comma in the course I hold;
+	But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,
+	Leaving no tract behind.
+
+Painter	How shall I understand you?
+
+Poet	I will unbolt to you.
+	You see how all conditions, how all minds,
+	As well of glib and slippery creatures as
+	Of grave and austere quality, tender down
+	Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune
+	Upon his good and gracious nature hanging
+	Subdues and properties to his love and tendance
+	All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer
+	To Apemantus, that few things loves better
+	Than to abhor himself: even he drops down
+	The knee before him, and returns in peace
+	Most rich in Timon's nod.
+
+Painter	I saw them speak together.
+
+Poet	Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill
+	Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount
+	Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures,
+	That labour on the bosom of this sphere
+	To propagate their states: amongst them all,
+	Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd,
+	One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame,
+	Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her;
+	Whose present grace to present slaves and servants
+	Translates his rivals.
+
+Painter	'Tis conceived to scope.
+	This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,
+	With one man beckon'd from the rest below,
+	Bowing his head against the sleepy mount
+	To climb his happiness, would be well express'd
+	In our condition.
+
+Poet	                  Nay, sir, but hear me on.
+	All those which were his fellows but of late,
+	Some better than his value, on the moment
+	Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,
+	Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,
+	Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him
+	Drink the free air.
+
+Painter	Ay, marry, what of these?
+
+Poet	When Fortune in her shift and change of mood
+	Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants
+	Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top
+	Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down,
+	Not one accompanying his declining foot.
+
+Painter	'Tis common:
+	A thousand moral paintings I can show
+	That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's
+	More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well
+	To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen
+	The foot above the head.
+
+	[Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, addressing himself
+	courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from
+	VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other
+	servants following]
+
+TIMON	Imprison'd is he, say you?
+
+Messenger	Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt,
+	His means most short, his creditors most strait:
+	Your honourable letter he desires
+	To those have shut him up; which failing,
+	Periods his comfort.
+
+TIMON	Noble Ventidius! Well;
+	I am not of that feather to shake off
+	My friend when he must need me. I do know him
+	A gentleman that well deserves a help:
+	Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt,
+	and free him.
+
+Messenger	Your lordship ever binds him.
+
+TIMON	Commend me to him: I will send his ransom;
+	And being enfranchised, bid him come to me.
+	'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
+	But to support him after. Fare you well.
+
+Messenger	All happiness to your honour!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter an old Athenian]
+
+Old Athenian	Lord Timon, hear me speak.
+
+TIMON	Freely, good father.
+
+Old Athenian	Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.
+
+TIMON	I have so: what of him?
+
+Old Athenian	Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.
+
+TIMON	Attends he here, or no? Lucilius!
+
+LUCILIUS	Here, at your lordship's service.
+
+Old Athenian	This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,
+	By night frequents my house. I am a man
+	That from my first have been inclined to thrift;
+	And my estate deserves an heir more raised
+	Than one which holds a trencher.
+
+TIMON	Well; what further?
+
+Old Athenian	One only daughter have I, no kin else,
+	On whom I may confer what I have got:
+	The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride,
+	And I have bred her at my dearest cost
+	In qualities of the best. This man of thine
+	Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord,
+	Join with me to forbid him her resort;
+	Myself have spoke in vain.
+
+TIMON	The man is honest.
+
+Old Athenian	Therefore he will be, Timon:
+	His honesty rewards him in itself;
+	It must not bear my daughter.
+
+TIMON	Does she love him?
+
+Old Athenian	She is young and apt:
+	Our own precedent passions do instruct us
+	What levity's in youth.
+
+TIMON	[To LUCILIUS]           Love you the maid?
+
+LUCILIUS	Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.
+
+Old Athenian	If in her marriage my consent be missing,
+	I call the gods to witness, I will choose
+	Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
+	And dispossess her all.
+
+TIMON	How shall she be endow'd,
+	if she be mated with an equal husband?
+
+Old Athenian	Three talents on the present; in future, all.
+
+TIMON	This gentleman of mine hath served me long:
+	To build his fortune I will strain a little,
+	For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter:
+	What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,
+	And make him weigh with her.
+
+Old Athenian	Most noble lord,
+	Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.
+
+TIMON	My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.
+
+LUCILIUS	Humbly I thank your lordship: never may
+	The state or fortune fall into my keeping,
+	Which is not owed to you!
+
+	[Exeunt LUCILIUS and Old Athenian]
+
+Poet	Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!
+
+TIMON	I thank you; you shall hear from me anon:
+	Go not away. What have you there, my friend?
+
+Painter	A piece of painting, which I do beseech
+	Your lordship to accept.
+
+TIMON	Painting is welcome.
+	The painting is almost the natural man;
+	or since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
+	He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are
+	Even such as they give out. I like your work;
+	And you shall find I like it: wait attendance
+	Till you hear further from me.
+
+Painter	The gods preserve ye!
+
+TIMON	Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand;
+	We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel
+	Hath suffer'd under praise.
+
+Jeweller	What, my lord! dispraise?
+
+TIMON	A more satiety of commendations.
+	If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd,
+	It would unclew me quite.
+
+Jeweller	My lord, 'tis rated
+	As those which sell would give: but you well know,
+	Things of like value differing in the owners
+	Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord,
+	You mend the jewel by the wearing it.
+
+TIMON	Well mock'd.
+
+Merchant	No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue,
+	Which all men speak with him.
+
+TIMON	Look, who comes here: will you be chid?
+
+	[Enter APEMANTUS]
+
+Jeweller: We'll bear, with your lordship.
+
+Merchant	He'll spare none.
+
+TIMON	Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!
+
+APEMANTUS	Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow;
+	When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.
+
+TIMON	Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not.
+
+APEMANTUS	Are they not Athenians?
+
+TIMON	Yes.
+
+APEMANTUS	Then I repent not.
+
+Jeweller: You know me, Apemantus?
+
+APEMANTUS	Thou know'st I do: I call'd thee by thy name.
+
+TIMON	Thou art proud, Apemantus.
+
+APEMANTUS	Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.
+
+TIMON	Whither art going?
+
+APEMANTUS	To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.
+
+TIMON	That's a deed thou'lt die for.
+
+APEMANTUS	Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.
+
+TIMON	How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?
+
+APEMANTUS	The best, for the innocence.
+
+TIMON	Wrought he not well that painted it?
+
+APEMANTUS	He wrought better that made the painter; and yet
+	he's but a filthy piece of work.
+
+Painter	You're a dog.
+
+APEMANTUS	Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog?
+
+TIMON	Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?
+
+APEMANTUS	No; I eat not lords.
+
+TIMON	An thou shouldst, thou 'ldst anger ladies.
+
+APEMANTUS	O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.
+
+TIMON	That's a lascivious apprehension.
+
+APEMANTUS	So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour.
+
+TIMON	How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?
+
+APEMANTUS	Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a
+	man a doit.
+
+TIMON	What dost thou think 'tis worth?
+
+APEMANTUS	Not worth my thinking. How now, poet!
+
+Poet	How now, philosopher!
+
+APEMANTUS	Thou liest.
+
+Poet	Art not one?
+
+APEMANTUS	Yes.
+
+Poet	Then I lie not.
+
+APEMANTUS	Art not a poet?
+
+Poet	Yes.
+
+APEMANTUS	Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou
+	hast feigned him a worthy fellow.
+
+Poet	That's not feigned; he is so.
+
+APEMANTUS	Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy
+	labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o'
+	the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!
+
+TIMON	What wouldst do then, Apemantus?
+
+APEMANTUS	E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart.
+
+TIMON	What, thyself?
+
+APEMANTUS	Ay.
+
+TIMON	Wherefore?
+
+APEMANTUS	That I had no angry wit to be a lord.
+	Art not thou a merchant?
+
+Merchant	Ay, Apemantus.
+
+APEMANTUS	Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!
+
+Merchant	If traffic do it, the gods do it.
+
+APEMANTUS	Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee!
+
+	[Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger]
+
+TIMON	What trumpet's that?
+
+Messenger	'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
+	All of companionship.
+
+TIMON	Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us.
+
+	[Exeunt some Attendants]
+
+	You must needs dine with me: go not you hence
+	Till I have thank'd you: when dinner's done,
+	Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.
+
+	[Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest]
+
+	Most welcome, sir!
+
+APEMANTUS	                  So, so, there!
+	Aches contract and starve your supple joints!
+	That there should be small love 'mongst these
+	sweet knaves,
+	And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out
+	Into baboon and monkey.
+
+ALCIBIADES	Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed
+	Most hungerly on your sight.
+
+TIMON	Right welcome, sir!
+	Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time
+	In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
+
+	[Exeunt all except APEMANTUS]
+
+	[Enter two Lords]
+
+First Lord	What time o' day is't, Apemantus?
+
+APEMANTUS	Time to be honest.
+
+First Lord	That time serves still.
+
+APEMANTUS	The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st it.
+
+Second Lord	Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast?
+
+APEMANTUS	Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.
+
+Second Lord	Fare thee well, fare thee well.
+
+APEMANTUS	Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.
+
+Second Lord	Why, Apemantus?
+
+APEMANTUS	Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to
+	give thee none.
+
+First Lord	Hang thyself!
+
+APEMANTUS	No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy
+	requests to thy friend.
+
+Second Lord	Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence!
+
+APEMANTUS	I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+First Lord	He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in,
+	And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes
+	The very heart of kindness.
+
+Second Lord	He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold,
+	Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays
+	Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him,
+	But breeds the giver a return exceeding
+	All use of quittance.
+
+First Lord	The noblest mind he carries
+	That ever govern'd man.
+
+Second Lord	Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?
+
+First Lord	I'll keep you company.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A banqueting-room in Timon's house.
+
+
+	[Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet
+	served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; then enter
+	TIMON, ALCIBIADES, Lords, Senators, and VENTIDIUS.
+	Then comes, dropping, after all, APEMANTUS,
+	discontentedly, like himself]
+
+VENTIDIUS	Most honour'd Timon,
+	It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's age,
+	And call him to long peace.
+	He is gone happy, and has left me rich:
+	Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
+	To your free heart, I do return those talents,
+	Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help
+	I derived liberty.
+
+TIMON	                  O, by no means,
+	Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love:
+	I gave it freely ever; and there's none
+	Can truly say he gives, if he receives:
+	If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
+	To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair.
+
+VENTIDIUS	A noble spirit!
+
+TIMON	                  Nay, my lords,
+
+	[They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON]
+
+	Ceremony was but devised at first
+	To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
+	Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown;
+	But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
+	Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes
+	Than my fortunes to me.
+
+	[They sit]
+
+First Lord	My lord, we always have confess'd it.
+
+APEMANTUS	Ho, ho, confess'd it! hang'd it, have you not?
+
+TIMON	O, Apemantus, you are welcome.
+
+APEMANTUS	No;
+	You shall not make me welcome:
+	I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.
+
+TIMON	Fie, thou'rt a churl; ye've got a humour there
+	Does not become a man: 'tis much to blame.
+	They say, my lords, 'ira furor brevis est;' but yond
+	man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by
+	himself, for he does neither affect company, nor is
+	he fit for't, indeed.
+
+APEMANTUS	Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to
+	observe; I give thee warning on't.
+
+TIMON	I take no heed of thee; thou'rt an Athenian,
+	therefore welcome: I myself would have no power;
+	prithee, let my meat make thee silent.
+
+APEMANTUS	I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I should
+	ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of
+	men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not! It grieves me
+	to see so many dip their meat in one man's blood;
+	and all the madness is, he cheers them up too.
+	I wonder men dare trust themselves with men:
+	Methinks they should invite them without knives;
+	Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.
+	There's much example for't; the fellow that sits
+	next him now, parts bread with him, pledges the
+	breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest
+	man to kill him: 't has been proved. If I were a
+	huge man, I should fear to drink at meals;
+	Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes:
+	Great men should drink with harness on their throats.
+
+TIMON	My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.
+
+Second Lord	Let it flow this way, my good lord.
+
+APEMANTUS	Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides
+	well. Those healths will make thee and thy state
+	look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to
+	be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire:
+	This and my food are equals; there's no odds:
+	Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.
+
+	Apemantus' grace.
+
+	Immortal gods, I crave no pelf;
+	I pray for no man but myself:
+	Grant I may never prove so fond,
+	To trust man on his oath or bond;
+	Or a harlot, for her weeping;
+	Or a dog, that seems a-sleeping:
+	Or a keeper with my freedom;
+	Or my friends, if I should need 'em.
+	Amen. So fall to't:
+	Rich men sin, and I eat root.
+
+	[Eats and drinks]
+
+	Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus!
+
+TIMON	Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now.
+
+ALCIBIADES	My heart is ever at your service, my lord.
+
+TIMON	You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than a
+	dinner of friends.
+
+ALCIBIADES	So the were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no meat
+	like 'em: I could wish my best friend at such a feast.
+
+APEMANTUS	Would all those fatterers were thine enemies then,
+	that then thou mightst kill 'em and bid me to 'em!
+
+First Lord	Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you
+	would once use our hearts, whereby we might express
+	some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves
+	for ever perfect.
+
+TIMON	O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods
+	themselves have provided that I shall have much help
+	from you: how had you been my friends else? why
+	have you that charitable title from thousands, did
+	not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told
+	more of you to myself than you can with modesty
+	speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm
+	you. O you gods, think I, what need we have any
+	friends, if we should ne'er have need of 'em? they
+	were the most needless creatures living, should we
+	ne'er have use for 'em, and would most resemble
+	sweet instruments hung up in cases that keep their
+	sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished
+	myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We
+	are born to do benefits: and what better or
+	properer can we can our own than the riches of our
+	friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have
+	so many, like brothers, commanding one another's
+	fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere 't can be born!
+	Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to
+	forget their faults, I drink to you.
+
+APEMANTUS	Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon.
+
+Second Lord	Joy had the like conception in our eyes
+	And at that instant like a babe sprung up.
+
+APEMANTUS	Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.
+
+Third Lord	I promise you, my lord, you moved me much.
+
+APEMANTUS	Much!
+
+	[Tucket, within]
+
+TIMON	What means that trump?
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+		 How now?
+
+Servant	Please you, my lord, there are certain
+	ladies most desirous of admittance.
+
+TIMON	Ladies! what are their wills?
+
+Servant	There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which
+	bears that office, to signify their pleasures.
+
+TIMON	I pray, let them be admitted.
+
+	[Enter Cupid]
+
+Cupid	Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all
+	That of his bounties taste! The five best senses
+	Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely
+	To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: th' ear,
+	Taste, touch and smell, pleased from thy tale rise;
+	They only now come but to feast thine eyes.
+
+TIMON	They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance:
+	Music, make their welcome!
+
+	[Exit Cupid]
+
+First Lord	You see, my lord, how ample you're beloved.
+
+	[Music. Re-enter Cupid with a mask of Ladies
+	as Amazons, with lutes in their hands,
+	dancing and playing]
+
+APEMANTUS	Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way!
+	They dance! they are mad women.
+	Like madness is the glory of this life.
+	As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.
+	We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves;
+	And spend our flatteries, to drink those men
+	Upon whose age we void it up again,
+	With poisonous spite and envy.
+	Who lives that's not depraved or depraves?
+	Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves
+	Of their friends' gift?
+	I should fear those that dance before me now
+	Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done;
+	Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
+
+	[The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of
+	TIMON; and to show their loves, each singles out an
+	Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty
+	strain or two to the hautboys, and cease]
+
+TIMON	You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,
+	Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,
+	Which was not half so beautiful and kind;
+	You have added worth unto 't and lustre,
+	And entertain'd me with mine own device;
+	I am to thank you for 't.
+
+First Lady	My lord, you take us even at the best.
+
+APEMANTUS	'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would not hold
+	taking, I doubt me.
+
+TIMON	Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you:
+	Please you to dispose yourselves.
+
+All Ladies	Most thankfully, my lord.
+
+	[Exeunt Cupid and Ladies]
+
+TIMON	Flavius.
+
+FLAVIUS	My lord?
+
+TIMON	       The little casket bring me hither.
+
+FLAVIUS	Yes, my lord. More jewels yet!
+	There is no crossing him in 's humour;
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	Else I should tell him,--well, i' faith I should,
+	When all's spent, he 'ld be cross'd then, an he could.
+	'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind,
+	That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+First Lord	Where be our men?
+
+Servant	Here, my lord, in readiness.
+
+Second Lord	Our horses!
+
+	[Re-enter FLAVIUS, with the casket]
+
+TIMON	          O my friends,
+	I have one word to say to you: look you, my good lord,
+	I must entreat you, honour me so much
+	As to advance this jewel; accept it and wear it,
+	Kind my lord.
+
+First Lord	I am so far already in your gifts,--
+
+All	So are we all.
+
+	[Enter a Servant]
+
+Servant	My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate
+	Newly alighted, and come to visit you.
+
+TIMON	They are fairly welcome.
+
+FLAVIUS	I beseech your honour,
+	Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near.
+
+TIMON	Near! why then, another time I'll hear thee:
+	I prithee, let's be provided to show them
+	entertainment.
+
+FLAVIUS	[Aside]  I scarce know how.
+
+	[Enter a Second Servant]
+
+Second Servant	May it please your honour, Lord Lucius,
+	Out of his free love, hath presented to you
+	Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver.
+
+TIMON	I shall accept them fairly; let the presents
+	Be worthily entertain'd.
+
+	[Enter a third Servant]
+
+		   How now! what news?
+
+Third Servant	Please you, my lord, that honourable
+	gentleman, Lord Lucullus, entreats your company
+	to-morrow to hunt with him, and has sent your honour
+	two brace of greyhounds.
+
+TIMON	I'll hunt with him; and let them be received,
+	Not without fair reward.
+
+FLAVIUS	[Aside]                What will this come to?
+	He commands us to provide, and give great gifts,
+	And all out of an empty coffer:
+	Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this,
+	To show him what a beggar his heart is,
+	Being of no power to make his wishes good:
+	His promises fly so beyond his state
+	That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes
+	For every word: he is so kind that he now
+	Pays interest for 't; his land's put to their books.
+	Well, would I were gently put out of office
+	Before I were forced out!
+	Happier is he that has no friend to feed
+	Than such that do e'en enemies exceed.
+	I bleed inwardly for my lord.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+TIMON	You do yourselves
+	Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits:
+	Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.
+
+Second Lord	With more than common thanks I will receive it.
+
+Third Lord	O, he's the very soul of bounty!
+
+TIMON	And now I remember, my lord, you gave
+	Good words the other day of a bay courser
+	I rode on: it is yours, because you liked it.
+
+Second Lord	O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that.
+
+TIMON	You may take my word, my lord; I know, no man
+	Can justly praise but what he does affect:
+	I weigh my friend's affection with mine own;
+	I'll tell you true. I'll call to you.
+
+All Lords	O, none so welcome.
+
+TIMON	I take all and your several visitations
+	So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give;
+	Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends,
+	And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades,
+	Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich;
+	It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living
+	Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast
+	Lie in a pitch'd field.
+
+ALCIBIADES	Ay, defiled land, my lord.
+
+First Lord	We are so virtuously bound--
+
+TIMON	And so
+	Am I to you.
+
+Second Lord	So infinitely endear'd--
+
+TIMON	All to you. Lights, more lights!
+
+First Lord	The best of happiness,
+	Honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon!
+
+TIMON	Ready for his friends.
+
+	[Exeunt all but APEMANTUS and TIMON]
+
+APEMANTUS	What a coil's here!
+	Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums!
+	I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums
+	That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs:
+	Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs,
+	Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies.
+
+TIMON	Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, I would be
+	good to thee.
+
+APEMANTUS	No, I'll nothing: for if I should be bribed too,
+	there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then
+	thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long,
+	Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in
+	paper shortly: what need these feasts, pomps and
+	vain-glories?
+
+TIMON	Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am
+	sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell; and come
+	with better music.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+APEMANTUS	So:
+	Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not then:
+	I'll lock thy heaven from thee.
+	O, that men's ears should be
+	To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A Senator's house.
+
+
+	[Enter Senator, with papers in his hand]
+
+Senator	And late, five thousand: to Varro and to Isidore
+	He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum,
+	Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion
+	Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not.
+	If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog,
+	And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold.
+	If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more
+	Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon,
+	Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight,
+	And able horses. No porter at his gate,
+	But rather one that smiles and still invites
+	All that pass by. It cannot hold: no reason
+	Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho!
+	Caphis, I say!
+
+	[Enter CAPHIS]
+
+CAPHIS	Here, sir; what is your pleasure?
+
+Senator	Get on your cloak, and haste you to Lord Timon;
+	Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased
+	With slight denial, nor then silenced when--
+	'Commend me to your master'--and the cap
+	Plays in the right hand, thus: but tell him,
+	My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
+	Out of mine own; his days and times are past
+	And my reliances on his fracted dates
+	Have smit my credit: I love and honour him,
+	But must not break my back to heal his finger;
+	Immediate are my needs, and my relief
+	Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words,
+	But find supply immediate. Get you gone:
+	Put on a most importunate aspect,
+	A visage of demand; for, I do fear,
+	When every feather sticks in his own wing,
+	Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
+	Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.
+
+CAPHIS	I go, sir.
+
+Senator	'I go, sir!'--Take the bonds along with you,
+	And have the dates in contempt.
+
+CAPHIS	I will, sir.
+
+Senator	Go.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. A hall in Timon's house.
+
+
+	[Enter FLAVIUS, with many bills in his hand]
+
+FLAVIUS	No care, no stop! so senseless of expense,
+	That he will neither know how to maintain it,
+	Nor cease his flow of riot: takes no account
+	How things go from him, nor resumes no care
+	Of what is to continue: never mind
+	Was to be so unwise, to be so kind.
+	What shall be done? he will not hear, till feel:
+	I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting.
+	Fie, fie, fie, fie!
+
+	[Enter CAPHIS, and the Servants of Isidore and Varro]
+
+CAPHIS	Good even, Varro: what,
+	You come for money?
+
+Varro's Servant	Is't not your business too?
+
+CAPHIS	It is: and yours too, Isidore?
+
+Isidore's Servant	It is so.
+
+CAPHIS	Would we were all discharged!
+
+Varro's Servant	I fear it.
+
+CAPHIS	Here comes the lord.
+
+	[Enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, and Lords, &c]
+
+TIMON	So soon as dinner's done, we'll forth again,
+	My Alcibiades. With me? what is your will?
+
+CAPHIS	My lord, here is a note of certain dues.
+
+TIMON	Dues! Whence are you?
+
+CAPHIS	Of Athens here, my lord.
+
+TIMON	Go to my steward.
+
+CAPHIS	Please it your lordship, he hath put me off
+	To the succession of new days this month:
+	My master is awaked by great occasion
+	To call upon his own, and humbly prays you
+	That with your other noble parts you'll suit
+	In giving him his right.
+
+TIMON	Mine honest friend,
+	I prithee, but repair to me next morning.
+
+CAPHIS	Nay, good my lord,--
+
+TIMON	Contain thyself, good friend.
+
+Varro's Servant	One Varro's servant, my good lord,--
+
+Isidore's Servant	From Isidore;
+	He humbly prays your speedy payment.
+
+CAPHIS	If you did know, my lord, my master's wants--
+
+Varro's Servant	'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks And past.
+
+Isidore's Servant	         Your steward puts me off, my lord;
+	And I am sent expressly to your lordship.
+
+TIMON	Give me breath.
+	I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on;
+	I'll wait upon you instantly.
+
+	[Exeunt ALCIBIADES and Lords]
+
+	[To FLAVIUS]
+
+		        Come hither: pray you,
+	How goes the world, that I am thus encounter'd
+	With clamourous demands of date-broke bonds,
+	And the detention of long-since-due debts,
+	Against my honour?
+
+FLAVIUS	                  Please you, gentlemen,
+	The time is unagreeable to this business:
+	Your importunacy cease till after dinner,
+	That I may make his lordship understand
+	Wherefore you are not paid.
+
+TIMON	Do so, my friends. See them well entertain'd.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FLAVIUS	Pray, draw near.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter APEMANTUS and Fool]
+
+CAPHIS	Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus:
+	let's ha' some sport with 'em.
+
+Varro's Servant	Hang him, he'll abuse us.
+
+Isidore's Servant	A plague upon him, dog!
+
+Varro's Servant	How dost, fool?
+
+APEMANTUS	Dost dialogue with thy shadow?
+
+Varro's Servant	I speak not to thee.
+
+APEMANTUS	No,'tis to thyself.
+
+	[To the Fool]
+
+	Come away.
+
+Isidore's Servant	There's the fool hangs on your back already.
+
+APEMANTUS	No, thou stand'st single, thou'rt not on him yet.
+
+CAPHIS	Where's the fool now?
+
+APEMANTUS	He last asked the question. Poor rogues, and
+	usurers' men! bawds between gold and want!
+
+All Servants	What are we, Apemantus?
+
+APEMANTUS	Asses.
+
+All Servants	Why?
+
+APEMANTUS	That you ask me what you are, and do not know
+	yourselves. Speak to 'em, fool.
+
+Fool	How do you, gentlemen?
+
+All Servants	Gramercies, good fool: how does your mistress?
+
+Fool	She's e'en setting on water to scald such chickens
+	as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth!
+
+APEMANTUS	Good! gramercy.
+
+	[Enter Page]
+
+Fool	Look you, here comes my mistress' page.
+
+Page	[To the Fool]  Why, how now, captain! what do you
+	in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus?
+
+APEMANTUS	Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer
+	thee profitably.
+
+Page	Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of
+	these letters: I know not which is which.
+
+APEMANTUS	Canst not read?
+
+Page	No.
+
+APEMANTUS	There will little learning die then, that day thou
+	art hanged. This is to Lord Timon; this to
+	Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou't
+	die a bawd.
+
+Page	Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a
+	dog's death. Answer not; I am gone.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+APEMANTUS	E'en so thou outrunnest grace. Fool, I will go with
+	you to Lord Timon's.
+
+Fool	Will you leave me there?
+
+APEMANTUS	If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers?
+
+All Servants	Ay; would they served us!
+
+APEMANTUS	So would I,--as good a trick as ever hangman served thief.
+
+Fool	Are you three usurers' men?
+
+All Servants	Ay, fool.
+
+Fool	I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant: my
+	mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come
+	to borrow of your masters, they approach sadly, and
+	go away merry; but they enter my mistress' house
+	merrily, and go away sadly: the reason of this?
+
+Varro's Servant	I could render one.
+
+APEMANTUS	Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster
+	and a knave; which not-withstanding, thou shalt be
+	no less esteemed.
+
+Varro's Servant	What is a whoremaster, fool?
+
+Fool	A fool in good clothes, and something like thee.
+	'Tis a spirit: sometime't appears like a lord;
+	sometime like a lawyer; sometime like a philosopher,
+	with two stones moe than's artificial one: he is
+	very often like a knight; and, generally, in all
+	shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore
+	to thirteen, this spirit walks in.
+
+Varro's Servant	Thou art not altogether a fool.
+
+Fool	Nor thou altogether a wise man: as much foolery as
+	I have, so much wit thou lackest.
+
+APEMANTUS	That answer might have become Apemantus.
+
+All Servants	Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon.
+
+	[Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS]
+
+APEMANTUS	Come with me, fool, come.
+
+Fool	I do not always follow lover, elder brother and
+	woman; sometime the philosopher.
+
+	[Exeunt APEMANTUS and Fool]
+
+FLAVIUS	Pray you, walk near: I'll speak with you anon.
+
+	[Exeunt Servants]
+
+TIMON	You make me marvel: wherefore ere this time
+	Had you not fully laid my state before me,
+	That I might so have rated my expense,
+	As I had leave of means?
+
+FLAVIUS	You would not hear me,
+	At many leisures I proposed.
+
+TIMON	Go to:
+	Perchance some single vantages you took.
+	When my indisposition put you back:
+	And that unaptness made your minister,
+	Thus to excuse yourself.
+
+FLAVIUS	O my good lord,
+	At many times I brought in my accounts,
+	Laid them before you; you would throw them off,
+	And say, you found them in mine honesty.
+	When, for some trifling present, you have bid me
+	Return so much, I have shook my head and wept;
+	Yea, 'gainst the authority of manners, pray'd you
+	To hold your hand more close: I did endure
+	Not seldom, nor no slight cheques, when I have
+	Prompted you in the ebb of your estate
+	And your great flow of debts. My loved lord,
+	Though you hear now, too late--yet now's a time--
+	The greatest of your having lacks a half
+	To pay your present debts.
+
+TIMON	Let all my land be sold.
+
+FLAVIUS	'Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone;
+	And what remains will hardly stop the mouth
+	Of present dues: the future comes apace:
+	What shall defend the interim? and at length
+	How goes our reckoning?
+
+TIMON	To Lacedaemon did my land extend.
+
+FLAVIUS	O my good lord, the world is but a word:
+	Were it all yours to give it in a breath,
+	How quickly were it gone!
+
+TIMON	You tell me true.
+
+FLAVIUS	If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood,
+	Call me before the exactest auditors
+	And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me,
+	When all our offices have been oppress'd
+	With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept
+	With drunken spilth of wine, when every room
+	Hath blazed with lights and bray'd with minstrelsy,
+	I have retired me to a wasteful cock,
+	And set mine eyes at flow.
+
+TIMON	Prithee, no more.
+
+FLAVIUS	Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord!
+	How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants
+	This night englutted! Who is not Timon's?
+	What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is
+	Lord Timon's?
+	Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon!
+	Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise,
+	The breath is gone whereof this praise is made:
+	Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers,
+	These flies are couch'd.
+
+TIMON	Come, sermon me no further:
+	No villanous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart;
+	Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
+	Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack,
+	To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart;
+	If I would broach the vessels of my love,
+	And try the argument of hearts by borrowing,
+	Men and men's fortunes could I frankly use
+	As I can bid thee speak.
+
+FLAVIUS	Assurance bless your thoughts!
+
+TIMON	And, in some sort, these wants of mine are crown'd,
+	That I account them blessings; for by these
+	Shall I try friends: you shall perceive how you
+	Mistake my fortunes; I am wealthy in my friends.
+	Within there! Flaminius! Servilius!
+
+	[Enter FLAMINIUS, SERVILIUS, and other Servants]
+
+Servants	My lord? my lord?
+
+TIMON	I will dispatch you severally; you to Lord Lucius;
+	to Lord Lucullus you: I hunted with his honour
+	to-day: you, to Sempronius: commend me to their
+	loves, and, I am proud, say, that my occasions have
+	found time to use 'em toward a supply of money: let
+	the request be fifty talents.
+
+FLAMINIUS	As you have said, my lord.
+
+FLAVIUS	[Aside]  Lord Lucius and Lucullus? hum!
+
+TIMON	Go you, sir, to the senators--
+	Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have
+	Deserved this hearing--bid 'em send o' the instant
+	A thousand talents to me.
+
+FLAVIUS	I have been bold--
+	For that I knew it the most general way--
+	To them to use your signet and your name;
+	But they do shake their heads, and I am here
+	No richer in return.
+
+TIMON	Is't true? can't be?
+
+FLAVIUS	They answer, in a joint and corporate voice,
+	That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot
+	Do what they would; are sorry--you are honourable,--
+	But yet they could have wish'd--they know not--
+	Something hath been amiss--a noble nature
+	May catch a wrench--would all were well--'tis pity;--
+	And so, intending other serious matters,
+	After distasteful looks and these hard fractions,
+	With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods
+	They froze me into silence.
+
+TIMON	You gods, reward them!
+	Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows
+	Have their ingratitude in them hereditary:
+	Their blood is caked, 'tis cold, it seldom flows;
+	'Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind;
+	And nature, as it grows again toward earth,
+	Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy.
+
+	[To a Servant]
+
+	Go to Ventidius.
+
+	[To FLAVIUS]
+
+	Prithee, be not sad,
+	Thou art true and honest; ingeniously I speak.
+	No blame belongs to thee.
+
+	[To Servant]
+
+		    Ventidius lately
+	Buried his father; by whose death he's stepp'd
+	Into a great estate: when he was poor,
+	Imprison'd and in scarcity of friends,
+	I clear'd him with five talents: greet him from me;
+	Bid him suppose some good necessity
+	Touches his friend, which craves to be remember'd
+	With those five talents.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+	[To FLAVIUS]
+
+		   That had, give't these fellows
+	To whom 'tis instant due. Ne'er speak, or think,
+	That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink.
+
+FLAVIUS	I would I could not think it: that thought is
+	bounty's foe;
+	Being free itself, it thinks all others so.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	A room in Lucullus' house.
+
+
+	[FLAMINIUS waiting. Enter a Servant to him]
+
+Servant	I have told my lord of you; he is coming down to you.
+
+FLAMINIUS	I thank you, sir.
+
+	[Enter LUCULLUS]
+
+Servant	Here's my lord.
+
+LUCULLUS	[Aside]  One of Lord Timon's men? a gift, I
+	warrant. Why, this hits right; I dreamt of a silver
+	basin and ewer to-night. Flaminius, honest
+	Flaminius; you are very respectively welcome, sir.
+	Fill me some wine.
+
+	[Exit Servants]
+
+	And how does that honourable, complete, free-hearted
+	gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord
+	and master?
+
+FLAMINIUS	His health is well sir.
+
+LUCULLUS	I am right glad that his health is well, sir: and
+	what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius?
+
+FLAMINIUS	'Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir; which, in my
+	lord's behalf, I come to entreat your honour to
+	supply; who, having great and instant occasion to
+	use fifty talents, hath sent to your lordship to
+	furnish him, nothing doubting your present
+	assistance therein.
+
+LUCULLUS	La, la, la, la! 'nothing doubting,' says he? Alas,
+	good lord! a noble gentleman 'tis, if he would not
+	keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha'
+	dined with him, and told him on't, and come again to
+	supper to him, of purpose to have him spend less,
+	and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning
+	by my coming. Every man has his fault, and honesty
+	is his: I ha' told him on't, but I could ne'er get
+	him from't.
+
+	[Re-enter Servant, with wine]
+
+Servant	Please your lordship, here is the wine.
+
+LUCULLUS	Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. Here's to thee.
+
+FLAMINIUS	Your lordship speaks your pleasure.
+
+LUCULLUS	I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt
+	spirit--give thee thy due--and one that knows what
+	belongs to reason; and canst use the time well, if
+	the time use thee well: good parts in thee.
+
+	[To Servant]
+
+	Get you gone, sirrah.
+
+	[Exit Servant]
+
+	Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord's a
+	bountiful gentleman: but thou art wise; and thou
+	knowest well enough, although thou comest to me,
+	that this is no time to lend money, especially upon
+	bare friendship, without security. Here's three
+	solidares for thee: good boy, wink at me, and say
+	thou sawest me not. Fare thee well.
+
+FLAMINIUS	Is't possible the world should so much differ,
+	And we alive that lived? Fly, damned baseness,
+	To him that worships thee!
+
+	[Throwing the money back]
+
+LUCULLUS	Ha! now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+FLAMINIUS	May these add to the number that may scald thee!
+	Let moulten coin be thy damnation,
+	Thou disease of a friend, and not himself!
+	Has friendship such a faint and milky heart,
+	It turns in less than two nights? O you gods,
+	I feel master's passion! this slave,
+	Unto his honour, has my lord's meat in him:
+	Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment,
+	When he is turn'd to poison?
+	O, may diseases only work upon't!
+	And, when he's sick to death, let not that part of nature
+	Which my lord paid for, be of any power
+	To expel sickness, but prolong his hour!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter LUCILIUS, with three Strangers]
+
+LUCILIUS	Who, the Lord Timon? he is my very good friend, and
+	an honourable gentleman.
+
+First Stranger	We know him for no less, though we are but strangers
+	to him. But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and
+	which I hear from common rumours: now Lord Timon's
+	happy hours are done and past, and his estate
+	shrinks from him.
+
+LUCILIUS	Fie, no, do not believe it; he cannot want for money.
+
+Second Stranger	But believe you this, my lord, that, not long ago,
+	one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus to borrow
+	so many talents, nay, urged extremely for't and
+	showed what necessity belonged to't, and yet was denied.
+
+LUCILIUS	How!
+
+Second Stranger	I tell you, denied, my lord.
+
+LUCILIUS	What a strange case was that! now, before the gods,
+	I am ashamed on't. Denied that honourable man!
+	there was very little honour showed in't. For my own
+	part, I must needs confess, I have received some
+	small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels
+	and such-like trifles, nothing comparing to his;
+	yet, had he mistook him and sent to me, I should
+	ne'er have denied his occasion so many talents.
+
+	[Enter SERVILIUS]
+
+SERVILIUS	See, by good hap, yonder's my lord;
+	I have sweat to see his honour. My honoured lord,--
+
+	[To LUCIUS]
+
+LUCILIUS	Servilius! you are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well:
+	commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very
+	exquisite friend.
+
+SERVILIUS	May it please your honour, my lord hath sent--
+
+LUCILIUS	Ha! what has he sent? I am so much endeared to
+	that lord; he's ever sending: how shall I thank
+	him, thinkest thou? And what has he sent now?
+
+SERVILIUS	Has only sent his present occasion now, my lord;
+	requesting your lordship to supply his instant use
+	with so many talents.
+
+LUCILIUS	I know his lordship is but merry with me;
+	He cannot want fifty five hundred talents.
+
+SERVILIUS	But in the mean time he wants less, my lord.
+	If his occasion were not virtuous,
+	I should not urge it half so faithfully.
+
+LUCILIUS	Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius?
+
+SERVILIUS	Upon my soul,'tis true, sir.
+
+LUCILIUS	What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself
+	against such a good time, when I might ha' shown
+	myself honourable! how unluckily it happened, that I
+	should purchase the day before for a little part,
+	and undo a great deal of honoured! Servilius, now,
+	before the gods, I am not able to do,--the more
+	beast, I say:--I was sending to use Lord Timon
+	myself, these gentlemen can witness! but I would
+	not, for the wealth of Athens, I had done't now.
+	Commend me bountifully to his good lordship; and I
+	hope his honour will conceive the fairest of me,
+	because I have no power to be kind: and tell him
+	this from me, I count it one of my greatest
+	afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an
+	honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you
+	befriend me so far, as to use mine own words to him?
+
+SERVILIUS	Yes, sir, I shall.
+
+LUCILIUS	I'll look you out a good turn, Servilius.
+
+	[Exit SERVILIUS]
+
+	True as you said, Timon is shrunk indeed;
+	And he that's once denied will hardly speed.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+First Stranger	Do you observe this, Hostilius?
+
+Second Stranger	Ay, too well.
+
+First Stranger	Why, this is the world's soul; and just of the
+	same piece
+	Is every flatterer's spirit. Who can call him
+	His friend that dips in the same dish? for, in
+	My knowing, Timon has been this lord's father,
+	And kept his credit with his purse,
+	Supported his estate; nay, Timon's money
+	Has paid his men their wages: he ne'er drinks,
+	But Timon's silver treads upon his lip;
+	And yet--O, see the monstrousness of man
+	When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!--
+	He does deny him, in respect of his,
+	What charitable men afford to beggars.
+
+Third Stranger	Religion groans at it.
+
+First Stranger	For mine own part,
+	I never tasted Timon in my life,
+	Nor came any of his bounties over me,
+	To mark me for his friend; yet, I protest,
+	For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue
+	And honourable carriage,
+	Had his necessity made use of me,
+	I would have put my wealth into donation,
+	And the best half should have return'd to him,
+	So much I love his heart: but, I perceive,
+	Men must learn now with pity to dispense;
+	For policy sits above conscience.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A room in Sempronius' house.
+
+
+	[Enter SEMPRONIUS, and a Servant of TIMON's]
+
+SEMPRONIUS	Must he needs trouble me in 't,--hum!--'bove
+	all others?
+	He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus;
+	And now Ventidius is wealthy too,
+	Whom he redeem'd from prison: all these
+	Owe their estates unto him.
+
+Servant	My lord,
+	They have all been touch'd and found base metal, for
+	They have au denied him.
+
+SEMPRONIUS	How! have they denied him?
+	Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him?
+	And does he send to me? Three? hum!
+	It shows but little love or judgment in him:
+	Must I be his last refuge! His friends, like
+	physicians,
+	Thrive, give him over: must I take the cure upon me?
+	Has much disgraced me in't; I'm angry at him,
+	That might have known my place: I see no sense for't,
+	But his occasion might have woo'd me first;
+	For, in my conscience, I was the first man
+	That e'er received gift from him:
+	And does he think so backwardly of me now,
+	That I'll requite its last? No:
+	So it may prove an argument of laughter
+	To the rest, and 'mongst lords I be thought a fool.
+	I'ld rather than the worth of thrice the sum,
+	Had sent to me first, but for my mind's sake;
+	I'd such a courage to do him good. But now return,
+	And with their faint reply this answer join;
+	Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Servant	Excellent! Your lordship's a goodly villain. The
+	devil knew not what he did when he made man
+	politic; he crossed himself by 't: and I cannot
+	think but, in the end, the villainies of man will
+	set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to
+	appear foul! takes virtuous copies to be wicked,
+	like those that under hot ardent zeal would set
+	whole realms on fire: Of such a nature is his
+	politic love.
+	This was my lord's best hope; now all are fled,
+	Save only the gods: now his friends are dead,
+	Doors, that were ne'er acquainted with their wards
+	Many a bounteous year must be employ'd
+	Now to guard sure their master.
+	And this is all a liberal course allows;
+	Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The same. A hall in Timon's house.
+
+
+	[Enter two Servants of Varro, and the Servant of
+	LUCIUS, meeting TITUS, HORTENSIUS, and other
+	Servants of TIMON's creditors, waiting his coming out]
+
+Varro's
+First Servant	Well met; good morrow, Titus and Hortensius.
+
+TITUS	The like to you kind Varro.
+
+HORTENSIUS	Lucius!
+	What, do we meet together?
+
+Lucilius' Servant	Ay, and I think
+	One business does command us all; for mine Is money.
+
+TITUS	So is theirs and ours.
+
+	[Enter PHILOTUS]
+
+Lucilius' Servant	And Sir Philotus too!
+
+PHILOTUS	Good day at once.
+
+Lucilius' Servant	                  Welcome, good brother.
+	What do you think the hour?
+
+PHILOTUS	Labouring for nine.
+
+Lucilius' Servant	So much?
+
+PHILOTUS	Is not my lord seen yet?
+
+Lucilius' Servant	Not yet.
+
+PHILOTUS	I wonder on't; he was wont to shine at seven.
+
+Lucilius' Servant	Ay, but the days are wax'd shorter with him:
+	You must consider that a prodigal course
+	Is like the sun's; but not, like his, recoverable.
+	I fear 'tis deepest winter in Lord Timon's purse;
+	That is one may reach deep enough, and yet
+	Find little.
+
+PHILOTUS	I am of your fear for that.
+
+TITUS	I'll show you how to observe a strange event.
+	Your lord sends now for money.
+
+HORTENSIUS	Most true, he does.
+
+TITUS	And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift,
+	For which I wait for money.
+
+HORTENSIUS	It is against my heart.
+
+Lucilius' Servant	Mark, how strange it shows,
+	Timon in this should pay more than he owes:
+	And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels,
+	And send for money for 'em.
+
+HORTENSIUS	I'm weary of this charge, the gods can witness:
+	I know my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth,
+	And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth.
+
+Varro's
+First Servant	Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours?
+
+Lucilius' Servant	Five thousand mine.
+
+Varro's
+First Servant	'Tis much deep: and it should seem by the sun,
+	Your master's confidence was above mine;
+	Else, surely, his had equall'd.
+
+	Enter FLAMINIUS.
+
+TITUS	One of Lord Timon's men.
+
+Lucilius' Servant	Flaminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my lord ready to
+	come forth?
+
+FLAMINIUS	No, indeed, he is not.
+
+TITUS	We attend his lordship; pray, signify so much.
+
+FLAMINIUS	I need not tell him that; he knows you are too diligent.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter FLAVIUS in a cloak, muffled]
+
+Lucilius' Servant	Ha! is not that his steward muffled so?
+	He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him.
+
+TITUS	Do you hear, sir?
+
+Varro's
+Second Servant	By your leave, sir,--
+
+FLAVIUS	What do ye ask of me, my friend?
+
+TITUS	We wait for certain money here, sir.
+
+FLAVIUS	Ay,
+	If money were as certain as your waiting,
+	'Twere sure enough.
+	Why then preferr'd you not your sums and bills,
+	When your false masters eat of my lord's meat?
+	Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts
+	And take down the interest into their
+	gluttonous maws.
+	You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up;
+	Let me pass quietly:
+	Believe 't, my lord and I have made an end;
+	I have no more to reckon, he to spend.
+
+Lucilius' Servant	Ay, but this answer will not serve.
+
+FLAVIUS	If 'twill not serve,'tis not so base as you;
+	For you serve knaves.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+Varro's
+First Servant	How! what does his cashiered worship mutter?
+
+Varro's
+Second Servant	No matter what; he's poor, and that's revenge
+	enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no
+	house to put his head in? such may rail against
+	great buildings.
+
+	[Enter SERVILIUS]
+
+TITUS	O, here's Servilius; now we shall know some answer.
+
+SERVILIUS	If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some
+	other hour, I should derive much from't; for,
+	take't of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to
+	discontent: his comfortable temper has forsook him;
+	he's much out of health, and keeps his chamber.
+
+Lucilius' Servant: Many do keep their chambers are not sick:
+	And, if it be so far beyond his health,
+	Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts,
+	And make a clear way to the gods.
+
+SERVILIUS	Good gods!
+
+TITUS	We cannot take this for answer, sir.
+
+FLAMINIUS	[Within]  Servilius, help! My lord! my lord!
+
+	[Enter TIMON, in a rage, FLAMINIUS following]
+
+TIMON	What, are my doors opposed against my passage?
+	Have I been ever free, and must my house
+	Be my retentive enemy, my gaol?
+	The place which I have feasted, does it now,
+	Like all mankind, show me an iron heart?
+
+Lucilius' Servant	Put in now, Titus.
+
+TITUS	My lord, here is my bill.
+
+Lucilius' Servant	Here's mine.
+
+HORTENSIUS	And mine, my lord.
+
+Both
+Varro's Servants	And ours, my lord.
+
+PHILOTUS	All our bills.
+
+TIMON	Knock me down with 'em: cleave me to the girdle.
+
+Lucilius' Servant	Alas, my lord,-
+
+TIMON	Cut my heart in sums.
+
+TITUS	Mine, fifty talents.
+
+TIMON	Tell out my blood.
+
+Lucilius' Servant	Five thousand crowns, my lord.
+
+TIMON	Five thousand drops pays that.
+	What yours?--and yours?
+
+Varro's
+First Servant	My lord,--
+
+Varro's
+Second Servant	My lord,--
+
+TIMON	Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+HORTENSIUS	'Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps
+	at their money: these debts may well be called
+	desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+	[Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS]
+
+TIMON	They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves.
+	Creditors? devils!
+
+FLAVIUS	My dear lord,--
+
+TIMON	What if it should be so?
+
+FLAVIUS	My lord,--
+
+TIMON	I'll have it so. My steward!
+
+FLAVIUS	Here, my lord.
+
+TIMON	So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again,
+	Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius:
+	All, sirrah, all:
+	I'll once more feast the rascals.
+
+FLAVIUS	O my lord,
+	You only speak from your distracted soul;
+	There is not so much left, to furnish out
+	A moderate table.
+
+TIMON	                  Be't not in thy care; go,
+	I charge thee, invite them all: let in the tide
+	Of knaves once more; my cook and I'll provide.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE V	The same. The senate-house. The Senate sitting.
+
+
+First Senator	My lord, you have my voice to it; the fault's
+	Bloody; 'tis necessary he should die:
+	Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.
+
+Second Senator	Most true; the law shall bruise him.
+
+	[Enter ALCIBIADES, with Attendants]
+
+ALCIBIADES	Honour, health, and compassion to the senate!
+
+First Senator	Now, captain?
+
+ALCIBIADES	I am an humble suitor to your virtues;
+	For pity is the virtue of the law,
+	And none but tyrants use it cruelly.
+	It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy
+	Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood,
+	Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth
+	To those that, without heed, do plunge into 't.
+	He is a man, setting his fate aside,
+	Of comely virtues:
+	Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice--
+	An honour in him which buys out his fault--
+	But with a noble fury and fair spirit,
+	Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,
+	He did oppose his foe:
+	And with such sober and unnoted passion
+	He did behave his anger, ere 'twas spent,
+	As if he had but proved an argument.
+
+First Senator	You undergo too strict a paradox,
+	Striving to make an ugly deed look fair:
+	Your words have took such pains as if they labour'd
+	To bring manslaughter into form and set quarrelling
+	Upon the head of valour; which indeed
+	Is valour misbegot and came into the world
+	When sects and factions were newly born:
+	He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer
+	The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs
+	His outsides, to wear them like his raiment,
+	carelessly,
+	And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,
+	To bring it into danger.
+	If wrongs be evils and enforce us kill,
+	What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill!
+
+ALCIBIADES	My lord,--
+
+First Senator	       You cannot make gross sins look clear:
+	To revenge is no valour, but to bear.
+
+ALCIBIADES	My lords, then, under favour, pardon me,
+	If I speak like a captain.
+	Why do fond men expose themselves to battle,
+	And not endure all threats? sleep upon't,
+	And let the foes quietly cut their throats,
+	Without repugnancy? If there be
+	Such valour in the bearing, what make we
+	Abroad? why then, women are more valiant
+	That stay at home, if bearing carry it,
+	And the ass more captain than the lion, the felon
+	Loaden with irons wiser than the judge,
+	If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords,
+	As you are great, be pitifully good:
+	Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?
+	To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust;
+	But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.
+	To be in anger is impiety;
+	But who is man that is not angry?
+	Weigh but the crime with this.
+
+Second Senator	You breathe in vain.
+
+ALCIBIADES	In vain! his service done
+	At Lacedaemon and Byzantium
+	Were a sufficient briber for his life.
+
+First Senator	What's that?
+
+ALCIBIADES	I say, my lords, he has done fair service,
+	And slain in fight many of your enemies:
+	How full of valour did he bear himself
+	In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds!
+
+Second Senator	He has made too much plenty with 'em;
+	He's a sworn rioter: he has a sin that often
+	Drowns him, and takes his valour prisoner:
+	If there were no foes, that were enough
+	To overcome him: in that beastly fury
+	He has been known to commit outrages,
+	And cherish factions: 'tis inferr'd to us,
+	His days are foul and his drink dangerous.
+
+First Senator	He dies.
+
+ALCIBIADES	Hard fate! he might have died in war.
+	My lords, if not for any parts in him--
+	Though his right arm might purchase his own time
+	And be in debt to none--yet, more to move you,
+	Take my deserts to his, and join 'em both:
+	And, for I know your reverend ages love
+	Security, I'll pawn my victories, all
+	My honours to you, upon his good returns.
+	If by this crime he owes the law his life,
+	Why, let the war receive 't in valiant gore
+	For law is strict, and war is nothing more.
+
+First Senator	We are for law: he dies; urge it no more,
+	On height of our displeasure: friend or brother,
+	He forfeits his own blood that spills another.
+
+ALCIBIADES	Must it be so? it must not be. My lords,
+	I do beseech you, know me.
+
+Second Senator	How!
+
+ALCIBIADES	Call me to your remembrances.
+
+Third Senator	What!
+
+ALCIBIADES	I cannot think but your age has forgot me;
+	It could not else be, I should prove so base,
+	To sue, and be denied such common grace:
+	My wounds ache at you.
+
+First Senator	Do you dare our anger?
+	'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect;
+	We banish thee for ever.
+
+ALCIBIADES	Banish me!
+	Banish your dotage; banish usury,
+	That makes the senate ugly.
+
+First Senator	If, after two days' shine, Athens contain thee,
+	Attend our weightier judgment. And, not to swell
+	our spirit,
+	He shall be executed presently.
+
+	[Exeunt Senators]
+
+ALCIBIADES	Now the gods keep you old enough; that you may live
+	Only in bone, that none may look on you!
+	I'm worse than mad: I have kept back their foes,
+	While they have told their money and let out
+	Their coin upon large interest, I myself
+	Rich only in large hurts. All those for this?
+	Is this the balsam that the usuring senate
+	Pours into captains' wounds? Banishment!
+	It comes not ill; I hate not to be banish'd;
+	It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury,
+	That I may strike at Athens. I'll cheer up
+	My discontented troops, and lay for hearts.
+	'Tis honour with most lands to be at odds;
+	Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE VI	The same. A banqueting-room in Timon's house.
+
+
+	[Music. Tables set out: Servants attending.
+	Enter divers Lords, Senators and others, at
+	several doors]
+
+First Lord	The good time of day to you, sir.
+
+Second Lord	I also wish it to you. I think this honourable lord
+	did but try us this other day.
+
+First Lord	Upon that were my thoughts tiring, when we
+	encountered: I hope it is not so low with him as
+	he made it seem in the trial of his several friends.
+
+Second Lord	It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting.
+
+First Lord	I should think so: he hath sent me an earnest
+	inviting, which many my near occasions did urge me
+	to put off; but he hath conjured me beyond them, and
+	I must needs appear.
+
+Second Lord	In like manner was I in debt to my importunate
+	business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am
+	sorry, when he sent to borrow of me, that my
+	provision was out.
+
+First Lord	I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all
+	things go.
+
+Second Lord	Every man here's so. What would he have borrowed of
+	you?
+
+First Lord	A thousand pieces.
+
+Second Lord	A thousand pieces!
+
+First Lord	What of you?
+
+Second Lord	He sent to me, sir,--Here he comes.
+
+	[Enter TIMON and Attendants]
+
+TIMON	With all my heart, gentlemen both; and how fare you?
+
+First Lord	Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship.
+
+Second Lord	The swallow follows not summer more willing than we
+	your lordship.
+
+TIMON	[Aside]  Nor more willingly leaves winter; such
+	summer-birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not
+	recompense this long stay: feast your ears with the
+	music awhile, if they will fare so harshly o' the
+	trumpet's sound; we shall to 't presently.
+
+First Lord	I hope it remains not unkindly with your lordship
+	that I returned you an empty messenger.
+
+TIMON	O, sir, let it not trouble you.
+
+Second Lord	My noble lord,--
+
+TIMON	Ah, my good friend, what cheer?
+
+Second Lord	My most honourable lord, I am e'en sick of shame,
+	that, when your lordship this other day sent to me,
+	I was so unfortunate a beggar.
+
+TIMON	Think not on 't, sir.
+
+Second Lord	If you had sent but two hours before,--
+
+TIMON	Let it not cumber your better remembrance.
+
+	[The banquet brought in]
+
+	Come, bring in all together.
+
+Second Lord	All covered dishes!
+
+First Lord	Royal cheer, I warrant you.
+
+Third Lord	Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield
+	it.
+
+First Lord	How do you? What's the news?
+
+Third Lord	Alcibiades is banished: hear you of it?
+
+
+First Lord	|
+	|  Alcibiades banished!
+Second Lord	|
+
+
+Third Lord	'Tis so, be sure of it.
+
+First Lord	How! how!
+
+Second Lord	I pray you, upon what?
+
+TIMON	My worthy friends, will you draw near?
+
+Third Lord	I'll tell you more anon. Here's a noble feast toward.
+
+Second Lord	This is the old man still.
+
+Third Lord	Will 't hold? will 't hold?
+
+Second Lord	It does: but time will--and so--
+
+Third Lord	I do conceive.
+
+TIMON	Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to
+	the lip of his mistress: your diet shall be in all
+	places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let
+	the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place:
+	sit, sit. The gods require our thanks.
+
+	You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with
+	thankfulness. For your own gifts, make yourselves
+	praised: but reserve still to give, lest your
+	deities be despised. Lend to each man enough, that
+	one need not lend to another; for, were your
+	godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the
+	gods. Make the meat be beloved more than the man
+	that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty be without
+	a score of villains: if there sit twelve women at
+	the table, let a dozen of them be--as they are. The
+	rest of your fees, O gods--the senators of Athens,
+	together with the common lag of people--what is
+	amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for
+	destruction. For these my present friends, as they
+	are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them, and to
+	nothing are they welcome.
+
+	Uncover, dogs, and lap.
+
+	[The dishes are uncovered and seen to be full of
+	warm water]
+
+Some Speak	What does his lordship mean?
+
+Some Others	I know not.
+
+TIMON	May you a better feast never behold,
+	You knot of mouth-friends I smoke and lukewarm water
+	Is your perfection. This is Timon's last;
+	Who, stuck and spangled with your flatteries,
+	Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces
+	Your reeking villany.
+
+	[Throwing the water in their faces]
+
+		Live loathed and long,
+	Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites,
+	Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears,
+	You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time's flies,
+	Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks!
+	Of man and beast the infinite malady
+	Crust you quite o'er! What, dost thou go?
+	Soft! take thy physic first--thou too--and thou;--
+	Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none.
+
+	[Throws the dishes at them, and drives them out]
+
+	What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast,
+	Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest.
+	Burn, house! sink, Athens! henceforth hated be
+	Of Timon man and all humanity!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter the Lords, Senators, &c]
+
+First Lord	How now, my lords!
+
+Second Lord	Know you the quality of Lord Timon's fury?
+
+Third Lord	Push! did you see my cap?
+
+Fourth Lord	I have lost my gown.
+
+First Lord	He's but a mad lord, and nought but humour sways him.
+	He gave me a jewel th' other day, and now he has
+	beat it out of my hat: did you see my jewel?
+
+Third Lord	Did you see my cap?
+
+Second Lord	Here 'tis.
+
+Fourth Lord	Here lies my gown.
+
+First Lord	Let's make no stay.
+
+Second Lord	Lord Timon's mad.
+
+Third Lord	I feel 't upon my bones.
+
+Fourth Lord	One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Without the walls of Athens.
+
+
+	[Enter TIMON]
+
+TIMON	Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall,
+	That girdlest in those wolves, dive in the earth,
+	And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent!
+	Obedience fail in children! slaves and fools,
+	Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench,
+	And minister in their steads! to general filths
+	Convert o' the instant, green virginity,
+	Do 't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast;
+	Rather than render back, out with your knives,
+	And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal!
+	Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,
+	And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed;
+	Thy mistress is o' the brothel! Son of sixteen,
+	pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire,
+	With it beat out his brains! Piety, and fear,
+	Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,
+	Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood,
+	Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades,
+	Degrees, observances, customs, and laws,
+	Decline to your confounding contraries,
+	And let confusion live! Plagues, incident to men,
+	Your potent and infectious fevers heap
+	On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica,
+	Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt
+	As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty
+	Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,
+	That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive,
+	And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains,
+	Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their crop
+	Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath,
+	at their society, as their friendship, may
+	merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee,
+	But nakedness, thou detestable town!
+	Take thou that too, with multiplying bans!
+	Timon will to the woods; where he shall find
+	The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind.
+	The gods confound--hear me, you good gods all--
+	The Athenians both within and out that wall!
+	And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow
+	To the whole race of mankind, high and low! Amen.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Athens. A room in Timon's house.
+
+
+	[Enter FLAVIUS, with two or three Servants]
+
+First Servant	Hear you, master steward, where's our master?
+	Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining?
+
+FLAVIUS	Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you?
+	Let me be recorded by the righteous gods,
+	I am as poor as you.
+
+First Servant	Such a house broke!
+	So noble a master fall'n! All gone! and not
+	One friend to take his fortune by the arm,
+	And go along with him!
+
+Second Servant	As we do turn our backs
+	From our companion thrown into his grave,
+	So his familiars to his buried fortunes
+	Slink all away, leave their false vows with him,
+	Like empty purses pick'd; and his poor self,
+	A dedicated beggar to the air,
+	With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,
+	Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows.
+
+	[Enter other Servants]
+
+FLAVIUS	All broken implements of a ruin'd house.
+
+Third Servant	Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery;
+	That see I by our faces; we are fellows still,
+	Serving alike in sorrow: leak'd is our bark,
+	And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,
+	Hearing the surges threat: we must all part
+	Into this sea of air.
+
+FLAVIUS	Good fellows all,
+	The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you.
+	Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake,
+	Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say,
+	As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes,
+	'We have seen better days.' Let each take some;
+	Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more:
+	Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.
+
+	[Servants embrace, and part several ways]
+
+	O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!
+	Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
+	Since riches point to misery and contempt?
+	Who would be so mock'd with glory? or to live
+	But in a dream of friendship?
+	To have his pomp and all what state compounds
+	But only painted, like his varnish'd friends?
+	Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart,
+	Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood,
+	When man's worst sin is, he does too much good!
+	Who, then, dares to be half so kind again?
+	For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men.
+	My dearest lord, bless'd, to be most accursed,
+	Rich, only to be wretched, thy great fortunes
+	Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord!
+	He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat
+	Of monstrous friends, nor has he with him to
+	Supply his life, or that which can command it.
+	I'll follow and inquire him out:
+	I'll ever serve his mind with my best will;
+	Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Woods and cave, near the seashore.
+
+
+	[Enter TIMON, from the cave]
+
+	O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth
+	Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb
+	Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb,
+	Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
+	Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes;
+	The greater scorns the lesser: not nature,
+	To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune,
+	But by contempt of nature.
+	Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord;
+	The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
+	The beggar native honour.
+	It is the pasture lards the rother's sides,
+	The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares,
+	In purity of manhood stand upright,
+	And say 'This man's a flatterer?' if one be,
+	So are they all; for every grise of fortune
+	Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate
+	Ducks to the golden fool: all is oblique;
+	There's nothing level in our cursed natures,
+	But direct villany. Therefore, be abhorr'd
+	All feasts, societies, and throngs of men!
+	His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains:
+	Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots!
+
+	[Digging]
+
+	Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate
+	With thy most operant poison! What is here?
+	Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods,
+	I am no idle votarist: roots, you clear heavens!
+	Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair,
+	Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant.
+	Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this
+	Will lug your priests and servants from your sides,
+	Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads:
+	This yellow slave
+	Will knit and break religions, bless the accursed,
+	Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves
+	And give them title, knee and approbation
+	With senators on the bench: this is it
+	That makes the wappen'd widow wed again;
+	She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores
+	Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices
+	To the April day again. Come, damned earth,
+	Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st odds
+	Among the route of nations, I will make thee
+	Do thy right nature.
+
+	[March afar off]
+
+		Ha! a drum? Thou'rt quick,
+	But yet I'll bury thee: thou'lt go, strong thief,
+	When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand.
+	Nay, stay thou out for earnest.
+
+	[Keeping some gold]
+
+	[Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in
+	warlike manner; PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA]
+
+ALCIBIADES	What art thou there? speak.
+
+TIMON	A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart,
+	For showing me again the eyes of man!
+
+ALCIBIADES	What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee,
+	That art thyself a man?
+
+TIMON	I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind.
+	For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
+	That I might love thee something.
+
+ALCIBIADES	I know thee well;
+	But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.
+
+TIMON	I know thee too; and more than that I know thee,
+	I not desire to know. Follow thy drum;
+	With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules:
+	Religious canons, civil laws are cruel;
+	Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine
+	Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
+	For all her cherubim look.
+
+PHRYNIA	Thy lips rot off!
+
+TIMON	I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns
+	To thine own lips again.
+
+ALCIBIADES	How came the noble Timon to this change?
+
+TIMON	As the moon does, by wanting light to give:
+	But then renew I could not, like the moon;
+	There were no suns to borrow of.
+
+ALCIBIADES	Noble Timon,
+	What friendship may I do thee?
+
+TIMON	None, but to
+	Maintain my opinion.
+
+ALCIBIADES	What is it, Timon?
+
+TIMON	Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou
+	wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art
+	a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for
+	thou art a man!
+
+ALCIBIADES	I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.
+
+TIMON	Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity.
+
+ALCIBIADES	I see them now; then was a blessed time.
+
+TIMON	As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.
+
+TIMANDRA	Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world
+	Voiced so regardfully?
+
+TIMON	Art thou Timandra?
+
+TIMANDRA	Yes.
+
+TIMON	Be a whore still: they love thee not that use thee;
+	Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust.
+	Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves
+	For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth
+	To the tub-fast and the diet.
+
+TIMANDRA	Hang thee, monster!
+
+ALCIBIADES	Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits
+	Are drown'd and lost in his calamities.
+	I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
+	The want whereof doth daily make revolt
+	In my penurious band: I have heard, and grieved,
+	How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,
+	Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,
+	But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,--
+
+TIMON	I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.
+
+ALCIBIADES	I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.
+
+TIMON	How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble?
+	I had rather be alone.
+
+ALCIBIADES	Why, fare thee well:
+	Here is some gold for thee.
+
+TIMON	Keep it, I cannot eat it.
+
+ALCIBIADES	When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,--
+
+TIMON	Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens?
+
+ALCIBIADES	Ay, Timon, and have cause.
+
+TIMON	The gods confound them all in thy conquest;
+	And thee after, when thou hast conquer'd!
+
+ALCIBIADES	Why me, Timon?
+
+TIMON	                  That, by killing of villains,
+	Thou wast born to conquer my country.
+	Put up thy gold: go on,--here's gold,--go on;
+	Be as a planetary plague, when Jove
+	Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison
+	In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one:
+	Pity not honour'd age for his white beard;
+	He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron;
+	It is her habit only that is honest,
+	Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek
+	Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps,
+	That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes,
+	Are not within the leaf of pity writ,
+	But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe,
+	Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;
+	Think it a bastard, whom the oracle
+	Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut,
+	And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects;
+	Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes;
+	Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
+	Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,
+	Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers:
+	Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent,
+	Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone.
+
+ALCIBIADES	Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou
+	givest me,
+	Not all thy counsel.
+
+TIMON	Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse
+	upon thee!
+
+
+PHRYNIA	|
+	|  Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more?
+TIMANDRA	|
+
+
+TIMON	Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,
+	And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
+	Your aprons mountant: you are not oathable,
+	Although, I know, you 'll swear, terribly swear
+	Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues
+	The immortal gods that hear you,--spare your oaths,
+	I'll trust to your conditions: be whores still;
+	And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,
+	Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up;
+	Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
+	And be no turncoats: yet may your pains, six months,
+	Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs
+	With burthens of the dead;--some that were hang'd,
+	No matter:--wear them, betray with them: whore still;
+	Paint till a horse may mire upon your face,
+	A pox of wrinkles!
+
+
+PHRYNIA	|
+	|  Well, more gold: what then?
+TIMANDRA	|   Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold.
+
+
+TIMON	Consumptions sow
+	In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,
+	And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice,
+	That he may never more false title plead,
+	Nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen,
+	That scolds against the quality of flesh,
+	And not believes himself: down with the nose,
+	Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away
+	Of him that, his particular to foresee,
+	Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate
+	ruffians bald;
+	And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
+	Derive some pain from you: plague all;
+	That your activity may defeat and quell
+	The source of all erection. There's more gold:
+	Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
+	And ditches grave you all!
+
+
+PHRYNIA	|
+	|  More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.
+TIMANDRA	|
+
+
+TIMON	More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest.
+
+ALCIBIADES	Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon:
+	If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.
+
+TIMON	If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.
+
+ALCIBIADES	I never did thee harm.
+
+TIMON	Yes, thou spokest well of me.
+
+ALCIBIADES	Call'st thou that harm?
+
+TIMON	Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take
+	Thy beagles with thee.
+
+ALCIBIADES	We but offend him. Strike!
+
+	[Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES, PHRYNIA,
+	and TIMANDRA]
+
+TIMON	That nature, being sick of man's unkindness,
+	Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou,
+
+	[Digging]
+
+	Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast,
+	Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle,
+	Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd,
+	Engenders the black toad and adder blue,
+	The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm,
+	With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven
+	Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine;
+	Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate,
+	From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!
+	Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb,
+	Let it no more bring out ingrateful man!
+	Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;
+	Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
+	Hath to the marbled mansion all above
+	Never presented!--O, a root,--dear thanks!--
+	Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas;
+	Whereof ungrateful man, with liquorish draughts
+	And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind,
+	That from it all consideration slips!
+
+	[Enter APEMANTUS]
+
+	More man? plague, plague!
+
+APEMANTUS	I was directed hither: men report
+	Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.
+
+TIMON	'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog,
+	Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee!
+
+APEMANTUS	This is in thee a nature but infected;
+	A poor unmanly melancholy sprung
+	From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place?
+	This slave-like habit? and these looks of care?
+	Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft;
+	Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot
+	That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods,
+	By putting on the cunning of a carper.
+	Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive
+	By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee,
+	And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe,
+	Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
+	And call it excellent: thou wast told thus;
+	Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome
+	To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just
+	That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again,
+	Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my likeness.
+
+TIMON	Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself.
+
+APEMANTUS	Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself;
+	A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st
+	That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
+	Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees,
+	That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels,
+	And skip where thou point'st out? will the
+	cold brook,
+	Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
+	To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures
+	Whose naked natures live in an the spite
+	Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,
+	To the conflicting elements exposed,
+	Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee;
+	O, thou shalt find--
+
+TIMON	A fool of thee: depart.
+
+APEMANTUS	I love thee better now than e'er I did.
+
+TIMON	I hate thee worse.
+
+APEMANTUS	                  Why?
+
+TIMON	Thou flatter'st misery.
+
+APEMANTUS	I flatter not; but say thou art a caitiff.
+
+TIMON	Why dost thou seek me out?
+
+APEMANTUS	To vex thee.
+
+TIMON	Always a villain's office or a fool's.
+	Dost please thyself in't?
+
+APEMANTUS	Ay.
+
+TIMON	What! a knave too?
+
+APEMANTUS	If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on
+	To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou
+	Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be again,
+	Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
+	Outlives encertain pomp, is crown'd before:
+	The one is filling still, never complete;
+	The other, at high wish: best state, contentless,
+	Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
+	Worse than the worst, content.
+	Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.
+
+TIMON	Not by his breath that is more miserable.
+	Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm
+	With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.
+	Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded
+	The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
+	To such as may the passive drugs of it
+	Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself
+	In general riot; melted down thy youth
+	In different beds of lust; and never learn'd
+	The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd
+	The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,
+	Who had the world as my confectionary,
+	The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men
+	At duty, more than I could frame employment,
+	That numberless upon me stuck as leaves
+	Do on the oak, hive with one winter's brush
+	Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare
+	For every storm that blows: I, to bear this,
+	That never knew but better, is some burden:
+	Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time
+	Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men?
+	They never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given?
+	If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,
+	Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff
+	To some she beggar and compounded thee
+	Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone!
+	If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
+	Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.
+
+APEMANTUS	Art thou proud yet?
+
+TIMON	Ay, that I am not thee.
+
+APEMANTUS	I, that I was
+	No prodigal.
+
+TIMON	                  I, that I am one now:
+	Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee,
+	I'ld give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone.
+	That the whole life of Athens were in this!
+	Thus would I eat it.
+
+	[Eating a root]
+
+APEMANTUS	Here; I will mend thy feast.
+
+	[Offering him a root]
+
+TIMON	First mend my company, take away thyself.
+
+APEMANTUS	So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine.
+
+TIMON	'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd;
+	if not, I would it were.
+
+APEMANTUS	What wouldst thou have to Athens?
+
+TIMON	Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,
+	Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have.
+
+APEMANTUS	Here is no use for gold.
+
+TIMON	The best and truest;
+	For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.
+
+APEMANTUS	Where liest o' nights, Timon?
+
+TIMON	Under that's above me.
+	Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus?
+
+APEMANTUS	Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat
+	it.
+
+TIMON	Would poison were obedient and knew my mind!
+
+APEMANTUS	Where wouldst thou send it?
+
+TIMON	To sauce thy dishes.
+
+APEMANTUS	The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the
+	extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt
+	and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much
+	curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art
+	despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for
+	thee, eat it.
+
+TIMON	On what I hate I feed not.
+
+APEMANTUS	Dost hate a medlar?
+
+TIMON	Ay, though it look like thee.
+
+APEMANTUS	An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst
+	have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou
+	ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means?
+
+TIMON	Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou
+	ever know beloved?
+
+APEMANTUS	Myself.
+
+TIMON	I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a
+	dog.
+
+APEMANTUS	What things in the world canst thou nearest compare
+	to thy flatterers?
+
+TIMON	Women nearest; but men, men are the things
+	themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world,
+	Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?
+
+APEMANTUS	Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.
+
+TIMON	Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of
+	men, and remain a beast with the beasts?
+
+APEMANTUS	Ay, Timon.
+
+TIMON	A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t'
+	attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would
+	beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would
+	eat three: if thou wert the fox, the lion would
+	suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accused by
+	the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would
+	torment thee, and still thou livedst but as a
+	breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy
+	greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst
+	hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the
+	unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee and
+	make thine own self the conquest of thy fury: wert
+	thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse:
+	wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the
+	leopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to
+	the lion and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on
+	thy life: all thy safety were remotion and thy
+	defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that
+	were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art
+	thou already, that seest not thy loss in
+	transformation!
+
+APEMANTUS	If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou
+	mightst have hit upon it here: the commonwealth of
+	Athens is become a forest of beasts.
+
+TIMON	How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city?
+
+APEMANTUS	Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of
+	company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it
+	and give way: when I know not what else to do, I'll
+	see thee again.
+
+TIMON	When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be
+	welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus.
+
+APEMANTUS	Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.
+
+TIMON	Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!
+
+APEMANTUS	A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse.
+
+TIMON	All villains that do stand by thee are pure.
+
+APEMANTUS	There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.
+
+TIMON	If I name thee.
+	I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands.
+
+APEMANTUS	I would my tongue could rot them off!
+
+TIMON	Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!
+	Choler does kill me that thou art alive;
+	I swound to see thee.
+
+APEMANTUS	Would thou wouldst burst!
+
+TIMON	Away,
+	Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose
+	A stone by thee.
+
+	[Throws a stone at him]
+
+APEMANTUS	                  Beast!
+
+TIMON	Slave!
+
+APEMANTUS	Toad!
+
+TIMON	Rogue, rogue, rogue!
+	I am sick of this false world, and will love nought
+	But even the mere necessities upon 't.
+	Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;
+	Lie where the light foam the sea may beat
+	Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph,
+	That death in me at others' lives may laugh.
+
+	[To the gold]
+
+	O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce
+	'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler
+	Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars!
+	Thou ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer,
+	Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
+	That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
+	That solder'st close impossibilities,
+	And makest them kiss! that speak'st with
+	every tongue,
+	To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts!
+	Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue
+	Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
+	May have the world in empire!
+
+APEMANTUS	Would 'twere so!
+	But not till I am dead. I'll say thou'st gold:
+	Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.
+
+TIMON	Throng'd to!
+
+APEMANTUS	Ay.
+
+TIMON	Thy back, I prithee.
+
+APEMANTUS	Live, and love thy misery.
+
+TIMON	Long live so, and so die.
+
+	[Exit APEMANTUS]
+
+		    I am quit.
+	Moe things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them.
+
+	[Enter Banditti]
+
+First Bandit	Where should he have this gold? It is some poor
+	fragment, some slender sort of his remainder: the
+	mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his
+	friends, drove him into this melancholy.
+
+Second Bandit	It is noised he hath a mass of treasure.
+
+Third Bandit	Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not
+	for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously
+	reserve it, how shall's get it?
+
+Second Bandit	True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid.
+
+First Bandit	Is not this he?
+
+Banditti	Where?
+
+Second Bandit	'Tis his description.
+
+Third Bandit	He; I know him.
+
+Banditti	Save thee, Timon.
+
+TIMON	Now, thieves?
+
+Banditti	Soldiers, not thieves.
+
+TIMON	Both too; and women's sons.
+
+Banditti	We are not thieves, but men that much do want.
+
+TIMON	Your greatest want is, you want much of meat.
+	Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots;
+	Within this mile break forth a hundred springs;
+	The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips;
+	The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush
+	Lays her full mess before you. Want! why want?
+
+First Bandit	We cannot live on grass, on berries, water,
+	As beasts and birds and fishes.
+
+TIMON	Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes;
+	You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con
+	That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not
+	In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft
+	In limited professions. Rascal thieves,
+	Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape,
+	Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth,
+	And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician;
+	His antidotes are poison, and he slays
+	Moe than you rob: take wealth and lives together;
+	Do villany, do, since you protest to do't,
+	Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery.
+	The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
+	Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief,
+	And her pale fire she snatches from the sun:
+	The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
+	The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief,
+	That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen
+	From general excrement: each thing's a thief:
+	The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
+	Have uncheque'd theft. Love not yourselves: away,
+	Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats:
+	All that you meet are thieves: to Athens go,
+	Break open shops; nothing can you steal,
+	But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this
+	I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen.
+
+Third Bandit	Has almost charmed me from my profession, by
+	persuading me to it.
+
+First Bandit	'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises
+	us; not to have us thrive in our mystery.
+
+Second Bandit	I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade.
+
+First Bandit	Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time
+	so miserable but a man may be true.
+
+	[Exeunt Banditti]
+
+	[Enter FLAVIUS]
+
+FLAVIUS	O you gods!
+	Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord?
+	Full of decay and failing? O monument
+	And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd!
+	What an alteration of honour
+	Has desperate want made!
+	What viler thing upon the earth than friends
+	Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends!
+	How rarely does it meet with this time's guise,
+	When man was wish'd to love his enemies!
+	Grant I may ever love, and rather woo
+	Those that would mischief me than those that do!
+	Has caught me in his eye: I will present
+	My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord,
+	Still serve him with my life. My dearest master!
+
+TIMON	Away! what art thou?
+
+FLAVIUS	Have you forgot me, sir?
+
+TIMON	Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men;
+	Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee.
+
+FLAVIUS	An honest poor servant of yours.
+
+TIMON	Then I know thee not:
+	I never had honest man about me, I; all
+	I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains.
+
+FLAVIUS	The gods are witness,
+	Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief
+	For his undone lord than mine eyes for you.
+
+TIMON	What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I
+	love thee,
+	Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st
+	Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give
+	But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping:
+	Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!
+
+FLAVIUS	I beg of you to know me, good my lord,
+	To accept my grief and whilst this poor wealth lasts
+	To entertain me as your steward still.
+
+TIMON	Had I a steward
+	So true, so just, and now so comfortable?
+	It almost turns my dangerous nature mild.
+	Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man
+	Was born of woman.
+	Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,
+	You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim
+	One honest man--mistake me not--but one;
+	No more, I pray,--and he's a steward.
+	How fain would I have hated all mankind!
+	And thou redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee,
+	I fell with curses.
+	Methinks thou art more honest now than wise;
+	For, by oppressing and betraying me,
+	Thou mightst have sooner got another service:
+	For many so arrive at second masters,
+	Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true--
+	For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure--
+	Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,
+	If not a usuring kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts,
+	Expecting in return twenty for one?
+
+FLAVIUS	No, my most worthy master; in whose breast
+	Doubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late:
+	You should have fear'd false times when you did feast:
+	Suspect still comes where an estate is least.
+	That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love,
+	Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind,
+	Care of your food and living; and, believe it,
+	My most honour'd lord,
+	For any benefit that points to me,
+	Either in hope or present, I'ld exchange
+	For this one wish, that you had power and wealth
+	To requite me, by making rich yourself.
+
+TIMON	Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man,
+	Here, take: the gods out of my misery
+	Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy;
+	But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men;
+	Hate all, curse all, show charity to none,
+	But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone,
+	Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs
+	What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em,
+	Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like
+	blasted woods,
+	And may diseases lick up their false bloods!
+	And so farewell and thrive.
+
+FLAVIUS	O, let me stay,
+	And comfort you, my master.
+
+TIMON	If thou hatest curses,
+	Stay not; fly, whilst thou art blest and free:
+	Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee.
+
+	[Exit FLAVIUS. TIMON retires to his cave]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	The woods. Before Timon's cave.
+
+
+	[Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON watching
+	them from his cave]
+
+Painter	As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where
+	he abides.
+
+Poet	What's to be thought of him? does the rumour hold
+	for true, that he's so full of gold?
+
+Painter	Certain: Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and
+	Timandra had gold of him: he likewise enriched poor
+	straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'tis said
+	he gave unto his steward a mighty sum.
+
+Poet	Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends.
+
+Painter	Nothing else: you shall see him a palm in Athens
+	again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore
+	'tis not amiss we tender our loves to him, in this
+	supposed distress of his: it will show honestly in
+	us; and is very likely to load our purposes with
+	what they travail for, if it be a just true report
+	that goes of his having.
+
+Poet	What have you now to present unto him?
+
+Painter	Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will
+	promise him an excellent piece.
+
+Poet	I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent
+	that's coming toward him.
+
+Painter	Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' the
+	time: it opens the eyes of expectation:
+	performance is ever the duller for his act; and,
+	but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the
+	deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is
+	most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind
+	of will or testament which argues a great sickness
+	in his judgment that makes it.
+
+	[TIMON comes from his cave, behind]
+
+TIMON	[Aside]  Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a
+	man so bad as is thyself.
+
+Poet	I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for
+	him: it must be a personating of himself; a satire
+	against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery
+	of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency.
+
+TIMON	[Aside]  Must thou needs stand for a villain in
+	thine own work? wilt thou whip thine own faults in
+	other men? Do so, I have gold for thee.
+
+Poet	Nay, let's seek him:
+	Then do we sin against our own estate,
+	When we may profit meet, and come too late.
+
+Painter	True;
+	When the day serves, before black-corner'd night,
+	Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. Come.
+
+TIMON	[Aside]  I'll meet you at the turn. What a
+	god's gold,
+	That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple
+	Than where swine feed!
+	'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam,
+	Settlest admired reverence in a slave:
+	To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye
+	Be crown'd with plagues that thee alone obey!
+	Fit I meet them.
+
+	[Coming forward]
+
+Poet	Hail, worthy Timon!
+
+Painter	Our late noble master!
+
+TIMON	Have I once lived to see two honest men?
+
+Poet	Sir,
+	Having often of your open bounty tasted,
+	Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n off,
+	Whose thankless natures--O abhorred spirits!--
+	Not all the whips of heaven are large enough:
+	What! to you,
+	Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence
+	To their whole being! I am rapt and cannot cover
+	The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude
+	With any size of words.
+
+TIMON	Let it go naked, men may see't the better:
+	You that are honest, by being what you are,
+	Make them best seen and known.
+
+Painter	He and myself
+	Have travail'd in the great shower of your gifts,
+	And sweetly felt it.
+
+TIMON	Ay, you are honest men.
+
+Painter	We are hither come to offer you our service.
+
+TIMON	Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you?
+	Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no.
+
+Both	What we can do, we'll do, to do you service.
+
+TIMON	Ye're honest men: ye've heard that I have gold;
+	I am sure you have: speak truth; ye're honest men.
+
+Painter	So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore
+	Came not my friend nor I.
+
+TIMON	Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit
+	Best in all Athens: thou'rt, indeed, the best;
+	Thou counterfeit'st most lively.
+
+Painter	So, so, my lord.
+
+TIMON	E'en so, sir, as I say. And, for thy fiction,
+	Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth
+	That thou art even natural in thine art.
+	But, for all this, my honest-natured friends,
+	I must needs say you have a little fault:
+	Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I
+	You take much pains to mend.
+
+Both	Beseech your honour
+	To make it known to us.
+
+TIMON	You'll take it ill.
+
+Both	Most thankfully, my lord.
+
+TIMON	Will you, indeed?
+
+Both	Doubt it not, worthy lord.
+
+TIMON	There's never a one of you but trusts a knave,
+	That mightily deceives you.
+
+Both	Do we, my lord?
+
+TIMON	Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble,
+	Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,
+	Keep in your bosom: yet remain assured
+	That he's a made-up villain.
+
+Painter	I know none such, my lord.
+
+Poet	Nor I.
+
+TIMON	Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold,
+	Rid me these villains from your companies:
+	Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught,
+	Confound them by some course, and come to me,
+	I'll give you gold enough.
+
+Both	Name them, my lord, let's know them.
+
+TIMON	You that way and you this, but two in company;
+	Each man apart, all single and alone,
+	Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
+	If where thou art two villains shall not be,
+	Come not near him. If thou wouldst not reside
+	But where one villain is, then him abandon.
+	Hence, pack! there's gold; you came for gold, ye slaves:
+
+	[To Painter]
+
+	You have work'd for me; there's payment for you: hence!
+
+	[To Poet]
+
+	You are an alchemist; make gold of that.
+	Out, rascal dogs!
+
+	[Beats them out, and then retires to his cave]
+
+	[Enter FLAVIUS and two Senators]
+
+FLAVIUS	It is in vain that you would speak with Timon;
+	For he is set so only to himself
+	That nothing but himself which looks like man
+	Is friendly with him.
+
+First Senator	Bring us to his cave:
+	It is our part and promise to the Athenians
+	To speak with Timon.
+
+Second Senator	At all times alike
+	Men are not still the same: 'twas time and griefs
+	That framed him thus: time, with his fairer hand,
+	Offering the fortunes of his former days,
+	The former man may make him. Bring us to him,
+	And chance it as it may.
+
+FLAVIUS	Here is his cave.
+	Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon!
+	Look out, and speak to friends: the Athenians,
+	By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee:
+	Speak to them, noble Timon.
+
+	[TIMON comes from his cave]
+
+TIMON	Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn! Speak, and
+	be hang'd:
+	For each true word, a blister! and each false
+	Be as cauterizing to the root o' the tongue,
+	Consuming it with speaking!
+
+First Senator	Worthy Timon,--
+
+TIMON	Of none but such as you, and you of Timon.
+
+First Senator	The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.
+
+TIMON	I thank them; and would send them back the plague,
+	Could I but catch it for them.
+
+First Senator	O, forget
+	What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.
+	The senators with one consent of love
+	Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought
+	On special dignities, which vacant lie
+	For thy best use and wearing.
+
+Second Senator	They confess
+	Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross:
+	Which now the public body, which doth seldom
+	Play the recanter, feeling in itself
+	A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
+	Of its own fail, restraining aid to Timon;
+	And send forth us, to make their sorrow'd render,
+	Together with a recompense more fruitful
+	Than their offence can weigh down by the dram;
+	Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth
+	As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs
+	And write in thee the figures of their love,
+	Ever to read them thine.
+
+TIMON	You witch me in it;
+	Surprise me to the very brink of tears:
+	Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes,
+	And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators.
+
+First Senator	Therefore, so please thee to return with us
+	And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take
+	The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks,
+	Allow'd with absolute power and thy good name
+	Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back
+	Of Alcibiades the approaches wild,
+	Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up
+	His country's peace.
+
+Second Senator	And shakes his threatening sword
+	Against the walls of Athens.
+
+First Senator	Therefore, Timon,--
+
+TIMON	Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; thus:
+	If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
+	Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,
+	That Timon cares not. But if be sack fair Athens,
+	And take our goodly aged men by the beards,
+	Giving our holy virgins to the stain
+	Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war,
+	Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it,
+	In pity of our aged and our youth,
+	I cannot choose but tell him, that I care not,
+	And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not,
+	While you have throats to answer: for myself,
+	There's not a whittle in the unruly camp
+	But I do prize it at my love before
+	The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you
+	To the protection of the prosperous gods,
+	As thieves to keepers.
+
+FLAVIUS	Stay not, all's in vain.
+
+TIMON	Why, I was writing of my epitaph;
+	it will be seen to-morrow: my long sickness
+	Of health and living now begins to mend,
+	And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still;
+	Be Alcibiades your plague, you his,
+	And last so long enough!
+
+First Senator	We speak in vain.
+
+TIMON	But yet I love my country, and am not
+	One that rejoices in the common wreck,
+	As common bruit doth put it.
+
+First Senator	That's well spoke.
+
+TIMON	Commend me to my loving countrymen,--
+
+First Senator	These words become your lips as they pass
+	thorough them.
+
+Second Senator	And enter in our ears like great triumphers
+	In their applauding gates.
+
+TIMON	Commend me to them,
+	And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs,
+	Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,
+	Their pangs of love, with other incident throes
+	That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain
+	In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them:
+	I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.
+
+First Senator	I like this well; he will return again.
+
+TIMON	I have a tree, which grows here in my close,
+	That mine own use invites me to cut down,
+	And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends,
+	Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree
+	From high to low throughout, that whoso please
+	To stop affliction, let him take his haste,
+	Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,
+	And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting.
+
+FLAVIUS	Trouble him no further; thus you still shall find him.
+
+TIMON	Come not to me again: but say to Athens,
+	Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
+	Upon the beached verge of the salt flood;
+	Who once a day with his embossed froth
+	The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come,
+	And let my grave-stone be your oracle.
+	Lips, let sour words go by and language end:
+	What is amiss plague and infection mend!
+	Graves only be men's works and death their gain!
+	Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign.
+
+	[Retires to his cave]
+
+First Senator	His discontents are unremoveably
+	Coupled to nature.
+
+Second Senator	Our hope in him is dead: let us return,
+	And strain what other means is left unto us
+	In our dear peril.
+
+First Senator	                  It requires swift foot.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Before the walls of Athens.
+
+
+	[Enter two Senators and a Messenger]
+
+First Senator	Thou hast painfully discover'd: are his files
+	As full as thy report?
+
+Messenger	have spoke the least:
+	Besides, his expedition promises
+	Present approach.
+
+Second Senator	We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon.
+
+Messenger	I met a courier, one mine ancient friend;
+	Whom, though in general part we were opposed,
+	Yet our old love made a particular force,
+	And made us speak like friends: this man was riding
+	From Alcibiades to Timon's cave,
+	With letters of entreaty, which imported
+	His fellowship i' the cause against your city,
+	In part for his sake moved.
+
+First Senator	Here come our brothers.
+
+	[Enter the Senators from TIMON]
+
+Third Senator	No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect.
+	The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring
+	Doth choke the air with dust: in, and prepare:
+	Ours is the fall, I fear; our foes the snare.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The woods. Timon's cave, and a rude tomb seen.
+
+
+	[Enter a Soldier, seeking TIMON]
+
+Soldier	By all description this should be the place.
+	Who's here? speak, ho! No answer! What is this?
+	Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span:
+	Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man.
+	Dead, sure; and this his grave. What's on this tomb
+	I cannot read; the character I'll take with wax:
+	Our captain hath in every figure skill,
+	An aged interpreter, though young in days:
+	Before proud Athens he's set down by this,
+	Whose fall the mark of his ambition is.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TIMON OF ATHENS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Before the walls of Athens.
+
+
+	[Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES with his powers]
+
+ALCIBIADES	Sound to this coward and lascivious town
+	Our terrible approach.
+
+	[A parley sounded]
+
+	[Enter Senators on the walls]
+
+	Till now you have gone on and fill'd the time
+	With all licentious measure, making your wills
+	The scope of justice; till now myself and such
+	As slept within the shadow of your power
+	Have wander'd with our traversed arms and breathed
+	Our sufferance vainly: now the time is flush,
+	When crouching marrow in the bearer strong
+	Cries of itself 'No more:' now breathless wrong
+	Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease,
+	And pursy insolence shall break his wind
+	With fear and horrid flight.
+
+First Senator	Noble and young,
+	When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit,
+	Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear,
+	We sent to thee, to give thy rages balm,
+	To wipe out our ingratitude with loves
+	Above their quantity.
+
+Second Senator	So did we woo
+	Transformed Timon to our city's love
+	By humble message and by promised means:
+	We were not all unkind, nor all deserve
+	The common stroke of war.
+
+First Senator	These walls of ours
+	Were not erected by their hands from whom
+	You have received your griefs; nor are they such
+	That these great towers, trophies and schools
+	should fall
+	For private faults in them.
+
+Second Senator	Nor are they living
+	Who were the motives that you first went out;
+	Shame that they wanted cunning, in excess
+	Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord,
+	Into our city with thy banners spread:
+	By decimation, and a tithed death--
+	If thy revenges hunger for that food
+	Which nature loathes--take thou the destined tenth,
+	And by the hazard of the spotted die
+	Let die the spotted.
+
+First Senator	All have not offended;
+	For those that were, it is not square to take
+	On those that are, revenges: crimes, like lands,
+	Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman,
+	Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage:
+	Spare thy Athenian cradle and those kin
+	Which in the bluster of thy wrath must fall
+	With those that have offended: like a shepherd,
+	Approach the fold and cull the infected forth,
+	But kill not all together.
+
+Second Senator	What thou wilt,
+	Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile
+	Than hew to't with thy sword.
+
+First Senator 	Set but thy foot
+	Against our rampired gates, and they shall ope;
+	So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before,
+	To say thou'lt enter friendly.
+
+Second Senator	Throw thy glove,
+	Or any token of thine honour else,
+	That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress
+	And not as our confusion, all thy powers
+	Shall make their harbour in our town, till we
+	Have seal'd thy full desire.
+
+ALCIBIADES	Then there's my glove;
+	Descend, and open your uncharged ports:
+	Those enemies of Timon's and mine own
+	Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof
+	Fall and no more: and, to atone your fears
+	With my more noble meaning, not a man
+	Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream
+	Of regular justice in your city's bounds,
+	But shall be render'd to your public laws
+	At heaviest answer.
+
+Both	'Tis most nobly spoken.
+
+ALCIBIADES	Descend, and keep your words.
+
+	[The Senators descend, and open the gates]
+
+	[Enter Soldier]
+
+Soldier	My noble general, Timon is dead;
+	Entomb'd upon the very hem o' the sea;
+	And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which
+	With wax I brought away, whose soft impression
+	Interprets for my poor ignorance.
+
+ALCIBIADES	[Reads the epitaph]  'Here lies a
+	wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft:
+	Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked
+	caitiffs left!
+	Here lie I, Timon; who, alive, all living men did hate:
+	Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass and stay
+	not here thy gait.'
+	These well express in thee thy latter spirits:
+	Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs,
+	Scorn'dst our brain's flow and those our
+	droplets which
+	From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit
+	Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye
+	On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead
+	Is noble Timon: of whose memory
+	Hereafter more. Bring me into your city,
+	And I will use the olive with my sword,
+	Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each
+	Prescribe to other as each other's leech.
+	Let our drums strike.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+
+SATURNINUS	son to the late Emperor of Rome, and afterwards
+	declared Emperor.
+
+BASSIANUS	brother to Saturninus; in love with Lavinia.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	a noble Roman, general against the Goths.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	tribune of the people, and brother to Titus.
+
+
+LUCIUS	|
+	|
+QUINTUS	|
+	|  sons to Titus Andronicus.
+MARTIUS	|
+	|
+MUTIUS	|
+
+
+Young LUCIUS	a boy, son to Lucius.
+
+PUBLIUS	son to Marcus the Tribune.
+
+
+SEMPRONIUS	|
+	|
+CAIUS	|  kinsmen to Titus.
+	|
+VALENTINE	|
+
+
+AEMILIUS	a noble Roman.
+
+
+ALARBUS	|
+	|
+DEMETRIUS	|  sons to Tamora.
+	|
+CHIRON	|
+
+
+AARON	a Moor, beloved by Tamora.
+
+	A Captain, Tribune, Messenger, and Clown; Romans.
+	(Captain:)
+	(Messenger:)
+	(Clown:)
+
+	Goths and Romans.
+	(First Goth:)
+	(Second Goth:)
+	(Third Goth:)
+
+TAMORA	Queen of the Goths.
+
+LAVINIA	daughter of Titus Andronicus.
+
+	A Nurse. (Nurse:)
+
+	Senators, Tribunes, Officers, Soldiers, and
+	Attendants.
+
+
+
+SCENE	Rome, and the country near it.
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rome. Before the Capitol.
+
+
+	[The Tomb of the ANDRONICI appearing; the Tribunes
+	and Senators aloft. Enter, below, from one side,
+	SATURNINUS and his Followers; and, from the other
+	side, BASSIANUS and his Followers; with drum and colours]
+
+SATURNINUS	Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
+	Defend the justice of my cause with arms,
+	And, countrymen, my loving followers,
+	Plead my successive title with your swords:
+	I am his first-born son, that was the last
+	That wore the imperial diadem of Rome;
+	Then let my father's honours live in me,
+	Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.
+
+BASSIANUS	Romans, friends, followers, favorers of my right,
+	If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son,
+	Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
+	Keep then this passage to the Capitol
+	And suffer not dishonour to approach
+	The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
+	To justice, continence and nobility;
+	But let desert in pure election shine,
+	And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.
+
+	[Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, aloft, with the crown]
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Princes, that strive by factions and by friends
+	Ambitiously for rule and empery,
+	Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand
+	A special party, have, by common voice,
+	In election for the Roman empery,
+	Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius
+	For many good and great deserts to Rome:
+	A nobler man, a braver warrior,
+	Lives not this day within the city walls:
+	He by the senate is accit'd home
+	From weary wars against the barbarous Goths;
+	That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,
+	Hath yoked a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
+	Ten years are spent since first he undertook
+	This cause of Rome and chastised with arms
+	Our enemies' pride: five times he hath return'd
+	Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
+	In coffins from the field;
+	And now at last, laden with horror's spoils,
+	Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
+	Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.
+	Let us entreat, by honour of his name,
+	Whom worthily you would have now succeed.
+	And in the Capitol and senate's right,
+	Whom you pretend to honour and adore,
+	That you withdraw you and abate your strength;
+	Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should,
+	Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.
+
+SATURNINUS	How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts!
+
+BASSIANUS	Marcus Andronicus, so I do ally
+	In thy uprightness and integrity,
+	And so I love and honour thee and thine,
+	Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,
+	And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
+	Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament,
+	That I will here dismiss my loving friends,
+	And to my fortunes and the people's favor
+	Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd.
+
+	[Exeunt the followers of BASSIANUS]
+
+SATURNINUS	Friends, that have been thus forward in my right,
+	I thank you all and here dismiss you all,
+	And to the love and favor of my country
+	Commit myself, my person and the cause.
+
+	[Exeunt the followers of SATURNINUS]
+
+	Rome, be as just and gracious unto me
+	As I am confident and kind to thee.
+	Open the gates, and let me in.
+
+BASSIANUS	Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.
+
+	[Flourish. SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS go up into the Capitol]
+
+	[Enter a Captain]
+
+Captain	Romans, make way: the good Andronicus.
+	Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion,
+	Successful in the battles that he fights,
+	With honour and with fortune is return'd
+	From where he circumscribed with his sword,
+	And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome.
+
+	[Drums and trumpets sounded. Enter MARTIUS and
+	MUTIUS; After them, two Men bearing a coffin
+	covered with black; then LUCIUS and QUINTUS. After
+	them, TITUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA, with
+	ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, AARON, and other Goths,
+	prisoners; Soldiers and people following. The
+	Bearers set down the coffin, and TITUS speaks]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!
+	Lo, as the bark, that hath discharged her fraught,
+	Returns with precious jading to the bay
+	From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
+	Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
+	To re-salute his country with his tears,
+	Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.
+	Thou great defender of this Capitol,
+	Stand gracious to the rites that we intend!
+	Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons,
+	Half of the number that King Priam had,
+	Behold the poor remains, alive and dead!
+	These that survive let Rome reward with love;
+	These that I bring unto their latest home,
+	With burial amongst their ancestors:
+	Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword.
+	Titus, unkind and careless of thine own,
+	Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet,
+	To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?
+	Make way to lay them by their brethren.
+
+	[The tomb is opened]
+
+	There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,
+	And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars!
+	O sacred receptacle of my joys,
+	Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
+	How many sons of mine hast thou in store,
+	That thou wilt never render to me more!
+
+LUCIUS	Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,
+	That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile
+	Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh,
+	Before this earthy prison of their bones;
+	That so the shadows be not unappeased,
+	Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	I give him you, the noblest that survives,
+	The eldest son of this distressed queen.
+
+TAMORA	Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror,
+	Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
+	A mother's tears in passion for her son:
+	And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
+	O, think my son to be as dear to me!
+	Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome,
+	To beautify thy triumphs and return,
+	Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke,
+	But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets,
+	For valiant doings in their country's cause?
+	O, if to fight for king and commonweal
+	Were piety in thine, it is in these.
+	Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood:
+	Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
+	Draw near them then in being merciful:
+	Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge:
+	Thrice noble Titus, spare my first-born son.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
+	These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld
+	Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain
+	Religiously they ask a sacrifice:
+	To this your son is mark'd, and die he must,
+	To appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
+
+LUCIUS	Away with him! and make a fire straight;
+	And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
+	Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed.
+
+	[Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS, with ALARBUS]
+
+TAMORA	O cruel, irreligious piety!
+
+CHIRON	Was ever Scythia half so barbarous?
+
+DEMETRIUS	Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.
+	Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive
+	To tremble under Titus' threatening looks.
+	Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal
+	The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy
+	With opportunity of sharp revenge
+	Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent,
+	May favor Tamora, the Queen of Goths--
+	When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen--
+	To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.
+
+	[Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS and MUTIUS, with
+	their swords bloody]
+
+LUCIUS	See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
+	Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,
+	And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
+	Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.
+	Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren,
+	And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Let it be so; and let Andronicus
+	Make this his latest farewell to their souls.
+
+	[Trumpets sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb]
+
+	In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
+	Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest,
+	Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
+	Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
+	Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms,
+	No noise, but silence and eternal sleep:
+	In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!
+
+	[Enter LAVINIA]
+
+LAVINIA	In peace and honour live Lord Titus long;
+	My noble lord and father, live in fame!
+	Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears
+	I render, for my brethren's obsequies;
+	And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy,
+	Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome:
+	O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
+	Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud!
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved
+	The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!
+	Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
+	And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise!
+
+	[Enter, below, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and Tribunes;
+	re-enter SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS, attended]
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother,
+	Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	And welcome, nephews, from successful wars,
+	You that survive, and you that sleep in fame!
+	Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,
+	That in your country's service drew your swords:
+	But safer triumph is this funeral pomp,
+	That hath aspired to Solon's happiness
+	And triumphs over chance in honour's bed.
+	Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
+	Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
+	Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust,
+	This palliament of white and spotless hue;
+	And name thee in election for the empire,
+	With these our late-deceased emperor's sons:
+	Be candidatus then, and put it on,
+	And help to set a head on headless Rome.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	A better head her glorious body fits
+	Than his that shakes for age and feebleness:
+	What should I don this robe, and trouble you?
+	Be chosen with proclamations to-day,
+	To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life,
+	And set abroad new business for you all?
+	Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
+	And led my country's strength successfully,
+	And buried one and twenty valiant sons,
+	Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,
+	In right and service of their noble country
+	Give me a staff of honour for mine age,
+	But not a sceptre to control the world:
+	Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.
+
+SATURNINUS	Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Patience, Prince Saturninus.
+
+SATURNINUS	Romans, do me right:
+	Patricians, draw your swords: and sheathe them not
+	Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor.
+	Andronicus, would thou wert shipp'd to hell,
+	Rather than rob me of the people's hearts!
+
+LUCIUS	Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good
+	That noble-minded Titus means to thee!
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee
+	The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves.
+
+BASSIANUS	Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,
+	But honour thee, and will do till I die:
+	My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,
+	I will most thankful be; and thanks to men
+	Of noble minds is honourable meed.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	People of Rome, and people's tribunes here,
+	I ask your voices and your suffrages:
+	Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
+
+Tribunes	To gratify the good Andronicus,
+	And gratulate his safe return to Rome,
+	The people will accept whom he admits.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I make,
+	That you create your emperor's eldest son,
+	Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope,
+	Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth,
+	And ripen justice in this commonweal:
+	Then, if you will elect by my advice,
+	Crown him and say 'Long live our emperor!'
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	With voices and applause of every sort,
+	Patricians and plebeians, we create
+	Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor,
+	And say 'Long live our Emperor Saturnine!'
+
+	[A long flourish till they come down]
+
+SATURNINUS	Titus Andronicus, for thy favors done
+	To us in our election this day,
+	I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,
+	And will with deeds requite thy gentleness:
+	And, for an onset, Titus, to advance
+	Thy name and honourable family,
+	Lavinia will I make my empress,
+	Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
+	And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse:
+	Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	It doth, my worthy lord; and in this match
+	I hold me highly honour'd of your grace:
+	And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine,
+	King and commander of our commonweal,
+	The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate
+	My sword, my chariot and my prisoners;
+	Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord:
+	Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
+	Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet.
+
+SATURNINUS	Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life!
+	How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts
+	Rome shall record, and when I do forget
+	The least of these unspeakable deserts,
+	Romans, forget your fealty to me.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	[To TAMORA]  Now, madam, are you prisoner to
+	an emperor;
+	To him that, for your honour and your state,
+	Will use you nobly and your followers.
+
+SATURNINUS	A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue
+	That I would choose, were I to choose anew.
+	Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance:
+	Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer,
+	Thou comest not to be made a scorn in Rome:
+	Princely shall be thy usage every way.
+	Rest on my word, and let not discontent
+	Daunt all your hopes: madam, he comforts you
+	Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.
+	Lavinia, you are not displeased with this?
+
+LAVINIA	Not I, my lord; sith true nobility
+	Warrants these words in princely courtesy.
+
+SATURNINUS	Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go;
+	Ransomless here we set our prisoners free:
+	Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum.
+
+	[Flourish. SATURNINUS courts TAMORA in dumb show]
+
+BASSIANUS	Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.
+
+	[Seizing LAVINIA]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	How, sir! are you in earnest then, my lord?
+
+BASSIANUS	Ay, noble Titus; and resolved withal
+	To do myself this reason and this right.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	'Suum cuique' is our Roman justice:
+	This prince in justice seizeth but his own.
+
+LUCIUS	And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's guard?
+	Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surprised!
+
+SATURNINUS	Surprised! by whom?
+
+BASSIANUS	By him that justly may
+	Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.
+
+	[Exeunt BASSIANUS and MARCUS with LAVINIA]
+
+MUTIUS	Brothers, help to convey her hence away,
+	And with my sword I'll keep this door safe.
+
+	[Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back.
+
+MUTIUS	My lord, you pass not here.
+
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	What, villain boy!
+	Barr'st me my way in Rome?
+
+	[Stabbing MUTIUS]
+
+MUTIUS	Help, Lucius, help!
+
+	[Dies]
+
+	[During the fray, SATURNINUS, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS,
+	CHIRON and AARON go out and re-enter, above]
+
+	[Re-enter LUCIUS]
+
+LUCIUS	My lord, you are unjust, and, more than so,
+	In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine;
+	My sons would never so dishonour me:
+	Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor.
+
+LUCIUS	Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife,
+	That is another's lawful promised love.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+SATURNINUS	No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not,
+	Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock:
+	I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once;
+	Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons,
+	Confederates all thus to dishonour me.
+	Was there none else in Rome to make a stale,
+	But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,
+	Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine,
+	That said'st I begg'd the empire at thy hands.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	O monstrous! what reproachful words are these?
+
+SATURNINUS	But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece
+	To him that flourish'd for her with his sword
+	A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy;
+	One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,
+	To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	These words are razors to my wounded heart.
+
+SATURNINUS	And therefore, lovely Tamora, queen of Goths,
+	That like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs
+	Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome,
+	If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice,
+	Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride,
+	And will create thee empress of Rome,
+	Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice?
+	And here I swear by all the Roman gods,
+	Sith priest and holy water are so near
+	And tapers burn so bright and every thing
+	In readiness for Hymenaeus stand,
+	I will not re-salute the streets of Rome,
+	Or climb my palace, till from forth this place
+	I lead espoused my bride along with me.
+
+TAMORA	And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome I swear,
+	If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,
+	She will a handmaid be to his desires,
+	A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.
+
+SATURNINUS	Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany
+	Your noble emperor and his lovely bride,
+	Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine,
+	Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered:
+	There shall we consummate our spousal rites.
+
+	[Exeunt all but TITUS]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	I am not bid to wait upon this bride.
+	Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
+	Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs?
+
+	[Re-enter MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS]
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done!
+	In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine,
+	Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed
+	That hath dishonour'd all our family;
+	Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons!
+
+LUCIUS	But let us give him burial, as becomes;
+	Give Mutius burial with our brethren.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb:
+	This monument five hundred years hath stood,
+	Which I have sumptuously re-edified:
+	Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors
+	Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls:
+	Bury him where you can; he comes not here.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	My lord, this is impiety in you:
+	My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him
+	He must be buried with his brethren.
+
+QUINTUS	|
+	| And shall, or him we will accompany.
+MARTIUS	|
+
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	'And shall!' what villain was it that spake
+	that word?
+
+QUINTUS	He that would vouch it in any place but here.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	What, would you bury him in my despite?
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee
+	To pardon Mutius and to bury him.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest,
+	And, with these boys, mine honour thou hast wounded:
+	My foes I do repute you every one;
+	So, trouble me no more, but get you gone.
+
+MARTIUS	He is not with himself; let us withdraw.
+
+QUINTUS	Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried.
+
+	[MARCUS and the Sons of TITUS kneel]
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Brother, for in that name doth nature plead,--
+
+QUINTUS	Father, and in that name doth nature speak,--
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,--
+
+LUCIUS	Dear father, soul and substance of us all,--
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter
+	His noble nephew here in virtue's nest,
+	That died in honour and Lavinia's cause.
+	Thou art a Roman; be not barbarous:
+	The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax
+	That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son
+	Did graciously plead for his funerals:
+	Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy
+	Be barr'd his entrance here.
+
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Rise, Marcus, rise.
+	The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw,
+	To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome!
+	Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
+
+	[MUTIUS is put into the tomb]
+
+LUCIUS	There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends,
+	Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.
+
+All	[Kneeling]  No man shed tears for noble Mutius;
+	He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	My lord, to step out of these dreary dumps,
+	How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths
+	Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	I know not, Marcus; but I know it is,
+	Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell:
+	Is she not then beholding to the man
+	That brought her for this high good turn so far?
+	Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.
+
+	[Flourish. Re-enter, from one side, SATURNINUS
+	attended, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON; from
+	the other, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, and others]
+
+SATURNINUS	So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize:
+	God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride!
+
+BASSIANUS	And you of yours, my lord! I say no more,
+	Nor wish no less; and so, I take my leave.
+
+SATURNINUS	Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power,
+	Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.
+
+BASSIANUS	Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my own,
+	My truth-betrothed love and now my wife?
+	But let the laws of Rome determine all;
+	Meanwhile I am possess'd of that is mine.
+
+SATURNINUS	'Tis good, sir: you are very short with us;
+	But, if we live, we'll be as sharp with you.
+
+BASSIANUS	My lord, what I have done, as best I may,
+	Answer I must and shall do with my life.
+	Only thus much I give your grace to know:
+	By all the duties that I owe to Rome,
+	This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here,
+	Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd;
+	That in the rescue of Lavinia
+	With his own hand did slay his youngest son,
+	In zeal to you and highly moved to wrath
+	To be controll'd in that he frankly gave:
+	Receive him, then, to favor, Saturnine,
+	That hath express'd himself in all his deeds
+	A father and a friend to thee and Rome.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds:
+	'Tis thou and those that have dishonour'd me.
+	Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge,
+	How I have loved and honour'd Saturnine!
+
+TAMORA	My worthy lord, if ever Tamora
+	Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine,
+	Then hear me speak in indifferently for all;
+	And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past.
+
+SATURNINUS	What, madam! be dishonour'd openly,
+	And basely put it up without revenge?
+
+TAMORA	Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend
+	I should be author to dishonour you!
+	But on mine honour dare I undertake
+	For good Lord Titus' innocence in all;
+	Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs:
+	Then, at my suit, look graciously on him;
+	Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose,
+	Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart.
+	[Aside to SATURNINUS]  My lord, be ruled by me,
+	be won at last;
+	Dissemble all your griefs and discontents:
+	You are but newly planted in your throne;
+	Lest, then, the people, and patricians too,
+	Upon a just survey, take Titus' part,
+	And so supplant you for ingratitude,
+	Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin,
+	Yield at entreats; and then let me alone:
+	I'll find a day to massacre them all
+	And raze their faction and their family,
+	The cruel father and his traitorous sons,
+	To whom I sued for my dear son's life,
+	And make them know what 'tis to let a queen
+	Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.
+
+	[Aloud]
+
+	Come, come, sweet emperor; come, Andronicus;
+	Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart
+	That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.
+
+SATURNINUS	Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevail'd.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	I thank your majesty, and her, my lord:
+	These words, these looks, infuse new life in me.
+
+TAMORA	Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,
+	A Roman now adopted happily,
+	And must advise the emperor for his good.
+	This day all quarrels die, Andronicus;
+	And let it be mine honour, good my lord,
+	That I have reconciled your friends and you.
+	For you, Prince Bassianus, I have pass'd
+	My word and promise to the emperor,
+	That you will be more mild and tractable.
+	And fear not lords, and you, Lavinia;
+	By my advice, all humbled on your knees,
+	You shall ask pardon of his majesty.
+
+LUCIUS	We do, and vow to heaven and to his highness,
+	That what we did was mildly as we might,
+	Tendering our sister's honour and our own.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	That, on mine honour, here I do protest.
+
+SATURNINUS	Away, and talk not; trouble us no more.
+
+TAMORA	Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be friends:
+	The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace;
+	I will not be denied: sweet heart, look back.
+
+SATURNINUS	Marcus, for thy sake and thy brother's here,
+	And at my lovely Tamora's entreats,
+	I do remit these young men's heinous faults: Stand up.
+	Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,
+	I found a friend, and sure as death I swore
+	I would not part a bachelor from the priest.
+	Come, if the emperor's court can feast two brides,
+	You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends.
+	This day shall be a love-day, Tamora.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	To-morrow, an it please your majesty
+	To hunt the panther and the hart with me,
+	With horn and hound we'll give your grace bonjour.
+
+SATURNINUS	Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too.
+
+	[Flourish. Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rome. Before the Palace.
+
+
+	[Enter AARON]
+
+AARON	Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top,
+	Safe out of fortune's shot; and sits aloft,
+	Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash;
+	Advanced above pale envy's threatening reach.
+	As when the golden sun salutes the morn,
+	And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,
+	Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach,
+	And overlooks the highest-peering hills;
+	So Tamora:
+	Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait,
+	And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown.
+	Then, Aaron, arm thy heart, and fit thy thoughts,
+	To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress,
+	And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long
+	Hast prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous chains
+	And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes
+	Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus.
+	Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts!
+	I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold,
+	To wait upon this new-made empress.
+	To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen,
+	This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph,
+	This siren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine,
+	And see his shipwreck and his commonweal's.
+	Holloa! what storm is this?
+
+	[Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, braving]
+
+DEMETRIUS	Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge,
+	And manners, to intrude where I am graced;
+	And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be.
+
+CHIRON	Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all;
+	And so in this, to bear me down with braves.
+	'Tis not the difference of a year or two
+	Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate:
+	I am as able and as fit as thou
+	To serve, and to deserve my mistress' grace;
+	And that my sword upon thee shall approve,
+	And plead my passions for Lavinia's love.
+
+AARON	[Aside]  Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep
+	the peace.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised,
+	Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side,
+	Are you so desperate grown, to threat your friends?
+	Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath
+	Till you know better how to handle it.
+
+CHIRON	Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have,
+	Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Ay, boy, grow ye so brave?
+
+	[They draw]
+
+AARON	[Coming forward]  Why, how now, lords!
+	So near the emperor's palace dare you draw,
+	And maintain such a quarrel openly?
+	Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge:
+	I would not for a million of gold
+	The cause were known to them it most concerns;
+	Nor would your noble mother for much more
+	Be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome.
+	For shame, put up.
+
+DEMETRIUS	                  Not I, till I have sheathed
+	My rapier in his bosom and withal
+	Thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat
+	That he hath breathed in my dishonour here.
+
+CHIRON	For that I am prepared and full resolved.
+	Foul-spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue,
+	And with thy weapon nothing darest perform!
+
+AARON	Away, I say!
+	Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore,
+	This petty brabble will undo us all.
+	Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous
+	It is to jet upon a prince's right?
+	What, is Lavinia then become so loose,
+	Or Bassianus so degenerate,
+	That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd
+	Without controlment, justice, or revenge?
+	Young lords, beware! and should the empress know
+	This discord's ground, the music would not please.
+
+CHIRON	I care not, I, knew she and all the world:
+	I love Lavinia more than all the world.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice:
+	Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope.
+
+AARON	Why, are ye mad? or know ye not, in Rome
+	How furious and impatient they be,
+	And cannot brook competitors in love?
+	I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths
+	By this device.
+
+CHIRON	                  Aaron, a thousand deaths
+	Would I propose to achieve her whom I love.
+
+AARON	To achieve her! how?
+
+DEMETRIUS	Why makest thou it so strange?
+	She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd;
+	She is a woman, therefore may be won;
+	She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved.
+	What, man! more water glideth by the mill
+	Than wots the miller of; and easy it is
+	Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know:
+	Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother.
+	Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge.
+
+AARON	[Aside]  Ay, and as good as Saturninus may.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Then why should he despair that knows to court it
+	With words, fair looks and liberality?
+	What, hast not thou full often struck a doe,
+	And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose?
+
+AARON	Why, then, it seems, some certain snatch or so
+	Would serve your turns.
+
+CHIRON	Ay, so the turn were served.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Aaron, thou hast hit it.
+
+AARON	Would you had hit it too!
+	Then should not we be tired with this ado.
+	Why, hark ye, hark ye! and are you such fools
+	To square for this? would it offend you, then
+	That both should speed?
+
+CHIRON	Faith, not me.
+
+DEMETRIUS	                  Nor me, so I were one.
+
+AARON	For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar:
+	'Tis policy and stratagem must do
+	That you affect; and so must you resolve,
+	That what you cannot as you would achieve,
+	You must perforce accomplish as you may.
+	Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste
+	Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love.
+	A speedier course than lingering languishment
+	Must we pursue, and I have found the path.
+	My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand;
+	There will the lovely Roman ladies troop:
+	The forest walks are wide and spacious;
+	And many unfrequented plots there are
+	Fitted by kind for rape and villany:
+	Single you thither then this dainty doe,
+	And strike her home by force, if not by words:
+	This way, or not at all, stand you in hope.
+	Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit
+	To villany and vengeance consecrate,
+	Will we acquaint with all that we intend;
+	And she shall file our engines with advice,
+	That will not suffer you to square yourselves,
+	But to your wishes' height advance you both.
+	The emperor's court is like the house of Fame,
+	The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears:
+	The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull;
+	There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take
+	your turns;
+	There serve your lusts, shadow'd from heaven's eye,
+	And revel in Lavinia's treasury.
+
+CHIRON	Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice,
+
+DEMETRIUS	Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream
+	To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits.
+	Per Styga, per manes vehor.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A forest near Rome. Horns and cry of hounds heard.
+
+
+	[Enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, with Hunters, &c., MARCUS,
+	LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey,
+	The fields are fragrant and the woods are green:
+	Uncouple here and let us make a bay
+	And wake the emperor and his lovely bride
+	And rouse the prince and ring a hunter's peal,
+	That all the court may echo with the noise.
+	Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours,
+	To attend the emperor's person carefully:
+	I have been troubled in my sleep this night,
+	But dawning day new comfort hath inspired.
+
+	[A cry of hounds and horns, winded in a peal. Enter
+	SATURNINUS, TAMORA, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, DEMETRIUS,
+	CHIRON, and Attendants]
+
+	Many good morrows to your majesty;
+	Madam, to you as many and as good:
+	I promised your grace a hunter's peal.
+
+SATURNINUS	And you have rung it lustily, my lord;
+	Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.
+
+BASSIANUS	Lavinia, how say you?
+
+LAVINIA	I say, no;
+	I have been broad awake two hours and more.
+
+SATURNINUS	Come on, then; horse and chariots let us have,
+	And to our sport.
+
+	[To TAMORA]
+
+	Madam, now shall ye see
+	Our Roman hunting.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	                  I have dogs, my lord,
+	Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase,
+	And climb the highest promontory top.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	And I have horse will follow where the game
+	Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound,
+	But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE III	A lonely part of the forest.
+
+
+	[Enter AARON, with a bag of gold]
+
+AARON	He that had wit would think that I had none,
+	To bury so much gold under a tree,
+	And never after to inherit it.
+	Let him that thinks of me so abjectly
+	Know that this gold must coin a stratagem,
+	Which, cunningly effected, will beget
+	A very excellent piece of villany:
+	And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest
+
+	[Hides the gold]
+
+	That have their alms out of the empress' chest.
+
+	[Enter TAMORA]
+
+TAMORA	My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad,
+	When every thing doth make a gleeful boast?
+	The birds chant melody on every bush,
+	The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun,
+	The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind
+	And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground:
+	Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit,
+	And, whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds,
+	Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns,
+	As if a double hunt were heard at once,
+	Let us sit down and mark their yelping noise;
+	And, after conflict such as was supposed
+	The wandering prince and Dido once enjoy'd,
+	When with a happy storm they were surprised
+	And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave,
+	We may, each wreathed in the other's arms,
+	Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber;
+	Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds
+	Be unto us as is a nurse's song
+	Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep.
+
+AARON	Madam, though Venus govern your desires,
+	Saturn is dominator over mine:
+	What signifies my deadly-standing eye,
+	My silence and my cloudy melancholy,
+	My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls
+	Even as an adder when she doth unroll
+	To do some fatal execution?
+	No, madam, these are no venereal signs:
+	Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
+	Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
+	Hark Tamora, the empress of my soul,
+	Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee,
+	This is the day of doom for Bassianus:
+	His Philomel must lose her tongue to-day,
+	Thy sons make pillage of her chastity
+	And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood.
+	Seest thou this letter? take it up, I pray thee,
+	And give the king this fatal plotted scroll.
+	Now question me no more; we are espied;
+	Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty,
+	Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction.
+
+TAMORA	Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life!
+
+AARON	No more, great empress; Bassianus comes:
+	Be cross with him; and I'll go fetch thy sons
+	To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Enter BASSIANUS and LAVINIA]
+
+BASSIANUS	Who have we here? Rome's royal empress,
+	Unfurnish'd of her well-beseeming troop?
+	Or is it Dian, habited like her,
+	Who hath abandoned her holy groves
+	To see the general hunting in this forest?
+
+TAMORA	Saucy controller of our private steps!
+	Had I the power that some say Dian had,
+	Thy temples should be planted presently
+	With horns, as was Actaeon's; and the hounds
+	Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs,
+	Unmannerly intruder as thou art!
+
+LAVINIA	Under your patience, gentle empress,
+	'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning;
+	And to be doubted that your Moor and you
+	Are singled forth to try experiments:
+	Jove shield your husband from his hounds to-day!
+	'Tis pity they should take him for a stag.
+
+BASSIANUS	Believe me, queen, your swarth Cimmerian
+	Doth make your honour of his body's hue,
+	Spotted, detested, and abominable.
+	Why are you sequester'd from all your train,
+	Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed.
+	And wander'd hither to an obscure plot,
+	Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor,
+	If foul desire had not conducted you?
+
+LAVINIA	And, being intercepted in your sport,
+	Great reason that my noble lord be rated
+	For sauciness. I pray you, let us hence,
+	And let her joy her raven-colour'd love;
+	This valley fits the purpose passing well.
+
+BASSIANUS	The king my brother shall have note of this.
+
+LAVINIA	Ay, for these slips have made him noted long:
+	Good king, to be so mightily abused!
+
+TAMORA	Why have I patience to endure all this?
+
+	[Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON]
+
+DEMETRIUS	How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother!
+	Why doth your highness look so pale and wan?
+
+TAMORA	Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?
+	These two have 'ticed me hither to this place:
+	A barren detested vale, you see it is;
+	The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean,
+	O'ercome with moss and baleful mistletoe:
+	Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds,
+	Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven:
+	And when they show'd me this abhorred pit,
+	They told me, here, at dead time of the night,
+	A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes,
+	Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins,
+	Would make such fearful and confused cries
+	As any mortal body hearing it
+	Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly.
+	No sooner had they told this hellish tale,
+	But straight they told me they would bind me here
+	Unto the body of a dismal yew,
+	And leave me to this miserable death:
+	And then they call'd me foul adulteress,
+	Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms
+	That ever ear did hear to such effect:
+	And, had you not by wondrous fortune come,
+	This vengeance on me had they executed.
+	Revenge it, as you love your mother's life,
+	Or be ye not henceforth call'd my children.
+
+DEMETRIUS	This is a witness that I am thy son.
+
+	[Stabs BASSIANUS]
+
+CHIRON	And this for me, struck home to show my strength.
+
+	[Also stabs BASSIANUS, who dies]
+
+LAVINIA	Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous Tamora,
+	For no name fits thy nature but thy own!
+
+TAMORA	Give me thy poniard; you shall know, my boys
+	Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Stay, madam; here is more belongs to her;
+	First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw:
+	This minion stood upon her chastity,
+	Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty,
+	And with that painted hope braves your mightiness:
+	And shall she carry this unto her grave?
+
+CHIRON	An if she do, I would I were an eunuch.
+	Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,
+	And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust.
+
+TAMORA	But when ye have the honey ye desire,
+	Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting.
+
+CHIRON	I warrant you, madam, we will make that sure.
+	Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy
+	That nice-preserved honesty of yours.
+
+LAVINIA	O Tamora! thou bear'st a woman's face,--
+
+TAMORA	I will not hear her speak; away with her!
+
+LAVINIA	Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Listen, fair madam: let it be your glory
+	To see her tears; but be your heart to them
+	As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.
+
+LAVINIA	When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam?
+	O, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee;
+	The milk thou suck'dst from her did turn to marble;
+	Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny.
+	Yet every mother breeds not sons alike:
+
+	[To CHIRON]
+
+	Do thou entreat her show a woman pity.
+
+CHIRON	What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard?
+
+LAVINIA	'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark:
+	Yet have I heard,--O, could I find it now!--
+	The lion moved with pity did endure
+	To have his princely paws pared all away:
+	Some say that ravens foster forlorn children,
+	The whilst their own birds famish in their nests:
+	O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no,
+	Nothing so kind, but something pitiful!
+
+TAMORA	I know not what it means; away with her!
+
+LAVINIA	O, let me teach thee! for my father's sake,
+	That gave thee life, when well he might have
+	slain thee,
+	Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears.
+
+TAMORA	Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me,
+	Even for his sake am I pitiless.
+	Remember, boys, I pour'd forth tears in vain,
+	To save your brother from the sacrifice;
+	But fierce Andronicus would not relent;
+	Therefore, away with her, and use her as you will,
+	The worse to her, the better loved of me.
+
+LAVINIA	O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen,
+	And with thine own hands kill me in this place!
+	For 'tis not life that I have begg'd so long;
+	Poor I was slain when Bassianus died.
+
+TAMORA	What begg'st thou, then? fond woman, let me go.
+
+LAVINIA	'Tis present death I beg; and one thing more
+	That womanhood denies my tongue to tell:
+	O, keep me from their worse than killing lust,
+	And tumble me into some loathsome pit,
+	Where never man's eye may behold my body:
+	Do this, and be a charitable murderer.
+
+TAMORA	So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee:
+	No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Away! for thou hast stay'd us here too long.
+
+LAVINIA	No grace? no womanhood? Ah, beastly creature!
+	The blot and enemy to our general name!
+	Confusion fall--
+
+CHIRON	Nay, then I'll stop your mouth. Bring thou her husband:
+	This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him.
+
+	[DEMETRIUS throws the body of BASSIANUS into the
+	pit; then exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, dragging
+	off LAVINIA]
+
+TAMORA	Farewell, my sons: see that you make her sure.
+	Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed,
+	Till all the Andronici be made away.
+	Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor,
+	And let my spleenful sons this trull deflow'r.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[Re-enter AARON, with QUINTUS and MARTIUS]
+
+AARON	Come on, my lords, the better foot before:
+	Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit
+	Where I espied the panther fast asleep.
+
+QUINTUS	My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes.
+
+MARTIUS	And mine, I promise you; were't not for shame,
+	Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile.
+
+	[Falls into the pit]
+
+QUINTUS	What art thou fall'n? What subtle hole is this,
+	Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briers,
+	Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood
+	As fresh as morning dew distill'd on flowers?
+	A very fatal place it seems to me.
+
+	Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall?
+
+MARTIUS	O brother, with the dismall'st object hurt
+	That ever eye with sight made heart lament!
+
+AARON	[Aside]  Now will I fetch the king to find them here,
+	That he thereby may give a likely guess
+	How these were they that made away his brother.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MARTIUS	Why dost not comfort me, and help me out
+	From this unhallowed and blood-stained hole?
+
+QUINTUS	I am surprised with an uncouth fear;
+	A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints:
+	My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
+
+MARTIUS	To prove thou hast a true-divining heart,
+	Aaron and thou look down into this den,
+	And see a fearful sight of blood and death.
+
+QUINTUS	Aaron is gone; and my compassionate heart
+	Will not permit mine eyes once to behold
+	The thing whereat it trembles by surmise;
+	O, tell me how it is; for ne'er till now
+	Was I a child to fear I know not what.
+
+MARTIUS	Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here,
+	All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd lamb,
+	In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
+
+QUINTUS	If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he?
+
+MARTIUS	Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
+	A precious ring, that lightens all the hole,
+	Which, like a taper in some monument,
+	Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks,
+	And shows the ragged entrails of the pit:
+	So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus
+	When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood.
+	O brother, help me with thy fainting hand--
+	If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath--
+	Out of this fell devouring receptacle,
+	As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth.
+
+QUINTUS	Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out;
+	Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,
+	I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb
+	Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave.
+	I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.
+
+MARTIUS	Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.
+
+QUINTUS	Thy hand once more; I will not loose again,
+	Till thou art here aloft, or I below:
+	Thou canst not come to me: I come to thee.
+
+	[Falls in]
+
+	[Enter SATURNINUS with AARON]
+
+SATURNINUS	Along with me: I'll see what hole is here,
+	And what he is that now is leap'd into it.
+	Say who art thou that lately didst descend
+	Into this gaping hollow of the earth?
+
+MARTIUS	The unhappy son of old Andronicus:
+	Brought hither in a most unlucky hour,
+	To find thy brother Bassianus dead.
+
+SATURNINUS	My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest:
+	He and his lady both are at the lodge
+	Upon the north side of this pleasant chase;
+	'Tis not an hour since I left him there.
+
+MARTIUS	We know not where you left him all alive;
+	But, out, alas! here have we found him dead.
+
+	[Re-enter TAMORA, with Attendants; TITUS
+	ANDRONICUS, and Lucius]
+
+TAMORA	Where is my lord the king?
+
+SATURNINUS	Here, Tamora, though grieved with killing grief.
+
+TAMORA	Where is thy brother Bassianus?
+
+SATURNINUS	Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound:
+	Poor Bassianus here lies murdered.
+
+TAMORA	Then all too late I bring this fatal writ,
+	The complot of this timeless tragedy;
+	And wonder greatly that man's face can fold
+	In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny.
+
+	[She giveth SATURNINUS a letter]
+
+SATURNINUS	[Reads]  'An if we miss to meet him handsomely--
+	Sweet huntsman, Bassianus 'tis we mean--
+	Do thou so much as dig the grave for him:
+	Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy reward
+	Among the nettles at the elder-tree
+	Which overshades the mouth of that same pit
+	Where we decreed to bury Bassianus.
+	Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.'
+	O Tamora! was ever heard the like?
+	This is the pit, and this the elder-tree.
+	Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out
+	That should have murdered Bassianus here.
+
+AARON	My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.
+
+SATURNINUS	[To TITUS]  Two of thy whelps, fell curs of
+	bloody kind,
+	Have here bereft my brother of his life.
+	Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison:
+	There let them bide until we have devised
+	Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.
+
+TAMORA	What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing!
+	How easily murder is discovered!
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	High emperor, upon my feeble knee
+	I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed,
+	That this fell fault of my accursed sons,
+	Accursed if the fault be proved in them,--
+
+SATURNINUS	If it be proved! you see it is apparent.
+	Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you?
+
+TAMORA	Andronicus himself did take it up.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	I did, my lord: yet let me be their bail;
+	For, by my father's reverend tomb, I vow
+	They shall be ready at your highness' will
+	To answer their suspicion with their lives.
+
+SATURNINUS	Thou shalt not bail them: see thou follow me.
+	Some bring the murder'd body, some the murderers:
+	Let them not speak a word; the guilt is plain;
+	For, by my soul, were there worse end than death,
+	That end upon them should be executed.
+
+TAMORA	Andronicus, I will entreat the king;
+	Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	Another part of the forest.
+
+
+	[Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON with LAVINIA, ravished;
+	her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out]
+
+DEMETRIUS	So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak,
+	Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee.
+
+CHIRON	Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so,
+	An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe.
+
+DEMETRIUS	See, how with signs and tokens she can scrowl.
+
+CHIRON	Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands.
+
+DEMETRIUS	She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash;
+	And so let's leave her to her silent walks.
+
+CHIRON	An 'twere my case, I should go hang myself.
+
+DEMETRIUS	If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord.
+
+	[Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON]
+
+	[Enter MARCUS]
+
+MARCUS	Who is this? my niece, that flies away so fast!
+	Cousin, a word; where is your husband?
+	If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me!
+	If I do wake, some planet strike me down,
+	That I may slumber in eternal sleep!
+	Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands
+	Have lopp'd and hew'd and made thy body bare
+	Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments,
+	Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in,
+	And might not gain so great a happiness
+	As have thy love? Why dost not speak to me?
+	Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
+	Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind,
+	Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips,
+	Coming and going with thy honey breath.
+	But, sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee,
+	And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue.
+	Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame!
+	And, notwithstanding all this loss of blood,
+	As from a conduit with three issuing spouts,
+	Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face
+	Blushing to be encountered with a cloud.
+	Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so?
+	O, that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast,
+	That I might rail at him, to ease my mind!
+	Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd,
+	Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
+	Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,
+	And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind:
+	But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee;
+	A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met,
+	And he hath cut those pretty fingers off,
+	That could have better sew'd than Philomel.
+	O, had the monster seen those lily hands
+	Tremble, like aspen-leaves, upon a lute,
+	And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
+	He would not then have touch'd them for his life!
+	Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony
+	Which that sweet tongue hath made,
+	He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep
+	As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet.
+	Come, let us go, and make thy father blind;
+	For such a sight will blind a father's eye:
+	One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads;
+	What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes?
+	Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee
+	O, could our mourning ease thy misery!
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rome. A street.
+
+
+	[Enter Judges, Senators and Tribunes, with MARTIUS
+	and QUINTUS, bound, passing on to the place of
+	execution; TITUS going before, pleading]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Hear me, grave fathers! noble tribunes, stay!
+	For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent
+	In dangerous wars, whilst you securely slept;
+	For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed;
+	For all the frosty nights that I have watch'd;
+	And for these bitter tears, which now you see
+	Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks;
+	Be pitiful to my condemned sons,
+	Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought.
+	For two and twenty sons I never wept,
+	Because they died in honour's lofty bed.
+
+	[Lieth down; the Judges, &c., pass by him, and Exeunt]
+
+	For these, these, tribunes, in the dust I write
+	My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears:
+	Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite;
+	My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush.
+	O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain,
+	That shall distil from these two ancient urns,
+	Than youthful April shall with all his showers:
+	In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still;
+	In winter with warm tears I'll melt the snow
+	And keep eternal spring-time on thy face,
+	So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood.
+
+	[Enter LUCIUS, with his sword drawn]
+
+	O reverend tribunes! O gentle, aged men!
+	Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death;
+	And let me say, that never wept before,
+	My tears are now prevailing orators.
+
+LUCIUS	O noble father, you lament in vain:
+	The tribunes hear you not; no man is by;
+	And you recount your sorrows to a stone.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead.
+	Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you,--
+
+LUCIUS	My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Why, tis no matter, man; if they did hear,
+	They would not mark me, or if they did mark,
+	They would not pity me, yet plead I must;
+	And bootless unto them [                  ]
+	Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones;
+	Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
+	Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes,
+	For that they will not intercept my tale:
+	When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
+	Receive my tears and seem to weep with me;
+	And, were they but attired in grave weeds,
+	Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
+	A stone is soft as wax,--tribunes more hard than stones;
+	A stone is silent, and offendeth not,
+	And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death.
+
+	[Rises]
+
+	But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn?
+
+LUCIUS	To rescue my two brothers from their death:
+	For which attempt the judges have pronounced
+	My everlasting doom of banishment.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	O happy man! they have befriended thee.
+	Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive
+	That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers?
+	Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey
+	But me and mine: how happy art thou, then,
+	From these devourers to be banished!
+	But who comes with our brother Marcus here?
+
+	[Enter MARCUS and LAVINIA]
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep;
+	Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break:
+	I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Will it consume me? let me see it, then.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	This was thy daughter.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Why, Marcus, so she is.
+
+LUCIUS	Ay me, this object kills me!
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon her.
+	Speak, Lavinia, what accursed hand
+	Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight?
+	What fool hath added water to the sea,
+	Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy?
+	My grief was at the height before thou camest,
+	And now like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds.
+	Give me a sword, I'll chop off my hands too;
+	For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain;
+	And they have nursed this woe, in feeding life;
+	In bootless prayer have they been held up,
+	And they have served me to effectless use:
+	Now all the service I require of them
+	Is that the one will help to cut the other.
+	'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands;
+	For hands, to do Rome service, are but vain.
+
+LUCIUS	Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee?
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	O, that delightful engine of her thoughts
+	That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence,
+	Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage,
+	Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung
+	Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear!
+
+LUCIUS	O, say thou for her, who hath done this deed?
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	O, thus I found her, straying in the park,
+	Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer
+	That hath received some unrecuring wound.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	It was my deer; and he that wounded her
+	Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead:
+	For now I stand as one upon a rock
+	Environed with a wilderness of sea,
+	Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave,
+	Expecting ever when some envious surge
+	Will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
+	This way to death my wretched sons are gone;
+	Here stands my other son, a banished man,
+	And here my brother, weeping at my woes.
+	But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn,
+	Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul.
+	Had I but seen thy picture in this plight,
+	It would have madded me: what shall I do
+	Now I behold thy lively body so?
+	Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears:
+	Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee:
+	Thy husband he is dead: and for his death
+	Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this.
+	Look, Marcus! ah, son Lucius, look on her!
+	When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears
+	Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew
+	Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband;
+	Perchance because she knows them innocent.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful
+	Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them.
+	No, no, they would not do so foul a deed;
+	Witness the sorrow that their sister makes.
+	Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips.
+	Or make some sign how I may do thee ease:
+	Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius,
+	And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain,
+	Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks
+	How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry,
+	With miry slime left on them by a flood?
+	And in the fountain shall we gaze so long
+	Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness,
+	And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears?
+	Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine?
+	Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows
+	Pass the remainder of our hateful days?
+	What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues,
+	Plot some deuce of further misery,
+	To make us wonder'd at in time to come.
+
+LUCIUS	Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief,
+	See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot
+	Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,
+	For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own.
+
+LUCIUS	Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs:
+	Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say
+	That to her brother which I said to thee:
+	His napkin, with his true tears all bewet,
+	Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks.
+	O, what a sympathy of woe is this,
+	As far from help as Limbo is from bliss!
+
+	[Enter AARON]
+
+AARON	Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor
+	Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons,
+	Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus,
+	Or any one of you, chop off your hand,
+	And send it to the king: he for the same
+	Will send thee hither both thy sons alive;
+	And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron!
+	Did ever raven sing so like a lark,
+	That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise?
+	With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand:
+	Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?
+
+LUCIUS	Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine,
+	That hath thrown down so many enemies,
+	Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn:
+	My youth can better spare my blood than you;
+	And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	 Which of your hands hath not defended Rome,
+	And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe,
+	Writing destruction on the enemy's castle?
+	O, none of both but are of high desert:
+	My hand hath been but idle; let it serve
+	To ransom my two nephews from their death;
+	Then have I kept it to a worthy end.
+
+AARON	Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along,
+	For fear they die before their pardon come.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	My hand shall go.
+
+LUCIUS	                  By heaven, it shall not go!
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these
+	Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
+
+LUCIUS	Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son,
+	Let me redeem my brothers both from death.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	And, for our father's sake and mother's care,
+	Now let me show a brother's love to thee.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Agree between you; I will spare my hand.
+
+LUCIUS	Then I'll go fetch an axe.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	But I will use the axe.
+
+	[Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both:
+	Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.
+
+AARON	[Aside]  If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest,
+	And never, whilst I live, deceive men so:
+	But I'll deceive you in another sort,
+	And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass.
+
+	[Cuts off TITUS's hand]
+
+	[Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd.
+	Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand:
+	Tell him it was a hand that warded him
+	From thousand dangers; bid him bury it
+	More hath it merited; that let it have.
+	As for my sons, say I account of them
+	As jewels purchased at an easy price;
+	And yet dear too, because I bought mine own.
+
+AARON	I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand
+	Look by and by to have thy sons with thee.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany
+	Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it!
+	Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace.
+	Aaron will have his soul black like his face.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,
+	And bow this feeble ruin to the earth:
+	If any power pities wretched tears,
+	To that I call!
+
+	[To LAVINIA]
+	What, wilt thou kneel with me?
+	Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers;
+	Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim,
+	And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds
+	When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	O brother, speak with possibilities,
+	And do not break into these deep extremes.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?
+	Then be my passions bottomless with them.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	But yet let reason govern thy lament.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	If there were reason for these miseries,
+	Then into limits could I bind my woes:
+	When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow?
+	If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,
+	Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face?
+	And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?
+	I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow!
+	She is the weeping welkin, I the earth:
+	Then must my sea be moved with her sighs;
+	Then must my earth with her continual tears
+	Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd;
+	For why my bowels cannot hide her woes,
+	But like a drunkard must I vomit them.
+	Then give me leave, for losers will have leave
+	To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
+
+	[Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand]
+
+Messenger	Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid
+	For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor.
+	Here are the heads of thy two noble sons;
+	And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back;
+	Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd;
+	That woe is me to think upon thy woes
+	More than remembrance of my father's death.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily,
+	And be my heart an ever-burning hell!
+	These miseries are more than may be borne.
+	To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal;
+	But sorrow flouted at is double death.
+
+LUCIUS	Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound,
+	And yet detested life not shrink thereat!
+	That ever death should let life bear his name,
+	Where life hath no more interest but to breathe!
+
+	[LAVINIA kisses TITUS]
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless
+	As frozen water to a starved snake.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	When will this fearful slumber have an end?
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus;
+	Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads,
+	Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here:
+	Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight
+	Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,
+	Even like a stony image, cold and numb.
+	Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs:
+	Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand
+	Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight
+	The closing up of our most wretched eyes;
+	Now is a time to storm; why art thou still?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Ha, ha, ha!
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Why, I have not another tear to shed:
+	Besides, this sorrow is an enemy,
+	And would usurp upon my watery eyes
+	And make them blind with tributary tears:
+	Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave?
+	For these two heads do seem to speak to me,
+	And threat me I shall never come to bliss
+	Till all these mischiefs be return'd again
+	Even in their throats that have committed them.
+	Come, let me see what task I have to do.
+	You heavy people, circle me about,
+	That I may turn me to each one of you,
+	And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
+	The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head;
+	And in this hand the other I will bear.
+	Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms!
+	Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth.
+	As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight;
+	Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay:
+	Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there:
+	And, if you love me, as I think you do,
+	Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do.
+
+	[Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA]
+
+LUCIUS	Farewell Andronicus, my noble father,
+	The wofull'st man that ever lived in Rome:
+	Farewell, proud Rome; till Lucius come again,
+	He leaves his pledges dearer than his life:
+	Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister;
+	O, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been!
+	But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives
+	But in oblivion and hateful griefs.
+	If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs;
+	And make proud Saturnine and his empress
+	Beg at the gates, like Tarquin and his queen.
+	Now will I to the Goths, and raise a power,
+	To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT III
+
+
+
+SCENE II	A room in Titus's house. A banquet set out.
+
+
+	[Enter TITUS, MARCUS, LAVINIA and Young LUCIUS, a boy]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	So, so; now sit: and look you eat no more
+	Than will preserve just so much strength in us
+	As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.
+	Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot:
+	Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands,
+	And cannot passionate our tenfold grief
+	With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine
+	Is left to tyrannize upon my breast;
+	Who, when my heart, all mad with misery,
+	Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
+	Then thus I thump it down.
+
+	[To LAVINIA]
+
+	Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs!
+	When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating,
+	Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still.
+	Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans;
+	Or get some little knife between thy teeth,
+	And just against thy heart make thou a hole;
+	That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall
+	May run into that sink, and soaking in
+	Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Fie, brother, fie! teach her not thus to lay
+	Such violent hands upon her tender life.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	How now! has sorrow made thee dote already?
+	Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I.
+	What violent hands can she lay on her life?
+	Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands;
+	To bid AEneas tell the tale twice o'er,
+	How Troy was burnt and he made miserable?
+	O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands,
+	Lest we remember still that we have none.
+	Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk,
+	As if we should forget we had no hands,
+	If Marcus did not name the word of hands!
+	Come, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this:
+	Here is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she says;
+	I can interpret all her martyr'd signs;
+	She says she drinks no other drink but tears,
+	Brew'd with her sorrow, mesh'd upon her cheeks:
+	Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought;
+	In thy dumb action will I be as perfect
+	As begging hermits in their holy prayers:
+	Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven,
+	Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign,
+	But I of these will wrest an alphabet
+	And by still practise learn to know thy meaning.
+
+Young LUCIUS	Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments:
+	Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Alas, the tender boy, in passion moved,
+	Doth weep to see his grandsire's heaviness.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Peace, tender sapling; thou art made of tears,
+	And tears will quickly melt thy life away.
+
+	[MARCUS strikes the dish with a knife]
+
+	What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife?
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	At that that I have kill'd, my lord; a fly.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Out on thee, murderer! thou kill'st my heart;
+	Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny:
+	A deed of death done on the innocent
+	Becomes not Titus' brother: get thee gone:
+	I see thou art not for my company.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	But how, if that fly had a father and mother?
+	How would he hang his slender gilded wings,
+	And buzz lamenting doings in the air!
+	Poor harmless fly,
+	That, with his pretty buzzing melody,
+	Came here to make us merry! and thou hast
+	kill'd him.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Pardon me, sir; it was a black ill-favor'd fly,
+	Like to the empress' Moor; therefore I kill'd him.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	O, O, O,
+	Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
+	For thou hast done a charitable deed.
+	Give me thy knife, I will insult on him;
+	Flattering myself, as if it were the Moor
+	Come hither purposely to poison me.--
+	There's for thyself, and that's for Tamora.
+	Ah, sirrah!
+	Yet, I think, we are not brought so low,
+	But that between us we can kill a fly
+	That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Alas, poor man! grief has so wrought on him,
+	He takes false shadows for true substances.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Come, take away. Lavinia, go with me:
+	I'll to thy closet; and go read with thee
+	Sad stories chanced in the times of old.
+	Come, boy, and go with me: thy sight is young,
+	And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Rome. Titus's garden.
+
+
+	[Enter young LUCIUS, and LAVINIA running after him,
+	and the boy flies from her, with books under his
+	arm. Then enter TITUS and MARCUS]
+
+Young LUCIUS	Help, grandsire, help! my aunt Lavinia
+	Follows me every where, I know not why:
+	Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes.
+	Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Stand by me, Lucius; do not fear thine aunt.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.
+
+Young LUCIUS	Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Fear her not, Lucius: somewhat doth she mean:
+	See, Lucius, see how much she makes of thee:
+	Somewhither would she have thee go with her.
+	Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care
+	Read to her sons than she hath read to thee
+	Sweet poetry and Tully's Orator.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?
+
+Young LUCIUS	My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,
+	Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her:
+	For I have heard my grandsire say full oft,
+	Extremity of griefs would make men mad;
+	And I have read that Hecuba of Troy
+	Ran mad through sorrow: that made me to fear;
+	Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt
+	Loves me as dear as e'er my mother did,
+	And would not, but in fury, fright my youth:
+	Which made me down to throw my books, and fly--
+	Causeless, perhaps. But pardon me, sweet aunt:
+	And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,
+	I will most willingly attend your ladyship.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Lucius, I will.
+
+	[LAVINIA turns over with her stumps the books which
+	LUCIUS has let fall]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	How now, Lavinia! Marcus, what means this?
+	Some book there is that she desires to see.
+	Which is it, girl, of these? Open them, boy.
+	But thou art deeper read, and better skill'd
+	Come, and take choice of all my library,
+	And so beguile thy sorrow, till the heavens
+	Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed.
+	Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	I think she means that there was more than one
+	Confederate in the fact: ay, more there was;
+	Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?
+
+Young LUCIUS	Grandsire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphoses;
+	My mother gave it me.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	For love of her that's gone,
+	Perhaps she cull'd it from among the rest.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Soft! see how busily she turns the leaves!
+
+	[Helping her]
+
+	What would she find? Lavinia, shall I read?
+	This is the tragic tale of Philomel,
+	And treats of Tereus' treason and his rape:
+	And rape, I fear, was root of thine annoy.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	See, brother, see; note how she quotes the leaves.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl,
+	Ravish'd and wrong'd, as Philomela was,
+	Forced in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods? See, see!
+	Ay, such a place there is, where we did hunt--
+	O, had we never, never hunted there!--
+	Pattern'd by that the poet here describes,
+	By nature made for murders and for rapes.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	O, why should nature build so foul a den,
+	Unless the gods delight in tragedies?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Give signs, sweet girl, for here are none
+	but friends,
+	What Roman lord it was durst do the deed:
+	Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,
+	That left the camp to sin in Lucrece' bed?
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Sit down, sweet niece: brother, sit down by me.
+	Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury,
+	Inspire me, that I may this treason find!
+	My lord, look here: look here, Lavinia:
+	This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst
+	This after me, when I have writ my name
+	Without the help of any hand at all.
+
+	[He writes his name with his staff, and guides it
+	with feet and mouth]
+
+	Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift!
+	Write thou good niece; and here display, at last,
+	What God will have discover'd for revenge;
+	Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,
+	That we may know the traitors and the truth!
+
+	[She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it
+	with her stumps, and writes]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	O, do ye read, my lord, what she hath writ?
+	'Stuprum. Chiron. Demetrius.'
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	What, what! the lustful sons of Tamora
+	Performers of this heinous, bloody deed?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Magni Dominator poli,
+	Tam lentus audis scelera? tam lentus vides?
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	O, calm thee, gentle lord; although I know
+	There is enough written upon this earth
+	To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts
+	And arm the minds of infants to exclaims.
+	My lord, kneel down with me; Lavinia, kneel;
+	And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope;
+	And swear with me, as, with the woful fere
+	And father of that chaste dishonour'd dame,
+	Lord Junius Brutus sware for Lucrece' rape,
+	That we will prosecute by good advice
+	Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
+	And see their blood, or die with this reproach.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	'Tis sure enough, an you knew how.
+	But if you hunt these bear-whelps, then beware:
+	The dam will wake; and, if she wind you once,
+	She's with the lion deeply still in league,
+	And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,
+	And when he sleeps will she do what she list.
+	You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let it alone;
+	And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
+	And with a gad of steel will write these words,
+	And lay it by: the angry northern wind
+	Will blow these sands, like Sibyl's leaves, abroad,
+	And where's your lesson, then? Boy, what say you?
+
+Young LUCIUS	I say, my lord, that if I were a man,
+	Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe
+	For these bad bondmen to the yoke of Rome.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Ay, that's my boy! thy father hath full oft
+	For his ungrateful country done the like.
+
+Young LUCIUS	And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Come, go with me into mine armoury;
+	Lucius, I'll fit thee; and withal, my boy,
+	Shalt carry from me to the empress' sons
+	Presents that I intend to send them both:
+	Come, come; thou'lt do thy message, wilt thou not?
+
+Young LUCIUS	Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another course.
+	Lavinia, come. Marcus, look to my house:
+	Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court:
+	Ay, marry, will we, sir; and we'll be waited on.
+
+	[Exeunt TITUS, LAVINIA, and Young LUCIUS]
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	O heavens, can you hear a good man groan,
+	And not relent, or not compassion him?
+	Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,
+	That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart
+	Than foemen's marks upon his batter'd shield;
+	But yet so just that he will not revenge.
+	Revenge, ye heavens, for old Andronicus!
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE II	The same. A room in the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter, from one side, AARON, DEMETRIUS, and
+	CHIRON; from the other side, Young LUCIUS, and an
+	Attendant, with a bundle of weapons, and verses
+	writ upon them]
+
+CHIRON	Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius;
+	He hath some message to deliver us.
+
+AARON	Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.
+
+Young LUCIUS	My lords, with all the humbleness I may,
+	I greet your honours from Andronicus.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	And pray the Roman gods confound you both!
+
+DEMETRIUS	Gramercy, lovely Lucius: what's the news?
+
+Young LUCIUS	[Aside]  That you are both decipher'd, that's the news,
+	For villains mark'd with rape.--May it please you,
+	My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me
+	The goodliest weapons of his armoury
+	To gratify your honourable youth,
+	The hope of Rome; for so he bade me say;
+	And so I do, and with his gifts present
+	Your lordships, that, whenever you have need,
+	You may be armed and appointed well:
+	And so I leave you both:
+
+	[Aside]
+		   like bloody villains.
+
+	[Exeunt Young LUCIUS, and Attendant]
+
+DEMETRIUS	What's here? A scroll; and written round about?
+	Let's see;
+
+	[Reads]
+
+	'Integer vitae, scelerisque purus,
+	Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu.'
+
+CHIRON	O, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well:
+	I read it in the grammar long ago.
+
+AARON	Ay, just; a verse in Horace; right, you have it.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+	Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!
+	Here's no sound jest! the old man hath found their guilt;
+	And sends them weapons wrapped about with lines,
+	That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick.
+	But were our witty empress well afoot,
+	She would applaud Andronicus' conceit:
+	But let her rest in her unrest awhile.
+
+	And now, young lords, was't not a happy star
+	Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so,
+	Captives, to be advanced to this height?
+	It did me good, before the palace gate
+	To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing.
+
+DEMETRIUS	But me more good, to see so great a lord
+	Basely insinuate and send us gifts.
+
+AARON	Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius?
+	Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
+
+DEMETRIUS	I would we had a thousand Roman dames
+	At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.
+
+CHIRON	A charitable wish and full of love.
+
+AARON	Here lacks but your mother for to say amen.
+
+CHIRON	And that would she for twenty thousand more.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Come, let us go; and pray to all the gods
+	For our beloved mother in her pains.
+
+AARON	[Aside]  Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over.
+
+	[Trumpets sound within]
+
+DEMETRIUS	Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish thus?
+
+CHIRON	Belike, for joy the emperor hath a son.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Soft! who comes here?
+
+	[Enter a Nurse, with a blackamoor Child in her arms]
+
+Nurse	Good morrow, lords:
+	O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?
+
+AARON	Well, more or less, or ne'er a whit at all,
+	Here Aaron is; and what with Aaron now?
+
+Nurse	O gentle Aaron, we are all undone!
+	Now help, or woe betide thee evermore!
+
+AARON	Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep!
+	What dost thou wrap and fumble in thine arms?
+
+Nurse	O, that which I would hide from heaven's eye,
+	Our empress' shame, and stately Rome's disgrace!
+	She is deliver'd, lords; she is deliver'd.
+
+AARON	To whom?
+
+Nurse	       I mean, she is brought a-bed.
+
+AARON	Well, God give her good rest! What hath he sent her?
+
+Nurse	A devil.
+
+AARON	Why, then she is the devil's dam; a joyful issue.
+
+Nurse	A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue:
+	Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad
+	Amongst the fairest breeders of our clime:
+	The empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,
+	And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point.
+
+AARON	'Zounds, ye whore! is black so base a hue?
+	Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Villain, what hast thou done?
+
+AARON	That which thou canst not undo.
+
+CHIRON	Thou hast undone our mother.
+
+AARON	Villain, I have done thy mother.
+
+DEMETRIUS	And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone.
+	Woe to her chance, and damn'd her loathed choice!
+	Accursed the offspring of so foul a fiend!
+
+CHIRON	It shall not live.
+
+AARON	It shall not die.
+
+Nurse	Aaron, it must; the mother wills it so.
+
+AARON	What, must it, nurse? then let no man but I
+	Do execution on my flesh and blood.
+
+DEMETRIUS	I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's point:
+	Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon dispatch it.
+
+AARON	Sooner this sword shall plough thy bowels up.
+
+	[Takes the Child from the Nurse, and draws]
+
+	Stay, murderous villains! will you kill your brother?
+	Now, by the burning tapers of the sky,
+	That shone so brightly when this boy was got,
+	He dies upon my scimitar's sharp point
+	That touches this my first-born son and heir!
+	I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,
+	With all his threatening band of Typhon's brood,
+	Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,
+	Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands.
+	What, what, ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys!
+	Ye white-limed walls! ye alehouse painted signs!
+	Coal-black is better than another hue,
+	In that it scorns to bear another hue;
+	For all the water in the ocean
+	Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,
+	Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
+	Tell the empress from me, I am of age
+	To keep mine own, excuse it how she can.
+
+DEMETRIUS	Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?
+
+AARON	My mistress is my mistress; this myself,
+	The vigour and the picture of my youth:
+	This before all the world do I prefer;
+	This maugre all the world will I keep safe,
+	Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.
+
+DEMETRIUS	By this our mother is forever shamed.
+
+CHIRON	Rome will despise her for this foul escape.
+
+Nurse	The emperor, in his rage, will doom her death.
+
+CHIRON	I blush to think upon this ignomy.
+
+AARON	Why, there's the privilege your beauty bears:
+	Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing
+	The close enacts and counsels of the heart!
+	Here's a young lad framed of another leer:
+	Look, how the black slave smiles upon the father,
+	As who should say 'Old lad, I am thine own.'
+	He is your brother, lords, sensibly fed
+	Of that self-blood that first gave life to you,
+	And from that womb where you imprison'd were
+	He is enfranchised and come to light:
+	Nay, he is your brother by the surer side,
+	Although my seal be stamped in his face.
+
+Nurse	Aaron, what shall I say unto the empress?
+
+DEMETRIUS	Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
+	And we will all subscribe to thy advice:
+	Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.
+
+AARON	Then sit we down, and let us all consult.
+	My son and I will have the wind of you:
+	Keep there: now talk at pleasure of your safety.
+
+	[They sit]
+
+DEMETRIUS	How many women saw this child of his?
+
+AARON	Why, so, brave lords! when we join in league,
+	I am a lamb: but if you brave the Moor,
+	The chafed boar, the mountain lioness,
+	The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms.
+	But say, again; how many saw the child?
+
+Nurse	Cornelia the midwife and myself;
+	And no one else but the deliver'd empress.
+
+AARON	The empress, the midwife, and yourself:
+	Two may keep counsel when the third's away:
+	Go to the empress, tell her this I said.
+
+	[He kills the nurse]
+
+	Weke, weke! so cries a pig prepared to the spit.
+
+DEMETRIUS	What mean'st thou, Aaron? wherefore didst thou this?
+
+AARON	O Lord, sir, 'tis a deed of policy:
+	Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours,
+	A long-tongued babbling gossip? no, lords, no:
+	And now be it known to you my full intent.
+	Not far, one Muli lives, my countryman;
+	His wife but yesternight was brought to bed;
+	His child is like to her, fair as you are:
+	Go pack with him, and give the mother gold,
+	And tell them both the circumstance of all;
+	And how by this their child shall be advanced,
+	And be received for the emperor's heir,
+	And substituted in the place of mine,
+	To calm this tempest whirling in the court;
+	And let the emperor dandle him for his own.
+	Hark ye, lords; ye see I have given her physic,
+
+	[Pointing to the nurse]
+
+	And you must needs bestow her funeral;
+	The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms:
+	This done, see that you take no longer days,
+	But send the midwife presently to me.
+	The midwife and the nurse well made away,
+	Then let the ladies tattle what they please.
+
+CHIRON	Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air
+	With secrets.
+
+DEMETRIUS	                  For this care of Tamora,
+	Herself and hers are highly bound to thee.
+
+	[Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON bearing off the
+	Nurse's body]
+
+AARON	Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies;
+	There to dispose this treasure in mine arms,
+	And secretly to greet the empress' friends.
+	Come on, you thick lipp'd slave, I'll bear you hence;
+	For it is you that puts us to our shifts:
+	I'll make you feed on berries and on roots,
+	And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat,
+	And cabin in a cave, and bring you up
+	To be a warrior, and command a camp.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE III	The same. A public place.
+
+
+	[Enter TITUS, bearing arrows with letters at the
+	ends of them; with him, MARCUS, Young LUCIUS,
+	PUBLIUS, SEMPRONIUS, CAIUS, and other Gentlemen,
+	with bows]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Come, Marcus; come, kinsmen; this is the way.
+	Sir boy, now let me see your archery;
+	Look ye draw home enough, and 'tis there straight.
+	Terras Astraea reliquit:
+	Be you remember'd, Marcus, she's gone, she's fled.
+	Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall
+	Go sound the ocean, and cast your nets;
+	Happily you may catch her in the sea;
+	Yet there's as little justice as at land:
+	No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it;
+	'Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade,
+	And pierce the inmost centre of the earth:
+	Then, when you come to Pluto's region,
+	I pray you, deliver him this petition;
+	Tell him, it is for justice and for aid,
+	And that it comes from old Andronicus,
+	Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.
+	Ah, Rome! Well, well; I made thee miserable
+	What time I threw the people's suffrages
+	On him that thus doth tyrannize o'er me.
+	Go, get you gone; and pray be careful all,
+	And leave you not a man-of-war unsearch'd:
+	This wicked emperor may have shipp'd her hence;
+	And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	O Publius, is not this a heavy case,
+	To see thy noble uncle thus distract?
+
+PUBLIUS	Therefore, my lord, it highly us concerns
+	By day and night to attend him carefully,
+	And feed his humour kindly as we may,
+	Till time beget some careful remedy.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy.
+	Join with the Goths; and with revengeful war
+	Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,
+	And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Publius, how now! how now, my masters!
+	What, have you met with her?
+
+PUBLIUS	No, my good lord; but Pluto sends you word,
+	If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall:
+	Marry, for Justice, she is so employ'd,
+	He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,
+	So that perforce you must needs stay a time.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.
+	I'll dive into the burning lake below,
+	And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.
+	Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we
+	No big-boned men framed of the Cyclops' size;
+	But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back,
+	Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can bear:
+	And, sith there's no justice in earth nor hell,
+	We will solicit heaven and move the gods
+	To send down Justice for to wreak our wrongs.
+	Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus;
+
+	[He gives them the arrows]
+
+	'Ad Jovem,' that's for you: here, 'Ad Apollinem:'
+	'Ad Martem,' that's for myself:
+	Here, boy, to Pallas: here, to Mercury:
+	To Saturn, Caius, not to Saturnine;
+	You were as good to shoot against the wind.
+	To it, boy! Marcus, loose when I bid.
+	Of my word, I have written to effect;
+	There's not a god left unsolicited.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court:
+	We will afflict the emperor in his pride.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Now, masters, draw.
+
+	[They shoot]
+		O, well said, Lucius!
+	Good boy, in Virgo's lap; give it Pallas.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon;
+	Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Ha, ha!
+	Publius, Publius, what hast thou done?
+	See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus' horns.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	This was the sport, my lord: when Publius shot,
+	The Bull, being gall'd, gave Aries such a knock
+	That down fell both the Ram's horns in the court;
+	And who should find them but the empress' villain?
+	She laugh'd, and told the Moor he should not choose
+	But give them to his master for a present.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Why, there it goes: God give his lordship joy!
+
+	[Enter a Clown, with a basket, and two pigeons in
+	it]
+
+	News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post is come.
+	Sirrah, what tidings? have you any letters?
+	Shall I have justice? what says Jupiter?
+
+Clown	O, the gibbet-maker! he says that he hath taken
+	them down again, for the man must not be hanged till
+	the next week.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?
+
+Clown	Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank with him
+	in all my life.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
+
+Clown	Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
+
+Clown	From heaven! alas, sir, I never came there     God
+	forbid I should be so bold to press to heaven in my
+	young days. Why, I am going with my pigeons to the
+	tribunal plebs, to take up a matter of brawl
+	betwixt my uncle and one of the emperial's men.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for
+	your oration; and let him deliver the pigeons to
+	the emperor from you.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the emperor
+	with a grace?
+
+Clown	Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Sirrah, come hither: make no more ado,
+	But give your pigeons to the emperor:
+	By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.
+	Hold, hold; meanwhile here's money for thy charges.
+	Give me pen and ink. Sirrah, can you with a grace
+	deliver a supplication?
+
+Clown	Ay, sir.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Then here is a supplication for you. And when you
+	come to him, at the first approach you must kneel,
+	then kiss his foot, then deliver up your pigeons, and
+	then look for your reward. I'll be at hand, sir; see
+	you do it bravely.
+
+Clown	I warrant you, sir, let me alone.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Sirrah, hast thou a knife? come, let me see it.
+	Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration;
+	For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant.
+	And when thou hast given it the emperor,
+	Knock at my door, and tell me what he says.
+
+Clown	God be with you, sir; I will.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Come, Marcus, let us go. Publius, follow me.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT IV
+
+
+
+SCENE IV	The same. Before the palace.
+
+
+	[Enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON,
+	Lords, and others; SATURNINUS with the arrows in
+	his hand that TITUS shot]
+
+SATURNINUS	Why, lords, what wrongs are these! was ever seen
+	An emperor in Rome thus overborne,
+	Troubled, confronted thus; and, for the extent
+	Of egal justice, used in such contempt?
+	My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods,
+	However these disturbers of our peace
+	Buz in the people's ears, there nought hath pass'd,
+	But even with law, against the willful sons
+	Of old Andronicus. And what an if
+	His sorrows have so overwhelm'd his wits,
+	Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks,
+	His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness?
+	And now he writes to heaven for his redress:
+	See, here's to Jove, and this to Mercury;
+	This to Apollo; this to the god of war;
+	Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome!
+	What's this but libelling against the senate,
+	And blazoning our injustice every where?
+	A goodly humour, is it not, my lords?
+	As who would say, in Rome no justice were.
+	But if I live, his feigned ecstasies
+	Shall be no shelter to these outrages:
+	But he and his shall know that justice lives
+	In Saturninus' health, whom, if she sleep,
+	He'll so awake as she in fury shall
+	Cut off the proud'st conspirator that lives.
+
+TAMORA	My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
+	Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts,
+	Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus' age,
+	The effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,
+	Whose loss hath pierced him deep and scarr'd his heart;
+	And rather comfort his distressed plight
+	Than prosecute the meanest or the best
+	For these contempts.
+
+	[Aside]
+
+		Why, thus it shall become
+	High-witted Tamora to gloze with all:
+	But, Titus, I have touched thee to the quick,
+	Thy life-blood out: if Aaron now be wise,
+	Then is all safe, the anchor's in the port.
+
+	[Enter Clown]
+
+	How now, good fellow! wouldst thou speak with us?
+
+Clown	Yea, forsooth, an your mistership be emperial.
+
+TAMORA	Empress I am, but yonder sits the emperor.
+
+Clown	'Tis he. God and Saint Stephen give you good den:
+	I have brought you a letter and a couple of pigeons here.
+
+	[SATURNINUS reads the letter]
+
+SATURNINUS	Go, take him away, and hang him presently.
+
+Clown	How much money must I have?
+
+TAMORA	Come, sirrah, you must be hanged.
+
+Clown	Hanged! by'r lady, then I have brought up a neck to
+	a fair end.
+
+	[Exit, guarded]
+
+SATURNINUS	Despiteful and intolerable wrongs!
+	Shall I endure this monstrous villany?
+	I know from whence this same device proceeds:
+	May this be borne?--as if his traitorous sons,
+	That died by law for murder of our brother,
+	Have by my means been butcher'd wrongfully!
+	Go, drag the villain hither by the hair;
+	Nor age nor honour shall shape privilege:
+	For this proud mock I'll be thy slaughterman;
+	Sly frantic wretch, that holp'st to make me great,
+	In hope thyself should govern Rome and me.
+
+	[Enter AEMILIUS]
+
+	What news with thee, AEmilius?
+
+AEMILIUS	Arm, arm, my lord;--Rome never had more cause.
+	The Goths have gather'd head; and with a power
+	high-resolved men, bent to the spoil,
+	They hither march amain, under conduct
+	Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus;
+	Who threats, in course of this revenge, to do
+	As much as ever Coriolanus did.
+
+SATURNINUS	Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths?
+	These tidings nip me, and I hang the head
+	As flowers with frost or grass beat down with storms:
+	Ay, now begin our sorrows to approach:
+	'Tis he the common people love so much;
+	Myself hath often over-heard them say,
+	When I have walked like a private man,
+	That Lucius' banishment was wrongfully,
+	And they have wish'd that Lucius were their emperor.
+
+TAMORA	Why should you fear? is not your city strong?
+
+SATURNINUS	Ay, but the citizens favor Lucius,
+	And will revolt from me to succor him.
+
+TAMORA	King, be thy thoughts imperious, like thy name.
+	Is the sun dimm'd, that gnats do fly in it?
+	The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
+	And is not careful what they mean thereby,
+	Knowing that with the shadow of his wings
+	He can at pleasure stint their melody:
+	Even so mayst thou the giddy men of Rome.
+	Then cheer thy spirit : for know, thou emperor,
+	I will enchant the old Andronicus
+	With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous,
+	Than baits to fish, or honey-stalks to sheep,
+	When as the one is wounded with the bait,
+	The other rotted with delicious feed.
+
+SATURNINUS	But he will not entreat his son for us.
+
+TAMORA	If Tamora entreat him, then he will:
+	For I can smooth and fill his aged ear
+	With golden promises; that, were his heart
+	Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf,
+	Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue.
+
+	[To AEmilius]
+
+	Go thou before, be our ambassador:
+	Say that the emperor requests a parley
+	Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting
+	Even at his father's house, the old Andronicus.
+
+SATURNINUS	AEmilius, do this message honourably:
+	And if he stand on hostage for his safety,
+	Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.
+
+AEMILIUS	Your bidding shall I do effectually.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+TAMORA	Now will I to that old Andronicus;
+	And temper him with all the art I have,
+	To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths.
+	And now, sweet emperor, be blithe again,
+	And bury all thy fear in my devices.
+
+SATURNINUS	Then go successantly, and plead to him.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE I	Plains near Rome.
+
+
+	[Enter LUCIUS with an army of Goths, with drum and colours]
+
+LUCIUS	Approved warriors, and my faithful friends,
+	I have received letters from great Rome,
+	Which signify what hate they bear their emperor
+	And how desirous of our sight they are.
+	Therefore, great lords, be, as your titles witness,
+	Imperious and impatient of your wrongs,
+	And wherein Rome hath done you any scath,
+	Let him make treble satisfaction.
+
+First Goth	Brave slip, sprung from the great Andronicus,
+	Whose name was once our terror, now our comfort;
+	Whose high exploits and honourable deeds
+	Ingrateful Rome requites with foul contempt,
+	Be bold in us: we'll follow where thou lead'st,
+	Like stinging bees in hottest summer's day
+	Led by their master to the flowered fields,
+	And be avenged on cursed Tamora.
+
+All the Goths	And as he saith, so say we all with him.
+
+LUCIUS	I humbly thank him, and I thank you all.
+	But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth?
+
+	[Enter a Goth, leading AARON with his Child in his arms]
+
+Second Goth	Renowned Lucius, from our troops I stray'd
+	To gaze upon a ruinous monastery;
+	And, as I earnestly did fix mine eye
+	Upon the wasted building, suddenly
+	I heard a child cry underneath a wall.
+	I made unto the noise; when soon I heard
+	The crying babe controll'd with this discourse:
+	'Peace, tawny slave, half me and half thy dam!
+	Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art,
+	Had nature lent thee but thy mother's look,
+	Villain, thou mightst have been an emperor:
+	But where the bull and cow are both milk-white,
+	They never do beget a coal-black calf.
+	Peace, villain, peace!'--even thus he rates
+	the babe,--
+	'For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth;
+	Who, when he knows thou art the empress' babe,
+	Will hold thee dearly for thy mother's sake.'
+	With this, my weapon drawn, I rush'd upon him,
+	Surprised him suddenly, and brought him hither,
+	To use as you think needful of the man.
+
+LUCIUS	O worthy Goth, this is the incarnate devil
+	That robb'd Andronicus of his good hand;
+	This is the pearl that pleased your empress' eye,
+	And here's the base fruit of his burning lust.
+	Say, wall-eyed slave, whither wouldst thou convey
+	This growing image of thy fiend-like face?
+	Why dost not speak? what, deaf? not a word?
+	A halter, soldiers! hang him on this tree.
+	And by his side his fruit of bastardy.
+
+AARON	Touch not the boy; he is of royal blood.
+
+LUCIUS	Too like the sire for ever being good.
+	First hang the child, that he may see it sprawl;
+	A sight to vex the father's soul withal.
+	Get me a ladder.
+
+	[A ladder brought, which AARON is made to ascend]
+
+AARON	                  Lucius, save the child,
+	And bear it from me to the empress.
+	If thou do this, I'll show thee wondrous things,
+	That highly may advantage thee to hear:
+	If thou wilt not, befall what may befall,
+	I'll speak no more but 'Vengeance rot you all!'
+
+LUCIUS	Say on: an if it please me which thou speak'st
+	Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourish'd.
+
+AARON	An if it please thee! why, assure thee, Lucius,
+	'Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak;
+	For I must talk of murders, rapes and massacres,
+	Acts of black night, abominable deeds,
+	Complots of mischief, treason, villanies
+	Ruthful to hear, yet piteously perform'd:
+	And this shall all be buried by my death,
+	Unless thou swear to me my child shall live.
+
+LUCIUS	Tell on thy mind; I say thy child shall live.
+
+AARON	Swear that he shall, and then I will begin.
+
+LUCIUS	Who should I swear by? thou believest no god:
+	That granted, how canst thou believe an oath?
+
+AARON	What if I do not? as, indeed, I do not;
+	Yet, for I know thou art religious
+	And hast a thing within thee called conscience,
+	With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies,
+	Which I have seen thee careful to observe,
+	Therefore I urge thy oath; for that I know
+	An idiot holds his bauble for a god
+	And keeps the oath which by that god he swears,
+	To that I'll urge him: therefore thou shalt vow
+	By that same god, what god soe'er it be,
+	That thou adorest and hast in reverence,
+	To save my boy, to nourish and bring him up;
+	Or else I will discover nought to thee.
+
+LUCIUS	Even by my god I swear to thee I will.
+
+AARON	First know thou, I begot him on the empress.
+
+LUCIUS	O most insatiate and luxurious woman!
+
+AARON	Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of charity
+	To that which thou shalt hear of me anon.
+	'Twas her two sons that murder'd Bassianus;
+	They cut thy sister's tongue and ravish'd her
+	And cut her hands and trimm'd her as thou saw'st.
+
+LUCIUS	O detestable villain! call'st thou that trimming?
+
+AARON	Why, she was wash'd and cut and trimm'd, and 'twas
+	Trim sport for them that had the doing of it.
+
+LUCIUS	O barbarous, beastly villains, like thyself!
+
+AARON	Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them:
+	That codding spirit had they from their mother,
+	As sure a card as ever won the set;
+	That bloody mind, I think, they learn'd of me,
+	As true a dog as ever fought at head.
+	Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth.
+	I train'd thy brethren to that guileful hole
+	Where the dead corpse of Bassianus lay:
+	I wrote the letter that thy father found
+	And hid the gold within the letter mention'd,
+	Confederate with the queen and her two sons:
+	And what not done, that thou hast cause to rue,
+	Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in it?
+	I play'd the cheater for thy father's hand,
+	And, when I had it, drew myself apart
+	And almost broke my heart with extreme laughter:
+	I pry'd me through the crevice of a wall
+	When, for his hand, he had his two sons' heads;
+	Beheld his tears, and laugh'd so heartily,
+	That both mine eyes were rainy like to his :
+	And when I told the empress of this sport,
+	She swooned almost at my pleasing tale,
+	And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses.
+
+First Goth	What, canst thou say all this, and never blush?
+
+AARON	Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.
+
+LUCIUS	Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?
+
+AARON	Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.
+	Even now I curse the day--and yet, I think,
+	Few come within the compass of my curse,--
+	Wherein I did not some notorious ill,
+	As kill a man, or else devise his death,
+	Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it,
+	Accuse some innocent and forswear myself,
+	Set deadly enmity between two friends,
+	Make poor men's cattle break their necks;
+	Set fire on barns and hay-stacks in the night,
+	And bid the owners quench them with their tears.
+	Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their graves,
+	And set them upright at their dear friends' doors,
+	Even when their sorrows almost were forgot;
+	And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
+	Have with my knife carved in Roman letters,
+	'Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead.'
+	Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things
+	As willingly as one would kill a fly,
+	And nothing grieves me heartily indeed
+	But that I cannot do ten thousand more.
+
+LUCIUS	Bring down the devil; for he must not die
+	So sweet a death as hanging presently.
+
+AARON	If there be devils, would I were a devil,
+	To live and burn in everlasting fire,
+	So I might have your company in hell,
+	But to torment you with my bitter tongue!
+
+LUCIUS	Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more.
+
+	[Enter a Goth]
+
+Third Goth	My lord, there is a messenger from Rome
+	Desires to be admitted to your presence.
+
+LUCIUS	Let him come near.
+
+	[Enter AEMILIUS]
+
+	Welcome, AEmilius	what's the news from Rome?
+
+AEMILIUS	Lord Lucius, and you princes of the Goths,
+	The Roman emperor greets you all by me;
+	And, for he understands you are in arms,
+	He craves a parley at your father's house,
+	Willing you to demand your hostages,
+	And they shall be immediately deliver'd.
+
+First Goth	What says our general?
+
+LUCIUS	AEmilius, let the emperor give his pledges
+	Unto my father and my uncle Marcus,
+	And we will come. March away.
+
+	[Exeunt]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE II	Rome. Before TITUS's house.
+
+
+	[Enter TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, and CHIRON, disguised]
+
+TAMORA	Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment,
+	I will encounter with Andronicus,
+	And say I am Revenge, sent from below
+	To join with him and right his heinous wrongs.
+	Knock at his study, where, they say, he keeps,
+	To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge;
+	Tell him Revenge is come to join with him,
+	And work confusion on his enemies.
+
+	[They knock]
+
+	[Enter TITUS, above]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Who doth molest my contemplation?
+	Is it your trick to make me ope the door,
+	That so my sad decrees may fly away,
+	And all my study be to no effect?
+	You are deceived: for what I mean to do
+	See here in bloody lines I have set down;
+	And what is written shall be executed.
+
+TAMORA	Titus, I am come to talk with thee.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	No, not a word; how can I grace my talk,
+	Wanting a hand to give it action?
+	Thou hast the odds of me; therefore no more.
+
+TAMORA	If thou didst know me, thou wouldest talk with me.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	I am not mad; I know thee well enough:
+	Witness this wretched stump, witness these crimson lines;
+	Witness these trenches made by grief and care,
+	Witness the tiring day and heavy night;
+	Witness all sorrow, that I know thee well
+	For our proud empress, mighty Tamora:
+	Is not thy coming for my other hand?
+
+TAMORA	Know, thou sad man, I am not Tamora;
+	She is thy enemy, and I thy friend:
+	I am Revenge: sent from the infernal kingdom,
+	To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind,
+	By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes.
+	Come down, and welcome me to this world's light;
+	Confer with me of murder and of death:
+	There's not a hollow cave or lurking-place,
+	No vast obscurity or misty vale,
+	Where bloody murder or detested rape
+	Can couch for fear, but I will find them out;
+	And in their ears tell them my dreadful name,
+	Revenge, which makes the foul offender quake.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Art thou Revenge? and art thou sent to me,
+	To be a torment to mine enemies?
+
+TAMORA	I am; therefore come down, and welcome me.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Do me some service, ere I come to thee.
+	Lo, by thy side where Rape and Murder stands;
+	Now give me some surance that thou art Revenge,
+	Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot-wheels;
+	And then I'll come and be thy waggoner,
+	And whirl along with thee about the globe.
+	Provide thee two proper palfreys, black as jet,
+	To hale thy vengeful waggon swift away,
+	And find out murderers in their guilty caves:
+	And when thy car is loaden with their heads,
+	I will dismount, and by the waggon-wheel
+	Trot, like a servile footman, all day long,
+	Even from Hyperion's rising in the east
+	Until his very downfall in the sea:
+	And day by day I'll do this heavy task,
+	So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there.
+
+TAMORA	These are my ministers, and come with me.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Are these thy ministers? what are they call'd?
+
+TAMORA	Rapine and Murder; therefore called so,
+	Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Good Lord, how like the empress' sons they are!
+	And you, the empress! but we worldly men
+	Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes.
+	O sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee;
+	And, if one arm's embracement will content thee,
+	I will embrace thee in it by and by.
+
+	[Exit above]
+
+TAMORA	This closing with him fits his lunacy
+	Whate'er I forge to feed his brain-sick fits,
+	Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches,
+	For now he firmly takes me for Revenge;
+	And, being credulous in this mad thought,
+	I'll make him send for Lucius his son;
+	And, whilst I at a banquet hold him sure,
+	I'll find some cunning practise out of hand,
+	To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths,
+	Or, at the least, make them his enemies.
+	See, here he comes, and I must ply my theme.
+
+	[Enter TITUS below]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee:
+	Welcome, dread Fury, to my woful house:
+	Rapine and Murder, you are welcome too.
+	How like the empress and her sons you are!
+	Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor:
+	Could not all hell afford you such a devil?
+	For well I wot the empress never wags
+	But in her company there is a Moor;
+	And, would you represent our queen aright,
+	It were convenient you had such a devil:
+	But welcome, as you are. What shall we do?
+
+TAMORA	What wouldst thou have us do, Andronicus?
+
+DEMETRIUS	Show me a murderer, I'll deal with him.
+
+CHIRON	Show me a villain that hath done a rape,
+	And I am sent to be revenged on him.
+
+TAMORA	Show me a thousand that have done thee wrong,
+	And I will be revenged on them all.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Look round about the wicked streets of Rome;
+	And when thou find'st a man that's like thyself.
+	Good Murder, stab him; he's a murderer.
+	Go thou with him; and when it is thy hap
+	To find another that is like to thee,
+	Good Rapine, stab him; he's a ravisher.
+	Go thou with them; and in the emperor's court
+	There is a queen, attended by a Moor;
+	Well mayst thou know her by thy own proportion,
+	for up and down she doth resemble thee:
+	I pray thee, do on them some violent death;
+	They have been violent to me and mine.
+
+TAMORA	Well hast thou lesson'd us; this shall we do.
+	But would it please thee, good Andronicus,
+	To send for Lucius, thy thrice-valiant son,
+	Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike Goths,
+	And bid him come and banquet at thy house;
+	When he is here, even at thy solemn feast,
+	I will bring in the empress and her sons,
+	The emperor himself and all thy foes;
+	And at thy mercy shalt they stoop and kneel,
+	And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart.
+	What says Andronicus to this device?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Marcus, my brother! 'tis sad Titus calls.
+
+	[Enter MARCUS]
+
+	Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius;
+	Thou shalt inquire him out among the Goths:
+	Bid him repair to me, and bring with him
+	Some of the chiefest princes of the Goths;
+	Bid him encamp his soldiers where they are:
+	Tell him the emperor and the empress too
+	Feast at my house, and he shall feast with them.
+	This do thou for my love; and so let him,
+	As he regards his aged father's life.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	This will I do, and soon return again.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+TAMORA	Now will I hence about thy business,
+	And take my ministers along with me.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me;
+	Or else I'll call my brother back again,
+	And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.
+
+TAMORA	[Aside to her sons]  What say you, boys? will you
+	bide with him,
+	Whiles I go tell my lord the emperor
+	How I have govern'd our determined jest?
+	Yield to his humour, smooth and speak him fair,
+	And tarry with him till I turn again.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	[Aside]  I know them all, though they suppose me mad,
+	And will o'erreach them in their own devices:
+	A pair of cursed hell-hounds and their dam!
+
+DEMETRIUS	Madam, depart at pleasure; leave us here.
+
+TAMORA	Farewell, Andronicus: Revenge now goes
+	To lay a complot to betray thy foes.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	I know thou dost; and, sweet Revenge, farewell.
+
+	[Exit TAMORA]
+
+CHIRON	Tell us, old man, how shall we be employ'd?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Tut, I have work enough for you to do.
+	Publius, come hither, Caius, and Valentine!
+
+	[Enter PUBLIUS and others]
+
+PUBLIUS	What is your will?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Know you these two?
+
+PUBLIUS	The empress' sons, I take them, Chiron and Demetrius.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Fie, Publius, fie! thou art too much deceived;
+	The one is Murder, Rape is the other's name;
+	And therefore bind them, gentle Publius.
+	Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them.
+	Oft have you heard me wish for such an hour,
+	And now I find it; therefore bind them sure,
+	And stop their mouths, if they begin to cry.
+
+	[Exit]
+
+	[PUBLIUS, &c. lay hold on CHIRON and DEMETRIUS]
+
+CHIRON	Villains, forbear! we are the empress' sons.
+
+PUBLIUS	And therefore do we what we are commanded.
+	Stop close their mouths, let them not speak a word.
+	Is he sure bound? look that you bind them fast.
+
+	[Re-enter TITUS, with LAVINIA; he bearing a knife,
+	and she a basin]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Come, come, Lavinia; look, thy foes are bound.
+	Sirs, stop their mouths, let them not speak to me;
+	But let them hear what fearful words I utter.
+	O villains, Chiron and Demetrius!
+	Here stands the spring whom you have stain'd with mud,
+	This goodly summer with your winter mix'd.
+	You kill'd her husband, and for that vile fault
+	Two of her brothers were condemn'd to death,
+	My hand cut off and made a merry jest;
+	Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dear
+	Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity,
+	Inhuman traitors, you constrain'd and forced.
+	What would you say, if I should let you speak?
+	Villains, for shame you could not beg for grace.
+	Hark, wretches! how I mean to martyr you.
+	This one hand yet is left to cut your throats,
+	Whilst that Lavinia 'tween her stumps doth hold
+	The basin that receives your guilty blood.
+	You know your mother means to feast with me,
+	And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad:
+	Hark, villains! I will grind your bones to dust
+	And with your blood and it I'll make a paste,
+	And of the paste a coffin I will rear
+	And make two pasties of your shameful heads,
+	And bid that strumpet, your unhallow'd dam,
+	Like to the earth swallow her own increase.
+	This is the feast that I have bid her to,
+	And this the banquet she shall surfeit on;
+	For worse than Philomel you used my daughter,
+	And worse than Progne I will be revenged:
+	And now prepare your throats. Lavinia, come,
+
+	[He cuts their throats]
+
+	Receive the blood: and when that they are dead,
+	Let me go grind their bones to powder small
+	And with this hateful liquor temper it;
+	And in that paste let their vile heads be baked.
+	Come, come, be every one officious
+	To make this banquet; which I wish may prove
+	More stern and bloody than the Centaurs' feast.
+	So, now bring them in, for I'll play the cook,
+	And see them ready 'gainst their mother comes.
+
+	[Exeunt, bearing the dead bodies]
+
+
+
+
+	TITUS ANDRONICUS
+
+
+ACT V
+
+
+
+SCENE III	Court of TITUS's house. A banquet set out.
+
+
+	[Enter LUCIUS, MARCUS, and Goths, with AARON prisoner]
+
+LUCIUS	Uncle Marcus, since it is my father's mind
+	That I repair to Rome, I am content.
+
+First Goth	And ours with thine, befall what fortune will.
+
+LUCIUS	Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor,
+	This ravenous tiger, this accursed devil;
+	Let him receive no sustenance, fetter him
+	Till he be brought unto the empress' face,
+	For testimony of her foul proceedings:
+	And see the ambush of our friends be strong;
+	I fear the emperor means no good to us.
+
+AARON	Some devil whisper curses in mine ear,
+	And prompt me, that my tongue may utter forth
+	The venomous malice of my swelling heart!
+
+LUCIUS	Away, inhuman dog! unhallow'd slave!
+	Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.
+
+	[Exeunt Goths, with AARON. Flourish within]
+
+	The trumpets show the emperor is at hand.
+
+	[Enter SATURNINUS and TAMORA, with AEMILIUS,
+	Tribunes, Senators, and others]
+
+SATURNINUS	What, hath the firmament more suns than one?
+
+LUCIUS	What boots it thee to call thyself a sun?
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Rome's emperor, and nephew, break the parle;
+	These quarrels must be quietly debated.
+	The feast is ready, which the careful Titus
+	Hath ordain'd to an honourable end,
+	For peace, for love, for league, and good to Rome:
+	Please you, therefore, draw nigh, and take your places.
+
+SATURNINUS	Marcus, we will.
+
+	[Hautboys sound. The Company sit down at table]
+
+	[Enter TITUS dressed like a Cook, LAVINIA veiled,
+	Young LUCIUS, and others. TITUS places the dishes
+	on the table]
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Welcome, my gracious lord; welcome, dread queen;
+	Welcome, ye warlike Goths; welcome, Lucius;
+	And welcome, all: although the cheer be poor,
+	'Twill fill your stomachs; please you eat of it.
+
+SATURNINUS	Why art thou thus attired, Andronicus?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Because I would be sure to have all well,
+	To entertain your highness and your empress.
+
+TAMORA	We are beholding to you, good Andronicus.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	An if your highness knew my heart, you were.
+	My lord the emperor, resolve me this:
+	Was it well done of rash Virginius
+	To slay his daughter with his own right hand,
+	Because she was enforced, stain'd, and deflower'd?
+
+SATURNINUS	It was, Andronicus.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Your reason, mighty lord?
+
+SATURNINUS	Because the girl should not survive her shame,
+	And by her presence still renew his sorrows.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	A reason mighty, strong, and effectual;
+	A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant,
+	For me, most wretched, to perform the like.
+	Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee;
+
+	[Kills LAVINIA]
+
+	And, with thy shame, thy father's sorrow die!
+
+SATURNINUS	What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Kill'd her, for whom my tears have made me blind.
+	I am as woful as Virginius was,
+	And have a thousand times more cause than he
+	To do this outrage: and it now is done.
+
+SATURNINUS	What, was she ravish'd? tell who did the deed.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Will't please you eat? will't please your
+	highness feed?
+
+TAMORA	Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Not I; 'twas Chiron and Demetrius:
+	They ravish'd her, and cut away her tongue;
+	And they, 'twas they, that did her all this wrong.
+
+SATURNINUS	Go fetch them hither to us presently.
+
+TITUS ANDRONICUS	Why, there they are both, baked in that pie;
+	Whereof their mother daintily hath fed,
+	Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred.
+	'Tis true, 'tis true; witness my knife's sharp point.
+
+	[Kills TAMORA]
+
+SATURNINUS	Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed!
+
+	[Kills TITUS]
+
+LUCIUS	Can the son's eye behold his father bleed?
+	There's meed for meed, death for a deadly deed!
+
+	[Kills SATURNINUS. A great tumult. LUCIUS, MARCUS,
+	and others go up into the balcony]
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	You sad-faced men, people and sons of Rome,
+	By uproar sever'd, like a flight of fowl
+	Scatter'd by winds and high tempestuous gusts,
+	O, let me teach you how to knit again
+	This scatter'd corn into one mutual sheaf,
+	These broken limbs again into one body;
+	Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself,
+	And she whom mighty kingdoms court'sy to,
+	Like a forlorn and desperate castaway,
+	Do shameful execution on herself.
+	But if my frosty signs and chaps of age,
+	Grave witnesses of true experience,
+	Cannot induce you to attend my words,
+
+	[To LUCIUS]
+
+	Speak, Rome's dear friend, as erst our ancestor,
+	When with his solemn tongue he did discourse
+	To love-sick Dido's sad attending ear
+	The story of that baleful burning night
+	When subtle Greeks surprised King Priam's Troy,
+	Tell us what Sinon hath bewitch'd our ears,
+	Or who hath brought the fatal engine in
+	That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.
+	My heart is not compact of flint nor steel;
+	Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,
+	But floods of tears will drown my oratory,
+	And break my utterance, even in the time
+	When it should move you to attend me most,
+	Lending your kind commiseration.
+	Here is a captain, let him tell the tale;
+	Your hearts will throb and weep to hear him speak.
+
+LUCIUS	Then, noble auditory, be it known to you,
+	That cursed Chiron and Demetrius
+	Were they that murdered our emperor's brother;
+	And they it were that ravished our sister:
+	For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded;
+	Our father's tears despised, and basely cozen'd
+	Of that true hand that fought Rome's quarrel out,
+	And sent her enemies unto the grave.
+	Lastly, myself unkindly banished,
+	The gates shut on me, and turn'd weeping out,
+	To beg relief among Rome's enemies:
+	Who drown'd their enmity in my true tears.
+	And oped their arms to embrace me as a friend.
+	I am the turned forth, be it known to you,
+	That have preserved her welfare in my blood;
+	And from her bosom took the enemy's point,
+	Sheathing the steel in my adventurous body.
+	Alas, you know I am no vaunter, I;
+	My scars can witness, dumb although they are,
+	That my report is just and full of truth.
+	But, soft! methinks I do digress too much,
+	Citing my worthless praise: O, pardon me;
+	For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Now is my turn to speak. Behold this child:
+
+	[Pointing to the Child in the arms of an Attendant]
+
+	Of this was Tamora delivered;
+	The issue of an irreligious Moor,
+	Chief architect and plotter of these woes:
+	The villain is alive in Titus' house,
+	And as he is, to witness this is true.
+	Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge
+	These wrongs, unspeakable, past patience,
+	Or more than any living man could bear.
+	Now you have heard the truth, what say you, Romans?
+	Have we done aught amiss,--show us wherein,
+	And, from the place where you behold us now,
+	The poor remainder of Andronici
+	Will, hand in hand, all headlong cast us down.
+	And on the ragged stones beat forth our brains,
+	And make a mutual closure of our house.
+	Speak, Romans, speak; and if you say we shall,
+	Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.
+
+AEMILIUS	Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome,
+	And bring our emperor gently in thy hand,
+	Lucius our emperor; for well I know
+	The common voice do cry it shall be so.
+
+All	Lucius, all hail, Rome's royal emperor!
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Go, go into old Titus' sorrowful house,
+
+	[To Attendants]
+
+	And hither hale that misbelieving Moor,
+	To be adjudged some direful slaughtering death,
+	As punishment for his most wicked life.
+
+	[Exeunt Attendants]
+
+	[LUCIUS, MARCUS, and the others descend]
+
+All	Lucius, all hail, Rome's gracious governor!
+
+LUCIUS	Thanks, gentle Romans: may I govern so,
+	To heal Rome's harms, and wipe away her woe!
+	But, gentle people, give me aim awhile,
+	For nature puts me to a heavy task:
+	Stand all aloof: but, uncle, draw you near,
+	To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk.
+	O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips,
+
+	[Kissing TITUS]
+
+	These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd face,
+	The last true duties of thy noble son!
+
+MARCUS ANDRONICUS	Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss,
+	Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips:
+	O were the sum of these that I should pay
+	Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them!
+
+LUCIUS	Come hither, boy; come, come, and learn of us
+	To melt in showers: thy grandsire loved thee well:
+	Many a time he danced thee on his knee,
+	Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow:
+	Many a matter hath he told to thee,
+	Meet and agreeing with thine infancy;
+	In that respect, then, like a loving child,
+	Shed yet some small drops from thy tender spring,
+	Because kind nature doth require it so:
+	Friends should associate friends in grief and woe:
+	Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave;
+	Do him that kindness, and take leave of him.
+
+Young LUCIUS	O grandsire, grandsire! even with all my heart
+	Would I were dead, so you did live again!
+	O Lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping;
+	My tears will choke me, if I ope my mouth.
+
+	[Re-enter Attendants with AARON]
+
+AEMILIUS	You sad Andronici, have done with woes:
+	Give sentence on this execrable wretch,
+	That hath been breeder of these dire events.
+
+LUCIUS	Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish him;
+	There let him stand, and rave, and cry for food;
+	If any one relieves or pities him,
+	For the offence he dies. This is our doom:
+	Some stay to see him fasten'd in the earth.
+
+AARON	O, why should wrath be mute, and fury dumb?
+	I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
+	I should repent the evils I have done:
+	Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
+	Would I perform, if I might have my will;
+	If one good deed in all my life I did,
+	I do repent it from my very soul.
+
+LUCIUS	Some loving friends convey the emperor hence,
+	And give him burial in his father's grave:
+	My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
+	Be closed in our household's monument.
+	As for that heinous tiger, Tamora,
+	No funeral rite, nor man m mourning weeds,
+	No mournful bell shall ring her burial;
+	But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey:
+	Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity;
+	And, being so, shall have like want of pity.
+	See justice done on Aaron, that damn'd Moor,
+	By whom our heavy haps had their beginning:
+	Then, afterwards, to order well the state,
+	That like events may ne'er it ruinate.
+
+	[Exeunt]
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/zad1.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/zad1.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..70c7ceb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/ask21_lista_13/zad1.c
@@ -0,0 +1,16 @@
+void merge1(long src1[], long src2[], long dest[], long n) {
+  long i1 = 0, i2 = 0;
+  while (i1 < n && i2 < n)
+    *dest++ = src1[i1] < src2[i2] ? src2[i1++] : src2[i2++];
+}
+
+void merge2(long src1[], long src2[], long dest[], long n) {
+  long i1 = 0, i2 = 0;
+  while (i1 < n && i2 < n) {
+    int i1_c = i1, i2_c = i2;
+    int x = (src1[i1] < src2[i2]);
+    *dest++ = x * src2[i1] + (x^1) * src2[i2];
+    i1 += x;
+    i2 += x^1;
+  }
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista13/sum.txt b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/sum.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista13/sum.txt
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista2/ask21_lista_2.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/lista2/ask21_lista_2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e6df9d7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista2/ask21_lista_2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista2/pom.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista2/pom.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..87d542d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista2/pom.c
@@ -0,0 +1,38 @@
+#include <stdint.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <limits.h>
+
+char* utb(uint32_t x) {
+  static char rep[36];
+  int cnt = 34;
+  for (int i = 0; i < 32; i += 1) {
+    if (i > 0 && i % 8 == 0) {
+      rep[cnt] = ' ';
+      cnt -= 1;
+    }
+    rep[cnt] = (x & 1) + '0';
+    cnt -= 1;
+    x >>= 1;
+  }
+  rep[35] = '\0';
+  return rep;
+}
+
+void pb(uint32_t x) {
+  printf("%s    : %d\n", utb(x), x);
+}
+
+// int main() {
+//     /* Zadanie 1 */
+
+//     int32_t x;
+//     x = (1<<31);
+//     printf("%d, %d, %d %d\n", x, (x > 0), x-1, (x - 1 < 0));
+// }
+
+int main() {
+    /* Zadanie 1 */
+    int32_t x;
+    scanf("%d", &x);
+    printf("%d %d\n", x*x, INT_MIN);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista3/ask21_lista_3.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/lista3/ask21_lista_3.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d83e9f8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista3/ask21_lista_3.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista4/ask21_lista_4.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/lista4/ask21_lista_4.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..87e0e4a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista4/ask21_lista_4.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista5/ask21_lista_5.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/ask21_lista_5.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b8c1977
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/ask21_lista_5.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista5/puzzle3.s b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/puzzle3.s
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f625752
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/puzzle3.s
@@ -0,0 +1,19 @@
+        .global puzzle3
+
+        .text           
+puzzle3:                                # rdi: n; rsi: d        
+        movl    %edi, %edi              # zeruje 32 starsze bity rdi
+        salq    $32, %rsi               # rsi <<= 32
+        movl    $32, %edx               # edx := 32
+        movl    $0x80000000, %ecx       # ecx := MIN_INT
+        xorl    %eax, %eax              # eax := 0
+.L3:    addq    %rdi, %rdi              # rdi *= 2
+        movq    %rdi, %r8               # r8 := rdi 
+        subq    %rsi, %r8               # r8 -= rsi
+        js      .L2                     # if r8 < 0 then jump to L2
+        orl     %ecx, %eax              # eax |= ecx
+        movq    %r8, %rdi               # rdi := r8
+.L2:    shrl    %ecx                    # ecx >>= 1
+        decl    %edx                    # edx--
+        jne     .L3                     # if (edx != 0) then jump to L3 
+        ret
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista5/puzzle4.s b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/puzzle4.s
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..16ca386
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/puzzle4.s
@@ -0,0 +1,24 @@
+.global puzzle4
+
+.text
+puzzle4:                                # argumenty: rdi - long*, rsi - long, rdx - uint64, rcx - uint64 
+        movq    %rcx, %rax              # rax := rcx
+        subq    %rdx, %rax              # rax -= rdx
+        shrq    %rax                    # rax >>= 1;    // ale logiczne!
+        addq    %rdx, %rax              # rax += rdx;
+        cmpq    %rdx, %rcx              # if rcx < rdx
+        jb      .L5                     # then jump to L5
+        movq    (%rdi,%rax,8), %r8      # r8 = *(rdi + 8*rax)
+        cmpq    %rsi, %r8               # if rsi == r8
+        je      .L10                    # then jump to L10
+        cmpq    %rsi, %r8               # if (r8 - rsi < 0) <=> r8 < rsi
+        jg      .L11                    # then jump to L11        
+        leaq    1(%rax), %rdx           # rdx := rax + 1
+        call    puzzle4                 # call recursively puzzle4
+.L10:   ret                             # return rax
+.L11:   leaq    -1(%rax), %rcx          # rcx := rax - 1
+        call    puzzle4                 # call recursively puzzle4
+        ret                             # return rax
+.L5:    movl    $-1, %eax               # eax := -1
+        ret                             # return rax
+        
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista5/puzzle5.s b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/puzzle5.s
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..02c3aea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/puzzle5.s
@@ -0,0 +1,24 @@
+400590 <switch_prob>:
+400590: 48 83                       subq    $0x3c, %rsi         # rsi -= 0x3c
+400594: 48 83 fe 0                  cmpq    $0x5,  %rsi         # if rsi > 0x5
+400598: 77 29                       ja      *0x4005c3           # then jump to line 16
+40059a: ff 24 f5 f8 06 40 00        jmpq    *0x4006f8(,%rsi,8)  # jump to 19 + rsi
+4005a1: 48 8d 04 fd 00 00 00 00     lea     0x0(,%rdi,8),%rax   # rax := rdi * 8
+4005a9: c3                          retq                        # return rax
+4005aa: 48 89 f8                    movq    %rdi,%rax           # rax := rdi
+4005ad: 48 c1 f8 03                 sarq    $0x3,%rax           # rax >>= 3 (arithmetic)
+4005b1: c3                          retq                        # return rax
+4005b2: 48 89 f8                    movq    %rdi,%rax           # rax := rdi
+4005b5: 48 c1 e0 04                 shlq    $0x4,%rax           # rax <<= 4 (logic)
+4005b9: 48 29 f8                    subq    %rdi,%rax           # rax -= rdi
+4005bc: 48 89 c7                    movq    %rax,%rdi           # rdi := rax
+4005bf: 48 0f af ff                 imulq   %rdi,%rdi           # rdi *= rdi
+4005c3: 48 8d 47 4b                 leaq    0x4b(%rdi),%rax     # rax := 0x4b + rdi
+4005c7: c3                          retq                        # return rax
+
+0x4006f8: 0x4005a1  # line 6
+0x400700: 0x4005a1  # line 6
+0x400708: 0x4005b2  # line 11
+0x400710: 0x4005c3  # line 16
+0x400718: 0x4005aa  # line 8
+0x400720: 0x4005bf  # line 15
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad1.asm b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad1.asm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..22aef29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad1.asm
@@ -0,0 +1,15 @@
+puzzle: testl   %esi, %esi
+        je      .L4             ; jesli esi == 0, skocz do L4
+        xorl    %edx, %edx      ; edx := 0
+        xorl    %eax, %eax      ; eax := 0
+.L3:    movl    %edi, %ecx      ; ecx := edi
+        andl    $1,   %ecx      ; ecx &= 1
+        addl    %ecx, %eax      ; eax += eax
+        sarq    %rdi            ; rdi >>= 1
+        incl    %edx,           ; edx++
+        cmpl    %edx, %esi      ; edx - esi != 0? <=> edx != esi
+        jne     .L3             ; jesli tak, skocz do L3
+        ret 
+.L4     movl    %esi, %eax      ; return esi
+        ret
+
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad1.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad1.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9379bb2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad1.c
@@ -0,0 +1,25 @@
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+
+int puzzle(long x /* rdi */ , unsigned n /* rsi */) {
+    if (n == 0) {
+        return n;
+    }
+    int t = 0;              // edx := 0
+    int result = 0;         // eax := 0
+    do {
+        int m = x & 0xffffffff;     // ecx := edi
+        m &= 1;
+        result += m;
+        x >>= 1;
+        t++;
+    } while (t != n);
+    return result;               // ????
+}
+
+int main() {
+    long x;
+    unsigned n;
+    scanf("%ld%u", &x, &n);
+    return puzzle(x, n);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad1.s b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad1.s
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b935b9e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad1.s
@@ -0,0 +1,98 @@
+	.file	"zad1.c"
+	.text
+	.p2align 4
+	.globl	puzzle
+	.type	puzzle, @function
+puzzle:
+.LFB23:
+	.cfi_startproc
+	endbr64
+	xorl	%r8d, %r8d
+	testl	%esi, %esi
+	je	.L1
+	xorl	%eax, %eax
+	.p2align 4,,10
+	.p2align 3
+.L3:
+	movl	%edi, %edx
+	addl	$1, %eax
+	sarq	%rdi
+	andl	$1, %edx
+	addl	%edx, %r8d
+	cmpl	%esi, %eax
+	jne	.L3
+.L1:
+	movl	%r8d, %eax
+	ret
+	.cfi_endproc
+.LFE23:
+	.size	puzzle, .-puzzle
+	.section	.rodata.str1.1,"aMS",@progbits,1
+.LC0:
+	.string	"%ld%u"
+	.section	.text.startup,"ax",@progbits
+	.p2align 4
+	.globl	main
+	.type	main, @function
+main:
+.LFB24:
+	.cfi_startproc
+	endbr64
+	subq	$40, %rsp
+	.cfi_def_cfa_offset 48
+	leaq	.LC0(%rip), %rdi
+	movq	%fs:40, %rax
+	movq	%rax, 24(%rsp)
+	xorl	%eax, %eax
+	leaq	12(%rsp), %rdx
+	leaq	16(%rsp), %rsi
+	call	__isoc99_scanf@PLT
+	movl	12(%rsp), %ecx
+	movq	16(%rsp), %rax
+	xorl	%r8d, %r8d
+	testl	%ecx, %ecx
+	je	.L8
+	xorl	%edx, %edx
+	.p2align 4,,10
+	.p2align 3
+.L10:
+	movl	%eax, %esi
+	addl	$1, %edx
+	sarq	%rax
+	andl	$1, %esi
+	addl	%esi, %r8d
+	cmpl	%ecx, %edx
+	jne	.L10
+.L8:
+	movq	24(%rsp), %rax
+	xorq	%fs:40, %rax
+	jne	.L16
+	movl	%r8d, %eax
+	addq	$40, %rsp
+	.cfi_remember_state
+	.cfi_def_cfa_offset 8
+	ret
+.L16:
+	.cfi_restore_state
+	call	__stack_chk_fail@PLT
+	.cfi_endproc
+.LFE24:
+	.size	main, .-main
+	.ident	"GCC: (Ubuntu 9.3.0-17ubuntu1~20.04) 9.3.0"
+	.section	.note.GNU-stack,"",@progbits
+	.section	.note.gnu.property,"a"
+	.align 8
+	.long	 1f - 0f
+	.long	 4f - 1f
+	.long	 5
+0:
+	.string	 "GNU"
+1:
+	.align 8
+	.long	 0xc0000002
+	.long	 3f - 2f
+2:
+	.long	 0x3
+3:
+	.align 8
+4:
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad2.asm b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad2.asm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7fe4364
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad2.asm
@@ -0,0 +1,15 @@
+puzzle2:
+        movq    %rdi, %rax      ; rax := rdi
+.L3:    movb    (%rax), %r9b    ; r9b := *rax
+        leaq    1(%rax), %r8    ; r8  := rax + 1
+        movq    %rsi, %rdx    ; rdx := *rsi
+.L2:    movb    (%rdx), %cl     ; cl := *rdx
+        incq    %rdx            ; rdx++
+        testb   %cl, %cl        ; if (cl == 0)
+        je      .L4             ; then jump to L4        
+        cmpb    %cl, %r9b       ; if (cl != r9b)
+        jne     .L2             ; then jump to L2
+        movq    %r8, %rax       ; rax := r8
+        jmp     .L3             ; jump to L3
+.L4     subq    %rdi, %rax      ; rax -= rdi
+        ret
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad2.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad2.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ab9cb54
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad2.c
@@ -0,0 +1,44 @@
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+
+long puzzle2(char *rdi /* rdi */, char *rsi /* rsi */) {
+    char *rax = rdi;
+L3:
+    char r9b = *rax;
+    char *r8 = rax + 1;
+    char *rdx = rsi;
+L2:
+        char cl = *rdx;
+        rdx++;
+        if (cl == 0) {
+            goto L4;
+        }
+        if (cl != r9b) {
+            goto L2;
+        }
+        rax = r8;
+        goto L3;
+L4:
+    return rax - rdi;
+}
+
+
+// funkcja sprawdza jaka jest pierwsza litera z s która nie występuje w d
+// jesli wszystkie występują, to zwróci długość s.
+long puzzle2_decoded(char *s /* rdi */, char *d /* rsi */) {
+    for (char *result = s ; ; result++) {
+        char first = *result;
+        char *crawl = d;
+        for (char *crawl = d; *crawl != first; crawl++) {
+            if (*crawl == 0) {
+                return result - s;
+            }
+        }
+    }
+}
+
+
+
+int main() {
+
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad3.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad3.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1ce9067
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad3.c
@@ -0,0 +1,60 @@
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+
+uint32_t puzzle3(uint32_t n, uint32_t d);
+
+// uint32_t divv(uint32_t edi, uint32_t esi) {
+//     uint64_t rdi = edi;
+//     uint64_t rsi = esi;
+//     rsi <<= 32;
+//     uint8_t edx = 32;
+//     uint32_t ecx = 0x80000000;
+//     uint32_t eax = 0;
+// L3:
+//     rdi += rdi;
+//     int64_t r8 = rdi;
+//     r8 -= rsi;
+//     if (r8 < 0) {
+//         goto L2;
+//     }
+//     eax |= ecx;
+//     rdi = r8;
+// L2:
+//     ecx >>= 1;
+//     edx--;
+//     if (edx != 0) {
+//         goto L3;
+//     }
+//     return eax;
+// }
+
+uint32_t decoded(uint32_t n, uint32_t d) {
+    uint64_t N = n;
+    uint64_t D = (uint64_t)d << 32;
+
+    uint32_t bit = 0x80000000;
+    uint32_t result = 0;
+    for (uint32_t edx = 32; edx > 0; edx--) {
+        N += N;
+        if ((int64_t)(N - D) >= 0) {
+            result |= bit;
+            N -= D;
+        }
+        bit >>= 1;
+    }
+    return result;
+}
+
+int main() {
+    for (uint32_t n=0; n <= 1000; ++n) {
+        for (uint32_t d=1; d <= 1000; ++d) {
+            if (puzzle3(n,d) != decoded(n, d)) {
+                printf("%d %d\n", n, d);
+                printf("%u %u\n", puzzle3(n, d), decoded(n, d));
+                return 0;
+            }
+        }
+    }
+    printf("%d\n", puzzle3(1000000000, 2));
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad4.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad4.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a6927fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad4.c
@@ -0,0 +1,66 @@
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+
+int puzzle4(long *a, long v, uint64_t s, uint64_t e);
+
+long tab[100];
+
+int assembly_like(long *rdi, long rsi, uint64_t rdx, uint64_t rcx) {
+    uint64_t rax = rcx;
+    rax -= rdx;
+    rax >>= 1;
+    rax += rdx;
+    if (rcx < rdx) {
+        goto L5;
+    }
+    long r8 = *(rdi + rax*8);
+    if (rsi == r8) {
+        goto L10;
+    } 
+    if (rsi > r8) {
+        goto L11;
+    }
+    rdx = rax + 1;
+    assembly_like(rdi, rsi, rdx, rcx);
+L10:
+    return (int)rax;
+L11:
+    rcx = rax - 1;
+    assembly_like(rdi, rsi, rdx, rcx);
+    return (int)rax;
+L5:
+    return -1;
+}
+
+
+// binsearch :)
+int decode(long *a, long v, uint64_t s, uint64_t e) {
+    int result = (e + s) / 2;
+    if (e < s) {
+        return -1;
+    }
+    long val = a[result];
+    if (v == val) {
+        return result;
+    } 
+    if (v < val) {
+        e = result - 1;
+    }
+    else {
+        s = result + 1;
+    }
+    return decode(a, v, s, e);
+}
+
+int main() {
+    uint64_t n;
+    long v;
+    scanf("%ld %ld", &n, &v);
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+        scanf("%ld", &tab[i]);
+    }
+    printf("%d\n", puzzle4(tab, v, 0, n-1));
+    printf("%d\n", decode(tab, v, 0, n-1));
+
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad5.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad5.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c1fe957
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista5/zad5.c
@@ -0,0 +1,54 @@
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+
+long switch_prob(long rdi, long rsi) {
+    static void *array[] = { &&L1, &&L1, &&L2, &&L3, &&L4, &&L5 };
+    long rax;
+    rsi -= 0x3c;
+    if (rsi > 0x5) {
+        goto L3;
+    }
+    goto *array[rsi];
+L1:
+    rax = rdi * 8;
+    return rax;
+L4:
+    rax = rdi;
+    rax >>= 3;
+    retun rax;
+L2:
+    rax = rdi;
+    rax <<= 4;
+    rax -= rdi;
+    rdi = rax;
+L5:
+    rdi *= rdi;
+L3:
+    rax = 0x4b + rdi;
+    return rax;
+}
+
+long decode(long x, long n) {
+    long result;
+    n -= 0x3c;
+    switch (n)
+    {
+    case 0:
+    case 1:
+        return x + 8;
+    case 4:
+        return x >> 3;
+    case 2:
+        result = (x << 4) - x;
+        x = result;
+    case 5:
+        x *= x;
+    case 3:
+    default:
+        return 0x4b + x;    
+    }
+}
+
+int main() {
+    
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6a18d20
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle.c
@@ -0,0 +1,28 @@
+```c=
+       0:   55 	                                pushq   %rbp
+       1:   48 89 e5 	                        movq    %rsp, %rbp
+       4:   48 83 ec 10 	                    subq    $16, %rsp         
+       8:   48 89 e0 	                        movq    %rsp, %rax        #wsk stosu to rax
+       b:   48 8d 0c fd 0f 00 00 00 	        leaq    15(,%rdi,8), %rcx #n * rozmiar longa + 15 do rcx (+15 to kwestia wyrównania/sufit)
+      13:   48 83 e1 f0 	                    andq    $-16, %rcx        #zerujemy ostatnie 4 bity
+      17:   48 29 c8 	                        subq    %rcx, %rax        #oblicz nowy wskaźnik stosu
+      1a:   48 89 c4 	                        movq    %rax, %rsp        #nowy wskaźnik wrzuć do rsp
+      1d:   48 8d 4d f8 	                    leaq    -8(%rbp), %rcx
+      21:   48 89 4c f8 f8 	                    movq    %rcx, -8(%rax,%rdi,8)
+      26:   48 c7 45 f8 00 00 00 00 	        movq    $0, -8(%rbp)
+      2e:   48 85 ff 	                        testq   %rdi, %rdi
+      31:   7e 1d 	                            jle	29 <_aframe+0x50>
+      33:   31 c9 	                            xorl    %ecx, %ecx
+      35:   66 2e 0f 1f 84 00 00 00 00 00       nopw    %cs:(%rax,%rax)
+      3f:   90                                  nop
+      40:   48 89 14 c8                         movq    %rdx, (%rax,%rcx,8)
+      44:   48 ff c1                            incq    %rcx
+      47:   48 39 cf                            cmpq    %rcx, %rdi
+      4a:   75 f4                               jne -12 <_aframe+0x40>
+      4c:   48 89 7d f8                         movq    %rdi, -8(%rbp)
+      50:   48 8b 04 f0                         movq    (%rax,%rsi,8), %rax
+      54:   48 8b 00                            movq    (%rax), %rax
+      57:   48 89 ec                            movq    %rbp, %rsp            #powrót do poprzedniej ramki
+      5a:   5d                                  popq    %rbp                  #wrzucenie do rbp poprzedniego adresu
+      5b:   c3                                  retq    
+```
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle.s b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle.s
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3a39398
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle.s
@@ -0,0 +1,22 @@
+        .globl  puzzle
+	
+	.text
+puzzle:
+        push %rbp               # adres koncu ramki, callee-saved
+        xorl %eax, %eax         # zeruje %rax
+        mov %rsi, %rbp          # rbp := rsi, czyli rbp := p  
+        push %rbx               # rbx na stos, callee-saved
+        mov %rdi, %rbx          # rbx := rdi, czyli rbx := n
+        sub $24, %rsp           # rsp -= 24, czyli przesun rsp o 3 bajty w dół
+        test %rdi, %rdi         # rdi == 0?, czyli n == 0?
+        jle .L1                 # jesli tak, skocz do L1
+        lea 8(%rsp), %rsi       # w p.w. rsi := rsp + 8
+        lea (%rdi,%rdi), %rdi   # rdi := 2*rdi
+        call puzzle             # wywolanie rekurencyjne puzzle
+        add 8(%rsp), %rax       # rax := rax + *(rsp + 8)
+        add %rax, %rbx          # rbx := rbx + rax
+.L1:    mov %rbx, (%rbp)        # *rbp := rbx, czyli *p := rbx
+        add $24, %rsp           # rsp := rsp + 24 (przesun adres stacka o 3 bajty)
+        pop %rbx                # przywracamy rbx
+        pop %rbp                # przywracamy rbp
+    ret
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle7.s b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle7.s
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6d26961
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle7.s
@@ -0,0 +1,29 @@
+        .global puzzle7
+
+        .text
+puzzle7:
+        movq %rsi, -40(%rsp)
+        movq %rdx, -32(%rsp)
+        movq %rcx, -24(%rsp)
+        movq %r8, -16(%rsp)
+        movq %r9, -8(%rsp)
+        movl $8, -72(%rsp)
+        leaq 8(%rsp), %rax
+        movq %rax, -64(%rsp)
+        leaq -48(%rsp), %rax
+        movq %rax, -56(%rsp)
+        movl $0, %eax
+        jmp .L2
+.L3:    movq -64(%rsp), %rdx
+        leaq 8(%rdx), %rcx
+        movq %rcx, -64(%rsp)
+.L4:    addq (%rdx), %rax
+.L2:    subq $1, %rdi
+        js .L6
+        cmpl $47, -72(%rsp)
+        ja .L3
+        movl -72(%rsp), %edx
+        addq -56(%rsp), %rdx
+        addl $8, -72(%rsp)
+        jmp .L4
+.L6:    ret
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle8.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle8.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4d65f9d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle8.c
@@ -0,0 +1,25 @@
+#include <limits.h>
+
+struct T {
+    long min;
+    long max;
+    long mean;
+};
+
+struct T puzzle8(long *a, long n);
+
+struct T decode(long *a, long n) {
+    long maks = LONG_MIN;
+    long mini = LONG_MAX;
+    long sum = 0;
+    for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+        if (maks < a[i]) maks = a[i];
+        if (mini > a[i]) mini = a[i];
+        sum += a[i]; 
+    }
+    struct T ret;
+    ret.min = mini;
+    ret.max = maks;
+    ret.mean = sum / n;
+    return ret;
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle8.s b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle8.s
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cc3805d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/puzzle8.s
@@ -0,0 +1,30 @@
+# rdi - adres zwracanej struktury (niejawnie)
+# rsi - *a
+# rdx - n
+
+    .global puzzle8
+
+    .text
+puzzle8:
+        movq %rdx, %r11             # r11 := n
+        xorl %r10d, %r10d           # r10 := 0
+        xorl %eax, %eax             # rax := 0
+        movq $LONG_MIN, %r8         # r8 := 0x800...
+        movq $LONG_MAX, %r9         # r9 := 0x7ff...
+.L2:    cmpq %r11, %r10             # if n <= r10
+        jge .L5                     # then jump to L5, else
+        movq (%rsi,%r10,8), %rcx    # rcx := a[r10]
+        cmpq %rcx, %r9              # if a[r10] < r9
+        cmovg %rcx, %r9             # then r9 = a[r10]
+        cmpq %rcx, %r8              # if a[r10] > r8
+        cmovl %rcx, %r8             # then r8 = a[r10]
+        addq %rcx, %rax             # rax += a[r10]
+        incq %r10                   # r10++
+        jmp .L2
+.L5:    cqto                        # jeśli rax < 0 to niech rdx zaplonie
+        movq %r9, (%rdi)            # rdi->0 := r9
+        idivq %r11                  # podziel rax przez r11, efektywnie rax /= r11
+        movq %r8, 8(%rdi)           # rdi->8 := r8
+        movq %rax, 16(%rdi)         # rdi->16 := rax
+        movq %rdi, %rax             # rax := rdi
+    ret
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista6/test.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/test.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8a84ac2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/test.c
@@ -0,0 +1,9 @@
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+
+int main() {
+    int32_t x = 0xc0000000;
+    int32_t y = x + x;
+
+    printf("%d, %d\n", x, y);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista6/zad7.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/zad7.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9072504
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista6/zad7.c
@@ -0,0 +1,18 @@
+#include <stdarg.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+
+int wypisuj(int cnt, ...) {
+    va_list v;
+    va_start(v, cnt);
+    int sum = 0;
+    for (int i = 0; i < cnt; i++) {
+        sum += va_arg(v, int);
+    }
+    return sum;
+}
+
+int puzzle7(int cnt, ...);
+
+int main() {
+    printf("%d\n", puzzle7(10, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10));
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista7/eval.s b/semestr-4/ask/lista7/eval.s
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f7340a0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista7/eval.s
@@ -0,0 +1,18 @@
+        .global eval
+
+        .text
+eval:
+        movq %rdi, %rax
+        movq 16(%rsp), %rcx
+        movq 24(%rsp), %rdx
+        movq (%rdx), %rsi
+        movq %rcx, %rdx
+        imulq %rsi, %rdx
+        movq %rdx, (%rdi)
+        movq 8(%rsp), %rdx
+        movq %rdx, %rdi
+        subq %rsi, %rdi
+        movq %rdi, 8(%rax)
+        subq %rcx, %rdx
+        movq %rdx, 16(%rax)
+        ret
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista7/wrap.s b/semestr-4/ask/lista7/wrap.s
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f01dfc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista7/wrap.s
@@ -0,0 +1,18 @@
+        .global wrap
+
+        .text
+wrap:
+        subq $72, %rsp
+        movq %rdx, (%rsp)
+        movq %rsp, %rdx
+        leaq 8(%rsp), %rax
+        pushq %rdx
+        pushq %rsi
+        pushq %rdi
+        movq %rax, %rdi
+        call eval
+        movq 40(%rsp), %rax
+        addq 32(%rsp), %rax
+        imulq 48(%rsp), %rax
+        addq $96, %rsp
+        ret
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista7/zad5.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista7/zad5.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d65cb4f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista7/zad5.c
@@ -0,0 +1,38 @@
+#include <stdio.h>
+
+typedef struct A {
+  long u[2];
+  long *v;
+} SA;
+
+typedef struct B {
+  long p[2];
+  long q;
+} SB;
+
+SB eval(SA s);
+long wrap(long x, long y, long z);
+
+SB eval_decoded(SA a) {
+  SB ret;
+  ret.p[0] = a.u[1] * (*a.v);
+  ret.p[1] = a.u[0] - (*a.v);
+  ret.q = a.u[0] - a.u[1];
+  return ret;
+}
+
+long wrap_decoded(long x, long y, long z) {
+  SA a;
+  a.v = &z;
+  a.u[0] = x;
+  a.u[1] = y;
+  SB b = eval_decoded(a);
+  long result = (b.p[1] + b.p[0]) * b.q;
+  return result;
+}
+
+int main() {
+  printf("%ld\n", wrap(15, 16, 17));
+  printf("%ld\n", wrap_decoded(15, 16, 17));
+  return 0;
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista7/zad5.s b/semestr-4/ask/lista7/zad5.s
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista7/zad5.s
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista7/zad7.cpp b/semestr-4/ask/lista7/zad7.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..073224f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista7/zad7.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,19 @@
+struct Base {
+  Base(int n) : data(n) {}
+  int data;
+  virtual int doit(int n) { return n - data; }
+};
+struct Derived : Base {
+  Derived(int n) : Base(n + 1) {}
+  int doit(int n) { return n * data; }
+};
+
+int doit(Base *bp) {
+  return bp->doit(1);
+}
+
+int main(int argc, char *argv[]) {
+  Base b = Base(10);
+  Derived d = Derived(20);
+  return doit(&b) + doit(&d);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista7/zad7.ll b/semestr-4/ask/lista7/zad7.ll
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a99e8d8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista7/zad7.ll
@@ -0,0 +1,174 @@
+; ModuleID = 'zad7.cpp'
+source_filename = "zad7.cpp"
+target datalayout = "e-m:e-p270:32:32-p271:32:32-p272:64:64-i64:64-f80:128-n8:16:32:64-S128"
+target triple = "x86_64-pc-linux-gnu"
+
+%struct.Base = type <{ i32 (...)**, i32, [4 x i8] }>
+%struct.Derived = type { %struct.Base.base, [4 x i8] }
+%struct.Base.base = type <{ i32 (...)**, i32 }>
+
+$_ZN4BaseC1Ei = comdat any
+
+$_ZN7DerivedC1Ei = comdat any
+
+$_ZN4BaseC2Ei = comdat any
+
+$_ZN4Base4doitEi = comdat any
+
+$_ZN7DerivedC2Ei = comdat any
+
+$_ZN7Derived4doitEi = comdat any
+
+$_ZTV4Base = comdat any
+
+$_ZTS4Base = comdat any
+
+$_ZTI4Base = comdat any
+
+$_ZTV7Derived = comdat any
+
+$_ZTS7Derived = comdat any
+
+$_ZTI7Derived = comdat any
+
+@_ZTV4Base = linkonce_odr unnamed_addr constant { [3 x i8*] } { [3 x i8*] [i8* null, i8* bitcast ({ i8*, i8* }* @_ZTI4Base to i8*), i8* bitcast (i32 (%struct.Base*, i32)* @_ZN4Base4doitEi to i8*)] }, comdat, align 8
+@_ZTVN10__cxxabiv117__class_type_infoE = external global i8*
+@_ZTS4Base = linkonce_odr constant [6 x i8] c"4Base\00", comdat, align 1
+@_ZTI4Base = linkonce_odr constant { i8*, i8* } { i8* bitcast (i8** getelementptr inbounds (i8*, i8** @_ZTVN10__cxxabiv117__class_type_infoE, i64 2) to i8*), i8* getelementptr inbounds ([6 x i8], [6 x i8]* @_ZTS4Base, i32 0, i32 0) }, comdat, align 8
+@_ZTV7Derived = linkonce_odr unnamed_addr constant { [3 x i8*] } { [3 x i8*] [i8* null, i8* bitcast ({ i8*, i8*, i8* }* @_ZTI7Derived to i8*), i8* bitcast (i32 (%struct.Derived*, i32)* @_ZN7Derived4doitEi to i8*)] }, comdat, align 8
+@_ZTVN10__cxxabiv120__si_class_type_infoE = external global i8*
+@_ZTS7Derived = linkonce_odr constant [9 x i8] c"7Derived\00", comdat, align 1
+@_ZTI7Derived = linkonce_odr constant { i8*, i8*, i8* } { i8* bitcast (i8** getelementptr inbounds (i8*, i8** @_ZTVN10__cxxabiv120__si_class_type_infoE, i64 2) to i8*), i8* getelementptr inbounds ([9 x i8], [9 x i8]* @_ZTS7Derived, i32 0, i32 0), i8* bitcast ({ i8*, i8* }* @_ZTI4Base to i8*) }, comdat, align 8
+
+; Function Attrs: noinline nounwind optnone
+define i32 @_Z4doitP4Base(%struct.Base* %bp) #0 {
+entry:
+  %bp.addr = alloca %struct.Base*, align 8
+  store %struct.Base* %bp, %struct.Base** %bp.addr, align 8
+  %0 = load %struct.Base*, %struct.Base** %bp.addr, align 8
+  %1 = bitcast %struct.Base* %0 to i32 (%struct.Base*, i32)***
+  %vtable = load i32 (%struct.Base*, i32)**, i32 (%struct.Base*, i32)*** %1, align 8
+  %vfn = getelementptr inbounds i32 (%struct.Base*, i32)*, i32 (%struct.Base*, i32)** %vtable, i64 0
+  %2 = load i32 (%struct.Base*, i32)*, i32 (%struct.Base*, i32)** %vfn, align 8
+  %call = call i32 %2(%struct.Base* %0, i32 1)
+  ret i32 %call
+}
+
+; Function Attrs: noinline norecurse nounwind optnone
+define i32 @main(i32 %argc, i8** %argv) #1 {
+entry:
+  %retval = alloca i32, align 4
+  %argc.addr = alloca i32, align 4
+  %argv.addr = alloca i8**, align 8
+  %b = alloca %struct.Base, align 8
+  %d = alloca %struct.Derived, align 8
+  store i32 0, i32* %retval, align 4
+  store i32 %argc, i32* %argc.addr, align 4
+  store i8** %argv, i8*** %argv.addr, align 8
+  call void @_ZN4BaseC1Ei(%struct.Base* %b, i32 10)
+  call void @_ZN7DerivedC1Ei(%struct.Derived* %d, i32 20)
+  %call = call i32 @_Z4doitP4Base(%struct.Base* %b)
+  %0 = bitcast %struct.Derived* %d to %struct.Base*
+  %call1 = call i32 @_Z4doitP4Base(%struct.Base* %0)
+  %add = add nsw i32 %call, %call1
+  ret i32 %add
+}
+
+; Function Attrs: noinline nounwind optnone
+define linkonce_odr void @_ZN4BaseC1Ei(%struct.Base* %this, i32 %n) unnamed_addr #0 comdat align 2 {
+entry:
+  %this.addr = alloca %struct.Base*, align 8
+  %n.addr = alloca i32, align 4
+  store %struct.Base* %this, %struct.Base** %this.addr, align 8
+  store i32 %n, i32* %n.addr, align 4
+  %this1 = load %struct.Base*, %struct.Base** %this.addr, align 8
+  %0 = load i32, i32* %n.addr, align 4
+  call void @_ZN4BaseC2Ei(%struct.Base* %this1, i32 %0)
+  ret void
+}
+
+; Function Attrs: noinline nounwind optnone
+define linkonce_odr void @_ZN7DerivedC1Ei(%struct.Derived* %this, i32 %n) unnamed_addr #0 comdat align 2 {
+entry:
+  %this.addr = alloca %struct.Derived*, align 8
+  %n.addr = alloca i32, align 4
+  store %struct.Derived* %this, %struct.Derived** %this.addr, align 8
+  store i32 %n, i32* %n.addr, align 4
+  %this1 = load %struct.Derived*, %struct.Derived** %this.addr, align 8
+  %0 = load i32, i32* %n.addr, align 4
+  call void @_ZN7DerivedC2Ei(%struct.Derived* %this1, i32 %0)
+  ret void
+}
+
+; Function Attrs: noinline nounwind optnone
+define linkonce_odr void @_ZN4BaseC2Ei(%struct.Base* %this, i32 %n) unnamed_addr #0 comdat align 2 {
+entry:
+  %this.addr = alloca %struct.Base*, align 8
+  %n.addr = alloca i32, align 4
+  store %struct.Base* %this, %struct.Base** %this.addr, align 8
+  store i32 %n, i32* %n.addr, align 4
+  %this1 = load %struct.Base*, %struct.Base** %this.addr, align 8
+  %0 = bitcast %struct.Base* %this1 to i32 (...)***
+  store i32 (...)** bitcast (i8** getelementptr inbounds ({ [3 x i8*] }, { [3 x i8*] }* @_ZTV4Base, i32 0, inrange i32 0, i32 2) to i32 (...)**), i32 (...)*** %0, align 8
+  %data = getelementptr inbounds %struct.Base, %struct.Base* %this1, i32 0, i32 1
+  %1 = load i32, i32* %n.addr, align 4
+  store i32 %1, i32* %data, align 8
+  ret void
+}
+
+; Function Attrs: noinline nounwind optnone
+define linkonce_odr i32 @_ZN4Base4doitEi(%struct.Base* %this, i32 %n) unnamed_addr #0 comdat align 2 {
+entry:
+  %this.addr = alloca %struct.Base*, align 8
+  %n.addr = alloca i32, align 4
+  store %struct.Base* %this, %struct.Base** %this.addr, align 8
+  store i32 %n, i32* %n.addr, align 4
+  %this1 = load %struct.Base*, %struct.Base** %this.addr, align 8
+  %0 = load i32, i32* %n.addr, align 4
+  %data = getelementptr inbounds %struct.Base, %struct.Base* %this1, i32 0, i32 1
+  %1 = load i32, i32* %data, align 8
+  %sub = sub nsw i32 %0, %1
+  ret i32 %sub
+}
+
+; Function Attrs: noinline nounwind optnone
+define linkonce_odr void @_ZN7DerivedC2Ei(%struct.Derived* %this, i32 %n) unnamed_addr #0 comdat align 2 {
+entry:
+  %this.addr = alloca %struct.Derived*, align 8
+  %n.addr = alloca i32, align 4
+  store %struct.Derived* %this, %struct.Derived** %this.addr, align 8
+  store i32 %n, i32* %n.addr, align 4
+  %this1 = load %struct.Derived*, %struct.Derived** %this.addr, align 8
+  %0 = bitcast %struct.Derived* %this1 to %struct.Base*
+  %1 = load i32, i32* %n.addr, align 4
+  %add = add nsw i32 %1, 1
+  call void @_ZN4BaseC2Ei(%struct.Base* %0, i32 %add)
+  %2 = bitcast %struct.Derived* %this1 to i32 (...)***
+  store i32 (...)** bitcast (i8** getelementptr inbounds ({ [3 x i8*] }, { [3 x i8*] }* @_ZTV7Derived, i32 0, inrange i32 0, i32 2) to i32 (...)**), i32 (...)*** %2, align 8
+  ret void
+}
+
+; Function Attrs: noinline nounwind optnone
+define linkonce_odr i32 @_ZN7Derived4doitEi(%struct.Derived* %this, i32 %n) unnamed_addr #0 comdat align 2 {
+entry:
+  %this.addr = alloca %struct.Derived*, align 8
+  %n.addr = alloca i32, align 4
+  store %struct.Derived* %this, %struct.Derived** %this.addr, align 8
+  store i32 %n, i32* %n.addr, align 4
+  %this1 = load %struct.Derived*, %struct.Derived** %this.addr, align 8
+  %0 = load i32, i32* %n.addr, align 4
+  %1 = bitcast %struct.Derived* %this1 to %struct.Base*
+  %data = getelementptr inbounds %struct.Base, %struct.Base* %1, i32 0, i32 1
+  %2 = load i32, i32* %data, align 8
+  %mul = mul nsw i32 %0, %2
+  ret i32 %mul
+}
+
+attributes #0 = { noinline nounwind optnone "correctly-rounded-divide-sqrt-fp-math"="false" "disable-tail-calls"="false" "frame-pointer"="none" "less-precise-fpmad"="false" "min-legal-vector-width"="0" "no-infs-fp-math"="false" "no-jump-tables"="false" "no-nans-fp-math"="false" "no-signed-zeros-fp-math"="false" "no-trapping-math"="false" "stack-protector-buffer-size"="8" "target-features"="+cx8,+mmx,+sse,+sse2,+x87" "unsafe-fp-math"="false" "use-soft-float"="false" }
+attributes #1 = { noinline norecurse nounwind optnone "correctly-rounded-divide-sqrt-fp-math"="false" "disable-tail-calls"="false" "frame-pointer"="none" "less-precise-fpmad"="false" "min-legal-vector-width"="0" "no-infs-fp-math"="false" "no-jump-tables"="false" "no-nans-fp-math"="false" "no-signed-zeros-fp-math"="false" "no-trapping-math"="false" "stack-protector-buffer-size"="8" "target-features"="+cx8,+mmx,+sse,+sse2,+x87" "unsafe-fp-math"="false" "use-soft-float"="false" }
+
+!llvm.module.flags = !{!0}
+!llvm.ident = !{!1}
+
+!0 = !{i32 1, !"wchar_size", i32 4}
+!1 = !{!"clang version 10.0.0-4ubuntu1 "}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/._lista_8 b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/._lista_8
new file mode 100755
index 0000000..893436c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/._lista_8
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/ask21_lista_8.tgz b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/ask21_lista_8.tgz
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..789c9af
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/ask21_lista_8.tgz
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/bar.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/bar.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..97fbd4f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/bar.c
@@ -0,0 +1,5 @@
+// extern long foo;
+
+int bar = 42;
+// long *foo_p = &foo;
+short dead[15];
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/even.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/even.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5bf8606
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/even.c
@@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
+int is_odd(long n);
+
+int is_even(long n) {
+  if (n == 0)
+    return 1;
+  else
+    return is_odd(n - 1);
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/foo.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/foo.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..080d831
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/foo.c
@@ -0,0 +1,5 @@
+// extern int bar;
+
+long foo = 19;
+// int *bar_p = &bar;
+char code[17];
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/lazy.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/lazy.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fb08cf7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/lazy.c
@@ -0,0 +1,7 @@
+#include <stdio.h>
+
+int main(void) {
+  puts("first time");
+  puts("second time");
+  return 0;
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/main.lds b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/main.lds
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..25a4ca9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/main.lds
@@ -0,0 +1,39 @@
+OUTPUT_FORMAT("elf64-x86-64")
+OUTPUT_ARCH(i386:x86-64)
+ENTRY(_start)
+PHDRS
+{
+  code   PT_LOAD FLAGS(5);
+  rodata PT_LOAD FLAGS(4);
+  data   PT_LOAD FLAGS(6);
+}
+SECTIONS
+{
+  . = 0x400000 + SIZEOF_HEADERS;
+
+  .text :
+  {
+    *(.text .text.*)
+  } : code
+
+  .rodata :
+  {
+    *(.rodata .rodata.*)
+  } : rodata
+
+  .data : 
+  {
+    *(.data .data.*)
+  } : data
+
+  .bss :
+  {
+   *(.bss .bss.*)
+   *(COMMON)
+  } : data
+
+  /DISCARD/ :
+  {
+    *(.note.gnu.property)
+  }
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/merge-1.map b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/merge-1.map
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2e93e7c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/merge-1.map
@@ -0,0 +1,300 @@
+
+Merging program properties
+
+
+Discarded input sections
+
+ .note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20 bar.o
+
+Memory Configuration
+
+Name             Origin             Length             Attributes
+*default*        0x0000000000000000 0xffffffffffffffff
+
+Linker script and memory map
+
+LOAD foo.o
+LOAD bar.o
+
+.interp
+ *(.interp)
+
+.note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20
+ .note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20 foo.o
+
+.note.gnu.build-id
+ *(.note.gnu.build-id)
+
+.hash
+ *(.hash)
+
+.gnu.hash
+ *(.gnu.hash)
+
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+ *(.dynsym)
+
+.dynstr
+ *(.dynstr)
+
+.gnu.version
+ *(.gnu.version)
+
+.gnu.version_d
+ *(.gnu.version_d)
+
+.gnu.version_r
+ *(.gnu.version_r)
+
+.rela.init
+ *(.rela.init)
+
+.rela.text
+ *(.rela.text)
+
+.rela.fini
+ *(.rela.fini)
+
+.rela.rodata
+ *(.rela.rodata)
+
+.rela.data.rel.ro
+ *(.rela.data.rel.ro)
+
+.rela.data
+ *(.rela.data)
+
+.rela.tdata
+ *(.rela.tdata)
+
+.rela.tbss
+ *(.rela.tbss)
+
+.rela.ctors
+ *(.rela.ctors)
+
+.rela.dtors
+ *(.rela.dtors)
+
+.rela.got
+ *(.rela.got)
+
+.rela.bss
+ *(.rela.bss)
+
+.rela.ldata
+ *(.rela.ldata)
+
+.rela.lbss
+ *(.rela.lbss)
+
+.rela.lrodata
+ *(.rela.lrodata)
+
+.rela.ifunc
+ *(.rela.ifunc)
+
+.rela.plt
+ *(.rela.plt)
+
+.init
+ *(SORT_NONE(.init))
+
+.plt
+ *(.plt)
+
+.plt.got
+ *(.plt.got)
+
+.plt.sec
+ *(.plt.sec)
+
+.text           0x0000000000000000        0x0
+ *(.text .stub)
+ .text          0x0000000000000000        0x0 foo.o
+ .text          0x0000000000000000        0x0 bar.o
+ *(.gnu.warning)
+
+.fini
+ *(SORT_NONE(.fini))
+
+.rodata
+ *(.rodata)
+
+.rodata1
+ *(.rodata1)
+
+.eh_frame_hdr
+ *(.eh_frame_hdr)
+
+.eh_frame
+ *(.eh_frame)
+
+.gcc_except_table
+ *(.gcc_except_table)
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+ *(.dynamic)
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+
+.got.plt
+ *(.got.plt)
+
+.data           0x0000000000000000        0xc
+ *(.data)
+ .data          0x0000000000000000        0x8 foo.o
+                0x0000000000000000                foo
+ .data          0x0000000000000008        0x4 bar.o
+                0x0000000000000008                bar
+
+.data1
+ *(.data1)
+
+.bss            0x0000000000000000       0x3e
+ *(.bss)
+ .bss           0x0000000000000000       0x11 foo.o
+                0x0000000000000000                code
+ *fill*         0x0000000000000011        0xf 
+ .bss           0x0000000000000020       0x1e bar.o
+                0x0000000000000020                dead
+
+.lbss
+ *(.lbss)
+
+.lrodata
+ *(.lrodata)
+
+.ldata
+ *(.ldata)
+
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+ *(.stab)
+
+.stabstr
+ *(.stabstr)
+
+.stab.excl
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+
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+
+.stab.indexstr
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+
+.comment        0x0000000000000000       0x56
+ *(.comment)
+ .comment       0x0000000000000000       0x2b foo.o
+ .comment       0x000000000000002b       0x2b bar.o
+
+.note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0
+ .note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0 foo.o
+ .note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0 bar.o
+
+.gnu.build.attributes
+ *(.gnu.build.attributes)
+
+.debug
+ *(.debug)
+
+.line
+ *(.line)
+
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+ *(.debug_srcinfo)
+
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+
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+
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+
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+ *(.debug_line)
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+ *(.debug_frame)
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+.debug_str
+ *(.debug_str)
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+ *(.debug_loc)
+
+.debug_macinfo
+ *(.debug_macinfo)
+
+.debug_weaknames
+ *(.debug_weaknames)
+
+.debug_funcnames
+ *(.debug_funcnames)
+
+.debug_typenames
+ *(.debug_typenames)
+
+.debug_varnames
+ *(.debug_varnames)
+
+.debug_pubtypes
+ *(.debug_pubtypes)
+
+.debug_ranges
+ *(.debug_ranges)
+
+.debug_macro
+ *(.debug_macro)
+
+.debug_addr
+ *(.debug_addr)
+
+.gnu.attributes
+ *(.gnu.attributes)
+OUTPUT(merge-1.o elf64-x86-64)
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/merge-2.map b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/merge-2.map
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2677803
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/merge-2.map
@@ -0,0 +1,301 @@
+
+Merging program properties
+
+
+Discarded input sections
+
+ .note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20 foo.o
+
+Memory Configuration
+
+Name             Origin             Length             Attributes
+*default*        0x0000000000000000 0xffffffffffffffff
+
+Linker script and memory map
+
+LOAD bar.o
+LOAD foo.o
+
+.interp
+ *(.interp)
+
+.note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20
+ .note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20 bar.o
+
+.note.gnu.build-id
+ *(.note.gnu.build-id)
+
+.hash
+ *(.hash)
+
+.gnu.hash
+ *(.gnu.hash)
+
+.dynsym
+ *(.dynsym)
+
+.dynstr
+ *(.dynstr)
+
+.gnu.version
+ *(.gnu.version)
+
+.gnu.version_d
+ *(.gnu.version_d)
+
+.gnu.version_r
+ *(.gnu.version_r)
+
+.rela.init
+ *(.rela.init)
+
+.rela.text
+ *(.rela.text)
+
+.rela.fini
+ *(.rela.fini)
+
+.rela.rodata
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+
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+
+.rela.tdata
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+.rela.tbss
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+.rela.ctors
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+
+.init
+ *(SORT_NONE(.init))
+
+.plt
+ *(.plt)
+
+.plt.got
+ *(.plt.got)
+
+.plt.sec
+ *(.plt.sec)
+
+.text           0x0000000000000000        0x0
+ *(.text .stub)
+ .text          0x0000000000000000        0x0 bar.o
+ .text          0x0000000000000000        0x0 foo.o
+ *(.gnu.warning)
+
+.fini
+ *(SORT_NONE(.fini))
+
+.rodata
+ *(.rodata)
+
+.rodata1
+ *(.rodata1)
+
+.eh_frame_hdr
+ *(.eh_frame_hdr)
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+                0x0000000000000000                bar
+ *fill*         0x0000000000000004        0x4 
+ .data          0x0000000000000008        0x8 foo.o
+                0x0000000000000008                foo
+
+.data1
+ *(.data1)
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+                0x0000000000000000                dead
+ *fill*         0x000000000000001e        0x2 
+ .bss           0x0000000000000020       0x11 foo.o
+                0x0000000000000020                code
+
+.lbss
+ *(.lbss)
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+ *(.comment)
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+ .comment       0x000000000000002b       0x2b foo.o
+
+.note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0
+ .note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0 bar.o
+ .note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0 foo.o
+
+.gnu.build.attributes
+ *(.gnu.build.attributes)
+
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+ *(.debug)
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+.debug_sfnames
+ *(.debug_sfnames)
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+ *(.debug_aranges)
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+ *(.debug_pubnames)
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+.debug_info
+ *(.debug_info)
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+ *(.debug_abbrev)
+
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+ *(.debug_line)
+
+.debug_frame
+ *(.debug_frame)
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+ *(.debug_str)
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+OUTPUT(merge-2.o elf64-x86-64)
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/mismatch-a.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/mismatch-a.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..39436f2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/mismatch-a.c
@@ -0,0 +1,7 @@
+/* mismatch-a.c */
+void p2(void);
+
+int main() {
+  p2();
+  return 0;
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/mismatch-b.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/mismatch-b.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..451d5b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/mismatch-b.c
@@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
+/* mismatch-b.c */
+#include <stdio.h>
+
+char main;
+
+void p2() {
+  printf("0x%x\n", main);
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/odd.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/odd.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c32961e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/odd.c
@@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
+int is_even(long n);
+
+int is_odd(long n) {
+  if (n == 0)
+    return 0;
+  else
+    return is_even(n - 1);
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/relo3.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/relo3.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6aca7b6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/relo3.c
@@ -0,0 +1,15 @@
+int relo3(int val) {
+  switch (val) {
+    case 100:
+      return val;
+    case 101:
+      return val + 1;
+    case 103:
+    case 104:
+      return val + 3;
+    case 105:
+      return val + 5;
+    default:
+      return val + 6;
+  }
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/start.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/start.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a875ace
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/start.c
@@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
+int is_even(long);
+
+void _start(void) {
+  asm volatile(
+    "syscall"
+    : /* no output */
+    : "a" (0x3c), "D" (is_even(42)));
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/str-a.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/str-a.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3b0fb36
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/str-a.c
@@ -0,0 +1,10 @@
+#include <stdio.h>
+
+char *somestr(void);
+
+int main(void) {
+  char *s = somestr();
+  s[5] = '\0';
+  puts(s);
+  return 0;
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/str-b.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/str-b.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..50101cb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/str-b.c
@@ -0,0 +1,9 @@
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <string.h>
+
+char *somestr(void) {
+  char *buf = malloc(sizeof("Hello, world!"));
+  strcpy(buf, "Hello, world!");  
+  return buf;
+}
+
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista8/swap.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/swap.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e1966fd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista8/swap.c
@@ -0,0 +1,18 @@
+extern int buf[];
+
+int *bufp0 = &buf[0];
+static int *bufp1;
+
+static void incr() {
+  static int count = 0;
+  count++;
+}
+
+void swap() {
+  int temp;
+  incr();
+  bufp1 = &buf[1];
+  temp = *bufp0;
+  *bufp0 = *bufp1;
+  *bufp1 = temp;
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista9/gadget.s b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/gadget.s
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6d60a63
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/gadget.s
@@ -0,0 +1,16 @@
+        .global gadget
+
+        .text
+
+# rax: 0x3c
+# rdi: 0
+# rdx: {NULL, ...}
+# rsi: path + '\n'
+gadget:
+        dec     %rax            # rax: 0x3c -> 0x3b (sys_execve)
+        mov     %rdx, %rsi      # rsi: argv = {NULL}
+        mov     %rdi, %rdx      # rdx: envp = NULL
+        lea     16(%rsp),%rdi   # rdi: path
+        ret
+
+# vim: ft=gas
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista9/lazy.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/lazy.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fb08cf7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/lazy.c
@@ -0,0 +1,7 @@
+#include <stdio.h>
+
+int main(void) {
+  puts("first time");
+  puts("second time");
+  return 0;
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista9/lista_9.tgz b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/lista_9.tgz
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5e5c6f4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/lista_9.tgz
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista9/relo3.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/relo3.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6aca7b6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/relo3.c
@@ -0,0 +1,15 @@
+int relo3(int val) {
+  switch (val) {
+    case 100:
+      return val;
+    case 101:
+      return val + 1;
+    case 103:
+    case 104:
+      return val + 3;
+    case 105:
+      return val + 5;
+    default:
+      return val + 6;
+  }
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista9/ropex.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/ropex.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dbeae12
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/ropex.c
@@ -0,0 +1,31 @@
+#include <stdbool.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+
+/* Get string from stdin */
+void readline(FILE *in, char *p) {
+  int c;
+  while (true) {
+    c = fgetc(in);
+    if (c == EOF || c == '\n')
+      break;
+    *p++ = c;
+  }
+  *p = '\0';
+} 
+
+void echo(FILE *in) {
+  char buf[48];
+  readline(in, buf);
+  puts(buf);
+}
+
+int main(int argc, char *argv[]) {
+  FILE *in = NULL;
+  if (argc == 2)
+    in = fopen(argv[1], "rb");
+  if (in == NULL)
+    in = stdin;
+  echo(in);
+  return 0;
+} 
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista9/ropex.in (1).txt b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/ropex.in (1).txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..902773e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/ropex.in (1).txt
@@ -0,0 +1,7 @@
+00000000: dead c0de dead c0de dead c0de dead c0de  ................
+00000010: dead c0de dead c0de dead c0de dead c0de  ................
+00000020: dead c0de dead c0de dead c0de dead c0de  ................
+00000030: dead c0de dead c0de 731c 4000 0000 0000  ................
+00000040: f422 4000 0000 0000 0000 0000 0000 0000  ................
+00000050: 2f75 7372 2f62 696e 2f70 7974 686f 6e32  /usr/bin/python2
+00000060: 000a                                     ................
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista9/ropex.in.txt b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/ropex.in.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8deabfe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/ropex.in.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,7 @@
+00000000: dead c0de dead c0de dead c0de dead c0de  ................
+00000010: dead c0de dead c0de dead c0de dead c0de  ................
+00000020: dead c0de dead c0de dead c0de dead c0de  ................
+00000030: dead c0de dead c0de 671d 4000 0000 0000  ................
+00000040: 8e44 4900 0000 0000 0000 0000 0000 0000  ................
+00000050: 2f75 7372 2f62 696e 2f6e 7961 6e63 6174  /usr/bin/nyancat
+00000060: 000a                                     ................
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista9/ropex.map b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/ropex.map
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4bd12a5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/ropex.map
@@ -0,0 +1,511 @@
+Archive member included to satisfy reference by file (symbol)
+
+/usr/lib/x86_64-linux-gnu/libc_nonshared.a(elf-init.oS)
+                              /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o (__libc_csu_init)
+
+Merging program properties
+
+Removed property 0xc0000002 to merge /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o (0x3) and gadget.o (not found)
+Removed property 0xc0000002 to merge /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o (not found) and /usr/lib/x86_64-linux-gnu/libc_nonshared.a(elf-init.oS) (0x3)
+Removed property 0xc0000002 to merge /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o (not found) and /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtendS.o (0x3)
+Removed property 0xc0000002 to merge /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o (not found) and /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crtn.o (0x3)
+
+As-needed library included to satisfy reference by file (symbol)
+
+libc.so.6                     ropex.o (fopen@@GLIBC_2.2.5)
+
+Discarded input sections
+
+ .note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+ .note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+ .note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crti.o
+ .note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crti.o
+ .note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtbeginS.o
+ .note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtbeginS.o
+ .note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0 ropex.o
+ .note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20 ropex.o
+ .note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0 /usr/lib/x86_64-linux-gnu/libc_nonshared.a(elf-init.oS)
+ .note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20 /usr/lib/x86_64-linux-gnu/libc_nonshared.a(elf-init.oS)
+ .note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtendS.o
+ .note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtendS.o
+ .note.gnu.property
+                0x0000000000000000       0x20 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crtn.o
+ .note.GNU-stack
+                0x0000000000000000        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crtn.o
+
+Memory Configuration
+
+Name             Origin             Length             Attributes
+*default*        0x0000000000000000 0xffffffffffffffff
+
+Linker script and memory map
+
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crti.o
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtbeginS.o
+LOAD ropex.o
+LOAD gadget.o
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/libgcc.a
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/libgcc_s.so
+START GROUP
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/libgcc_s.so.1
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/libgcc.a
+END GROUP
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/libc.so
+START GROUP
+LOAD /lib/x86_64-linux-gnu/libc.so.6
+LOAD /usr/lib/x86_64-linux-gnu/libc_nonshared.a
+LOAD /lib/x86_64-linux-gnu/ld-linux-x86-64.so.2
+END GROUP
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/libgcc.a
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/libgcc_s.so
+START GROUP
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/libgcc_s.so.1
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/libgcc.a
+END GROUP
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtendS.o
+LOAD /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crtn.o
+                [!provide]                        PROVIDE (__executable_start = SEGMENT_START ("text-segment", 0x0))
+                0x00000000000002a8                . = (SEGMENT_START ("text-segment", 0x0) + SIZEOF_HEADERS)
+
+.interp         0x00000000000002a8       0x1c
+ *(.interp)
+ .interp        0x00000000000002a8       0x1c /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+
+.note.gnu.build-id
+                0x00000000000002c4       0x24
+ *(.note.gnu.build-id)
+ .note.gnu.build-id
+                0x00000000000002c4       0x24 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+
+.note.ABI-tag   0x00000000000002e8       0x20
+ .note.ABI-tag  0x00000000000002e8       0x20 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+
+.hash
+ *(.hash)
+
+.gnu.hash       0x0000000000000308       0x28
+ *(.gnu.hash)
+ .gnu.hash      0x0000000000000308       0x28 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+
+.dynsym         0x0000000000000330      0x108
+ *(.dynsym)
+ .dynsym        0x0000000000000330      0x108 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+
+.dynstr         0x0000000000000438       0xaf
+ *(.dynstr)
+ .dynstr        0x0000000000000438       0xaf /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+
+.gnu.version    0x00000000000004e8       0x16
+ *(.gnu.version)
+ .gnu.version   0x00000000000004e8       0x16 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+
+.gnu.version_d  0x0000000000000500        0x0
+ *(.gnu.version_d)
+ .gnu.version_d
+                0x0000000000000500        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+
+.gnu.version_r  0x0000000000000500       0x30
+ *(.gnu.version_r)
+ .gnu.version_r
+                0x0000000000000500       0x30 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+
+.rela.dyn       0x0000000000000530       0xd8
+ *(.rela.init)
+ *(.rela.text .rela.text.* .rela.gnu.linkonce.t.*)
+ .rela.text     0x0000000000000530        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+ *(.rela.fini)
+ *(.rela.rodata .rela.rodata.* .rela.gnu.linkonce.r.*)
+ *(.rela.data .rela.data.* .rela.gnu.linkonce.d.*)
+ .rela.data.rel.ro
+                0x0000000000000530        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+ .rela.data.rel.local
+                0x0000000000000530       0x18 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+ *(.rela.tdata .rela.tdata.* .rela.gnu.linkonce.td.*)
+ *(.rela.tbss .rela.tbss.* .rela.gnu.linkonce.tb.*)
+ *(.rela.ctors)
+ *(.rela.dtors)
+ *(.rela.got)
+ .rela.got      0x0000000000000548       0x78 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+ *(.rela.bss .rela.bss.* .rela.gnu.linkonce.b.*)
+ .rela.bss      0x00000000000005c0       0x18 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+ *(.rela.ldata .rela.ldata.* .rela.gnu.linkonce.l.*)
+ *(.rela.lbss .rela.lbss.* .rela.gnu.linkonce.lb.*)
+ *(.rela.lrodata .rela.lrodata.* .rela.gnu.linkonce.lr.*)
+ *(.rela.ifunc)
+ .rela.ifunc    0x00000000000005d8        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+ .rela.fini_array
+                0x00000000000005d8       0x18 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+ .rela.init_array
+                0x00000000000005f0       0x18 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+
+.rela.plt       0x0000000000000608       0x60
+ *(.rela.plt)
+ .rela.plt      0x0000000000000608       0x60 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+ *(.rela.iplt)
+                0x0000000000001000                . = ALIGN (CONSTANT (MAXPAGESIZE))
+
+.init           0x0000000000001000       0x1b
+ *(SORT_NONE(.init))
+ .init          0x0000000000001000       0x16 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crti.o
+                0x0000000000001000                _init
+ .init          0x0000000000001016        0x5 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crtn.o
+
+.plt            0x0000000000001020       0x50
+ *(.plt)
+ .plt           0x0000000000001020       0x50 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+                0x0000000000001030                puts@@GLIBC_2.2.5
+                0x0000000000001040                __stack_chk_fail@@GLIBC_2.4
+                0x0000000000001050                fgetc@@GLIBC_2.2.5
+                0x0000000000001060                fopen@@GLIBC_2.2.5
+ *(.iplt)
+
+.plt.got        0x0000000000001070        0x8
+ *(.plt.got)
+ .plt.got       0x0000000000001070        0x8 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+                0x0000000000001070                __cxa_finalize@@GLIBC_2.2.5
+
+.plt.sec
+ *(.plt.sec)
+
+.text           0x0000000000001080      0x235
+ *(.text.unlikely .text.*_unlikely .text.unlikely.*)
+ *(.text.exit .text.exit.*)
+ *(.text.startup .text.startup.*)
+ *(.text.hot .text.hot.*)
+ *(SORT_BY_NAME(.text.sorted.*))
+ *(.text .stub .text.* .gnu.linkonce.t.*)
+ .text          0x0000000000001080       0x2f /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+                0x0000000000001080                _start
+ .text          0x00000000000010af        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crti.o
+ *fill*         0x00000000000010af        0x1 
+ .text          0x00000000000010b0       0xb9 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtbeginS.o
+ .text          0x0000000000001169       0xbb ropex.o
+                0x0000000000001169                readline
+                0x00000000000011a3                echo
+                0x00000000000011e7                main
+ .text          0x0000000000001224        0xf gadget.o
+                0x0000000000001224                gadget
+ *fill*         0x0000000000001233        0xd 
+ .text          0x0000000000001240       0x75 /usr/lib/x86_64-linux-gnu/libc_nonshared.a(elf-init.oS)
+                0x0000000000001240                __libc_csu_init
+                0x00000000000012b0                __libc_csu_fini
+ .text          0x00000000000012b5        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtendS.o
+ .text          0x00000000000012b5        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crtn.o
+ *(.gnu.warning)
+
+.fini           0x00000000000012b8        0xd
+ *(SORT_NONE(.fini))
+ .fini          0x00000000000012b8        0x8 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crti.o
+                0x00000000000012b8                _fini
+ .fini          0x00000000000012c0        0x5 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crtn.o
+                [!provide]                        PROVIDE (__etext = .)
+                [!provide]                        PROVIDE (_etext = .)
+                [!provide]                        PROVIDE (etext = .)
+                0x0000000000002000                . = ALIGN (CONSTANT (MAXPAGESIZE))
+                0x0000000000002000                . = SEGMENT_START ("rodata-segment", (ALIGN (CONSTANT (MAXPAGESIZE)) + (. & (CONSTANT (MAXPAGESIZE) - 0x1))))
+
+.rodata         0x0000000000002000        0x7
+ *(.rodata .rodata.* .gnu.linkonce.r.*)
+ .rodata.cst4   0x0000000000002000        0x4 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+                0x0000000000002000                _IO_stdin_used
+ .rodata.str1.1
+                0x0000000000002004        0x3 ropex.o
+
+.rodata1
+ *(.rodata1)
+
+.eh_frame_hdr   0x0000000000002008       0x34
+ *(.eh_frame_hdr)
+ .eh_frame_hdr  0x0000000000002008       0x34 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+                0x0000000000002008                __GNU_EH_FRAME_HDR
+ *(.eh_frame_entry .eh_frame_entry.*)
+
+.eh_frame       0x0000000000002040       0xd0
+ *(.eh_frame)
+ .eh_frame      0x0000000000002040       0x30 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+                                         0x2c (size before relaxing)
+ *fill*         0x0000000000002070        0x0 
+ .eh_frame      0x0000000000002070       0x28 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+                                         0x40 (size before relaxing)
+ .eh_frame      0x0000000000002098       0x18 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+                                         0x30 (size before relaxing)
+ .eh_frame      0x00000000000020b0       0x5c /usr/lib/x86_64-linux-gnu/libc_nonshared.a(elf-init.oS)
+                                         0x78 (size before relaxing)
+ .eh_frame      0x000000000000210c        0x4 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtendS.o
+ *(.eh_frame.*)
+
+.gcc_except_table
+ *(.gcc_except_table .gcc_except_table.*)
+
+.gnu_extab
+ *(.gnu_extab*)
+
+.exception_ranges
+ *(.exception_ranges*)
+                0x0000000000003da0                . = DATA_SEGMENT_ALIGN (CONSTANT (MAXPAGESIZE), CONSTANT (COMMONPAGESIZE))
+
+.eh_frame
+ *(.eh_frame)
+ *(.eh_frame.*)
+
+.gnu_extab
+ *(.gnu_extab)
+
+.gcc_except_table
+ *(.gcc_except_table .gcc_except_table.*)
+
+.exception_ranges
+ *(.exception_ranges*)
+
+.tdata          0x0000000000003da0        0x0
+                [!provide]                        PROVIDE (__tdata_start = .)
+ *(.tdata .tdata.* .gnu.linkonce.td.*)
+
+.tbss
+ *(.tbss .tbss.* .gnu.linkonce.tb.*)
+ *(.tcommon)
+
+.preinit_array  0x0000000000003da0        0x0
+                [!provide]                        PROVIDE (__preinit_array_start = .)
+ *(.preinit_array)
+                [!provide]                        PROVIDE (__preinit_array_end = .)
+
+.init_array     0x0000000000003da0        0x8
+                0x0000000000003da0                PROVIDE (__init_array_start = .)
+ *(SORT_BY_INIT_PRIORITY(.init_array.*) SORT_BY_INIT_PRIORITY(.ctors.*))
+ *(.init_array EXCLUDE_FILE(*crtend?.o *crtend.o *crtbegin?.o *crtbegin.o) .ctors)
+ .init_array    0x0000000000003da0        0x8 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtbeginS.o
+                0x0000000000003da8                PROVIDE (__init_array_end = .)
+
+.fini_array     0x0000000000003da8        0x8
+                [!provide]                        PROVIDE (__fini_array_start = .)
+ *(SORT_BY_INIT_PRIORITY(.fini_array.*) SORT_BY_INIT_PRIORITY(.dtors.*))
+ *(.fini_array EXCLUDE_FILE(*crtend?.o *crtend.o *crtbegin?.o *crtbegin.o) .dtors)
+ .fini_array    0x0000000000003da8        0x8 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtbeginS.o
+                [!provide]                        PROVIDE (__fini_array_end = .)
+
+.ctors
+ *crtbegin.o(.ctors)
+ *crtbegin?.o(.ctors)
+ *(EXCLUDE_FILE(*crtend?.o *crtend.o) .ctors)
+ *(SORT_BY_NAME(.ctors.*))
+ *(.ctors)
+
+.dtors
+ *crtbegin.o(.dtors)
+ *crtbegin?.o(.dtors)
+ *(EXCLUDE_FILE(*crtend?.o *crtend.o) .dtors)
+ *(SORT_BY_NAME(.dtors.*))
+ *(.dtors)
+
+.jcr
+ *(.jcr)
+
+.data.rel.ro    0x0000000000003db0        0x0
+ *(.data.rel.ro.local* .gnu.linkonce.d.rel.ro.local.*)
+ *(.data.rel.ro .data.rel.ro.* .gnu.linkonce.d.rel.ro.*)
+ .data.rel.ro   0x0000000000003db0        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+
+.dynamic        0x0000000000003db0      0x1f0
+ *(.dynamic)
+ .dynamic       0x0000000000003db0      0x1f0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+                0x0000000000003db0                _DYNAMIC
+
+.got            0x0000000000003fa0       0x60
+ *(.got.plt)
+ .got.plt       0x0000000000003fa0       0x38 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+                0x0000000000003fa0                _GLOBAL_OFFSET_TABLE_
+ *(.igot.plt)
+ *(.got)
+ .got           0x0000000000003fd8       0x28 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+ *(.igot)
+                0x0000000000004000                . = DATA_SEGMENT_RELRO_END (., 0x0)
+
+.data           0x0000000000004000       0x10
+ *(.data .data.* .gnu.linkonce.d.*)
+ .data          0x0000000000004000        0x4 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+                0x0000000000004000                data_start
+                0x0000000000004000                __data_start
+ .data          0x0000000000004004        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crti.o
+ .data          0x0000000000004004        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtbeginS.o
+ *fill*         0x0000000000004004        0x4 
+ .data.rel.local
+                0x0000000000004008        0x8 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtbeginS.o
+                0x0000000000004008                __dso_handle
+ .data          0x0000000000004010        0x0 ropex.o
+ .data          0x0000000000004010        0x0 gadget.o
+ .data          0x0000000000004010        0x0 /usr/lib/x86_64-linux-gnu/libc_nonshared.a(elf-init.oS)
+ .data          0x0000000000004010        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtendS.o
+ .data          0x0000000000004010        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crtn.o
+
+.tm_clone_table
+                0x0000000000004010        0x0
+ .tm_clone_table
+                0x0000000000004010        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtbeginS.o
+ .tm_clone_table
+                0x0000000000004010        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtendS.o
+
+.data1
+ *(.data1)
+                0x0000000000004010                _edata = .
+                [!provide]                        PROVIDE (edata = .)
+                0x0000000000004010                . = .
+                0x0000000000004010                __bss_start = .
+
+.bss            0x0000000000004010       0x10
+ *(.dynbss)
+ *fill*         0x0000000000004010        0x0 
+ .dynbss        0x0000000000004010        0x8 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+                0x0000000000004010                stdin@@GLIBC_2.2.5
+ *(.bss .bss.* .gnu.linkonce.b.*)
+ .bss           0x0000000000004018        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/Scrt1.o
+ .bss           0x0000000000004018        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crti.o
+ .bss           0x0000000000004018        0x1 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtbeginS.o
+ .bss           0x0000000000004019        0x0 ropex.o
+ .bss           0x0000000000004019        0x0 gadget.o
+ .bss           0x0000000000004019        0x0 /usr/lib/x86_64-linux-gnu/libc_nonshared.a(elf-init.oS)
+ .bss           0x0000000000004019        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtendS.o
+ .bss           0x0000000000004019        0x0 /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/../../../x86_64-linux-gnu/crtn.o
+ *(COMMON)
+                0x0000000000004020                . = ALIGN ((. != 0x0)?0x8:0x1)
+ *fill*         0x0000000000004019        0x7 
+
+.lbss
+ *(.dynlbss)
+ *(.lbss .lbss.* .gnu.linkonce.lb.*)
+ *(LARGE_COMMON)
+                0x0000000000004020                . = ALIGN (0x8)
+                0x0000000000004020                . = SEGMENT_START ("ldata-segment", .)
+
+.lrodata
+ *(.lrodata .lrodata.* .gnu.linkonce.lr.*)
+
+.ldata          0x0000000000006020        0x0
+ *(.ldata .ldata.* .gnu.linkonce.l.*)
+                0x0000000000006020                . = ALIGN ((. != 0x0)?0x8:0x1)
+                0x0000000000006020                . = ALIGN (0x8)
+                0x0000000000004020                _end = .
+                [!provide]                        PROVIDE (end = .)
+                0x0000000000006020                . = DATA_SEGMENT_END (.)
+
+.stab
+ *(.stab)
+
+.stabstr
+ *(.stabstr)
+
+.stab.excl
+ *(.stab.excl)
+
+.stab.exclstr
+ *(.stab.exclstr)
+
+.stab.index
+ *(.stab.index)
+
+.stab.indexstr
+ *(.stab.indexstr)
+
+.comment        0x0000000000000000       0x2a
+ *(.comment)
+ .comment       0x0000000000000000       0x2a /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtbeginS.o
+                                         0x2b (size before relaxing)
+ .comment       0x000000000000002a       0x2b ropex.o
+ .comment       0x000000000000002a       0x2b /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/9/crtendS.o
+
+.gnu.build.attributes
+ *(.gnu.build.attributes .gnu.build.attributes.*)
+
+.debug
+ *(.debug)
+
+.line
+ *(.line)
+
+.debug_srcinfo
+ *(.debug_srcinfo)
+
+.debug_sfnames
+ *(.debug_sfnames)
+
+.debug_aranges  0x0000000000000000       0x30
+ *(.debug_aranges)
+ .debug_aranges
+                0x0000000000000000       0x30 ropex.o
+
+.debug_pubnames
+ *(.debug_pubnames)
+
+.debug_info     0x0000000000000000      0x49e
+ *(.debug_info .gnu.linkonce.wi.*)
+ .debug_info    0x0000000000000000      0x49e ropex.o
+
+.debug_abbrev   0x0000000000000000      0x19b
+ *(.debug_abbrev)
+ .debug_abbrev  0x0000000000000000      0x19b ropex.o
+
+.debug_line     0x0000000000000000      0x188
+ *(.debug_line .debug_line.* .debug_line_end)
+ .debug_line    0x0000000000000000      0x188 ropex.o
+
+.debug_frame    0x0000000000000000       0xa8
+ *(.debug_frame)
+ .debug_frame   0x0000000000000000       0xa8 ropex.o
+
+.debug_str      0x0000000000000000      0x2f4
+ *(.debug_str)
+ .debug_str     0x0000000000000000      0x2f4 ropex.o
+                                        0x333 (size before relaxing)
+
+.debug_loc      0x0000000000000000      0x254
+ *(.debug_loc)
+ .debug_loc     0x0000000000000000      0x254 ropex.o
+
+.debug_macinfo
+ *(.debug_macinfo)
+
+.debug_weaknames
+ *(.debug_weaknames)
+
+.debug_funcnames
+ *(.debug_funcnames)
+
+.debug_typenames
+ *(.debug_typenames)
+
+.debug_varnames
+ *(.debug_varnames)
+
+.debug_pubtypes
+ *(.debug_pubtypes)
+
+.debug_ranges
+ *(.debug_ranges)
+
+.debug_macro
+ *(.debug_macro)
+
+.debug_addr
+ *(.debug_addr)
+
+.gnu.attributes
+ *(.gnu.attributes)
+
+/DISCARD/
+ *(.note.GNU-stack)
+ *(.gnu_debuglink)
+ *(.gnu.lto_*)
+OUTPUT(ropex elf64-x86-64)
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista9/test.c b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/test.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1dae111
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/test.c
@@ -0,0 +1,7 @@
+void foobar() {}
+
+static const struct {
+  char a[3]; int b; long c; float pi;
+} baz = { "abc", 42, -3, 1.4142 };
+
+long array[100];
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/lista9/test.s b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/test.s
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5e60585
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/lista9/test.s
@@ -0,0 +1,50 @@
+	.file	"test.c"
+	.text
+	.globl	foobar
+	.type	foobar, @function
+foobar:
+.LFB0:
+	.cfi_startproc
+	endbr64
+	pushq	%rbp
+	.cfi_def_cfa_offset 16
+	.cfi_offset 6, -16
+	movq	%rsp, %rbp
+	.cfi_def_cfa_register 6
+	nop
+	popq	%rbp
+	.cfi_def_cfa 7, 8
+	ret
+	.cfi_endproc
+.LFE0:
+	.size	foobar, .-foobar
+	.section	.rodata
+	.align 16
+	.type	baz, @object
+	.size	baz, 24
+baz:
+	.ascii	"abc"
+	.zero	1
+	.long	42
+	.quad	-3
+	.long	1068827777
+	.zero	4
+	.comm	array,800,32
+	.ident	"GCC: (Ubuntu 9.3.0-17ubuntu1~20.04) 9.3.0"
+	.section	.note.GNU-stack,"",@progbits
+	.section	.note.gnu.property,"a"
+	.align 8
+	.long	 1f - 0f
+	.long	 4f - 1f
+	.long	 5
+0:
+	.string	 "GNU"
+1:
+	.align 8
+	.long	 0xc0000002
+	.long	 3f - 2f
+2:
+	.long	 0x3
+3:
+	.align 8
+4:
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/materiały/ask21-05-machine-basics.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/materiały/ask21-05-machine-basics.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ee8e221
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/materiały/ask21-05-machine-basics.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/materiały/ask21-06-machine-control.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/materiały/ask21-06-machine-control.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b847b14
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/materiały/ask21-06-machine-control.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/materiały/ask21-07-machine-procedures.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/materiały/ask21-07-machine-procedures.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..61cb028
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/materiały/ask21-07-machine-procedures.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/materiały/hackersdelight.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/materiały/hackersdelight.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9f0003f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/materiały/hackersdelight.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/materiały/x64_cheatsheet.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/materiały/x64_cheatsheet.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3133054
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/materiały/x64_cheatsheet.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/materiały/x86-64-psABI-1.0.pdf b/semestr-4/ask/materiały/x86-64-psABI-1.0.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2a5a923
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/materiały/x86-64-psABI-1.0.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/ask/zadanie1/rozw.c b/semestr-4/ask/zadanie1/rozw.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..068a268
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/ask/zadanie1/rozw.c
@@ -0,0 +1,21 @@
+#include <stdint.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+
+const uint64_t C[] = {
+    0x5555555555555555LL,
+    0x3333333333333333LL,
+    0x0f0f0f0f0f0f0f0fLL,
+    0x00ff00ff00ff00ffLL,
+    0x0000ffff0000ffffLL,
+    0x00000000ffffffffLL
+};
+
+uint64_t revbits(uint64_t x) {
+    x = ((x & C[0]) << 1) | ((x >> 1) & C[0]);
+    x = ((x & C[1]) << 2) | ((x >> 2) & C[1]);
+    x = ((x & C[2]) << 4) | ((x >> 4) & C[2]);
+    x = ((x & C[3]) << 8) | ((x >> 8) & C[3]);
+    x = ((x & C[4]) << 16) | ((x >> 16) & C[4]);
+    x = ((x & C[5]) << 32) | ((x >> 32) & C[5]);
+    return x;
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/1_franciszek.malinka.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/1_franciszek.malinka.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..29cae7e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/1_franciszek.malinka.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/2_franciszek.malinka.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/2_franciszek.malinka.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..53288f5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/2_franciszek.malinka.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/3_franciszek.malinka.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/3_franciszek.malinka.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9fb9368
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/3_franciszek.malinka.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/4_franciszek.malinka.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/4_franciszek.malinka.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..250fb4b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/4_franciszek.malinka.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/5_franciszek.malinka.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/5_franciszek.malinka.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6483bff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/5_franciszek.malinka.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/6_franciszek.malinka.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/6_franciszek.malinka.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d3e783c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/6_franciszek.malinka.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad1a.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad1a.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5ab2a5a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad1a.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad1b.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad1b.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df7b7a4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad1b.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad2a.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad2a.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8e89cb0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad2a.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad2b.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad2b.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b77e8ed
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad2b.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad4a.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad4a.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b24f943
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad4a.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad4b.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad4b.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a18bf03
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad4b.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad5a.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad5a.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..808f372
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad5a.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad5b.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad5b.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..02524a5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/egzam/zad5b.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/kol1/FranciszekMalinkaKolokwium1.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol1/FranciszekMalinkaKolokwium1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..82c38f7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol1/FranciszekMalinkaKolokwium1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/wszystko.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/wszystko.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b183784
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/wszystko.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad1.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d58bae8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad2.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8288fb3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad4.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad4.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99e3e9a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad4.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad5.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad5.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..25328e2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad5.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad6.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad6.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4f01f81
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/kol2/zad6.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista1/L1Z4.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista1/L1Z4.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6fe5c29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista1/L1Z4.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista1/RP1R_01.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista1/RP1R_01.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ecce64c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista1/RP1R_01.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista10/L10.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista10/L10.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..abe2ff9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista10/L10.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista10/RP1R_10.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista10/RP1R_10.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..26374ca
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista10/RP1R_10.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista11/L11_3.png b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista11/L11_3.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b618ebc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista11/L11_3.png
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista11/RP1R_11.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista11/RP1R_11.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f0f54bd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista11/RP1R_11.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista2/L2Z11.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista2/L2Z11.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bf6f8d3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista2/L2Z11.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista2/RP1R_02.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista2/RP1R_02.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1deaa87
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista2/RP1R_02.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista3/L3Z4.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista3/L3Z4.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..59a2004
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista3/L3Z4.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista3/RP1R_03.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista3/RP1R_03.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..164c2cd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista3/RP1R_03.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista4/L4Z15.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista4/L4Z15.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4aaed16
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista4/L4Z15.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista4/RP1R_04.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista4/RP1R_04.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a093a1b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista4/RP1R_04.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista5/L5Z12.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista5/L5Z12.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7d0d438
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista5/L5Z12.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista5/RP1R_05.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista5/RP1R_05.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6ba1d4c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista5/RP1R_05.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista6/L6Z13.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista6/L6Z13.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bb2f02d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista6/L6Z13.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista6/RP1R_06.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista6/RP1R_06.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d2297f2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista6/RP1R_06.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista7/RP1R_07.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista7/RP1R_07.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f159bf0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista7/RP1R_07.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista8/RP1R_08.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista8/RP1R_08.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6a5140e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista8/RP1R_08.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista9/RP1R_09.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista9/RP1R_09.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5baaf9f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista9/RP1R_09.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/lista9/l9z3.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista9/l9z3.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..784523f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/lista9/l9z3.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 1.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d04dccd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 10.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 10.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1224e18
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 10.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 11.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 11.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c5611dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 11.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 12.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 12.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a7572be
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 12.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 13.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 13.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b56c01f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 13.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 14.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 14.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c7aa593
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 14.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 15.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 15.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..61b2117
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 15.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 2.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df38730
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 3.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 3.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..32e902d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 3.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 4.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 4.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a368c05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 4.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 5.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 5.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7085970
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 5.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 6.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 6.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a011254
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 6.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 7.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 7.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..60156c8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 7.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 8.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 8.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a635d14
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 8.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 9.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 9.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5c0e798
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/Wyklad 9.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/ask21-merged.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/ask21-merged.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..64a0d16
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/ask21-merged.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/merge.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/merge.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cb41f73
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/merge.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/merged.pdf b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/merged.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f88e437
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/pstwo/wyklady/merged.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/kol1/kol1.xopp b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol1/kol1.xopp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b7bd15e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol1/kol1.xopp
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/kol1/zad1.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol1/zad1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f142b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol1/zad1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/kol1/zad2.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol1/zad2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7ca8b4a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol1/zad2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/kol1/zad3.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol1/zad3.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9fd9835
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol1/zad3.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/kol2/rozw.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol2/rozw.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8e8bd0f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol2/rozw.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/kol2/zad1.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol2/zad1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e299f4e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol2/zad1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/kol2/zad2.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol2/zad2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5272b66
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol2/zad2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/kol2/zad3.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol2/zad3.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8443ab9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/kol2/zad3.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista1/L1Z3.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista1/L1Z3.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5646667
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista1/L1Z3.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista1/RR1R-01.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista1/RR1R-01.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..464de00
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista1/RR1R-01.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista10/Notepad2.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista10/Notepad2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..166e2fe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista10/Notepad2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista10/RR1R-10.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista10/RR1R-10.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9df519f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista10/RR1R-10.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista11/l11z9.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista11/l11z9.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d64cb0c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista11/l11z9.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista11/s1.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista11/s1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a8cc9db
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista11/s1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista11/s2.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista11/s2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..efa976d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista11/s2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista11/s3.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista11/s3.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1b363a5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista11/s3.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista2/L2Z4.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista2/L2Z4.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bfa182a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista2/L2Z4.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista2/L2Z9.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista2/L2Z9.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0f3675c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista2/L2Z9.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista2/RR1R-02.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista2/RR1R-02.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7d1a845
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista2/RR1R-02.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista3/RR1R-03.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista3/RR1R-03.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..22c3214
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista3/RR1R-03.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista4/RR1R-04.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista4/RR1R-04.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4dfc8c3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista4/RR1R-04.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista5/RR1R-05.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista5/RR1R-05.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7dfa8d2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista5/RR1R-05.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista6/RR1R-06.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista6/RR1R-06.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..596bb38
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista6/RR1R-06.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista7/RR1R-07.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista7/RR1R-07.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7a6c6e1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista7/RR1R-07.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista8/L8.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista8/L8.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..174c6f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista8/L8.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista8/RR1R-08.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista8/RR1R-08.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4e39081
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista8/RR1R-08.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/rr1r/lista9/RR1R-09.pdf b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista9/RR1R-09.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..44191db
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/rr1r/lista9/RR1R-09.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia1/c1.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia1/c1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ace2fa7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia1/c1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia1/cw1.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia1/cw1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d217892
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia1/cw1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia1/out.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia1/out.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ea7781d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia1/out.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia1/rozw.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia1/rozw.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f2d1a62
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia1/rozw.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia2/.cpp.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia2/.cpp.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9938f8b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia2/.cpp.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,41 @@
+#include<bits/stdc++.h>

+#define fi first

+#define se second

+using namespace std;

+const int N=1e5;

+vector<int> e[N+10];

+int g[N+10];

+int dfs(int x,int k)

+{

+	int ans=0;

+	g[x]=0;

+	for(auto v:e[x])

+	{

+		ans+=dfs(v,k);

+		if(g[v]+1==k)

+		{

+			if(x!=1)

+				ans++;

+			g[v]=-1;

+		}

+		g[x]=max(g[x],g[v]+1);

+	}

+	return ans;

+}

+int main()

+{

+	ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);

+	cin.tie(NULL);

+	cout.tie(NULL);

+	int n,k;

+	cin>>n>>k;

+	for(int i=1;i<n;i++)

+	{

+		int a,b;

+		cin>>a>>b;

+		e[b].push_back(a);

+	}

+	cout<<dfs(1,k)<<"\n";

+	return 0;

+}

+

diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia2/c2.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia2/c2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3216f6f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/cwiczenia2/c2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia1/makefile b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia1/makefile
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c48d74
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia1/makefile
@@ -0,0 +1,19 @@
+CC=gcc
+CFLAGS=-std=gnu17 -O2 -Wall -Wextra
+TARGET=traceroute
+
+all: $(TARGET)
+
+$(TARGET): $(TARGET).o
+	$(CC) -o $(TARGET) $(TARGET).o 
+
+
+$(TARGET).o: $(TARGET).c
+	$(CC) $(CFLAGS) -c $(TARGET).c
+
+distclean:
+	$(RM) $(TARGET)
+	$(RM) $(TARGET).o
+
+clean:
+	$(RM) $(TARGET).o
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia1/p1.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia1/p1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4b06555
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia1/p1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia1/traceroute.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia1/traceroute.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0e51c14
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia1/traceroute.c
@@ -0,0 +1,240 @@
+/* Pracownia programistyczna nr 1 - traceroute
+ * Imię i nazwisko: Franciszek Malinka
+ * Nr indeksu:      316093
+ */
+
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <errno.h>
+#include <netinet/ip.h>
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <strings.h>
+#include <string.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <netinet/ip_icmp.h>
+#include <assert.h>
+#include <time.h>
+#include <sys/types.h>
+#include <unistd.h>
+#include <stdbool.h>
+
+#define MAX_TTL 30
+#define MESSAGES_PER_TTL 3
+#define NO_MESSAGES -1
+#define TOO_FEW_MESSAGES -2137
+
+void print_as_bytes (unsigned char* buff, ssize_t length)
+{
+	for (ssize_t i = 0; i < length; i++, buff++)
+		printf ("%.2x ", *buff);	
+}
+
+void debug_received(uint8_t *buffer, struct sockaddr_in *sender, int packet_len) {
+    char ip_str[20];
+    inet_ntop(AF_INET, &(sender->sin_addr), ip_str, sizeof(ip_str));
+
+    printf("IP packet with ICMP content from: %s\n", ip_str);
+    struct ip*  ip_header = (struct ip*) buffer;
+    ssize_t     ip_header_len = 4 * ip_header->ip_hl;
+
+    printf ("IP header: "); 
+    print_as_bytes (buffer, ip_header_len);
+    printf("\n");
+
+    printf ("IP data:   ");
+    print_as_bytes (buffer + ip_header_len, packet_len - ip_header_len);
+    printf("\n\n");
+}
+
+struct sockaddr_in get_sockaddr_from_ip(char *ip) {
+    struct sockaddr_in sock;
+    bzero(&sock, sizeof(sock));
+    sock.sin_family = AF_INET;
+    if (!inet_pton(AF_INET, ip, &sock.sin_addr)) {
+        fprintf(stderr, "Given ip is invalid: %s\n", ip);
+        exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+    }
+    return sock;
+}
+
+int create_raw_icmp_socket() {
+    int sockfd = socket(AF_INET, SOCK_RAW, IPPROTO_ICMP);
+    if (sockfd < 0) {
+        fprintf(stderr, "socket error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+        exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+    }
+    return sockfd;
+}
+
+uint16_t compute_icmp_checksum(const void *buff, int length)
+{
+	uint32_t sum;
+	const uint16_t* ptr = buff;
+	assert (length % 2 == 0);
+	for (sum = 0; length > 0; length -= 2)
+		sum += *ptr++;
+	sum = (sum >> 16) + (sum & 0xffff);
+	return (uint16_t)(~(sum + (sum >> 16)));
+}
+
+struct icmp create_icmp_header(uint16_t seq) {    
+    struct icmp header;
+    header.icmp_type = ICMP_ECHO;
+    header.icmp_code = 0;
+    header.icmp_id = (uint16_t)getpid();
+    header.icmp_seq = seq;
+    header.icmp_cksum = 0;
+    header.icmp_cksum = compute_icmp_checksum(
+        (uint16_t*)&header, sizeof(header));
+
+    return header;
+}
+
+void send_icmp_packet(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in *destination, int ttl) {
+    struct icmp header = create_icmp_header(ttl);
+    setsockopt(sockfd, IPPROTO_IP, IP_TTL, &ttl, sizeof(int));
+
+    ssize_t bytes_sent = sendto(
+        sockfd,
+        &header,
+        sizeof(header),
+        0,
+        (struct sockaddr*)destination,
+        sizeof(*destination)
+    );
+    if (bytes_sent == -1) {
+        fprintf(stderr, "Error while sending ICMP packet: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+        exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+    }
+}
+
+/* Return ip address of the sender of recceived package */
+ssize_t recv_packet(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in *sender, uint8_t *buffer) {
+    socklen_t sender_len = sizeof(*sender);
+    ssize_t packet_len = recvfrom(sockfd, buffer, IP_MAXPACKET, 0,
+        (struct sockaddr*)sender, &sender_len);
+    
+    if (packet_len == -1) {
+        fprintf(stderr, "Error while recieving a packet: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+        exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+    }
+    return packet_len;
+}
+
+void send_icmp_requests(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in *destination, int ttl, int tries) {
+    for (int i = 0; i < tries; i++) {
+        send_icmp_packet(sockfd, destination, ttl);
+    }
+}
+
+int try_select(int sockfd, struct timeval *tv) {
+    fd_set descriptors;
+    FD_ZERO(&descriptors);
+    FD_SET(sockfd, &descriptors);
+    return select(sockfd+1, &descriptors, NULL, NULL, tv);
+}
+
+void pretty_print_router(int ttl, struct in_addr *senders, float mean_wait_time, int messages_received) {
+    char ip_str[20];
+    printf("%d.\t", ttl);
+    if (messages_received == 0) {
+        printf("*\n");
+    }
+    else {
+        for (int i = 0; i < messages_received; i++) {
+            bool already_printed = false;
+            for (int j = 0; j < i; j++) {
+                if (senders[i].s_addr == senders[j].s_addr) {
+                    already_printed = true;
+                    break;
+                }
+            }
+            if (already_printed) continue;
+            inet_ntop(AF_INET, senders + i, ip_str, sizeof(ip_str));
+            printf("%-15s ", ip_str);
+        }
+        if (messages_received < MESSAGES_PER_TTL)   printf("\t???\n");
+        else                                        printf("\t%.2fms\n", mean_wait_time);
+    }
+}
+
+// This function decapsulates important data from the IMCP replies
+void get_important_data(uint8_t *buffer, uint8_t *code, uint16_t *id, uint16_t *seq) {
+    struct ip*      ip_header = (struct ip*) buffer;
+    ssize_t         offset = 4 * ip_header->ip_hl;
+    *code = ((struct icmp *)(buffer + offset))->icmp_type;
+    if (*code != ICMP_ECHOREPLY && *code != ICMP_TIMXCEED) {
+        return;
+    } else if (*code == ICMP_TIMXCEED) {
+        offset  += ICMP_MINLEN;
+        offset  += 4 * ((struct ip *)(buffer + offset))->ip_hl;
+        *seq    = ((struct icmp *)(buffer + offset))->icmp_seq;
+        *id     = ((struct icmp *)(buffer + offset))->icmp_id;
+    } else {
+        *seq = ((struct icmp *)(buffer + offset))->icmp_seq;
+        *id = ((struct icmp *)(buffer + offset))->icmp_id;
+    }
+}
+
+// timeout in milliseconds
+float get_replies(int sockfd, long timeout, int ttl, int *messages_received, struct in_addr *senders) {
+    struct sockaddr_in  sender;
+    uint8_t             buffer[IP_MAXPACKET];
+    int                 ready;
+    long                mean_wait_time = 0;
+    struct timeval      tv; tv.tv_sec = timeout / 1000; tv.tv_usec = 0;
+    *messages_received = 0;
+
+    while ((ready = try_select(sockfd, &tv))) {
+        if (ready < 0) {
+            fprintf(stderr, "Select error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+            exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+        }
+
+        recv_packet(sockfd, &sender, buffer);
+        uint8_t         icmp_code = 0;
+        uint16_t        seq = 0, id = 0;
+
+        get_important_data(buffer, &icmp_code, &id, &seq);
+        if (seq == ttl) {
+            senders[(*messages_received)++] = sender.sin_addr;
+            mean_wait_time += timeout * 1000 - tv.tv_usec;
+            
+            if (*messages_received == MESSAGES_PER_TTL) break;
+        }
+    }
+    // changing from microseconds to miliseconds
+    return (float)mean_wait_time / 3.0 / 1000.0;
+}
+
+// Core of the program.
+void traceroute(struct sockaddr_in *destination) {
+    int sockfd = create_raw_icmp_socket(), messages_received = 0;
+    struct in_addr senders[MESSAGES_PER_TTL];
+
+    for (int ttl = 1; ttl <= MAX_TTL; ++ttl) {
+        send_icmp_requests(sockfd, destination, ttl, MESSAGES_PER_TTL);
+        float mean_wait_time = get_replies(sockfd, 1000, ttl, &messages_received, senders);
+        pretty_print_router(ttl, senders, mean_wait_time, messages_received);
+
+        // what if our packet branched and we got to the destination faster by some path? 
+        // we gotta make a loop, not an if
+        for (int i = 0; i < messages_received; i++) {
+            if (senders[i].s_addr == destination->sin_addr.s_addr) {
+                return;
+            }
+        }
+    }
+}     
+
+int main(int argc, char * argv[]) {
+    if (argc < 2) {
+        fprintf(stderr, "Usage:\n\t%s [host ip]\n", argv[0]);
+        return 1;
+    }
+
+    struct sockaddr_in destination = get_sockaddr_from_ip(argv[1]);
+    fprintf(stdout, "traceroute to %s, %d hops max\n", argv[1], MAX_TTL);
+    traceroute(&destination);
+
+    return 0;
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka.tar.xz b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka.tar.xz
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ac3b1f7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka.tar.xz
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/config.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/config.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ee4eac0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/config.h
@@ -0,0 +1,15 @@
+#ifndef CONFIG_H
+#define CONFIG_H
+
+#define SERVER_PORT 54321
+#define TURN_LEN_S 20
+
+#define INFINITY_DIST 16
+#define REACHABILITY_WAIT_TIME 3
+
+#define DV_DATAGRAM_LEN 9
+
+#define TURN_LEN_MS (1000 * TURN_LEN_S)
+#define TURN_LEN_US (1000000 * TURN_LEN_S)
+
+#endif
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/dist_vector.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/dist_vector.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..74ae82e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/dist_vector.c
@@ -0,0 +1,114 @@
+/*
+ *  Program:  router
+ *  Autor:    Franciszek Malinka, 316093
+ */
+
+#include "dist_vector.h"
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <time.h>
+#include <string.h>
+
+bool is_connected_directly(struct vector_item item) {
+  return item.is_connected_directly;
+}
+
+bool is_reachable(struct vector_item item) {
+  return (item.distance < INFINITY_DIST);
+}
+
+void init_dv(list_t *dv, int n_cnt, struct network_addr *neighbours) {
+  for (int i = 0; i < n_cnt; i++) {
+    struct vector_item new_item;
+    new_item.network = neighbours[i];
+    new_item.distance = INFINITY_DIST;
+    new_item.is_connected_directly = true;
+    insert(dv, &new_item, sizeof(new_item));
+  }
+}
+
+void update_dv_reachability(list_t *distance_vector) {
+  reset(distance_vector);
+  while (distance_vector->it != NULL) {
+    struct vector_item *current = (struct vector_item *)distance_vector->it->data;
+    if(++current->reachable > REACHABILITY_WAIT_TIME) {
+      if (current->distance >= INFINITY_DIST) {
+        if (!is_connected_directly(*current)) {
+          erase_it(distance_vector);
+        }
+      } else {
+        current->distance = INFINITY_DIST;
+        current->reachable = 0;
+      }
+    }
+    iterate(distance_vector);
+  }
+}
+
+void update_dv_new_item(list_t *distance_vector, struct vector_item new_item) {
+  bool new_entry = true;
+  reset(distance_vector);
+  while (distance_vector->it != NULL) {
+    struct vector_item *current = (struct vector_item *)distance_vector->it->data;
+
+    /* If the network is already in the distance vector, then we possibly want to change it:
+     *  - if the new item has better distance than the previous one, then we just want to change it no matter what,
+     *  - if the new item has the same via ip, then we want to check two things:
+     *     - if new item has infinity dist, then we want to set infinity (if it wasn't set, then we want to change reachable to 0)
+     *     - if new item has < inf dist, then we want to change reachable to 0 and set our dist accordingly.
+     *  - else we ignore the entry.
+     */
+    if (get_network_address(current->network).s_addr == get_network_address(new_item.network).s_addr) {
+      if (current->distance > new_item.distance) {
+        *current = new_item;
+        current->reachable = 0;
+      } else if(current->via_ip.s_addr == new_item.via_ip.s_addr) {
+        if (new_item.distance >= INFINITY_DIST) {
+          if (current->distance < INFINITY_DIST) {
+            current->distance = INFINITY_DIST;
+            current->reachable = 0;
+          }
+        } else {
+          current->distance = new_item.distance;
+          current->reachable = 0;
+        }
+      }
+      new_entry = false;
+    }
+
+    iterate(distance_vector);
+  }
+
+  if (new_entry && new_item.reachable < INFINITY_DIST) {
+    insert(distance_vector, &new_item, sizeof(new_item));
+  }
+}
+
+void print_dv(list_t *distance_vector) {
+  time_t rawtime;
+  struct tm * timeinfo;
+
+  time ( &rawtime );
+  timeinfo = localtime ( &rawtime );
+  char t[100];
+  strcpy(t, asctime(timeinfo));
+  t[strlen(t) - 1] = 0;
+  printf("Distance vector [%s]:\n", t);
+  reset(distance_vector);
+  while (distance_vector->it != NULL) {
+    char addr[20], via_addr[20];
+    struct vector_item current  = *(struct vector_item *)distance_vector->it->data;
+    struct in_addr net_addr     = get_network_address(current.network);
+    inet_ntop(AF_INET, &net_addr, addr, sizeof(addr));
+    printf("%s/%d ", addr, current.network.netmask);
+    
+    if (is_reachable(current))          printf("distance %d ", current.distance);
+    else                                printf("unreachable ");
+
+    inet_ntop(AF_INET, &current.via_ip, via_addr, sizeof(via_addr));
+    if (is_connected_directly(current)) printf("connected directly\n");
+    else                                printf("via %s\n", via_addr);
+
+    iterate(distance_vector);
+  }
+  printf("\n");
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/dist_vector.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/dist_vector.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..14159b4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/dist_vector.h
@@ -0,0 +1,36 @@
+#ifndef DIST_VECTOR_H
+#define DIST_VECTOR_H
+
+#include "linked_list.h"
+#include "network_addr.h"
+#include "config.h"
+
+/* Item of the distance vector. 
+ * If <<reachable>> is set to 0, then it means that the network is reachable.
+ * If <<reachable>> has positive value, then it indicates that the network was
+ * unreachable for <<reachable>> turns.
+ */
+struct vector_item {
+  struct network_addr network;
+  struct in_addr      via_ip;
+  uint16_t            distance;
+  uint8_t             reachable;
+  bool                is_connected_directly;
+};
+
+/* Initis distance vector with given neighbours array. */
+void init_dv(list_t *dv, int n_cnt, struct network_addr *neighbours);
+
+/* Returns true if given distance vector item is connected directly, false otherwise. */
+bool is_connected_directly(struct vector_item item);
+
+/* Updates the distance vector. */
+void update_dv_new_item(list_t *distance_vector, struct vector_item new_item);
+
+/* Updates reachabilities. */
+void update_dv_reachability(list_t *distance_vector);
+
+/* Print distance vector. */
+void print_dv(list_t *distance_vector);
+
+#endif
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/linked_list.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/linked_list.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..16113ac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/linked_list.c
@@ -0,0 +1,79 @@
+/*
+ *  Program:  router
+ *  Autor:    Franciszek Malinka, 316093
+ */
+
+#include "linked_list.h"
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+
+node_t *_next(node_t *node) {
+  return (node == NULL) ? NULL : node->next;
+}
+
+void _insert(node_t **head, void *data, size_t data_size) {
+  node_t *new_node = (node_t *)malloc(sizeof(node_t));
+  new_node->data = malloc(data_size);  
+  for (int i = 0; i < data_size; i++)
+    *(uint8_t *)(new_node->data + i) = *(uint8_t *)(data + i);
+  new_node->next = *head;
+  *head = new_node;
+}
+
+void _free_node(node_t *node) {
+  free(node->data);
+  free(node);
+}
+
+void _erase(node_t **head) {
+  node_t *next_node = _next(*head);
+  _free_node(*head);
+  *head = next_node;
+}
+
+void _free_list(node_t *head) {
+  if (head == NULL) return;
+  _free_list(head->next);
+  _free_node(head);
+}
+
+list_t create_list() {
+  list_t ret;
+  ret.head = NULL;
+  ret.it = NULL;
+  return ret;
+}
+
+void insert(list_t *list, void *data, size_t data_size) {
+  _insert(&list->head, data, data_size);
+}
+
+void erase(list_t *list) {
+  _erase(&list->head);
+}
+
+void erase_it(list_t *list) {
+  if(list->it == NULL) return;
+  if(list->prev_it == NULL) {
+    erase(list);
+    reset(list);
+    return;
+  }
+  list->prev_it->next = _next(list->it);
+  _free_node(list->it);
+  list->it = list->prev_it->next;
+}
+
+void iterate(list_t *list) {
+  list->prev_it = list->it;
+  list->it = _next(list->it);
+}
+
+void reset(list_t *list) {
+  list->prev_it = NULL;
+  list->it = list->head;
+}
+
+void free_list(list_t *list) {
+  _free_list(list->head);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/linked_list.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/linked_list.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1574b2f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/linked_list.h
@@ -0,0 +1,42 @@
+#ifndef LINKED_LIST_H
+#define LINKED_LIST_H
+
+#include <stddef.h>
+
+typedef struct node {
+  void *data;
+  struct node *next;
+} node_t;
+
+
+typedef struct list_t {
+  node_t *head;
+  node_t *it;
+  node_t *prev_it;
+} list_t;
+
+/* Creates an empty list. */
+list_t create_list();
+
+/* Insert a new node in the begining of a list. */
+void insert(list_t *list, void *data, size_t data_size);
+
+/* Erases first node from the list. */
+void erase(list_t *list);
+
+/* Erases element under iterator and sets iterator to the next one. */
+void erase_it(list_t *list);
+
+/* Moves iterator one step. */
+void iterate(list_t *list);
+
+/* Resets the iterator. 
+ * Should execute the function after if you want to itarate unless you didnt insert or erase anything from the list. 
+ */
+void reset(list_t *list);
+
+/* Deletes the whole list. */
+void free_list(list_t *list);
+
+
+#endif
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/makefile b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/makefile
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bf6a327
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/makefile
@@ -0,0 +1,34 @@
+CC		:= gcc
+CFLAGS		:= -O2 -std=gnu17 -Wall -Wall -Wno-unused-result
+TARGET		:= router
+TEST		:= test
+DEPS		:= config.h
+
+ODIR		:= obj
+_OBJ		:= router.o utils.o linked_list.o network_addr.o dist_vector.o
+OBJ		:= $(patsubst %,$(ODIR)/%,$(_OBJ))
+
+_TEST_OBJ := test.o linked_list.o
+TEST_OBJ  := $(patsubst %,$(ODIR)/%,$(_TEST_OBJ))
+
+
+all: $(TARGET)
+test: $(TEST)
+
+$(ODIR)/%.o: %.c $(DEPS)
+	$(CC) $(CFLAGS) -c -o $@ $<
+
+$(TARGET): $(OBJ)
+	$(CC) -o $@ $^ $(CFLAGS)
+
+$(TEST): $(TEST_OBJ)
+	$(CC) -o $@ $^ $(CFLAGS)
+
+clean:
+	rm -rf $(TARGET)
+	rm -rf test
+
+distclean:
+	rm -rf $(TARGET)
+	rm -rf test
+	rm -rf $(ODIR)/*.o
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/network_addr.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/network_addr.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cac1060
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/network_addr.c
@@ -0,0 +1,65 @@
+/*
+ *  Program:  router
+ *  Autor:    Franciszek Malinka, 316093
+ */
+
+#include "network_addr.h"
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <string.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+
+struct in_addr _get_broadcast_address(struct in_addr addr, uint16_t netmask) {
+  struct in_addr result = addr;
+  result.s_addr = ntohl(result.s_addr);
+  /* bitshift by more than 31 is UB */
+  if (netmask == 0) {
+    result.s_addr = -1;
+  }
+  else {
+    result.s_addr |= ((1 << (32 - netmask)) - 1);
+  }
+  result.s_addr = htonl(result.s_addr);
+
+  return result;
+}
+
+struct in_addr _get_network_address(struct in_addr addr, uint16_t netmask) {
+  struct in_addr result = addr;
+  result.s_addr = ntohl(result.s_addr);
+
+  if (netmask == 0) {
+    result.s_addr = 0;
+  }
+  else {
+    result.s_addr &= ~((1 << (32 - netmask)) - 1);
+  }
+  result.s_addr = htonl(result.s_addr);
+
+  return result;
+}
+
+struct in_addr get_broadcast_address(struct network_addr na) {
+  return _get_broadcast_address(na.addr, na.netmask);
+}
+
+struct in_addr get_network_address(struct network_addr na) {
+  return _get_network_address(na.addr, na.netmask);
+}
+
+void pretty_print_network(struct network_addr na) {
+  char ip_addr[20];
+  inet_ntop(AF_INET, &na.addr, ip_addr, sizeof(ip_addr));
+  printf("%s/%d\n", ip_addr, na.netmask);
+}
+
+struct network_addr stona(char *str) {
+  struct network_addr  result;
+  char                addr[20];
+  size_t              ip_preffix = strcspn(str, "/");
+  
+  strncpy(addr, str, ip_preffix);
+  addr[ip_preffix] = 0;
+  inet_pton(AF_INET, addr, &(result.addr));
+  result.netmask = atoi(str + ip_preffix + 1);
+  return result;
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/network_addr.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/network_addr.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6347bbd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/network_addr.h
@@ -0,0 +1,28 @@
+#ifndef ROUTER_ADDR_H
+#define ROUTER_ADDR_H
+
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+#include <stdbool.h>
+
+/* Network address with netmask. */
+struct network_addr {
+  struct in_addr  addr;
+  uint8_t         netmask;
+};
+
+typedef struct network_addr router_addr;
+
+/* Returns broadcast address of a given network. */
+struct in_addr get_broadcast_address(struct network_addr na);
+
+/* Returns network address of a given network. */
+struct in_addr get_network_address(struct network_addr na);
+
+/* Prints network_addr via stdio. */
+void pretty_print_network(struct network_addr na);
+
+/* Converts string of ip in CIDR notation with a netmask to network_addr. */
+struct network_addr stona(char *str);
+
+#endif
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/router.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/router.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b5e732c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/router.c
@@ -0,0 +1,60 @@
+/*
+ *  Program:  router
+ *  Autor:    Franciszek Malinka, 316093
+ */
+
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <errno.h>
+#include <strings.h>
+#include <string.h>
+#include <netinet/ip.h>
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <unistd.h>
+#include <limits.h>
+#include "network_addr.h"
+#include "utils.h"
+#include "dist_vector.h"
+
+uint16_t read_configuration(struct network_addr** networks, uint16_t **dists) {
+  uint16_t n;
+  scanf("%hd", &n);
+  *networks = malloc(n * sizeof(struct network_addr));
+  *dists    = malloc(n * sizeof(uint16_t));
+  for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+    char addr[20];
+    char _dist[10];
+    uint16_t dist;
+    scanf(" %s %s %hd", addr, _dist, &dist);
+    (*networks)[i] = stona(addr);
+    (*dists)[i] = dist;
+  }
+  return n;
+}
+
+void router_loop(int sockfd, int networks_number, struct network_addr *networks, uint16_t *dists) {
+  list_t dv = create_list();
+  init_dv(&dv, networks_number, networks);
+
+  printf("Starting the router loop...\n");
+  for (;;) {
+    print_dv(&dv);
+    propagate_distance_vector(sockfd, networks_number, networks, dists, &dv);
+    listen_for_routers(sockfd, TURN_LEN_MS, networks_number, networks, dists, &dv);
+  }
+}
+
+int main() {
+  struct network_addr* networks;
+  uint16_t *dists;
+  int n = read_configuration(&networks, &dists);
+  int sockfd = get_socket();
+  bind_to_port(sockfd, SERVER_PORT);
+
+  router_loop(sockfd, n, networks, dists);
+
+  close(sockfd);
+  free(networks);
+  free(dists);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/test.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/test.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..958ff36
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/test.c
@@ -0,0 +1,52 @@
+/*
+ *  Program:  router
+ *  Autor:    Franciszek Malinka, 316093
+ */
+
+#include "linked_list.h"
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+
+/* Prints the list of ints to stdio */
+void print_list(list_t list) {
+  printf("List: ");
+  reset(&list);
+  while (list.it != NULL) {
+    printf("%d, ", *(int *)(list.it->data));
+    iterate(&list);
+  }
+  printf("\n");
+  reset(&list);
+}
+
+int main() {
+  int n;
+  scanf("%d", &n);
+  list_t list = create_list();
+
+  for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+    int t;
+    scanf("%d", &t);
+    // insert
+    if (t == 0) {
+      int val = 0;
+      scanf("%d", &val);
+      insert(&list, &val, sizeof(int));
+      reset(&list);
+    }
+    if (t == 1) {
+      iterate(&list);
+      if (list.it != NULL)
+        printf("it: %d\n", *(int *)list.it->data);
+      else printf("End of list.\n");
+    }
+    if (t == 2) {
+      erase_it(&list);
+    }
+    if (t == 3) {
+      print_list(list);
+    }
+  }
+
+  free_list(&list);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/utils.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/utils.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0c0cae5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/utils.c
@@ -0,0 +1,208 @@
+/*
+ *  Program:  router
+ *  Autor:    Franciszek Malinka, 316093
+ */
+
+#include "utils.h"
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <netinet/ip.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <errno.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <string.h>
+#include <limits.h>
+
+int get_socket() {
+  int sockfd = socket(AF_INET, SOCK_DGRAM, 0);
+  if (sockfd < 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Socket error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  return sockfd;
+}
+
+void bind_to_port(int sockfd, uint16_t port) {
+  struct sockaddr_in server_address;
+  bzero(&server_address, sizeof(server_address));
+  server_address.sin_family       = AF_INET;
+  server_address.sin_port         = htons(port);
+  server_address.sin_addr.s_addr  = htonl(INADDR_ANY);
+  
+  if (bind(sockfd, (struct sockaddr*)&server_address, sizeof(server_address)) < 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Bind error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  
+  int broadcastPermission = 1;
+  setsockopt (sockfd, SOL_SOCKET, SO_BROADCAST, (void *)&broadcastPermission, sizeof(broadcastPermission));
+}
+
+long get_time_interval(struct timespec start, struct timespec finish) {
+  return S_TO_MS(finish.tv_sec - start.tv_sec) + NS_TO_MS(finish.tv_nsec - start.tv_nsec);
+}
+
+int poll_socket_modify_timeout(int sockfd, int *timeout) {
+  if (*timeout < 0) {
+    *timeout = 0;
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  struct pollfd fds;
+  struct timespec start;
+  struct timespec finish;
+  
+  fds.fd = sockfd;
+  fds.events = POLLIN;
+  fds.revents = 0;
+  
+  clock_gettime(CLOCK_REALTIME, &start);
+  int result = poll(&fds, 1, *timeout);
+  clock_gettime(CLOCK_REALTIME, &finish);
+  
+  if (result == -1) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "poll error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  if (result == 0) {
+    *timeout = 0;
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  *timeout -= get_time_interval(start, finish);
+  return result;
+}   
+
+size_t send_message(int sockfd, char *buffer, int buffer_len, struct in_addr network) {
+  struct sockaddr_in network_address;
+  bzero (&network_address, sizeof(network_address));
+  network_address.sin_family       = AF_INET;
+  network_address.sin_port         = htons(SERVER_PORT);
+  network_address.sin_addr         = network;
+  
+  return sendto(sockfd, buffer, buffer_len, 0, (struct sockaddr*) &network_address, sizeof(network_address));
+}
+
+size_t recv_message(int sockfd, char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in *sender) {
+  socklen_t sender_len = sizeof(*sender);
+  for (int i = 0; i < DV_DATAGRAM_LEN; i++) buffer[i] = 0;
+  size_t datagram_len = recvfrom(sockfd, buffer, IP_MAXPACKET, 0,
+    (struct sockaddr*)sender, &sender_len);
+  if (datagram_len < 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "recvfrom error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  
+  return datagram_len;
+}
+
+struct vector_item parse_message(char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in *sender) {
+  struct vector_item res;
+  uint32_t ip_addr  = *(uint32_t *)buffer;
+  uint32_t dist     = *(uint32_t *)(buffer + 5);
+  dist              = ntohl(dist);
+
+  res.network.addr.s_addr   = ip_addr;
+  res.network.netmask       = buffer[4];
+  res.is_connected_directly = true;
+  res.via_ip                = sender->sin_addr;
+  res.distance              = (dist < INFINITY_DIST ? dist : INFINITY_DIST);
+  res.reachable             = 0;
+
+  char addr[20];
+  inet_ntop(AF_INET, &res.network.addr, addr, sizeof(addr));
+  char via[20];
+  inet_ntop(AF_INET, &sender->sin_addr, via, sizeof(via));
+  return res;
+}
+
+void _get_message(struct vector_item item, char *message) {
+  *(uint32_t *)message  = item.network.addr.s_addr;
+  message[4]            = item.network.netmask;
+  uint32_t distance     = htonl(item.distance >= INFINITY_DIST ? INT_MAX : item.distance);
+  for (int i = 0; i < 4; i++) {
+    *(message + 5 + i) = *((char *)(&distance) + i); 
+  }
+}
+
+int _send_item(int sockfd, struct network_addr network, struct vector_item item) {
+  char message[DV_DATAGRAM_LEN + 1];
+  _get_message(item, message);
+  message[DV_DATAGRAM_LEN] = 0;
+  ssize_t message_len = DV_DATAGRAM_LEN;
+
+  struct in_addr na = get_broadcast_address(network);
+  
+  char addr[20];
+  inet_ntop(AF_INET, &na, addr, sizeof(addr));
+
+  int result;
+  if ((result = send_message(sockfd, message, message_len, na)) != message_len) {
+    // fprintf(stderr, "sendto error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+  }
+  return result;
+}
+
+void listen_for_routers(int sockfd, int timeout, int networks_number, struct network_addr *networks, uint16_t *dists, list_t *dv) {
+  char buffer[IP_MAXPACKET + 1];
+  struct sockaddr_in sender;
+
+  while (poll_socket_modify_timeout(sockfd, &timeout)) {
+    recv_message(sockfd, buffer, &sender);
+    struct vector_item new_item = parse_message(buffer, &sender);
+
+    bool is_neighbour = false;
+    for (int i = 0; i < networks_number; i++) {
+      if (is_from_network(sender.sin_addr, networks[i])) {
+        is_neighbour = true;
+        break;
+      }
+    }
+
+    /* Shouldn't happen, just in case. */
+    if (!is_neighbour) {
+      char addr[20];
+      inet_ntop(AF_INET, &sender.sin_addr, addr, sizeof(addr));
+      fprintf(stderr, "Received datagram from %s, he is in none of my networks, ignoring\n. Maybe his VM routing table is configured incorrectly?\n", addr);
+      continue;
+    }
+
+    if (!is_from_network(sender.sin_addr, new_item.network)) {
+      new_item.is_connected_directly = false;
+
+      for (int i = 0; i < networks_number; i++) {
+          if (is_from_network(sender.sin_addr, networks[i])) {
+          new_item.distance += dists[i];
+          break;
+        }
+      }
+    } 
+
+    update_dv_new_item(dv, new_item);
+  }
+  update_dv_reachability(dv);
+}
+
+void propagate_distance_vector(int sockfd, int networks_number, struct network_addr *networks, uint16_t *dists, list_t *dv) {
+  for (int i = 0; i < networks_number; i++) {
+    reset(dv);
+    while (dv->it != NULL) {
+      struct vector_item data = *(struct vector_item *)dv->it->data;
+      if (!(get_network_address(data.network).s_addr == get_network_address(networks[i]).s_addr) && data.reachable <= REACHABILITY_WAIT_TIME) {
+        _send_item(sockfd, networks[i], data);
+      }
+      iterate(dv);
+    }
+
+    struct vector_item self_item;
+    self_item.distance = dists[i];
+    self_item.network = networks[i];    
+    _send_item(sockfd, networks[i], self_item);
+  }
+}
+
+bool is_from_network(struct in_addr ip_addr, struct network_addr network) {
+  struct network_addr temp;
+  temp.addr= ip_addr;
+  temp.netmask = network.netmask;
+  return (get_network_address(temp).s_addr == get_network_address(network).s_addr);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/utils.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/utils.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..edf90d0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/franciszek_malinka/utils.h
@@ -0,0 +1,52 @@
+#ifndef UTILS_H
+#define UTILS_H
+#define UTILS_H
+
+#include "config.h"
+#include <stdint.h>
+#include <time.h>
+#include <poll.h>
+#include "network_addr.h"
+#include "dist_vector.h"
+
+#define NS_TO_MS(X) ((long)(X) / (long)1000000)
+#define S_TO_MS(X) ((long)(X) * (long)1000)
+
+/* Returns a UDP socket. */
+int get_socket();
+
+/* Binds socket to given port and set the broadcast permission. */
+void bind_to_port(int sockfd, uint16_t port);
+
+/* Computes the time elapsed between start and finish in miliseconds. */
+long get_time_interval(struct timespec start, struct timespec finish);
+
+/* Polls given socket with given timeout and changes the timeout accordingly. */
+int poll_socket_modify_timeout(int sockfd, int *timeout);
+
+/* For debug purposes only. Recieves and prints UDP message. */
+void recv_and_print(int sockfd, int networks_number, struct network_addr *networks);
+
+/* Sends message in buffer of length buffer_len to addr through given socket. 
+ * IT DOES NOT TERMINATE THE PROGRAM IF SENDTO RETURNS ANY ERRORS! 
+ * One must handle the errors on their own. 
+ */  
+size_t send_message(int sockfd, char *buffer, int buffer_len, struct in_addr addr);
+
+/* Receive message and write it to buffer. */
+size_t recv_message(int sockfd, char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in *sender);
+
+/* Parse datagram into a vector item. */
+struct vector_item parse_message(char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in *sender);
+
+/* Listnes for routers for timeout ms. */
+void listen_for_routers(int sockfd, int timeout, int networks_number, struct network_addr *networks, uint16_t *dists, list_t *dv);
+
+/* Propagates dv to all connected networks. */
+void propagate_distance_vector(int sockfd, int networks_number, struct network_addr *networks, uint16_t *dists, list_t *dv);
+
+/* Checks if given address is in network range. */
+bool is_from_network(struct in_addr ip_addr, struct network_addr network);
+ 
+
+#endif
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/p2.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/p2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f0cc942
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/p2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/config.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/config.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f83c556
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/config.h
@@ -0,0 +1,15 @@
+#ifndef CONFIG_H
+#define CONFIG_H
+
+#define SERVER_PORT 54321
+#define TURN_LEN_S 5
+
+#define INFINITY_DIST 16
+#define REACHABILITY_WAIT_TIME 3
+
+#define DV_DATAGRAM_LEN 9
+
+#define TURN_LEN_MS (1000 * TURN_LEN_S)
+#define TURN_LEN_US (1000000 * TURN_LEN_S)
+
+#endif
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/dist_vector.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/dist_vector.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..74ae82e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/dist_vector.c
@@ -0,0 +1,114 @@
+/*
+ *  Program:  router
+ *  Autor:    Franciszek Malinka, 316093
+ */
+
+#include "dist_vector.h"
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <time.h>
+#include <string.h>
+
+bool is_connected_directly(struct vector_item item) {
+  return item.is_connected_directly;
+}
+
+bool is_reachable(struct vector_item item) {
+  return (item.distance < INFINITY_DIST);
+}
+
+void init_dv(list_t *dv, int n_cnt, struct network_addr *neighbours) {
+  for (int i = 0; i < n_cnt; i++) {
+    struct vector_item new_item;
+    new_item.network = neighbours[i];
+    new_item.distance = INFINITY_DIST;
+    new_item.is_connected_directly = true;
+    insert(dv, &new_item, sizeof(new_item));
+  }
+}
+
+void update_dv_reachability(list_t *distance_vector) {
+  reset(distance_vector);
+  while (distance_vector->it != NULL) {
+    struct vector_item *current = (struct vector_item *)distance_vector->it->data;
+    if(++current->reachable > REACHABILITY_WAIT_TIME) {
+      if (current->distance >= INFINITY_DIST) {
+        if (!is_connected_directly(*current)) {
+          erase_it(distance_vector);
+        }
+      } else {
+        current->distance = INFINITY_DIST;
+        current->reachable = 0;
+      }
+    }
+    iterate(distance_vector);
+  }
+}
+
+void update_dv_new_item(list_t *distance_vector, struct vector_item new_item) {
+  bool new_entry = true;
+  reset(distance_vector);
+  while (distance_vector->it != NULL) {
+    struct vector_item *current = (struct vector_item *)distance_vector->it->data;
+
+    /* If the network is already in the distance vector, then we possibly want to change it:
+     *  - if the new item has better distance than the previous one, then we just want to change it no matter what,
+     *  - if the new item has the same via ip, then we want to check two things:
+     *     - if new item has infinity dist, then we want to set infinity (if it wasn't set, then we want to change reachable to 0)
+     *     - if new item has < inf dist, then we want to change reachable to 0 and set our dist accordingly.
+     *  - else we ignore the entry.
+     */
+    if (get_network_address(current->network).s_addr == get_network_address(new_item.network).s_addr) {
+      if (current->distance > new_item.distance) {
+        *current = new_item;
+        current->reachable = 0;
+      } else if(current->via_ip.s_addr == new_item.via_ip.s_addr) {
+        if (new_item.distance >= INFINITY_DIST) {
+          if (current->distance < INFINITY_DIST) {
+            current->distance = INFINITY_DIST;
+            current->reachable = 0;
+          }
+        } else {
+          current->distance = new_item.distance;
+          current->reachable = 0;
+        }
+      }
+      new_entry = false;
+    }
+
+    iterate(distance_vector);
+  }
+
+  if (new_entry && new_item.reachable < INFINITY_DIST) {
+    insert(distance_vector, &new_item, sizeof(new_item));
+  }
+}
+
+void print_dv(list_t *distance_vector) {
+  time_t rawtime;
+  struct tm * timeinfo;
+
+  time ( &rawtime );
+  timeinfo = localtime ( &rawtime );
+  char t[100];
+  strcpy(t, asctime(timeinfo));
+  t[strlen(t) - 1] = 0;
+  printf("Distance vector [%s]:\n", t);
+  reset(distance_vector);
+  while (distance_vector->it != NULL) {
+    char addr[20], via_addr[20];
+    struct vector_item current  = *(struct vector_item *)distance_vector->it->data;
+    struct in_addr net_addr     = get_network_address(current.network);
+    inet_ntop(AF_INET, &net_addr, addr, sizeof(addr));
+    printf("%s/%d ", addr, current.network.netmask);
+    
+    if (is_reachable(current))          printf("distance %d ", current.distance);
+    else                                printf("unreachable ");
+
+    inet_ntop(AF_INET, &current.via_ip, via_addr, sizeof(via_addr));
+    if (is_connected_directly(current)) printf("connected directly\n");
+    else                                printf("via %s\n", via_addr);
+
+    iterate(distance_vector);
+  }
+  printf("\n");
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/dist_vector.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/dist_vector.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..14159b4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/dist_vector.h
@@ -0,0 +1,36 @@
+#ifndef DIST_VECTOR_H
+#define DIST_VECTOR_H
+
+#include "linked_list.h"
+#include "network_addr.h"
+#include "config.h"
+
+/* Item of the distance vector. 
+ * If <<reachable>> is set to 0, then it means that the network is reachable.
+ * If <<reachable>> has positive value, then it indicates that the network was
+ * unreachable for <<reachable>> turns.
+ */
+struct vector_item {
+  struct network_addr network;
+  struct in_addr      via_ip;
+  uint16_t            distance;
+  uint8_t             reachable;
+  bool                is_connected_directly;
+};
+
+/* Initis distance vector with given neighbours array. */
+void init_dv(list_t *dv, int n_cnt, struct network_addr *neighbours);
+
+/* Returns true if given distance vector item is connected directly, false otherwise. */
+bool is_connected_directly(struct vector_item item);
+
+/* Updates the distance vector. */
+void update_dv_new_item(list_t *distance_vector, struct vector_item new_item);
+
+/* Updates reachabilities. */
+void update_dv_reachability(list_t *distance_vector);
+
+/* Print distance vector. */
+void print_dv(list_t *distance_vector);
+
+#endif
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/linked_list.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/linked_list.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..16113ac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/linked_list.c
@@ -0,0 +1,79 @@
+/*
+ *  Program:  router
+ *  Autor:    Franciszek Malinka, 316093
+ */
+
+#include "linked_list.h"
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+
+node_t *_next(node_t *node) {
+  return (node == NULL) ? NULL : node->next;
+}
+
+void _insert(node_t **head, void *data, size_t data_size) {
+  node_t *new_node = (node_t *)malloc(sizeof(node_t));
+  new_node->data = malloc(data_size);  
+  for (int i = 0; i < data_size; i++)
+    *(uint8_t *)(new_node->data + i) = *(uint8_t *)(data + i);
+  new_node->next = *head;
+  *head = new_node;
+}
+
+void _free_node(node_t *node) {
+  free(node->data);
+  free(node);
+}
+
+void _erase(node_t **head) {
+  node_t *next_node = _next(*head);
+  _free_node(*head);
+  *head = next_node;
+}
+
+void _free_list(node_t *head) {
+  if (head == NULL) return;
+  _free_list(head->next);
+  _free_node(head);
+}
+
+list_t create_list() {
+  list_t ret;
+  ret.head = NULL;
+  ret.it = NULL;
+  return ret;
+}
+
+void insert(list_t *list, void *data, size_t data_size) {
+  _insert(&list->head, data, data_size);
+}
+
+void erase(list_t *list) {
+  _erase(&list->head);
+}
+
+void erase_it(list_t *list) {
+  if(list->it == NULL) return;
+  if(list->prev_it == NULL) {
+    erase(list);
+    reset(list);
+    return;
+  }
+  list->prev_it->next = _next(list->it);
+  _free_node(list->it);
+  list->it = list->prev_it->next;
+}
+
+void iterate(list_t *list) {
+  list->prev_it = list->it;
+  list->it = _next(list->it);
+}
+
+void reset(list_t *list) {
+  list->prev_it = NULL;
+  list->it = list->head;
+}
+
+void free_list(list_t *list) {
+  _free_list(list->head);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/linked_list.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/linked_list.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1574b2f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/linked_list.h
@@ -0,0 +1,42 @@
+#ifndef LINKED_LIST_H
+#define LINKED_LIST_H
+
+#include <stddef.h>
+
+typedef struct node {
+  void *data;
+  struct node *next;
+} node_t;
+
+
+typedef struct list_t {
+  node_t *head;
+  node_t *it;
+  node_t *prev_it;
+} list_t;
+
+/* Creates an empty list. */
+list_t create_list();
+
+/* Insert a new node in the begining of a list. */
+void insert(list_t *list, void *data, size_t data_size);
+
+/* Erases first node from the list. */
+void erase(list_t *list);
+
+/* Erases element under iterator and sets iterator to the next one. */
+void erase_it(list_t *list);
+
+/* Moves iterator one step. */
+void iterate(list_t *list);
+
+/* Resets the iterator. 
+ * Should execute the function after if you want to itarate unless you didnt insert or erase anything from the list. 
+ */
+void reset(list_t *list);
+
+/* Deletes the whole list. */
+void free_list(list_t *list);
+
+
+#endif
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/makefile b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/makefile
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bf6a327
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/makefile
@@ -0,0 +1,34 @@
+CC		:= gcc
+CFLAGS		:= -O2 -std=gnu17 -Wall -Wall -Wno-unused-result
+TARGET		:= router
+TEST		:= test
+DEPS		:= config.h
+
+ODIR		:= obj
+_OBJ		:= router.o utils.o linked_list.o network_addr.o dist_vector.o
+OBJ		:= $(patsubst %,$(ODIR)/%,$(_OBJ))
+
+_TEST_OBJ := test.o linked_list.o
+TEST_OBJ  := $(patsubst %,$(ODIR)/%,$(_TEST_OBJ))
+
+
+all: $(TARGET)
+test: $(TEST)
+
+$(ODIR)/%.o: %.c $(DEPS)
+	$(CC) $(CFLAGS) -c -o $@ $<
+
+$(TARGET): $(OBJ)
+	$(CC) -o $@ $^ $(CFLAGS)
+
+$(TEST): $(TEST_OBJ)
+	$(CC) -o $@ $^ $(CFLAGS)
+
+clean:
+	rm -rf $(TARGET)
+	rm -rf test
+
+distclean:
+	rm -rf $(TARGET)
+	rm -rf test
+	rm -rf $(ODIR)/*.o
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/network_addr.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/network_addr.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cac1060
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/network_addr.c
@@ -0,0 +1,65 @@
+/*
+ *  Program:  router
+ *  Autor:    Franciszek Malinka, 316093
+ */
+
+#include "network_addr.h"
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <string.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+
+struct in_addr _get_broadcast_address(struct in_addr addr, uint16_t netmask) {
+  struct in_addr result = addr;
+  result.s_addr = ntohl(result.s_addr);
+  /* bitshift by more than 31 is UB */
+  if (netmask == 0) {
+    result.s_addr = -1;
+  }
+  else {
+    result.s_addr |= ((1 << (32 - netmask)) - 1);
+  }
+  result.s_addr = htonl(result.s_addr);
+
+  return result;
+}
+
+struct in_addr _get_network_address(struct in_addr addr, uint16_t netmask) {
+  struct in_addr result = addr;
+  result.s_addr = ntohl(result.s_addr);
+
+  if (netmask == 0) {
+    result.s_addr = 0;
+  }
+  else {
+    result.s_addr &= ~((1 << (32 - netmask)) - 1);
+  }
+  result.s_addr = htonl(result.s_addr);
+
+  return result;
+}
+
+struct in_addr get_broadcast_address(struct network_addr na) {
+  return _get_broadcast_address(na.addr, na.netmask);
+}
+
+struct in_addr get_network_address(struct network_addr na) {
+  return _get_network_address(na.addr, na.netmask);
+}
+
+void pretty_print_network(struct network_addr na) {
+  char ip_addr[20];
+  inet_ntop(AF_INET, &na.addr, ip_addr, sizeof(ip_addr));
+  printf("%s/%d\n", ip_addr, na.netmask);
+}
+
+struct network_addr stona(char *str) {
+  struct network_addr  result;
+  char                addr[20];
+  size_t              ip_preffix = strcspn(str, "/");
+  
+  strncpy(addr, str, ip_preffix);
+  addr[ip_preffix] = 0;
+  inet_pton(AF_INET, addr, &(result.addr));
+  result.netmask = atoi(str + ip_preffix + 1);
+  return result;
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/network_addr.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/network_addr.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6347bbd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/network_addr.h
@@ -0,0 +1,28 @@
+#ifndef ROUTER_ADDR_H
+#define ROUTER_ADDR_H
+
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+#include <stdbool.h>
+
+/* Network address with netmask. */
+struct network_addr {
+  struct in_addr  addr;
+  uint8_t         netmask;
+};
+
+typedef struct network_addr router_addr;
+
+/* Returns broadcast address of a given network. */
+struct in_addr get_broadcast_address(struct network_addr na);
+
+/* Returns network address of a given network. */
+struct in_addr get_network_address(struct network_addr na);
+
+/* Prints network_addr via stdio. */
+void pretty_print_network(struct network_addr na);
+
+/* Converts string of ip in CIDR notation with a netmask to network_addr. */
+struct network_addr stona(char *str);
+
+#endif
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/router.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/router.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b5e732c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/router.c
@@ -0,0 +1,60 @@
+/*
+ *  Program:  router
+ *  Autor:    Franciszek Malinka, 316093
+ */
+
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <errno.h>
+#include <strings.h>
+#include <string.h>
+#include <netinet/ip.h>
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <stdint.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <unistd.h>
+#include <limits.h>
+#include "network_addr.h"
+#include "utils.h"
+#include "dist_vector.h"
+
+uint16_t read_configuration(struct network_addr** networks, uint16_t **dists) {
+  uint16_t n;
+  scanf("%hd", &n);
+  *networks = malloc(n * sizeof(struct network_addr));
+  *dists    = malloc(n * sizeof(uint16_t));
+  for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+    char addr[20];
+    char _dist[10];
+    uint16_t dist;
+    scanf(" %s %s %hd", addr, _dist, &dist);
+    (*networks)[i] = stona(addr);
+    (*dists)[i] = dist;
+  }
+  return n;
+}
+
+void router_loop(int sockfd, int networks_number, struct network_addr *networks, uint16_t *dists) {
+  list_t dv = create_list();
+  init_dv(&dv, networks_number, networks);
+
+  printf("Starting the router loop...\n");
+  for (;;) {
+    print_dv(&dv);
+    propagate_distance_vector(sockfd, networks_number, networks, dists, &dv);
+    listen_for_routers(sockfd, TURN_LEN_MS, networks_number, networks, dists, &dv);
+  }
+}
+
+int main() {
+  struct network_addr* networks;
+  uint16_t *dists;
+  int n = read_configuration(&networks, &dists);
+  int sockfd = get_socket();
+  bind_to_port(sockfd, SERVER_PORT);
+
+  router_loop(sockfd, n, networks, dists);
+
+  close(sockfd);
+  free(networks);
+  free(dists);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/test.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/test.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..958ff36
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/test.c
@@ -0,0 +1,52 @@
+/*
+ *  Program:  router
+ *  Autor:    Franciszek Malinka, 316093
+ */
+
+#include "linked_list.h"
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+
+/* Prints the list of ints to stdio */
+void print_list(list_t list) {
+  printf("List: ");
+  reset(&list);
+  while (list.it != NULL) {
+    printf("%d, ", *(int *)(list.it->data));
+    iterate(&list);
+  }
+  printf("\n");
+  reset(&list);
+}
+
+int main() {
+  int n;
+  scanf("%d", &n);
+  list_t list = create_list();
+
+  for (int i = 0; i < n; i++) {
+    int t;
+    scanf("%d", &t);
+    // insert
+    if (t == 0) {
+      int val = 0;
+      scanf("%d", &val);
+      insert(&list, &val, sizeof(int));
+      reset(&list);
+    }
+    if (t == 1) {
+      iterate(&list);
+      if (list.it != NULL)
+        printf("it: %d\n", *(int *)list.it->data);
+      else printf("End of list.\n");
+    }
+    if (t == 2) {
+      erase_it(&list);
+    }
+    if (t == 3) {
+      print_list(list);
+    }
+  }
+
+  free_list(&list);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/utils.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/utils.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0c0cae5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/utils.c
@@ -0,0 +1,208 @@
+/*
+ *  Program:  router
+ *  Autor:    Franciszek Malinka, 316093
+ */
+
+#include "utils.h"
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <netinet/ip.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <errno.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <string.h>
+#include <limits.h>
+
+int get_socket() {
+  int sockfd = socket(AF_INET, SOCK_DGRAM, 0);
+  if (sockfd < 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Socket error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  return sockfd;
+}
+
+void bind_to_port(int sockfd, uint16_t port) {
+  struct sockaddr_in server_address;
+  bzero(&server_address, sizeof(server_address));
+  server_address.sin_family       = AF_INET;
+  server_address.sin_port         = htons(port);
+  server_address.sin_addr.s_addr  = htonl(INADDR_ANY);
+  
+  if (bind(sockfd, (struct sockaddr*)&server_address, sizeof(server_address)) < 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Bind error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  
+  int broadcastPermission = 1;
+  setsockopt (sockfd, SOL_SOCKET, SO_BROADCAST, (void *)&broadcastPermission, sizeof(broadcastPermission));
+}
+
+long get_time_interval(struct timespec start, struct timespec finish) {
+  return S_TO_MS(finish.tv_sec - start.tv_sec) + NS_TO_MS(finish.tv_nsec - start.tv_nsec);
+}
+
+int poll_socket_modify_timeout(int sockfd, int *timeout) {
+  if (*timeout < 0) {
+    *timeout = 0;
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  struct pollfd fds;
+  struct timespec start;
+  struct timespec finish;
+  
+  fds.fd = sockfd;
+  fds.events = POLLIN;
+  fds.revents = 0;
+  
+  clock_gettime(CLOCK_REALTIME, &start);
+  int result = poll(&fds, 1, *timeout);
+  clock_gettime(CLOCK_REALTIME, &finish);
+  
+  if (result == -1) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "poll error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  if (result == 0) {
+    *timeout = 0;
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  *timeout -= get_time_interval(start, finish);
+  return result;
+}   
+
+size_t send_message(int sockfd, char *buffer, int buffer_len, struct in_addr network) {
+  struct sockaddr_in network_address;
+  bzero (&network_address, sizeof(network_address));
+  network_address.sin_family       = AF_INET;
+  network_address.sin_port         = htons(SERVER_PORT);
+  network_address.sin_addr         = network;
+  
+  return sendto(sockfd, buffer, buffer_len, 0, (struct sockaddr*) &network_address, sizeof(network_address));
+}
+
+size_t recv_message(int sockfd, char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in *sender) {
+  socklen_t sender_len = sizeof(*sender);
+  for (int i = 0; i < DV_DATAGRAM_LEN; i++) buffer[i] = 0;
+  size_t datagram_len = recvfrom(sockfd, buffer, IP_MAXPACKET, 0,
+    (struct sockaddr*)sender, &sender_len);
+  if (datagram_len < 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "recvfrom error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  
+  return datagram_len;
+}
+
+struct vector_item parse_message(char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in *sender) {
+  struct vector_item res;
+  uint32_t ip_addr  = *(uint32_t *)buffer;
+  uint32_t dist     = *(uint32_t *)(buffer + 5);
+  dist              = ntohl(dist);
+
+  res.network.addr.s_addr   = ip_addr;
+  res.network.netmask       = buffer[4];
+  res.is_connected_directly = true;
+  res.via_ip                = sender->sin_addr;
+  res.distance              = (dist < INFINITY_DIST ? dist : INFINITY_DIST);
+  res.reachable             = 0;
+
+  char addr[20];
+  inet_ntop(AF_INET, &res.network.addr, addr, sizeof(addr));
+  char via[20];
+  inet_ntop(AF_INET, &sender->sin_addr, via, sizeof(via));
+  return res;
+}
+
+void _get_message(struct vector_item item, char *message) {
+  *(uint32_t *)message  = item.network.addr.s_addr;
+  message[4]            = item.network.netmask;
+  uint32_t distance     = htonl(item.distance >= INFINITY_DIST ? INT_MAX : item.distance);
+  for (int i = 0; i < 4; i++) {
+    *(message + 5 + i) = *((char *)(&distance) + i); 
+  }
+}
+
+int _send_item(int sockfd, struct network_addr network, struct vector_item item) {
+  char message[DV_DATAGRAM_LEN + 1];
+  _get_message(item, message);
+  message[DV_DATAGRAM_LEN] = 0;
+  ssize_t message_len = DV_DATAGRAM_LEN;
+
+  struct in_addr na = get_broadcast_address(network);
+  
+  char addr[20];
+  inet_ntop(AF_INET, &na, addr, sizeof(addr));
+
+  int result;
+  if ((result = send_message(sockfd, message, message_len, na)) != message_len) {
+    // fprintf(stderr, "sendto error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+  }
+  return result;
+}
+
+void listen_for_routers(int sockfd, int timeout, int networks_number, struct network_addr *networks, uint16_t *dists, list_t *dv) {
+  char buffer[IP_MAXPACKET + 1];
+  struct sockaddr_in sender;
+
+  while (poll_socket_modify_timeout(sockfd, &timeout)) {
+    recv_message(sockfd, buffer, &sender);
+    struct vector_item new_item = parse_message(buffer, &sender);
+
+    bool is_neighbour = false;
+    for (int i = 0; i < networks_number; i++) {
+      if (is_from_network(sender.sin_addr, networks[i])) {
+        is_neighbour = true;
+        break;
+      }
+    }
+
+    /* Shouldn't happen, just in case. */
+    if (!is_neighbour) {
+      char addr[20];
+      inet_ntop(AF_INET, &sender.sin_addr, addr, sizeof(addr));
+      fprintf(stderr, "Received datagram from %s, he is in none of my networks, ignoring\n. Maybe his VM routing table is configured incorrectly?\n", addr);
+      continue;
+    }
+
+    if (!is_from_network(sender.sin_addr, new_item.network)) {
+      new_item.is_connected_directly = false;
+
+      for (int i = 0; i < networks_number; i++) {
+          if (is_from_network(sender.sin_addr, networks[i])) {
+          new_item.distance += dists[i];
+          break;
+        }
+      }
+    } 
+
+    update_dv_new_item(dv, new_item);
+  }
+  update_dv_reachability(dv);
+}
+
+void propagate_distance_vector(int sockfd, int networks_number, struct network_addr *networks, uint16_t *dists, list_t *dv) {
+  for (int i = 0; i < networks_number; i++) {
+    reset(dv);
+    while (dv->it != NULL) {
+      struct vector_item data = *(struct vector_item *)dv->it->data;
+      if (!(get_network_address(data.network).s_addr == get_network_address(networks[i]).s_addr) && data.reachable <= REACHABILITY_WAIT_TIME) {
+        _send_item(sockfd, networks[i], data);
+      }
+      iterate(dv);
+    }
+
+    struct vector_item self_item;
+    self_item.distance = dists[i];
+    self_item.network = networks[i];    
+    _send_item(sockfd, networks[i], self_item);
+  }
+}
+
+bool is_from_network(struct in_addr ip_addr, struct network_addr network) {
+  struct network_addr temp;
+  temp.addr= ip_addr;
+  temp.netmask = network.netmask;
+  return (get_network_address(temp).s_addr == get_network_address(network).s_addr);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/utils.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/utils.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..edf90d0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/router/utils.h
@@ -0,0 +1,52 @@
+#ifndef UTILS_H
+#define UTILS_H
+#define UTILS_H
+
+#include "config.h"
+#include <stdint.h>
+#include <time.h>
+#include <poll.h>
+#include "network_addr.h"
+#include "dist_vector.h"
+
+#define NS_TO_MS(X) ((long)(X) / (long)1000000)
+#define S_TO_MS(X) ((long)(X) * (long)1000)
+
+/* Returns a UDP socket. */
+int get_socket();
+
+/* Binds socket to given port and set the broadcast permission. */
+void bind_to_port(int sockfd, uint16_t port);
+
+/* Computes the time elapsed between start and finish in miliseconds. */
+long get_time_interval(struct timespec start, struct timespec finish);
+
+/* Polls given socket with given timeout and changes the timeout accordingly. */
+int poll_socket_modify_timeout(int sockfd, int *timeout);
+
+/* For debug purposes only. Recieves and prints UDP message. */
+void recv_and_print(int sockfd, int networks_number, struct network_addr *networks);
+
+/* Sends message in buffer of length buffer_len to addr through given socket. 
+ * IT DOES NOT TERMINATE THE PROGRAM IF SENDTO RETURNS ANY ERRORS! 
+ * One must handle the errors on their own. 
+ */  
+size_t send_message(int sockfd, char *buffer, int buffer_len, struct in_addr addr);
+
+/* Receive message and write it to buffer. */
+size_t recv_message(int sockfd, char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in *sender);
+
+/* Parse datagram into a vector item. */
+struct vector_item parse_message(char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in *sender);
+
+/* Listnes for routers for timeout ms. */
+void listen_for_routers(int sockfd, int timeout, int networks_number, struct network_addr *networks, uint16_t *dists, list_t *dv);
+
+/* Propagates dv to all connected networks. */
+void propagate_distance_vector(int sockfd, int networks_number, struct network_addr *networks, uint16_t *dists, list_t *dv);
+
+/* Checks if given address is in network range. */
+bool is_from_network(struct in_addr ip_addr, struct network_addr network);
+ 
+
+#endif
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/udp_client.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/udp_client.c
new file mode 100755
index 0000000..4e7dce4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/udp_client.c
@@ -0,0 +1,41 @@
+#include <netinet/ip.h>
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <string.h>
+#include <unistd.h>
+#include <errno.h>
+
+int main(int argc, char * argv[])
+{
+	if (argc < 2) {
+		printf("Usage:\n\t%s [server ip]\n", argv[0]);
+		return -1;
+	}
+
+	int sockfd = socket(AF_INET, SOCK_DGRAM, 0);
+	if (sockfd < 0) {
+		fprintf(stderr, "socket error: %s\n", strerror(errno)); 
+		return EXIT_FAILURE;
+	}
+
+	struct sockaddr_in server_address;
+	bzero (&server_address, sizeof(server_address));
+	server_address.sin_family      = AF_INET;
+	server_address.sin_port        = htons(54321);
+	if (!inet_pton(AF_INET, argv[1], &server_address.sin_addr)) {
+		printf("Inavlid ip address\n");
+		return -1;
+	}
+
+	char* message = "Hello server!";
+	ssize_t message_len = strlen(message);
+	if (sendto(sockfd, message, message_len, 0, (struct sockaddr*) &server_address, sizeof(server_address)) != message_len) {
+		fprintf(stderr, "sendto error: %s\n", strerror(errno)); 
+		return EXIT_FAILURE;		
+	}
+
+	close (sockfd);
+	return EXIT_SUCCESS;
+}
+	
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/udp_server.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/udp_server.c
new file mode 100755
index 0000000..b5ae6d1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia2/udp_server.c
@@ -0,0 +1,59 @@
+#include <netinet/ip.h>
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <string.h>
+#include <unistd.h>
+#include <errno.h>
+
+int main()
+{
+	int sockfd = socket(AF_INET, SOCK_DGRAM, 0);
+	if (sockfd < 0) {
+		fprintf(stderr, "socket error: %s\n", strerror(errno)); 
+		return EXIT_FAILURE;
+	}
+
+	struct sockaddr_in server_address;
+	bzero (&server_address, sizeof(server_address));
+	server_address.sin_family      = AF_INET;
+	server_address.sin_port        = htons(54321);
+	server_address.sin_addr.s_addr = htonl(INADDR_ANY);
+	if (bind (sockfd, (struct sockaddr*)&server_address, sizeof(server_address)) < 0) {
+		fprintf(stderr, "bind error: %s\n", strerror(errno)); 
+		return EXIT_FAILURE;
+	}
+
+	for (;;) {
+
+		struct sockaddr_in 	sender;	
+		socklen_t 			sender_len = sizeof(sender);
+		u_int8_t 			buffer[IP_MAXPACKET+1];
+
+		ssize_t datagram_len = recvfrom (sockfd, buffer, IP_MAXPACKET, 0, (struct sockaddr*)&sender, &sender_len);
+		if (datagram_len < 0) {
+			fprintf(stderr, "recvfrom error: %s\n", strerror(errno)); 
+			return EXIT_FAILURE;
+		}
+		
+		char sender_ip_str[20]; 
+		inet_ntop(AF_INET, &(sender.sin_addr), sender_ip_str, sizeof(sender_ip_str));
+		printf ("Received UDP packet from IP address: %s, port: %d\n", sender_ip_str, ntohs(sender.sin_port));
+
+		buffer[datagram_len] = 0;
+		printf ("%ld-byte message: +%s+\n", datagram_len, buffer);
+		
+		char* reply = "Thank you!";
+		ssize_t reply_len = strlen(reply);
+		if (sendto(sockfd, reply, reply_len, 0, (struct sockaddr*)&sender, sender_len) != reply_len) {
+			fprintf(stderr, "sendto error: %s\n", strerror(errno)); 
+			return EXIT_FAILURE;		
+		}
+
+		fflush(stdout);
+	}
+
+	close (sockfd);
+	return EXIT_SUCCESS;
+}
+
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/4pkt/config.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/4pkt/config.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..42ccd89
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/4pkt/config.h
@@ -0,0 +1,7 @@
+#ifndef CONFIG_H
+#define CONFIG_H
+
+#define DATAGRAM_LEN 1000
+#define HEADER_LEN 40
+
+#endif
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/4pkt/transport.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/4pkt/transport.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..806eb4e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/4pkt/transport.c
@@ -0,0 +1,152 @@
+#include <netinet/ip.h>
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <string.h>
+#include <errno.h>
+#include <time.h>
+#include <poll.h>
+#include <stdbool.h>
+#include "config.h"
+
+#define NS_TO_MS(X) ((long)(X) / (long)1000000)
+#define S_TO_MS(X) ((long)(X) * (long)1000)
+
+int get_socket() {
+  int sockfd = socket(AF_INET, SOCK_DGRAM, 0);
+  if (sockfd < 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "socket error: %s", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  return sockfd;
+}
+
+size_t send_datagram(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in server_address, char *buffer, size_t buffer_len) {
+  return sendto(sockfd, buffer, buffer_len, 0, (struct sockaddr*) &server_address, sizeof(server_address));
+}
+
+void send_data_request(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in server_address, size_t pos, size_t bytes) {
+  char buffer[40];
+  sprintf(buffer, "GET %ld %ld\n", pos, bytes);
+  size_t buffer_len = strlen(buffer);
+  if (send_datagram(sockfd, server_address, buffer, buffer_len) != buffer_len) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "sendto error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+}
+
+long get_time_interval(struct timespec start, struct timespec finish) {
+  return S_TO_MS(finish.tv_sec - start.tv_sec) + NS_TO_MS(finish.tv_nsec - start.tv_nsec);
+}
+
+int poll_socket_modify_timeout(int sockfd, int *timeout) {
+  if (*timeout < 0) {
+    *timeout = 0;
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  struct pollfd fds;
+  struct timespec start;
+  struct timespec finish;
+  
+  fds.fd = sockfd;
+  fds.events = POLLIN;
+  fds.revents = 0;
+  
+  clock_gettime(CLOCK_REALTIME, &start);
+  int result = poll(&fds, 1, *timeout);
+  clock_gettime(CLOCK_REALTIME, &finish);
+  
+  if (result == -1) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "poll error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  if (result == 0) {
+    *timeout = 0;
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  *timeout -= get_time_interval(start, finish);
+  return result;
+}   
+
+size_t recv_message(int sockfd, char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in *sender) {
+  socklen_t sender_len = sizeof(*sender);
+  bzero(buffer, HEADER_LEN + DATAGRAM_LEN);
+  bzero(sender, sizeof(*sender));
+  size_t datagram_len = recvfrom(sockfd, buffer, IP_MAXPACKET, 0,
+    (struct sockaddr*)sender, &sender_len);
+
+  if (datagram_len < 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "recvfrom error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  
+  return datagram_len;
+}
+
+inline size_t min(size_t x, size_t y) { return (x<y ? x : y); }
+
+void receive_file(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in server_address, const char *file_name, size_t file_len) {
+  FILE *fd = fopen(file_name, "w");
+  if (!fd) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "fopen error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  size_t bytes_writen = 0;
+  
+  size_t recv_pos, recv_len;
+  struct sockaddr_in sender;
+  char buffer[DATAGRAM_LEN + HEADER_LEN];
+  int prev_len = 0;
+
+  while (file_len) {
+    send_data_request(sockfd, server_address, bytes_writen, min(file_len, DATAGRAM_LEN));
+    int timeout = 10;
+    while (poll_socket_modify_timeout(sockfd, &timeout)) {
+      size_t received_bytes = recv_message(sockfd, buffer, &sender);
+      if (sender.sin_addr.s_addr != server_address.sin_addr.s_addr || sender.sin_port != server_address.sin_port) continue;
+      sscanf(buffer, "DATA %ld %ld\n", &recv_pos, &recv_len);
+      if (recv_pos != bytes_writen) continue;
+      fwrite(buffer + received_bytes - recv_len, sizeof(char), recv_len, fd);  
+      file_len -= recv_len;
+      bytes_writen += recv_len;
+      break;    
+    }
+    if (prev_len != bytes_writen) {
+      prev_len = bytes_writen;
+      printf("%.3f%%\n", 100.0 * (float)(bytes_writen) / (float)(file_len+bytes_writen));
+    }
+  }
+
+  fclose(fd);
+}
+
+int main(int argc, char *argv[]) {
+  if (argc != 5) {
+    printf("Usage:\n\t%s [server ip] [server port] [output file name] [file size]\n", argv[0]);
+    return -1;
+  }
+
+  int sockfd = get_socket();
+  struct sockaddr_in server_address;
+  bzero(&server_address, sizeof(server_address));
+  server_address.sin_family = AF_INET;
+  if (!inet_pton(AF_INET, argv[1], &server_address.sin_addr)) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Invalid ip address: %s\n", argv[1]);
+    return -1;
+  }
+  server_address.sin_port = htons(atoi(argv[2]));
+  if (server_address.sin_port == 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Invalid port: %s\n", argv[2]);
+    return -1;
+  }
+
+  size_t file_len = atoi(argv[4]);
+  if (file_len == 0) {
+    printf("File len is 0, nothing to do here.\n");
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  receive_file(sockfd, server_address, argv[3], file_len);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/config.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/config.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3b81646
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/config.h
@@ -0,0 +1,10 @@
+#ifndef CONFIG_H
+#define CONFIG_H
+
+#define DATAGRAM_LEN 1000
+#define HEADER_LEN 40
+
+#define WINDOW_SIZE 3000
+#define TIMEOUT 100
+
+#endif
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka.tar.xz b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka.tar.xz
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6db8320
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka.tar.xz
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/config.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/config.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3b81646
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/config.h
@@ -0,0 +1,10 @@
+#ifndef CONFIG_H
+#define CONFIG_H
+
+#define DATAGRAM_LEN 1000
+#define HEADER_LEN 40
+
+#define WINDOW_SIZE 3000
+#define TIMEOUT 100
+
+#endif
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/transport.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/transport.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9226d69
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/transport.c
@@ -0,0 +1,149 @@
+/* Projekt: Transport
+ * Autor: Franciszek Malinka 316093
+ */
+
+#include <netinet/ip.h>
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <string.h>
+#include <errno.h>
+#include <stdbool.h>
+#include "config.h"
+#include "window.h"
+#include "utils.h"
+
+size_t send_datagram(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in server_address, char *buffer, size_t buffer_len) {
+  return sendto(sockfd, buffer, buffer_len, 0, (struct sockaddr*) &server_address, sizeof(server_address));
+}
+
+void send_data_request(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in server_address, size_t pos, size_t bytes) {
+  char buffer[40];
+  sprintf(buffer, "GET %ld %ld\n", pos, bytes);
+  size_t buffer_len = strlen(buffer);
+  if (send_datagram(sockfd, server_address, buffer, buffer_len) != buffer_len) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "sendto error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+}
+
+size_t recv_message(int sockfd, char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in *sender) {
+  socklen_t sender_len = sizeof(*sender);
+  bzero(buffer, HEADER_LEN + DATAGRAM_LEN);
+  bzero(sender, sizeof(*sender));
+  size_t datagram_len = recvfrom(sockfd, buffer, IP_MAXPACKET, 0,
+    (struct sockaddr*)sender, &sender_len);
+
+  if (datagram_len < 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "recvfrom error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  
+  return datagram_len;
+}
+
+void request_data(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in server_address, window_t *w, size_t bytes_writen, size_t remaining_bytes) {
+  int pos = w->first_pos;
+  for (int i = 0; i < w->size && i*DATAGRAM_LEN < remaining_bytes; i++) {
+    if (w->uptodate[pos] == false) {
+      size_t bytes_to_request = min(DATAGRAM_LEN, remaining_bytes - i*DATAGRAM_LEN);
+      send_data_request(sockfd, server_address, bytes_writen + i*DATAGRAM_LEN, bytes_to_request);
+    }
+    pos = (pos + 1) % w->size;
+  }
+}
+
+void update_file(FILE *fd, window_t *w, size_t *bytes_writen, size_t *remaining_bytes) {
+  while (w->uptodate[w->first_pos] && *remaining_bytes > 0) {
+    // printf("Writing %ld\n", *bytes_writen);
+    size_t bytes_to_write = min(DATAGRAM_LEN, *remaining_bytes);
+    fwrite(w->ar[w->first_pos], sizeof(char), bytes_to_write, fd);  
+    *bytes_writen += bytes_to_write;
+    *remaining_bytes -= bytes_to_write;
+    shift(w);
+  } 
+}
+
+size_t recv_datagram(int sockfd, char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in server_address) {
+  struct sockaddr_in sender;
+  
+  size_t received_bytes = recv_message(sockfd, buffer, &sender);
+  if (sender.sin_addr.s_addr != server_address.sin_addr.s_addr || sender.sin_port != server_address.sin_port) {
+    printf("Smieci!\n");
+    return 0;
+  }
+  return received_bytes;  
+}
+
+
+void receive_file(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in server_address, const char *file_name, size_t remaining_bytes) {
+  FILE *fd = fopen(file_name, "w");
+  if (!fd) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "fopen error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  size_t bytes_writen = 0;
+  
+  size_t recv_pos, recv_len;
+  char buffer[DATAGRAM_LEN + HEADER_LEN];
+  int prev_len = 0;
+  window_t w;
+  init_window(&w, WINDOW_SIZE, DATAGRAM_LEN);
+  
+  while (remaining_bytes) {
+    request_data(sockfd, server_address, &w, bytes_writen, remaining_bytes);
+    int timeout = TIMEOUT;
+    while (poll_socket_modify_timeout(sockfd, &timeout)) {
+      size_t received_bytes = recv_datagram(sockfd, buffer, server_address);
+      if (received_bytes == 0) continue;
+      sscanf(buffer, "DATA %ld %ld\n", &recv_pos, &recv_len);
+      if (recv_pos < bytes_writen) continue;
+      
+      int pos = (recv_pos - bytes_writen) / DATAGRAM_LEN;
+      pos = (pos + w.first_pos) % w.size;
+      if (!w.uptodate[pos]) {
+        for (int i = 0; i < recv_len; i++) {
+          w.ar[pos][i] = buffer[i + received_bytes - recv_len];
+        }
+        w.uptodate[pos] = true;
+      }
+      update_file(fd, &w, &bytes_writen, &remaining_bytes);
+    }
+
+    if (prev_len != bytes_writen) {
+      prev_len = bytes_writen;
+      printf("%.3f%%\n", 100.0 * (float)(bytes_writen) / (float)(remaining_bytes+bytes_writen));
+    }
+  }
+  destroy_window(&w);
+  fclose(fd);
+}
+
+int main(int argc, char *argv[]) {
+  if (argc != 5) {
+    printf("Usage:\n\t%s [server ip] [server port] [output file name] [file size]\n", argv[0]);
+    return -1;
+  }
+
+  int sockfd = get_socket();
+  struct sockaddr_in server_address;
+  bzero(&server_address, sizeof(server_address));
+  server_address.sin_family = AF_INET;
+  if (!inet_pton(AF_INET, argv[1], &server_address.sin_addr)) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Invalid ip address: %s\n", argv[1]);
+    return -1;
+  }
+  server_address.sin_port = htons(atoi(argv[2]));
+  if (server_address.sin_port == 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Invalid port: %s\n", argv[2]);
+    return -1;
+  }
+
+  size_t file_len = atoi(argv[4]);
+  if (file_len == 0) {
+    printf("File len is 0, nothing to do here.\n");
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  receive_file(sockfd, server_address, argv[3], file_len);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/utils.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/utils.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4c2f449
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/utils.c
@@ -0,0 +1,58 @@
+/* Projekt: Transport
+ * Autor: Franciszek Malinka 316093
+ */
+
+#include "utils.h"
+#include <poll.h>
+#include <errno.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <netinet/ip.h>
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <string.h>
+
+size_t min(size_t x, size_t y) { return (x<y ? x : y); }
+
+int get_socket() {
+  int sockfd = socket(AF_INET, SOCK_DGRAM, 0);
+  if (sockfd < 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "socket error: %s", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  return sockfd;
+}
+
+long get_time_interval(struct timespec start, struct timespec finish) {
+  return S_TO_MS(finish.tv_sec - start.tv_sec) + NS_TO_MS(finish.tv_nsec - start.tv_nsec);
+}
+
+int poll_socket_modify_timeout(int sockfd, int *timeout) {
+  if (*timeout < 0) {
+    *timeout = 0;
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  struct pollfd fds;
+  struct timespec start;
+  struct timespec finish;
+  
+  fds.fd = sockfd;
+  fds.events = POLLIN;
+  fds.revents = 0;
+  
+  clock_gettime(CLOCK_REALTIME, &start);
+  int result = poll(&fds, 1, *timeout);
+  clock_gettime(CLOCK_REALTIME, &finish);
+  
+  if (result == -1) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "poll error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  if (result == 0) {
+    *timeout = 0;
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  *timeout -= get_time_interval(start, finish);
+  return result;
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/utils.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/utils.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eccf347
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/utils.h
@@ -0,0 +1,18 @@
+#ifndef UTILS_H
+#define UTILS_H
+
+#include <stddef.h>
+#include <time.h>
+
+#define NS_TO_MS(X) ((long)(X) / (long)1000000)
+#define S_TO_MS(X) ((long)(X) * (long)1000)
+
+size_t min(size_t x, size_t y);
+
+int get_socket();
+
+long get_time_interval(struct timespec start, struct timespec finish);
+
+int poll_socket_modify_timeout(int sockfd, int *timeout);
+
+#endif
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/window.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/window.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c8bffad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/window.c
@@ -0,0 +1,42 @@
+/* Projekt: Transport
+ * Autor: Franciszek Malinka 316093
+ */
+
+#include "window.h"
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <strings.h>
+
+void init_window(window_t *w, int window_size, int window_width) {
+  w->ar = malloc(window_size * sizeof(char *));
+  for (int i = 0; i < window_size; i++) 
+    w->ar[i] = malloc(window_width * sizeof(char));
+  w->uptodate = malloc(window_size);
+  bzero (w->uptodate, window_size);
+  w->first_pos = 0;
+  w->size = window_size;
+}
+
+void destroy_window(window_t *w) {
+  for (int i = 0; i < w->size; i++) 
+    free(w->ar[i]);
+  free(w->ar);
+  free(w->uptodate);
+}
+
+void shift_while_uptodate(window_t *w) {
+  while (w->uptodate[w->first_pos]) {
+    w->uptodate[w->first_pos] = false;
+    w->first_pos = (w->first_pos + 1) % w->size;
+  }
+}
+
+void shift(window_t *w) {
+  w->uptodate[w->first_pos] = false;
+  w->first_pos = (w->first_pos + 1) % w->size;
+}
+
+void update(window_t *w, int pos, char *buffer, size_t buf_size) {
+  pos = (w->first_pos + pos) % w->size;
+  for (int i = 0; i < buf_size; i++) w->ar[pos][i] = buffer[i];
+  w->uptodate[pos] = true;
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/window.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/window.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..63e89cc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/franciszek_malinka/window.h
@@ -0,0 +1,24 @@
+#ifndef WINDOW_H
+#define WINDOW_H
+
+#include <stdbool.h>
+#include <stddef.h>
+
+typedef struct {
+  char **ar;
+  bool *uptodate;
+  int size;
+  int first_pos;
+} window_t;
+
+void init_window(window_t *w, int window_size, int window_width);
+
+void destroy_window(window_t *w);
+
+void shift_while_uptodate(window_t *w);
+
+void shift(window_t *w);
+
+void update(window_t *w, int pos, char *buffer, size_t buf_size);
+
+#endif
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/p3.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/p3.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..14f1261
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/p3.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/transport.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/transport.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9226d69
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/transport.c
@@ -0,0 +1,149 @@
+/* Projekt: Transport
+ * Autor: Franciszek Malinka 316093
+ */
+
+#include <netinet/ip.h>
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <string.h>
+#include <errno.h>
+#include <stdbool.h>
+#include "config.h"
+#include "window.h"
+#include "utils.h"
+
+size_t send_datagram(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in server_address, char *buffer, size_t buffer_len) {
+  return sendto(sockfd, buffer, buffer_len, 0, (struct sockaddr*) &server_address, sizeof(server_address));
+}
+
+void send_data_request(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in server_address, size_t pos, size_t bytes) {
+  char buffer[40];
+  sprintf(buffer, "GET %ld %ld\n", pos, bytes);
+  size_t buffer_len = strlen(buffer);
+  if (send_datagram(sockfd, server_address, buffer, buffer_len) != buffer_len) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "sendto error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+}
+
+size_t recv_message(int sockfd, char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in *sender) {
+  socklen_t sender_len = sizeof(*sender);
+  bzero(buffer, HEADER_LEN + DATAGRAM_LEN);
+  bzero(sender, sizeof(*sender));
+  size_t datagram_len = recvfrom(sockfd, buffer, IP_MAXPACKET, 0,
+    (struct sockaddr*)sender, &sender_len);
+
+  if (datagram_len < 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "recvfrom error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  
+  return datagram_len;
+}
+
+void request_data(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in server_address, window_t *w, size_t bytes_writen, size_t remaining_bytes) {
+  int pos = w->first_pos;
+  for (int i = 0; i < w->size && i*DATAGRAM_LEN < remaining_bytes; i++) {
+    if (w->uptodate[pos] == false) {
+      size_t bytes_to_request = min(DATAGRAM_LEN, remaining_bytes - i*DATAGRAM_LEN);
+      send_data_request(sockfd, server_address, bytes_writen + i*DATAGRAM_LEN, bytes_to_request);
+    }
+    pos = (pos + 1) % w->size;
+  }
+}
+
+void update_file(FILE *fd, window_t *w, size_t *bytes_writen, size_t *remaining_bytes) {
+  while (w->uptodate[w->first_pos] && *remaining_bytes > 0) {
+    // printf("Writing %ld\n", *bytes_writen);
+    size_t bytes_to_write = min(DATAGRAM_LEN, *remaining_bytes);
+    fwrite(w->ar[w->first_pos], sizeof(char), bytes_to_write, fd);  
+    *bytes_writen += bytes_to_write;
+    *remaining_bytes -= bytes_to_write;
+    shift(w);
+  } 
+}
+
+size_t recv_datagram(int sockfd, char *buffer, struct sockaddr_in server_address) {
+  struct sockaddr_in sender;
+  
+  size_t received_bytes = recv_message(sockfd, buffer, &sender);
+  if (sender.sin_addr.s_addr != server_address.sin_addr.s_addr || sender.sin_port != server_address.sin_port) {
+    printf("Smieci!\n");
+    return 0;
+  }
+  return received_bytes;  
+}
+
+
+void receive_file(int sockfd, struct sockaddr_in server_address, const char *file_name, size_t remaining_bytes) {
+  FILE *fd = fopen(file_name, "w");
+  if (!fd) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "fopen error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  size_t bytes_writen = 0;
+  
+  size_t recv_pos, recv_len;
+  char buffer[DATAGRAM_LEN + HEADER_LEN];
+  int prev_len = 0;
+  window_t w;
+  init_window(&w, WINDOW_SIZE, DATAGRAM_LEN);
+  
+  while (remaining_bytes) {
+    request_data(sockfd, server_address, &w, bytes_writen, remaining_bytes);
+    int timeout = TIMEOUT;
+    while (poll_socket_modify_timeout(sockfd, &timeout)) {
+      size_t received_bytes = recv_datagram(sockfd, buffer, server_address);
+      if (received_bytes == 0) continue;
+      sscanf(buffer, "DATA %ld %ld\n", &recv_pos, &recv_len);
+      if (recv_pos < bytes_writen) continue;
+      
+      int pos = (recv_pos - bytes_writen) / DATAGRAM_LEN;
+      pos = (pos + w.first_pos) % w.size;
+      if (!w.uptodate[pos]) {
+        for (int i = 0; i < recv_len; i++) {
+          w.ar[pos][i] = buffer[i + received_bytes - recv_len];
+        }
+        w.uptodate[pos] = true;
+      }
+      update_file(fd, &w, &bytes_writen, &remaining_bytes);
+    }
+
+    if (prev_len != bytes_writen) {
+      prev_len = bytes_writen;
+      printf("%.3f%%\n", 100.0 * (float)(bytes_writen) / (float)(remaining_bytes+bytes_writen));
+    }
+  }
+  destroy_window(&w);
+  fclose(fd);
+}
+
+int main(int argc, char *argv[]) {
+  if (argc != 5) {
+    printf("Usage:\n\t%s [server ip] [server port] [output file name] [file size]\n", argv[0]);
+    return -1;
+  }
+
+  int sockfd = get_socket();
+  struct sockaddr_in server_address;
+  bzero(&server_address, sizeof(server_address));
+  server_address.sin_family = AF_INET;
+  if (!inet_pton(AF_INET, argv[1], &server_address.sin_addr)) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Invalid ip address: %s\n", argv[1]);
+    return -1;
+  }
+  server_address.sin_port = htons(atoi(argv[2]));
+  if (server_address.sin_port == 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "Invalid port: %s\n", argv[2]);
+    return -1;
+  }
+
+  size_t file_len = atoi(argv[4]);
+  if (file_len == 0) {
+    printf("File len is 0, nothing to do here.\n");
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  receive_file(sockfd, server_address, argv[3], file_len);
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/utils.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/utils.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4c2f449
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/utils.c
@@ -0,0 +1,58 @@
+/* Projekt: Transport
+ * Autor: Franciszek Malinka 316093
+ */
+
+#include "utils.h"
+#include <poll.h>
+#include <errno.h>
+#include <stdio.h>
+#include <netinet/ip.h>
+#include <arpa/inet.h>
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <string.h>
+
+size_t min(size_t x, size_t y) { return (x<y ? x : y); }
+
+int get_socket() {
+  int sockfd = socket(AF_INET, SOCK_DGRAM, 0);
+  if (sockfd < 0) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "socket error: %s", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  return sockfd;
+}
+
+long get_time_interval(struct timespec start, struct timespec finish) {
+  return S_TO_MS(finish.tv_sec - start.tv_sec) + NS_TO_MS(finish.tv_nsec - start.tv_nsec);
+}
+
+int poll_socket_modify_timeout(int sockfd, int *timeout) {
+  if (*timeout < 0) {
+    *timeout = 0;
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  struct pollfd fds;
+  struct timespec start;
+  struct timespec finish;
+  
+  fds.fd = sockfd;
+  fds.events = POLLIN;
+  fds.revents = 0;
+  
+  clock_gettime(CLOCK_REALTIME, &start);
+  int result = poll(&fds, 1, *timeout);
+  clock_gettime(CLOCK_REALTIME, &finish);
+  
+  if (result == -1) {
+    fprintf(stderr, "poll error: %s\n", strerror(errno));
+    exit(EXIT_FAILURE);
+  }
+  if (result == 0) {
+    *timeout = 0;
+    return 0;
+  }
+
+  *timeout -= get_time_interval(start, finish);
+  return result;
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/utils.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/utils.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eccf347
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/utils.h
@@ -0,0 +1,18 @@
+#ifndef UTILS_H
+#define UTILS_H
+
+#include <stddef.h>
+#include <time.h>
+
+#define NS_TO_MS(X) ((long)(X) / (long)1000000)
+#define S_TO_MS(X) ((long)(X) * (long)1000)
+
+size_t min(size_t x, size_t y);
+
+int get_socket();
+
+long get_time_interval(struct timespec start, struct timespec finish);
+
+int poll_socket_modify_timeout(int sockfd, int *timeout);
+
+#endif
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/window.c b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/window.c
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c8bffad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/window.c
@@ -0,0 +1,42 @@
+/* Projekt: Transport
+ * Autor: Franciszek Malinka 316093
+ */
+
+#include "window.h"
+#include <stdlib.h>
+#include <strings.h>
+
+void init_window(window_t *w, int window_size, int window_width) {
+  w->ar = malloc(window_size * sizeof(char *));
+  for (int i = 0; i < window_size; i++) 
+    w->ar[i] = malloc(window_width * sizeof(char));
+  w->uptodate = malloc(window_size);
+  bzero (w->uptodate, window_size);
+  w->first_pos = 0;
+  w->size = window_size;
+}
+
+void destroy_window(window_t *w) {
+  for (int i = 0; i < w->size; i++) 
+    free(w->ar[i]);
+  free(w->ar);
+  free(w->uptodate);
+}
+
+void shift_while_uptodate(window_t *w) {
+  while (w->uptodate[w->first_pos]) {
+    w->uptodate[w->first_pos] = false;
+    w->first_pos = (w->first_pos + 1) % w->size;
+  }
+}
+
+void shift(window_t *w) {
+  w->uptodate[w->first_pos] = false;
+  w->first_pos = (w->first_pos + 1) % w->size;
+}
+
+void update(window_t *w, int pos, char *buffer, size_t buf_size) {
+  pos = (w->first_pos + pos) % w->size;
+  for (int i = 0; i < buf_size; i++) w->ar[pos][i] = buffer[i];
+  w->uptodate[pos] = true;
+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/window.h b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/window.h
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..63e89cc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia3/window.h
@@ -0,0 +1,24 @@
+#ifndef WINDOW_H
+#define WINDOW_H
+
+#include <stdbool.h>
+#include <stddef.h>
+
+typedef struct {
+  char **ar;
+  bool *uptodate;
+  int size;
+  int first_pos;
+} window_t;
+
+void init_window(window_t *w, int window_size, int window_width);
+
+void destroy_window(window_t *w);
+
+void shift_while_uptodate(window_t *w);
+
+void shift(window_t *w);
+
+void update(window_t *w, int pos, char *buffer, size_t buf_size);
+
+#endif
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia4/p4.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia4/p4.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bdaa771
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/pracownia4/p4.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty1/w1.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty1/w1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5b50091
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty1/w1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty2/w2.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty2/w2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..60cdc33
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty2/w2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty3/w3.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty3/w3.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b0266ad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty3/w3.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty4/w4.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty4/w4.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1d6b54d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty4/w4.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty5/w5.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty5/w5.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e55fb7b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty5/w5.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty6/w6.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty6/w6.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2f6b6c9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty6/w6.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/lec10.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/lec10.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d64feee
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/lec10.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/lec11.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/lec11.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b48a825
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/lec11.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/lec12.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/lec12.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8bb1580
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/lec12.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/lec9.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/lec9.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c7601b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/lec9.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/notes.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/notes.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a02808f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/notes.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/w1.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/w1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5b50091
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/w1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/w7.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/w7.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..62f35c2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty7/w7.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185551.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185551.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5d5af6a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185551.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,41 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+using namespace std;

+typedef long long ll;

+#define pb push_back

+#define st first

+#define nd second

+

+const int N = 1000007;

+

+map<ll, int> M;

+ll tab[N];

+vector <ll> v;

+queue <pair<ll, int>> q;

+

+int main () {

+    ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);

+    cin.tie(0);

+    ll n, a=-1, b=0;

+    M[0]=1;

+    cin>>n;

+    for(int i=0; i<n; i++) {

+        cin>>tab[i];

+    }

+    sort(tab, tab+n);

+    for(int i=0; i<n; i++) {

+        if(a!=tab[i]) b=0;

+        a=tab[i];

+        if(M[a]-b==0) {

+            for(auto u : M) {

+                if(u.nd>0) q.push({u.st+a, u.nd});

+            }

+            while(!q.empty()) M[q.front().st]+=q.front().nd, q.pop();

+            v.pb(a);

+        }

+        b++;

+    }

+    cout<<v.size()<<"\n";

+    for(auto u : v) {

+        cout<<u<<" ";

+    }

+}

diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185786.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185786.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c858652
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185786.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,59 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+using namespace std;

+

+string jednosci[20] = {"", "jeden ", "dwa ", "trzy ", "cztery ", "piec ", "szesc ", "siedem ", "osiem ", "dziewiec "};

+string setki[20] = {"", "sto ", "dwiescie ", "trzysta ", "czterysta ", "piecset ", "szescset ", "siedemset ", "osiemset ", "dziewiecset "};

+string dziesiatki[20] = {"", "", "dwadziescia ", "trzydziesci ", "czterdziesci ", "piecdziesiat ", "szescdziesiat ", "siedemdziesiat ", "osiemdziesiat ", "dziewiecdziesiat "};

+string nastki[20] = {"dziesiec ", "jedenascie ", "dwanascie ", "trzynascie ", "czternascie ", "pietnascie ", "szesnascie ", "siedemnascie ", "osiemnascie ", "dziewietnascie "};

+string mil[20] = {"milionow ", "milionow ", "miliony ", "miliony ", "miliony ", "milionow ", "milionow ", "milionow ", "milionow ", "milionow "};

+string tys[20] = {"tysiecy ", "tysiecy ", "tysiace ", "tysiace ", "tysiace ", "tysiecy ", "tysiecy ", "tysiecy ", "tysiecy ", "tysiecy "};

+

+string do_stu(int n) {

+    string odp="";

+    if(n!=0) {

+        odp+=setki[n/100];

+        int dzies=(n/10)%10;

+        if(dzies!=1) {

+            odp+=dziesiatki[dzies];

+            odp+=jednosci[n%10];

+        }

+        else odp+=nastki[n%10];

+    }

+    return odp;

+}

+

+string miliony(int n) {

+    string odp="";

+    if(n==1) return "milion ";

+    if(n==0) return "";

+    odp+=do_stu(n);

+    int dzies = (n/10)%10;

+    if(dzies==1) odp+="milionow ";

+    else odp+=mil[n%10];

+    return odp;

+}

+

+string tysiace(int n) {

+    string odp="";

+    if(n==1) return "tysiac ";

+    if(n==0) return "";

+    odp+=do_stu(n);

+    int dzies = (n/10)%10;

+    if(dzies==1) odp+="tysiecy ";

+    else odp+=tys[n%10];

+    return odp;

+}

+

+int main () {

+    ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);

+    cin.tie(0);

+    int n;

+    cin>>n;

+    if(n==0) {

+        cout<<"zero";

+        return 0;

+    }

+    string wynik= miliony(n/1000000)+tysiace((n/1000)%1000)+do_stu(n%1000);

+    cout<<wynik;

+}

+

diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185814.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185814.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2823f37
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185814.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,64 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+using namespace std;

+

+string Jedn[] = {"","jeden","dwa","trzy","cztery","piec","szesc","siedem","osiem","dziewiec"};

+string Nasc[] = {"dziesiec","jedenascie","dwanascie","trzynascie","czternascie","pietnascie","szesnascie","siedemnascie","osiemnascie","dziewietnascie"};

+string Dzie[] = {"","","dwadziescia","trzydziesci","czterdziesci","piecdziesiat","szescdziesiat","siedemdziesiat","osiemdziesiat","dziewiecdziesiat"};

+string Setk[] = {"","sto","dwiescie","trzysta","czterysta","piecset","szescset","siedemset","osiemset","dziewiecset"};

+

+string fragment(int liczba){

+    string ret;

+    int s = liczba/100, d = (liczba/10)%10, j = liczba%10;

+    ret += Setk[s];

+    if(Setk[s] != "") ret += " ";

+

+    if(d == 1) ret += Nasc[j];

+    else{

+        ret += Dzie[d];

+        if(Dzie[d] != "") ret += " ";

+        ret += Jedn[j];

+    } 

+    return ret;

+}

+

+string miliony(int ile){

+    if(ile == 0) return "";

+    if(ile == 1) return "milion";

+    int d = ile%10, j = (ile/10)%10;

+    if((d >= 2 && d <= 4) && j != 1) return "miliony";

+    return "milionow";

+}

+

+string tysiace(int ile){

+    if(ile == 0) return "";

+    if(ile == 1) return "tysiac";

+    int d = ile%10, j = (ile/10)%10;

+    if((d >= 2 && d <= 4) && j != 1) return "tysiace";

+    return "tysiecy";

+}

+

+int main(){

+    int n;

+    string wyr;

+    cin >> n;

+    int mln = n/1000000, tys = (n/1000)%1000, jed = n%1000;

+

+    if(n == 0){

+        cout << "zero";

+        return 0;

+    }

+    

+    wyr = fragment(mln);

+    if(wyr != "jeden") cout << wyr;

+    if(wyr != "" && wyr != "jeden") cout << " ";

+    cout << miliony(mln);

+    if(wyr != "") cout << " ";

+

+    wyr = fragment(tys);

+    if(wyr != "jeden") cout << wyr;

+    if(wyr != "" && wyr != "jeden") cout << " ";

+    cout << tysiace(tys);

+    if(wyr != "") cout << " ";

+

+    cout << fragment(jed);

+}
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185880.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185880.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2643585
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185880.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,131 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+using namespace std;

+

+void dziesiatki ( int x);

+void sety ( int x);

+

+string od1do9[]= { "zero", "jeden", "dwa", "trzy", "cztery", "piec", "szesc", "siedem", "osiem", "dziewiec"};

+string od10do19[]= { "dziesiec", "jedynascie", "dwanascie", "trzynascie", "czternascie", "pietnascie", "szesnascie", "siedemna�cie", "osiemnascie", "dziewietnascie"};

+string od20do90[]= {"", "dwadziescia", "trzydziesci", "czterdziesci", "piecdziesciat", "szescdziesciat", "siedemdziesiat", "osiemdziesiat", "dziewiecdziesiat"};

+string od200do900[]= { "", "dwiescie", "trzysta", "czterysta", "piecset", "szescset", "siedemset", "osiemset", "dziewiecset"};

+

+void miliony ( int x) {

+	if ( x==1) {

+		cout<<"milion ";

+		return;

+	}

+

+	 dziesiatki(x);

+	 if ( x >= 2 && x<=4) {

+	 	cout<<"miliony ";

+	 } else {

+	 	cout<<"milionow ";

+	 }

+}

+

+void tysiace ( int x) {

+	if ( x==1) {

+		cout<<"tysiac ";

+	} else {

+		if ( x==100) {

+			cout<<"sto tysiecy";

+		} else {

+			if ( x<10) {

+				if ( x<=4) {

+					cout<<od1do9[x]<<" "<<"tysiace ";

+				} else {

+					cout<<od1do9[x]<<" "<<"tysiacy ";

+				}

+				

+			} else {

+			

+			if ( x>=10 && x<=99) {

+			dziesiatki(x);

+			} else {

+				cout<<od200do900[x/100-1]<<" ";

+				if ( x%100>=10) {

+					dziesiatki(x);

+				} 

+				else {

+					if ( x%100>=1 && x%100<=9) {

+						cout<<od1do9[x]<<" ";

+					}

+				}

+				

+			}

+			cout<<"tysiecy ";

+		}

+		}

+		

+	}

+}

+

+void sety ( int x) {

+	if ( x<100) {

+		if ( x>=10) {

+			dziesiatki(x);

+		} else {

+			if (x!=0) {

+				cout<<od1do9[x]<<" ";

+			}

+			

+		}

+	} else {

+		

+	if ( x==100) {

+		cout<<"sto ";

+	} else {

+		if ( x/100==1) {

+			cout<<"sto ";

+			dziesiatki(x%100);

+		} else {

+			cout<<od200do900[x/100-1]<<" ";

+			dziesiatki(x%100);

+		}

+		

+		

+	}

+}

+}

+

+

+void dziesiatki ( int x) {

+	if ( x!=0) {

+	if ( x/10 == 1) {

+		cout<<od10do19[x%10]<<" ";

+	} else {

+		if ( x%10==0) {

+			cout<<od20do90[x/10-1]<<" ";

+		}

+		if ( x/10==0 &&  x%10!=0) {

+			

+			cout<<od1do9[x/10]<<" ";

+		} else {

+			assert ( x/10!=0);

+			assert ( x%10!=0);

+				cout<<od20do90[x/10-1]<<" ";

+				cout<<od1do9[x%10]<<" ";

+		}

+		

+	}

+}

+}

+

+int main() {

+  ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);

+  cin.tie(0);

+  int n;

+  cin>>n;

+  if ( n>=1000000) {

+  	miliony ( n/1000000);

+  } 

+  	n=n%1000000;

+  	if ( n>=1000) {

+  		tysiace( n/1000);

+	  }

+	   	n=n%1000;

+	   

+	  	sety (n);

+}

+

+//b�edy 999999

diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185951.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185951.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df7c356
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185951.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,109 @@
+#include<iostream>

+using namespace std;

+

+int max_miesiac[12]={31,28,31,30,31,30,31,31,30,31,30,31};

+string dzien[2]={"dzien","dni"};

+string godziny[3]={"godzina","godziny","godzin"};

+string minuty[3]={"minuta","minuty","minut"};

+string sekundy[3]={"sekunda","sekundy","sekund"};

+

+string wypisz(int a, char wyz)

+{

+    int dz=a/10;

+    int j=a%10;

+    if(wyz=='g'){

+        if(j==1 and dz==0){

+            return godziny[0];

+        }else{

+            if(j>=2 and j<=4 and (dz>=2 or dz==0)){

+                return godziny[1];

+            }else{

+                return godziny[2];

+            }

+        }

+    }

+    if(wyz=='m'){

+        if(j==1 and dz==0){

+            return minuty[0];

+        }else{

+            if(j>=2 and j<=4 and (dz>=2 or dz==0)){

+                return minuty[1];

+            }else{

+                return minuty[2];

+            }

+        }

+    }

+    if(wyz=='s'){

+        if(j==1 and dz==0){

+            return sekundy[0];

+        }else{

+            if(j>=2 and j<=4 and (dz>=2 or dz==0)){

+                return sekundy[1];

+            }else{

+                return sekundy[2];

+            }

+        }

+    }

+    return "";

+}

+

+int main(){

+int rok,mies,dni,godz,mi,sek;

+long long time1=0,time2=0;

+char p;

+cin>>rok>>p>>mies>>p>>dni>>godz>>p>>mi>>p>>sek;

+time1=time1+sek+(mi*60)+(godz*3600)+((dni-1)*86400);

+for(int i=0;i<mies-1;i++){

+    if(i==1 and (rok%4==0 and rok!=1900)){

+        time1+=(29*86400);

+    }else{

+        time1+=(max_miesiac[i]*86400);

+    }

+}

+for(int i=1900;i<rok;i++){

+    if(i%4==0 and i!=1900){

+        time1+=(366*86400);

+    }else{

+        time1+=(365*86400);

+    }

+}

+cin>>rok>>p>>mies>>p>>dni>>godz>>p>>mi>>p>>sek;

+cin>>p;

+time2=time2+sek+(mi*60)+(godz*3600)+((dni-1)*86400);

+for(int i=0;i<mies-1;i++){

+    if(i==1 and (rok%4==0 and rok!=1900)){

+        time2+=(29*86400);

+    }else{

+        time2+=(max_miesiac[i]*86400);

+    }

+}

+for(int i=1900;i<rok;i++){

+    if(i%4==0 and i!=1900){

+        time2+=(366*86400);

+    }else{

+        time2+=(365*86400);

+    }

+}

+time1=time2-time1;

+dni=time1/86400;

+godz=(time1/3600)%24;

+mi=(time1/60)%60;

+sek=time1%60;

+if(dni>0){

+    if(dni==1){

+        cout<<dni<<" "<<dzien[0]<<" ";

+    }else{

+        cout<<dni<<" "<<dzien[1]<<" ";

+    }

+}

+if(godz>0){

+    cout<<godz<<" "<<wypisz(godz,'g')<<" ";

+}

+if(mi>0){

+    cout<<mi<<" "<<wypisz(mi,'m')<<" ";

+}

+if(sek>0){

+    cout<<sek<<" "<<wypisz(sek,'s')<<" ";

+}

+return 0;

+}

diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185952.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185952.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4dc8f72
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185952.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,113 @@
+#include<bits/stdc++.h>

+using namespace std;

+

+int tab[13]= {31,28,31,30,31,30,31,31,30,31,30,31};

+

+int czas(string dt,string g)

+{

+    int lata,msc,dni;

+    long long c1,c2;

+    lata=dt[0]*1000+dt[1]*100+dt[2]*10+dt[3]-'0'*1111-1900;

+    msc=dt[5]*10+dt[6]-11*'0';

+    dni=0;

+    c1=(dt[8]*10+dt[9]-11*'0'-1)*86400;

+    c1+=(g[0]*10+g[1]-11*'0')*3600;

+    c1+=(g[3]*10+g[4]-11*'0')*60;

+    c1+=g[6]*10+g[7]-11*'0';

+    for(int i=0; i<lata*12+msc-1; i++)

+    {

+        if(i%48==0 && dt[1]!=9  && dt[2]!=0  && dt[3]!=0)

+        {

+            c1+=86400;

+        }

+        c1+=tab[i%12]*86400;

+    }

+    return c1;

+}

+int main()

+{

+    long long wynik=0;

+    string dt,g;

+    cin >> dt >> g;

+    long long w1=czas(dt,g);

+    cin >> dt >> g;

+    int n;

+    cin >> n;

+    long long w2=czas(dt,g);

+    long long w=w2-w1;

+    int d=w/86400;

+    w%=86400;

+    int h=w/3600;

+    w%=3600;

+    int m=w/60;

+    w%=60;

+    int s=w;

+    if(d!=0)

+    {

+        cout << d << ' ';

+        if(d==1)

+        {

+            cout << "dzien ";

+        }

+        else

+        {

+            cout << "dni ";

+        }

+    }

+    if(h!=0)

+    {

+        cout << h << ' ';

+        if(h==1)

+        {

+            cout << "godzina ";

+        }

+        else if(h%10>=2 && h%10<=4 && (h<=11 || h>=15))

+        {

+            cout << "godziny ";

+        }

+        else

+        {

+            cout << "godzin ";

+        }

+

+    }

+    if(m!=0)

+    {

+        cout << m << ' ';

+        if(m==1)

+        {

+            cout << "minuta ";

+        }

+        else if(m%10>=2 && m%10<=4 && (m<=11 || m>=15))

+        {

+            cout << "minuty ";

+        }

+        else

+        {

+            cout << "minut ";

+        }

+

+    }

+    if(s!=0)

+    {

+        cout << s << ' ';

+        if(s==1)

+        {

+            cout << "sekunda ";

+        }

+        else if(h%10>=2 && h%10<=4 && (h<=11 || h>=15))

+        {

+            cout << "sekundy ";

+        }

+        else

+        {

+            cout << "sekund ";

+        }

+

+    }

+    cout << "\n";

+}

+

+

+

+

diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185992.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185992.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..491f748
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/185992.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,117 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+using namespace std;

+

+void dziesiatki ( int x);

+void sety ( int x);

+

+string od1do9[]= { "zero", "jeden", "dwa", "trzy", "cztery", "piec", "szesc", "siedem", "osiem", "dziewiec"};

+string od10do19[]= { "dziesiec", "jedenascie", "dwanascie", "trzynascie", "czternascie", "pietnascie", "szesnascie", "siedemnascie", "osiemnascie", "dziewietnascie"};

+string od20do90[]= {"", "dwadziescia", "trzydziesci", "czterdziesci", "piecdziesiat", "szescdziesiat", "siedemdziesiat", "osiemdziesiat", "dziewiecdziesiat"};

+string od200do900[]= { "", "dwiescie", "trzysta", "czterysta", "piecset", "szescset", "siedemset", "osiemset", "dziewiecset"};

+

+void miliony ( int x) {

+	if ( x==1) {

+		cout<<"milion ";

+		return;

+	}

+		dziesiatki(x);

+	 if ( ( x >= 2 && x<=4) || ( x%10 >= 2 && x%10<=4) ) {

+	 	cout<<"miliony ";

+	 	return;

+	 } else {

+	 	cout<<"milionow ";

+	 	return;

+ 	}

+

+}

+

+void tysiace ( int x) {

+	if ( x==1) {

+		cout<<"tysiac ";

+		return;

+	}

+		if ( x==100) {

+			cout<<"sto tysiecy";

+			return;

+		}

+			if ( x<10) {

+				if ( x<=4) {

+					cout<<od1do9[x]<<" "<<"tysiace ";

+				} else {

+					cout<<od1do9[x]<<" "<<"tysiecy ";

+				}

+				return;

+			}

+			if ( x>=10 && x<=99) {

+			dziesiatki(x);

+			if ( x%10>=2 && x%10<=4) {

+				cout<<"tysiece ";

+				return;

+			}

+			cout<<"tysiecy ";

+			return;

+			}

+				cout<<od200do900[x/100-1]<<" ";

+					dziesiatki(x%100);

+				

+			cout<<"tysiecy ";

+}

+

+void sety ( int x) {

+	if ( x<100) {

+		if ( x>=10 ) {

+			dziesiatki(x);

+			return;

+		} 

+			if (x!=0 && x<10) {

+				cout<<od1do9[x]<<" ";

+				return;

+			}

+	}

+		

+	if ( x==100) {

+		cout<<"sto ";

+		return;

+	}

+		if ( x/100==1) {

+			cout<<"sto ";

+			dziesiatki(x%100);

+			return;

+		}

+			cout<<od200do900[x/100-1]<<" ";

+			dziesiatki(x%100);

+}

+

+

+void dziesiatki ( int x) {

+	if ( x!=0) {

+	if ( x/10 == 1) {

+		cout<<od10do19[x%10]<<" ";

+		return;

+	}

+ 	 	if ( x/10 == 0 && x%10 != 0) {

+ 	 		cout<<od1do9[x%10]<<" ";

+ 	 		return;

+		  }

+		cout<<od20do90[x/10-1]<<" ";

+		if ( x%10!=0) {

+			cout<<od1do9[x%10]<<" ";

+		}

+}

+}

+

+int main() {

+  ios_base::sync_with_stdio(false);

+  cin.tie(0);

+  int n;

+  cin>>n;

+  if ( n>=1000000) {

+  	miliony ( n/1000000);

+  } 

+  	n=n%1000000;

+  	if ( n>=1000) {

+  		tysiace( n/1000);

+	  }

+	   	n=n%1000;

+	  	sety (n);

+}

diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/186033.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/186033.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..85911e3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/186033.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,101 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+

+using namespace std;

+

+#define st first

+#define nd second

+#define pb push_back

+#define sz(x) (int)(x).size()

+#define ll long long

+ll mod=1000000007;

+int inf=1000000007;

+ll infl=1000000000000000007;

+

+int seg[4*600007];

+int lazy[4*600007];

+int pot=1;

+

+void push(int v,int sz)

+{

+    if(lazy[v]!=0)

+    {

+        seg[2*v]=sz/2*lazy[v];

+        lazy[2*v]=lazy[v];

+        seg[2*v+1]=sz/2*lazy[v];

+        lazy[2*v+1]=lazy[v];

+    }

+    lazy[v]=0;

+}

+

+void ins(int u,int a,int b,int l,int r,int v)

+{

+    if(a<=l&&b>=r)

+    {

+        lazy[u]=v;

+        seg[u]=(r-l+1)*v;

+        return ;

+    }

+    if(l>b||r<a) return ;

+    push(u,r-l+1);

+    ins(2*u,a,b,l,(l+r)/2,v);

+    ins(2*u+1,a,b,(l+r)/2+1,r,v);

+    seg[u]=seg[2*u]+seg[2*u+1];

+}

+

+int que(int u,int a,int b,int l,int r)

+{

+    if(a<=l&&b>=r) return seg[u];

+    if(l>b||r<a) return 0;

+    push(u,r-l+1);

+    return que(2*u,a,b,l,(l+r)/2)+que(2*u+1,a,b,(l+r)/2+1,r);

+}

+

+unordered_map<int,int>mapa;

+int l[100007];

+int r[100007];

+

+int main()

+{

+    ios_base::sync_with_stdio(0);

+    cin.tie(0);

+    cout.tie(0);

+    int n,h,ans=2;

+    cin>>n>>h;

+    set<int>S;

+    S.insert(1);

+    S.insert(h);

+    for(int i=1;i<=n;i++)

+    {

+        cin>>l[i]>>r[i];

+        l[i]++;

+        if(l[i]!=h) S.insert(l[i]+1);

+        if(l[i]!=1) S.insert(l[i]-1);

+        if(r[i]!=h) S.insert(r[i]+1);

+        if(r[i]!=1) S.insert(r[i]-1);

+        S.insert(l[i]);

+        S.insert(r[i]);

+    }

+    int it=0;

+    mapa.reserve(sz(S)+2);

+    for(auto x:S) mapa[x]=++it;

+    for(int i=1;i<=n;i++)

+    {

+        l[i]=mapa[l[i]];

+        r[i]=mapa[r[i]];

+    }

+    while(pot<it) pot*=2;

+    ins(1,1,it,1,pot,2);

+    for(int i=1;i<=n;i++)

+    {

+        ins(1,l[i],r[i],1,pot,1);

+        if(seg[1]==it)

+        {

+            ans+=2;

+            ins(1,1,l[i]-1,1,pot,2);

+            ins(1,r[i]+1,it,1,pot,2);

+        }

+    }

+    cout<<ans;

+

+    return 0;

+}

diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/186164.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/186164.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d747a00
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/186164.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,270 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+

+using namespace std;

+

+#define st first

+#define nd second

+#define pb push_back

+#define sz(x) (int)(x).size()

+#define ll long long

+ll mod=1000000007;

+int inf=1000000007;

+ll infl=1000000000000000007;

+

+int a[77][77];

+int id[77][77];

+int id1[77][77];

+int id2[77][77];

+set<int>G[15007];

+int cap1[3507][3507];

+unordered_map<int,int>cap[15007];

+int o[15007];

+bool odw[15007];

+int s=1,t;

+char ans[77][77][3][3];

+

+bool dfs(int v)

+{

+    //cout<<v<<endl;

+    odw[v]=1;

+    if(v==t) return 1;

+    for(auto u:G[v])

+    {

+        if(odw[u]) continue;

+        o[u]=v;

+        if(dfs(u)) return 1;

+    }

+    return 0;

+}

+

+int flow()

+{

+    int F=0;

+    while(dfs(s))

+    {

+        memset(odw,0,sizeof odw);

+        int p=t,f=inf;

+        while(p!=s)

+        {

+            if(o[p]<=3500&&p<=3500) f=min(f,cap1[o[p]][p]);

+            else f=min(f,cap[o[p]][p]);

+            p=o[p];

+        }

+        F+=f;

+        p=t;

+        while(p!=s)

+        {

+            if(o[p]<=3500&&p<=3500)

+            {

+                cap1[o[p]][p]-=f;

+                if(cap1[o[p]][p]==0) G[o[p]].erase(p);

+                cap1[p][o[p]]+=f;

+            }

+            else

+            {

+                cap[o[p]][p]-=f;

+                if(cap[o[p]][p]==0) G[o[p]].erase(p);

+                cap[p][o[p]]+=f;

+            }

+            G[p].insert(o[p]);

+            p=o[p];

+        }

+    }

+    return F;

+}

+

+void gg()

+{

+    cout<<"NIE";

+    exit(0);

+}

+

+void edge(int u,int v,int c)

+{

+    G[u].insert(v);

+    if(u<=3500&&v<=3500) cap1[u][v]=c;

+    else cap[u][v]=c;

+}

+

+

+void connect(int x,int y,int x1,int y1)

+{

+    if(a[x][y]==2)

+    {

+        if(a[x1][y1]==2)

+        {

+            if(x==x1) edge(id2[x][y],id2[x1][y1],1);

+            else edge(id1[x][y],id1[x1][y1],1);

+        }

+        else

+        {

+            if(x==x1) edge(id2[x][y],id[x1][y1],1);

+            else edge(id1[x][y],id[x1][y1],1);

+        }

+    }

+    else

+    {

+        if(a[x1][y1]==2)

+        {

+            if(x==x1) edge(id[x][y],id2[x1][y1],1);

+            else edge(id[x][y],id1[x1][y1],1);

+        }

+        else edge(id[x][y],id[x1][y1],1);

+    }

+}

+bool is(int x,int y,int x1,int y1)

+{

+    if(a[x][y]==2)

+    {

+        if(a[x1][y1]==2)

+        {

+            if(x==x1) return G[id2[x][y]].count(id2[x1][y1]);

+            else return G[id1[x][y]].count(id1[x1][y1]);

+        }

+        else

+        {

+            if(x==x1) return G[id2[x][y]].count(id[x1][y1]);

+            else return G[id1[x][y]].count(id[x1][y1]);

+        }

+    }

+    else

+    {

+        if(a[x1][y1]==2)

+        {

+            if(x==x1) return G[id[x][y]].count(id2[x1][y1]);

+            else return G[id[x][y]].count(id1[x1][y1]);

+        }

+        else return G[id[x][y]].count(id[x1][y1]);

+    }

+}

+

+int main()

+{

+    ios_base::sync_with_stdio(0);

+    cin.tie(0);

+    cout.tie(0);

+    int n,m,sum[2]={0,0};

+    cin>>n>>m;

+    for(int i=1;i<=n;i++)

+    {

+        for(int j=1;j<=m;j++)

+        {

+            cin>>a[i][j];

+            for(int k=0;k<3;k++) for(int l=0;l<3;l++) ans[i][j][k][l]='.';

+            if(a[i][j]!=0) ans[i][j][1][1]='O';

+            sum[(i+j)%2]+=a[i][j];

+        }

+    }

+    if(sum[0]!=sum[1]) gg();

+    edge(1,2,sum[0]);

+    int it=2;

+    for(int i=1;i<=n;i++)

+    {

+        for(int j=1;j<=m;j++)

+        {

+            if(a[i][j]==0) continue;

+            id[i][j]=++it;

+            if(a[i][j]==2)

+            {

+                id1[i][j]=++it;

+                id2[i][j]=++it;

+                if((i+j)%2)

+                {

+                    edge(id[i][j],id1[i][j],1);

+                    edge(id[i][j],id2[i][j],1);

+                }

+                else

+                {

+                    edge(id1[i][j],id[i][j],1);

+                    edge(id2[i][j],id[i][j],1);

+                }

+            }

+        }

+    }

+    it+=2;

+    t=it;

+    edge(it-1,it,sum[0]);

+    for(int i=1;i<=n;i++)

+    {

+        for(int j=1;j<=m;j++)

+        {

+            if(a[i][j]==0) continue;

+            if((i+j)%2) edge(2,id[i][j],a[i][j]);

+            else edge(id[i][j],it-1,a[i][j]);

+        }

+    }

+    for(int i=1;i<=n;i++)

+    {

+        for(int j=1;j<=m;j++)

+        {

+            if((i+j)%2==0||a[i][j]==0) continue;

+            if(a[i-1][j]!=0) connect(i,j,i-1,j);

+            if(a[i+1][j]!=0) connect(i,j,i+1,j);

+            if(a[i][j-1]!=0) connect(i,j,i,j-1);

+            if(a[i][j+1]!=0) connect(i,j,i,j+1);

+        }

+    }

+    if(flow()!=sum[0]) gg();

+    //cout<<sum[0]<<endl;

+    for(int i=1;i<=n;i++)

+    {

+        for(int j=1;j<=m;j++)

+        {

+            if((i+j)%2==0||a[i][j]==0) continue;

+            if(a[i-1][j]!=0)

+            {

+                if(!is(i,j,i-1,j))

+                {

+                    //cout<<i<<" "<<j<<" "<<i-1<<" "<<j<<endl;

+                    ans[i][j][0][1]='X';

+                    ans[i-1][j][2][1]='X';

+                }

+            }

+            if(a[i+1][j]!=0)

+            {

+                if(!is(i,j,i+1,j))

+                {

+                   // cout<<i<<" "<<j<<" "<<i+1<<" "<<j<<endl;

+                    ans[i][j][2][1]='X';

+                    ans[i+1][j][0][1]='X';

+                }

+            }

+            if(a[i][j-1]!=0)

+            {

+                if(!is(i,j,i,j-1))

+                {

+                   // cout<<i<<" "<<j<<" "<<i<<" "<<j-1<<endl;

+                    ans[i][j][1][0]='X';

+                    ans[i][j-1][1][2]='X';

+                }

+            }

+            if(a[i][j+1]!=0)

+            {

+                if(!is(i,j,i,j+1))

+                {

+                 //   cout<<i<<" "<<j<<" "<<i<<" "<<j+1<<endl;

+                    ans[i][j][1][2]='X';

+                    ans[i][j+1][1][0]='X';

+                }

+            }

+        }

+    }

+    for(int i=1;i<=n;i++)

+    {

+        for(int k=0;k<3;k++)

+        {

+            for(int j=1;j<=m;j++)

+            {

+                for(int l=0;l<3;l++)

+                {

+                    cout<<ans[i][j][k][l];

+                }

+            }

+            cout<<endl;

+        }

+    }

+

+

+

+    return 0;

+}

diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/Twierdzenie_o_pierwiastkach_wymi.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/Twierdzenie_o_pierwiastkach_wymi.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ab7bb2c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/Twierdzenie_o_pierwiastkach_wymi.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/dat0-check.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/dat0-check.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3ca4111
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/dat0-check.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,58 @@
+//Krzysztof Boryczka
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>
+using namespace std;
+
+typedef long long ll;
+typedef long double ld;
+typedef pair<int, int> ii;
+typedef vector<int> vi;
+typedef vector<ii> vii;
+const int inf=0x3f3f3f3f;
+const ll INF=0x3f3f3f3f3f3f3f3f;
+
+#define FOR(i, b, e) for(int i=b; i<=e; i++)
+#define FORD(i, b, e) for(int i=b; i>=e; i--)
+#define SIZE(x) ((int)x.size())
+#define pb push_back
+#define st first
+#define nd second
+#define sp ' '
+#define ent '\n'
+
+ifstream out, wzor, in;
+
+int main(int argc, char *argv[]){
+	assert(argc>=4);
+
+	out.open(argv[1]);
+	wzor.open(argv[2]);
+	in.open(argv[3]);
+
+	vector<string> ans, user;
+	string pom;
+	while(wzor>>pom) ans.pb(pom);
+	while(out>>pom) user.pb(pom);
+	FOR(i, 1, 5) in>>pom;
+
+	if(ans!=user)
+	{
+		if(pom != "0" && pom != "1" && pom != "3" && pom != "5"){
+			cout << "Zla odpowiedz\n";
+			exit(1);
+		}
+		int d=0, g=0, m=0, s=0;
+		FOR(i, 0, SIZE(ans)-1){
+			if(ans[i][0]=='d') d=stoi(ans[i-1]);
+			if(ans[i][0]=='g') g=stoi(ans[i-1]);
+			if(ans[i][0]=='m') m=stoi(ans[i-1]);
+			if(ans[i][0]=='s') s=stoi(ans[i-1]);
+		}
+		if(SIZE(user)!=4 || stoi(user[0])!=d || stoi(user[1])!=g || stoi(user[2])!=m || stoi(user[3])!=s){
+			cout << "Zla odpowiedz\n";
+			exit(1);
+		}
+	}
+
+	cout << "OK\n";
+	exit(0);
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/dat0-check.e b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/dat0-check.e
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b0dcc41
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/dat0-check.e
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/dat0-gen.sh b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/dat0-gen.sh
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a1640b1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/dat0-gen.sh
@@ -0,0 +1,107 @@
+#!/bin/bash
+
+echo -e "2019-01-08 00:00:00\n2019-01-09 00:00:00\n1" > dat1a.in
+echo -e "2019-01-25 00:00:00\n2019-02-13 00:00:00\n1" > dat1b.in
+echo -e "2019-01-25 00:00:00\n2019-03-13 00:00:00\n1" > dat1c.in
+echo -e "2020-01-25 00:00:00\n2020-03-13 00:00:00\n1" > dat1d.in
+echo -e "2000-01-25 00:00:00\n2000-03-13 00:00:00\n1" > dat1e.in
+echo -e "2019-01-25 00:00:00\n2019-02-27 00:00:00\n1" > dat1f.in
+echo -e "2019-01-25 00:00:00\n2019-03-27 00:00:00\n1" > dat1g.in
+echo -e "2020-01-25 00:00:00\n2020-03-27 00:00:00\n1" > dat1h.in
+echo -e "2000-01-25 00:00:00\n2000-03-27 00:00:00\n1" > dat1i.in
+echo -e "2003-01-01 00:00:00\n2004-01-01 00:00:00\n1" > dat1j.in
+echo -e "2004-01-01 00:00:00\n2005-01-01 00:00:00\n1" > dat1k.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2001-01-01 00:00:00\n1" > dat1l.in
+echo -e "1999-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 00:00:00\n1" > dat1m.in
+echo -e "1900-01-01 00:00:00\n2099-12-31 00:00:00\n1" > dat1n.in
+echo -e "1945-04-17 00:00:00\n1974-01-17 00:00:00\n1" > dat1o.in
+echo -e "2019-02-09 00:00:00\n2030-09-01 00:00:00\n1" > dat1p.in
+echo -e "1992-11-13 00:00:00\n2049-01-13 00:00:00\n1" > dat1q.in
+
+echo -e "2019-01-08 00:00:00\n2019-01-09 00:00:00\n2" > dat2a.in
+echo -e "2019-01-25 00:00:00\n2019-02-13 00:00:00\n2" > dat2b.in
+echo -e "2019-01-25 00:00:00\n2019-03-13 00:00:00\n2" > dat2c.in
+echo -e "2020-01-25 00:00:00\n2020-03-13 00:00:00\n2" > dat2d.in
+echo -e "2000-01-25 00:00:00\n2000-03-13 00:00:00\n2" > dat2e.in
+echo -e "2019-01-25 00:00:00\n2019-02-27 00:00:00\n2" > dat2f.in
+echo -e "2019-01-25 00:00:00\n2019-03-27 00:00:00\n2" > dat2g.in
+echo -e "2020-01-25 00:00:00\n2020-03-27 00:00:00\n2" > dat2h.in
+echo -e "2000-01-25 00:00:00\n2000-03-27 00:00:00\n2" > dat2i.in
+echo -e "2003-01-01 00:00:00\n2004-01-01 00:00:00\n2" > dat2j.in
+echo -e "2004-01-01 00:00:00\n2005-01-01 00:00:00\n2" > dat2k.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2001-01-01 00:00:00\n2" > dat2l.in
+echo -e "1999-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2" > dat2m.in
+echo -e "1900-01-01 00:00:00\n2099-12-31 00:00:00\n2" > dat2n.in
+echo -e "1945-04-17 00:00:00\n1974-01-17 00:00:00\n2" > dat2o.in
+echo -e "2019-02-09 00:00:00\n2030-09-01 00:00:00\n2" > dat2p.in
+echo -e "1992-11-13 00:00:00\n2049-01-13 00:00:00\n2" > dat2q.in
+
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 00:00:01\n3" > dat3a.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 00:01:00\n3" > dat3b.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 01:00:00\n3" > dat3c.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 03:17:29\n3" > dat3d.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 19:15:59\n3" > dat3e.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 23:59:59\n3" > dat3f.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:01\n2000-01-01 00:01:00\n3" > dat3g.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:01\n2000-01-01 01:00:00\n3" > dat3h.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:01\n2000-01-01 03:17:29\n3" > dat3i.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:01\n2000-01-01 19:15:59\n3" > dat3j.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:01\n2000-01-01 23:59:59\n3" > dat3k.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 02:01:01\n2000-01-01 03:17:29\n3" > dat3l.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 04:01:01\n2000-01-01 19:15:59\n3" > dat3m.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 04:17:39\n2000-01-01 23:59:59\n3" > dat3n.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 02:01:57\n2000-01-01 03:17:29\n3" > dat3o.in
+
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 00:00:01\n4" > dat4a.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 00:01:00\n4" > dat4b.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 01:00:00\n4" > dat4c.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 03:17:29\n4" > dat4d.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 19:15:59\n4" > dat4e.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:00\n2000-01-01 23:59:59\n4" > dat4f.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:01\n2000-01-01 00:01:00\n4" > dat4g.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:01\n2000-01-01 01:00:00\n4" > dat4h.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:01\n2000-01-01 03:17:29\n4" > dat4i.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:01\n2000-01-01 19:15:59\n4" > dat4j.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 00:00:01\n2000-01-01 23:59:59\n4" > dat4k.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 02:01:01\n2000-01-01 03:17:29\n4" > dat4l.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 04:01:01\n2000-01-01 19:15:59\n4" > dat4m.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 04:17:39\n2000-01-01 23:59:59\n4" > dat4n.in
+echo -e "2000-01-01 02:01:57\n2000-01-01 03:17:29\n4" > dat4o.in
+
+echo -e "1917-06-04 13:25:19\n2045-04-19 11:17:39\n5" > dat5a.in
+echo -e "1992-07-02 00:05:19\n2019-01-08 17:53:13\n5" > dat5b.in
+echo -e "1900-01-01 00:00:00\n2099-12-31 23:59:59\n5" > dat5c.in
+echo -e "1900-01-01 23:59:59\n2099-12-31 00:00:00\n5" > dat5d.in
+echo -e "1959-10-13 17:14:40\n1965-10-25 19:10:53\n5" > dat5e.in
+echo -e "2059-04-30 01:15:49\n2071-03-01 10:07:13\n5" > dat5f.in
+echo -e "2010-02-19 20:49:10\n2061-02-28 15:40:49\n5" > dat5g.in
+
+echo -e "1917-06-04 13:25:19\n2045-04-19 11:17:39\n6" > dat6a.in
+echo -e "1992-07-02 00:05:19\n2019-01-08 17:53:13\n6" > dat6b.in
+echo -e "1900-01-01 00:00:00\n2099-12-31 23:59:59\n6" > dat6c.in
+echo -e "1900-01-01 23:59:59\n2099-12-31 00:00:00\n6" > dat6d.in
+echo -e "1959-10-13 17:14:40\n1965-10-25 19:10:53\n6" > dat6e.in
+echo -e "2059-04-30 01:15:49\n2071-03-01 10:07:13\n6" > dat6f.in
+echo -e "2010-02-19 20:49:10\n2061-02-28 15:40:49\n6" > dat6g.in
+
+echo -e "2010-10-10 11:59:59\n2010-11-02 10:22:21\n5" > dat5h.in
+echo -e "1999-12-31 23:59:59\n2000-01-02 01:01:00\n5" > dat5i.in
+echo -e "1985-01-15 21:55:53\n2009-11-12 23:21:10\n5" > dat5j.in
+echo -e "2042-04-12 13:14:15\n2042-05-06 01:36:48\n5" > dat5k.in
+echo -e "1931-01-01 23:01:58\n1931-01-01 23:59:58\n5" > dat5l.in
+echo -e "2002-11-30 01:01:02\n2053-03-04 02:46:42\n5" > dat5m.in
+echo -e "2022-02-22 22:59:23\n2022-03-01 04:03:26\n5" > dat5n.in
+echo -e "1974-12-12 13:41:42\n2052-07-12 15:14:37\n5" > dat5o.in
+echo -e "1922-12-31 23:59:59\n2022-01-02 00:00:00\n5" > dat5p.in
+
+echo -e "1997-01-12 22:59:23\n1997-02-15 00:01:26\n6" > dat6h.in
+echo -e "1999-10-12 10:00:00\n2004-04-04 10:10:00\n6" > dat6i.in
+echo -e "1923-03-14 11:22:53\n2009-11-12 11:21:34\n6" > dat6j.in
+echo -e "2022-12-31 00:01:02\n2022-12-31 01:01:02\n6" > dat6k.in
+echo -e "1988-11-11 12:11:59\n1989-01-01 11:10:02\n6" > dat6l.in
+echo -e "2002-11-30 01:01:02\n2053-03-04 01:46:42\n6" > dat6m.in
+echo -e "2022-02-22 22:59:23\n2022-03-01 03:03:26\n6" > dat6n.in
+echo -e "1974-12-12 13:41:42\n2052-07-12 11:14:37\n6" > dat6o.in
+echo -e "1922-12-31 23:59:59\n2022-01-02 20:00:00\n6" > dat6p.in
+
+g++ dat0-check.cpp -o dat0-check.e -O2 -std=c++11
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/mie1.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/mie1.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f7eef7e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/mie1.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,64 @@
+#include <cstdio>
+#include <algorithm>
+#include <cmath>
+using namespace std;
+
+#define EPS 0.000001
+
+int main() {
+	int numLiquids, reqCon, liquid[101];
+	double sumSubst=0, sumLiquid=0, actCon;
+
+	fill(liquid,liquid+101,0);
+
+	scanf("%d%d",&numLiquids,&reqCon);
+
+	for (int i=0;i<numLiquids;i++) {
+		int con, amount;
+
+		scanf("%d%d",&con,&amount);
+
+		liquid[con]+=amount;
+		sumSubst+=(double)(amount*con)/100;
+		sumLiquid+=(double)amount;
+	}
+
+	if (sumLiquid==0) {
+		printf("0.000\n");
+		return 0;
+	}
+
+	actCon=(sumSubst/sumLiquid)*100;
+
+	for (int i=0;i<=100;i++) {
+		if ((actCon<(double)reqCon)&&(liquid[i]>0)) {
+			double perc=(double)i/100, toSub=(double)((double)reqCon*sumLiquid-100*sumSubst)/((double)reqCon-(double)100*perc);
+			
+			toSub=min(toSub,(double)liquid[i]);
+
+			sumLiquid-=toSub;
+			sumSubst-=(toSub*i)/100;
+		}
+		if ((actCon>(double)reqCon)&&(liquid[100-i]>0)) {
+			double perc=(double)(100-i)/100, toSub=(double)((double)reqCon*sumLiquid-100*sumSubst)/((double)reqCon-(double)100*perc);
+
+			toSub=min(toSub,(double)liquid[100-i]);
+
+			sumLiquid-=toSub;
+			sumSubst-=(toSub*(100-i))/100;
+		}
+		
+		if (sumLiquid==0) {
+			printf("0.000\n");
+			return 0;
+		}
+		actCon=(sumSubst/sumLiquid)*100;
+
+		if (fabs((double)reqCon-actCon)<EPS)
+			break;
+	}
+	
+	printf("%.3lf\n",sumLiquid);
+
+	return 0;
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/prz8-wzo2.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/prz8-wzo2.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1b7193f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/prz8-wzo2.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,177 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+

+using namespace std;

+

+const int MAXN = 70;

+int tab[MAXN][MAXN];

+char out[3*MAXN][3*MAXN];

+int N, M;

+

+int id(int x, int y, int strona){ //0 - prawo, 1 - g�ra, 2 - lewo, 3 - d��

+	if(strona == 0){

+		if(x+1 >= N) return -1;

+		if(tab[x+1][y] == 0) return -1;

+		if(tab[x+1][y] == 1) return 5*(MAXN*(x+1)+y);

+		if(tab[x+1][y] == 2) return 5*(MAXN*(x+1)+y);

+		if(tab[x+1][y] == 3) return 5*(MAXN*(x+1)+y)+2;

+		if(tab[x+1][y] == 4) return 5*(MAXN*(x+1)+y)+2;

+	}

+	if(strona == 1){

+		if(y+1 >= M) return -1;

+		if(tab[x][y+1] == 0) return -1;

+		if(tab[x][y+1] == 1) return 5*(MAXN*x+y+1);

+		if(tab[x][y+1] == 2) return 5*(MAXN*x+y+1)+1;

+		if(tab[x][y+1] == 3) return 5*(MAXN*x+y+1)+3;

+		if(tab[x][y+1] == 4) return 5*(MAXN*x+y+1)+3;

+	}

+	if(strona == 2){

+		if(x-1 < 0) return -1;

+		if(tab[x-1][y] == 0) return -1;

+		if(tab[x-1][y] == 1) return 5*(MAXN*(x-1)+y);

+		if(tab[x-1][y] == 2) return 5*(MAXN*(x-1)+y);

+		if(tab[x-1][y] == 3) return 5*(MAXN*(x-1)+y);

+		if(tab[x-1][y] == 4) return 5*(MAXN*(x-1)+y);

+	}

+	if(strona == 3){

+		if(y-1 < 0) return -1;

+		if(tab[x][y-1] == 0) return -1;

+		if(tab[x][y-1] == 1) return 5*(MAXN*x+y-1);

+		if(tab[x][y-1] == 2) return 5*(MAXN*x+y-1)+1;

+		if(tab[x][y-1] == 3) return 5*(MAXN*x+y-1)+1;

+		if(tab[x][y-1] == 4) return 5*(MAXN*x+y-1)+1;

+	}

+}

+

+set<int> real_v;

+vector<int> edges[5*MAXN*MAXN+5];

+int match[5*MAXN*MAXN+5];

+bool mark[5*MAXN*MAXN+5];

+bool dfs(int v){

+	if(real_v.count(v) == 0) return false;

+	if(mark[v]) return false;

+	mark[v] = true;

+	for(auto &u : edges[v])

+		if(match[u] == -1 || dfs(match[u]))

+			return match[v] = u, match[u] = v, true;

+	return false;

+}

+

+int main(){

+	cin >> N >> M;

+	for(int i = 0; i < N; i++){

+		for(int j = 0; j < M; j++){

+			cin >> tab[i][j];

+		}

+	}

+

+	for(int i = 0; i < N; i++){

+		for(int j = 0; j < M; j++){

+			if(tab[i][j] == 1){

+				for(int k = 0; k < 4; k++){

+					if(id(i, j, k) != -1) edges[5*(MAXN*i+j)].push_back(id(i, j, k));

+				}

+				real_v.insert(5*(MAXN*i+j));

+			}

+			if(tab[i][j] == 2){

+				for(int k = 0; k < 4; k++){

+					if(id(i, j, k) != -1) edges[5*(MAXN*i+j)+(k%2)].push_back(id(i, j, k));

+				}

+				real_v.insert(5*(MAXN*i+j)), real_v.insert(5*(MAXN*i+j)+1);

+			}

+			if(tab[i][j] == 3){

+				for(int k = 0; k < 4; k++){

+					if(id(i, j, k) != -1) edges[5*(MAXN*i+j)+k].push_back(id(i, j, k));

+					edges[5*(MAXN*i+j)+k].push_back(5*(MAXN*i+j)+4);

+					edges[5*(MAXN*i+j)+4].push_back(5*(MAXN*i+j)+k);

+				}

+				real_v.insert(5*(MAXN*i+j)), real_v.insert(5*(MAXN*i+j)+1), real_v.insert(5*(MAXN*i+j)+2), real_v.insert(5*(MAXN*i+j)+3), real_v.insert(5*(MAXN*i+j)+4);

+			}

+			if(tab[i][j] == 4){

+				for(int k = 0; k < 4; k++){

+					if(id(i, j, k) != -1) edges[5*(MAXN*i+j)+k].push_back(id(i, j, k));

+				}

+				real_v.insert(5*(MAXN*i+j)), real_v.insert(5*(MAXN*i+j)+1), real_v.insert(5*(MAXN*i+j)+2), real_v.insert(5*(MAXN*i+j)+3);

+			}

+		}

+	}

+

+	/*for(int i = 0; i < 5*MAXN*MAXN+5; i++){

+		if(!edges[i].empty()){

+			cerr << "Edges of " << i << ": ";

+			for(int v : edges[i]) cerr << v << " ";

+			cerr << "\n";

+		}

+	}*/

+

+	for(int i = 0; i < 5*MAXN*MAXN+5; i++) match[i] = -1;

+	for(int i = 0; i < 5*MAXN*MAXN+5; i++)

+		if(match[i] == -1){

+			memset(mark, false, sizeof mark);

+			dfs(i);

+		}

+

+	for(int i : real_v) if(match[i] == -1){

+		cout << "NIE";

+		return 0;

+	}

+

+	for(int i = 0; i < N; i++){

+		for(int j = 0; j < M; j++){

+			if(tab[i][j] == 1){

+				int str;

+				for(int k = 0; k < 4; k++) if(match[5*(MAXN*i+j)] == id(i, j, k)){

+					str = k;

+				}

+				out[3*i+1][3*j+1] = 'O';

+				if(str == 0) out[3*i+2][3*j+1] = 'X';

+				if(str == 1) out[3*i+1][3*j+2] = 'X';

+				if(str == 2) out[3*i][3*j+1] = 'X';

+				if(str == 3) out[3*i+1][3*j] = 'X';

+			}

+			if(tab[i][j] == 2){

+				int strh, strv;

+				for(int k = 0; k < 4; k++) if(match[5*(MAXN*i+j)] == id(i, j, k)){

+					strh = k;

+				}

+				for(int k = 0; k < 4; k++) if(match[5*(MAXN*i+j)+1] == id(i, j, k)){

+					strv = k;

+				}

+				out[3*i+1][3*j+1] = 'O';

+				if(strh == 0) out[3*i+2][3*j+1] = 'X';

+				if(strv == 1) out[3*i+1][3*j+2] = 'X';

+				if(strh == 2) out[3*i][3*j+1] = 'X';

+				if(strv == 3) out[3*i+1][3*j] = 'X';

+			}

+			if(tab[i][j] == 3){

+				int str;

+				for(int k = 0; k < 4; k++) if(match[5*(MAXN*i+j)+4] == 5*(MAXN*i+j)+k){

+					str = k;

+				}

+				out[3*i+1][3*j+1] = 'O';

+				out[3*i+2][3*j+1] = 'X';

+				out[3*i+1][3*j+2] = 'X';

+				out[3*i][3*j+1] = 'X';

+				out[3*i+1][3*j] = 'X';

+				if(str == 0) out[3*i+2][3*j+1] = '.';

+				if(str == 1) out[3*i+1][3*j+2] = '.';

+				if(str == 2) out[3*i][3*j+1] = '.';

+				if(str == 3) out[3*i+1][3*j] = '.';

+			}

+			if(tab[i][j] == 4){

+				out[3*i+1][3*j+1] = 'O';

+				out[3*i+2][3*j+1] = 'X';

+				out[3*i+1][3*j+2] = 'X';

+				out[3*i][3*j+1] = 'X';

+				out[3*i+1][3*j] = 'X';

+			}

+		}

+	}

+

+	for(int i = 0; i < 3*N; i++){

+		for(int j = 0; j < 3*M; j++){

+			if(!out[i][j]) cout << ".";

+			else cout << out[i][j];

+		}

+		cout << "\n";

+	}

+}

diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/prz9.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/prz9.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..952daac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/prz9.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,97 @@
+// solution written by Michal 'misof' Forisek

+#include <vector>

+#include <set>

+#include <queue>

+#include <iostream>

+using namespace std;

+

+#define FOREACH(it,c) for(__typeof((c).begin()) it=(c).begin();it!=(c).end();++it)

+

+class MaximumMatching {

+        int left_size, right_size;

+        vector< vector<int> > right_to_left;

+

+        public:

+        MaximumMatching() { left_size=right_size=0; right_to_left.clear(); }

+        void add_edge(int left, int right);

+        vector< pair<int,int> > maximum_matching();

+};

+

+void MaximumMatching::add_edge(int left, int right) {

+        if (left==-1 || right==-1) return;

+        if (left_size <= left) left_size = left+1;

+        if (right_size <= right) { right_size = right+1; right_to_left.resize(right_size); }

+        right_to_left[right].push_back(left);

+}

+

+vector< pair<int,int> >

+MaximumMatching::maximum_matching() {

+        int L = left_size, R = right_size;

+        vector<int> match(L,-1);

+        for (int r=0; r<R; r++) {

+                bool found = false;

+                vector<int> from(L,-1);

+                queue<int> Q;

+                FOREACH(it,right_to_left[r]) { Q.push(*it); from[*it]=*it; }

+                while (!Q.empty() && !found) {

+                        int l = Q.front(); Q.pop();

+                        if (match[l]==-1) {

+                                found = true;

+                                while (from[l]!=l) { match[l] = match[from[l]]; l = from[l]; }

+                                match[l]=r;

+                        } else {

+                                FOREACH(it,right_to_left[ match[l] ]) if (from[*it]==-1) { Q.push(*it); from[*it]=l; }

+                        }

+                }

+        }

+        vector< pair<int,int> > result;

+        for (int i=0; i<L; i++) if (match[i] != -1) result.push_back(make_pair(i,match[i]));

+        return result;

+}

+

+int R, C; // the dimensions of the island

+vector< vector<int> > A; // the map of the island

+

+int ENCODE(int r, int c, int n) { return (C*r+c)*5+n; }

+int LEFT(int r, int c) { if (A[r][c]==0) return -1; else if (A[r][c]<=2) return ENCODE(r,c,0); else return ENCODE(r,c,1); }

+int RIGHT(int r, int c) { if (A[r][c]==0) return -1; else if (A[r][c]<=2) return ENCODE(r,c,0); else return ENCODE(r,c,3); }

+int TOP(int r, int c) { if (A[r][c]==0) return -1; else if (A[r][c]==2) return ENCODE(r,c,1); else return ENCODE(r,c,0); }

+int BOTTOM(int r, int c) { if (A[r][c]==0) return -1; else if (A[r][c]<=2) return ENCODE(r,c,A[r][c]-1); else return ENCODE(r,c,2); }

+#define VERTEX(r,c,dir) ( ((r<0) || (c<0) || (r>=R) || (c>=C)) ? -1 : dir(r,c) )

+

+int main() {

+        // read the input

+        cin >> R >> C;

+        A.resize(R, vector<int>(C) );

+        for (int r=0; r<R; ++r) for (int c=0; c<C; ++c) cin >> A[r][c];

+

+        // create the bipartite graph

+        MaximumMatching MM;

+        for (int r=0; r<R; ++r) for (int c=0; c<C; ++c) {

+               int left, right;

+               left=VERTEX(r,c,LEFT);   right=VERTEX(r,c-1,RIGHT);  if ((r+c)%2) swap(left,right); MM.add_edge(left,right);

+               left=VERTEX(r,c,TOP);    right=VERTEX(r-1,c,BOTTOM); if ((r+c)%2) swap(left,right); MM.add_edge(left,right);

+               if (A[r][c]==3) for (int d=0; d<4; ++d) {

+                      left=ENCODE(r,c,d); right=ENCODE(r,c,4); if ((r+c)%2) swap(left,right); MM.add_edge(left,right);

+               }

+        }

+

+        // find a maximum matching and check its size

+        int expected_size = 0;

+        for (int r=0; r<R; ++r) for (int c=0; c<C; ++c) expected_size += A[r][c] + (A[r][c]==3 ? 2 : 0);

+        vector< pair<int,int> > matching = MM.maximum_matching();

+        if (2*matching.size() != expected_size) { cout << "NIE" << endl; return 0; }

+

+        // from the edges of the matching, reconstruct the map

+        set< pair<int,int> > edges;

+        FOREACH(it,matching) { edges.insert(make_pair(it->first,it->second)); edges.insert(make_pair(it->second,it->first)); }

+        vector<string> output(3*R, string(3*C,'.'));

+        for (int r=0; r<R; ++r) for (int c=0; c<C; ++c) if (A[r][c]) {

+                output[3*r+1][3*c+1]='O';

+                if (edges.count(make_pair(VERTEX(r,c,LEFT),  VERTEX(r,c-1,RIGHT))))  output[3*r+1][3*c]='X';

+                if (edges.count(make_pair(VERTEX(r,c,RIGHT), VERTEX(r,c+1,LEFT))))   output[3*r+1][3*c+2]='X';

+                if (edges.count(make_pair(VERTEX(r,c,TOP),   VERTEX(r-1,c,BOTTOM)))) output[3*r][3*c+1]='X';

+                if (edges.count(make_pair(VERTEX(r,c,BOTTOM),VERTEX(r+1,c,TOP))))    output[3*r+2][3*c+1]='X';

+        }

+        for (int r=0; r<3*R; ++r) cout << output[r] << endl;

+}

diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/psp0.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/psp0.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..676bcb8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/psp0.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,44 @@
+#include <cstdio>
+#include <algorithm>
+using namespace std;
+#define rand_mod 1000000033
+int rozm, zapy, ds[200000], dl;
+typedef long long LL;
+LL sum, wcz[200000], rand_plus, ele[6];
+bool cmp(int x, int y)
+{
+	return wcz[x] < wcz[y];
+}
+int main()
+{
+	scanf("%d%Ld", &rozm, &rand_plus);
+	scanf("%d", &zapy);
+	for (int i = 0; i < zapy; ++i)
+	{
+		scanf("%Ld%Ld", wcz + 2 * i, wcz + 2 * i + 1);
+		--wcz[2 * i];
+	}
+	for (int i = 0; i < 2 * zapy; ++i)
+		ds[i] = i;
+	sort(ds, ds + 2 * zapy, cmp);
+	while (dl < 2 * zapy && !wcz[ds[dl]])
+		++dl;
+
+	for (int i = 1; i <= rozm; ++i)
+	{
+    ele[0] = (ele[1] * ele[1]) % rand_mod;
+    ele[0] += ((ele[2] + ele[3]) * (ele[2] + ele[3])) % rand_mod;
+    ele[0] += (ele[4] * ele[5]) % rand_mod;
+    ele[0] += (rand_plus * rand_plus) % rand_mod;
+    ele[0] += i % rand_mod;
+    ele[0] %= rand_mod;
+		sum += ele[0];
+		while (dl < 2 * zapy && wcz[ds[dl]] == i)
+			wcz[ds[dl++]] = sum;
+    for (int i = 4; i >= 0; i--) ele[i+1] = ele[i];
+    ele[0] = 0;
+	}
+	for (int i = 0; i < zapy; ++i)
+		printf("%Ld\n", wcz[2 * i + 1] - wcz[2 * i]);
+  return 0;
+}
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/w8.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/w8.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..91676f4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/w8.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/wie5.cpp b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/wie5.cpp
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0821777
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/wie5.cpp
@@ -0,0 +1,158 @@
+#include <bits/stdc++.h>

+

+using namespace std;

+typedef long long ll;

+

+mt19937 rng(rand());

+const int MAXDEG = 10000;

+long long poly[MAXDEG+1];

+int deg;

+

+int gcd(int a, int b){

+	return !b ? a : gcd(b, a%b);

+}

+

+struct rat{

+	int sign;

+	int num, den;

+	

+	void cancel(){

+		int d = gcd(num, den);

+		this->num /= d;

+		this->den /= d;

+	}

+	

+	rat(int a, int b){

+		this->sign = 1;

+		if(a == 0){

+			this->sign = 0;

+			this->num = 0;

+			this->den = 1;

+			return;

+		} 

+		if(b < 0){

+			this->sign = -1;

+		}

+		this->den = abs(b);

+		if(a < 0){

+			this->sign = -(this->sign);

+		}

+		this->num = abs(a);

+		cancel();

+	}

+

+	bool operator<(const rat &x) const {

+		if(this->sign != x.sign) return this->sign < x.sign;

+		

+		bool abs_less;

+		long long int left = (long long)(this->num) * (long long)(x.den);

+		long long int right = (long long)(x.num) * (long long)(this->den);

+		abs_less = left < right;

+		

+		if(left == right) return false;

+		if(this->sign == -1) return !abs_less;

+		if(this->sign == 0) return false;

+		if(this->sign == 1) return abs_less;

+	}

+	

+	bool operator==(const rat &x) const {

+		return this->sign == x.sign && this->num == x.num && this->den == x.den;

+	}

+	

+	friend ostream& operator<<(ostream &stream, const rat &x){

+		if(x.sign == -1) stream << '-';

+		stream << x.num << "/" << x.den;

+		return stream;

+	}

+};

+

+ll W(rat x, int mod){

+	ll out = 0;

+	ll den_pow = 1;

+	ll num = x.num;

+	ll den = x.den;

+	if(x.sign == -1) num = mod-num;

+	for(int i = deg; i >= 0; i--){

+		out += (poly[i]*den_pow)%mod;

+		if(i) out *= num;

+		out %= mod;

+		den_pow = (den_pow * den)%mod;

+	}

+	//cerr << x << " " << mod << " " << out << endl;

+	return out;

+}

+

+bool check(rat x){

+	for(int i = 0; i < 20; i++){

+		int p = uniform_int_distribution<int>(2, 1000000000)(rng);

+		if(W(x, p)){

+			//cerr << x << " " << p << endl;

+			return false;

+		}

+	}

+	return true;

+}

+

+vector< int > nums;

+vector< int > dens;

+vector< rat > candidates_mult;

+vector< rat > candidates;

+void cands(){

+	for(int i = 1; i*i <= abs(poly[0]); i++){

+		if(abs(poly[0]) % i) continue;

+		nums.push_back(i);

+		nums.push_back(-i);

+		nums.push_back(poly[0]/i);

+		nums.push_back(-poly[0]/i);

+	}

+	

+	for(int i = 1; i*i <= abs(poly[deg]); i++){

+		if(abs(poly[deg]) % i) continue;

+		dens.push_back(i);

+		dens.push_back(poly[deg]/i);

+	}

+	

+	//cerr << nums.size() << " * " << dens.size() << " = " << (nums.size())*(dens.size()) << endl;

+	

+	for(int p : nums){

+		for(int q : dens){

+			candidates_mult.push_back({p, q});

+		}

+	}

+	sort(candidates_mult.begin(), candidates_mult.end());

+	candidates.push_back(candidates_mult[0]);

+	for(int i = 1; i < candidates_mult.size(); i++){

+		if(!(candidates_mult[i-1] == candidates_mult[i])){

+			candidates.push_back(candidates_mult[i]);

+		}

+	}

+	

+	//for(rat r : candidates) cerr << r << endl;

+}

+

+vector< rat > s;

+void solve(){

+	if(!poly[0]){

+		s.push_back({0, 1});

+		int k = 0;

+		while(poly[k] == 0) k++;

+		for(int i = 0; i <= deg-k; i++) poly[i] = poly[i+k];

+		deg -= k;

+	}

+	

+	cands();

+	for(rat c : candidates) if(check(c)) s.push_back(c);

+	sort(s.begin(), s.end());

+	cout << s.size() << "\n";

+	for(rat i : s) cout << i << " ";  

+}

+

+int main(){	

+	ios_base::sync_with_stdio(0);

+	cin.tie(0);

+	cout.tie(0);

+	

+	cin >> deg;

+	for(int i = 0; i <= deg; i++) cin >> poly[deg-i];

+	solve();

+}

diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/wie5.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/wie5.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cd5637b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/warsztaty8/wie5.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/ASD_kol2_2021-1.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/ASD_kol2_2021-1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2fbe591
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/ASD_kol2_2021-1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec1.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec1.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5da8f03
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec1.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec13.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec13.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..245259f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec13.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec2.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec2.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..edb1398
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec2.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec3.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec3.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ae48ec2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec3.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec4.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec4.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..352b71d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec4.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec5.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec5.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3a7b39b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec5.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec6.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec6.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..04975ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec6.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec7.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec7.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b28c4d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec7.pdf
diff --git a/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec8.pdf b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec8.pdf
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a4fbb9c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/semestr-4/sieci/wyklady/lec8.pdf