First Folio

Executive Director's Notes:

In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they are presented herein:

Barnardo. Who's there? Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold your selfe

Bar. Long liue the King

* * * * *

As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u, above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . .

The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in place of some "w"'s, etc. This was a common practice of the day, as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend more on a wider selection of characters than they had to.

You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare. My father read an assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the purpose. To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available . . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes, that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous for signing his name with several different spellings.

So, please take this into account when reading the comments below made by our volunteer who prepared this file: you may see errors that are "not" errors. . . .

So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors, here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's play.

Michael S. Hart Project Gutenberg Executive Director

* * * * *

Scanner's Notes:

What this is and isn't. This was taken from a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can come in ASCII to the printed text.

The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling, punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the printed text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within brackets [] is what I have added. So if you don't like that you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a purer Shakespeare.

Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual differences between various copies of the first folio. So there may be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between this and other first folio editions. This is due to the printer's habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn't thrown away but incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the way it is. The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different First Folio editions' best pages.

David Reed

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Project Gutenberg's Etext of Shakespeare's First Folio/35 Plays

To the Reader.

This Figure, that thou here feest put, It was for gentle Shakespeare cut: Wherein the Grauer had a strife with Naure, to out-doo the life: O, could he but haue dravvne his vvit As vvell in frasse, as he hath hit Hisface; the Print vvould then surpasse All, that vvas euer in frasse. But, since he cannot, Reader, looke Not on his picture, but his Booke.

B.I.

MR. William SHAKESPEARES Comedies, Histories & Tragedies, Published according to the True Original Copies London Printed by Ifaac Iaggard, and Ed, Bount. 1623

TO THE MOST NOBLE AND INCOMPARABLE PAIRE OF BRETHREN

WILLIAM Earle of Pembroke,&c;. Lord Chamberlaine to the Kings most Excellent Majesty.

A N D

PHILIP Earle of Montgomery,&c;. Gentleman of his Majesties Bed-Chamber. Both Knights of the most Noble Order of the Garter, and our singular good L O R D S

Right Honourable,

Whilst we studie to be thankful in our particular, for the many favors we have received from your L.L. we are falne upon the ill fortune, to mingle two the most diverse things that can bee, feare, and rashnesse; rashnesse in the enterprize, and feare of the successe. For, when we valew the places your H.H. sustaine, we cannot but know their dignity greater, then to descend to the reading of these trifles: and, while we name them trifles, we have depriv'd our selves of the defence of our Dedication. But since your L.L. have beene pleas'd to thinke these trifles some-thing, heeretofore; and have prosequuted both them, and their Authour living, with so much favour: we hope, that (they out-living him, and he not having the fate, common with some, to be exequutor to his owne writings) you will use the like indulgence toward them, you have done unto their parent. There is a great difference, whether any Booke choose his Patrones, or finde them: This hath done both. For, so much were your L.L. likings of the severall parts, when they were acted, as before they were published, the Volume ask'd to be yours. We have but collected them, and done an office to the dead, to procure his Orphanes, Guardians; without ambition either of selfe-profit, or fame: onely to keepe the memory of so worthy a Friend, & Fellow alive, as was our S H A K E S P E A R E , by humble offer of his playes, to your most noble patronage. Wherein, as we have justly observed, no man to come neere your L.L. but with a kind of religious addresse; it hath bin the height of our care, who are the Presenters, to make the present worthy of your H.H. by the perfection. But, there we must also crave our abilities to be considerd, my Lords. We cannot go beyond our owne powers. Country hands reach foorth milke, creame, fruites, or what they have : and many Nations (we have heard) that had not gummes & incense, obtained their requests with a leavened Cake. It was no fault to approach their Gods, by what meanes they could: And the most, though meanest, of thins are made more precious, when they are dedicated to Temples. In that name therefore, we most humbly consecrate to your H.H. these remaines of your servant Shakespeare; that what delight is in them, may be ever your L.L. the reputation his, & the faults ours, if any be committed, by a payre so carefull to shew their gratitude both to the living, and the dead, as is.

Your Lordshippes most bounden,

JOHN HEMINGE. HENRY CONDELL.

To the great Variety of Readers.

From the most able, to him that can but spell : There you are number'd. We had rather you were weighd. Especially, when the fate of all Bookes depends upon your capacities : and not of your heads alone, but of your purses. Well ! It is now publique, & you wil stand for your priviledges wee know : to read, and censure. Do so, but buy it first. That doth best commend a Booke, the Stationer saies. Then, how odde soever your braines be, or your wisedomes, make your licence the same, and spare not. Judge your six-pen'orth, your shillings worth, your five shillings worth at a time, or higher, so you rise to the just rates, and welcome. But, whatever you do, Buy. Censure will not drive a Trade, or make the Jacke go. And though you be a Magistrate of wit, and sit on the Stage at Black-Friers, or the Cock-pit, to arraigne Playes dailie, know, these Playes have had their triall alreadie, and stood out all Appeales ; and do now come forth quitted rather by a Decree of Court, then any purchas'd Letters of commendation.

It had bene a thing, we confesse, worthie to have bene wished, that the Author himselfe had liv'd to have set forth, and overseen his owne writings ; But since it hath bin ordain'd otherwise, and he by death departed from that right, we pray you do not envie his Friends, the office of their care, and paine, to have collected & publish'd them; and so to have publish'd them, as where (before) you were abus'd with diverse stolne, and surreptitious copies, maimed, and deformed by the frauds and stealthes of injurious impostors, that expos'd them : even those, are now offer'd to your view cur'd, and perfect of their limbes; and all the rest, absolute in their numbers, as he conceived the'. Who, as he was a happie imitator of Nature, was a most gentle expresser of it. His mind and hand went together: And what he thought, he uttered with that easinesse, that wee have scarse received from him a blot in his papers. But it is not our province, who onely gather his works, and give them you, to praise him. It is yours that reade him. And there we hope, to your divers capacities, you will finde enough, both to draw, and hold you : for his wit can no more lie hid, then it could be lost. Reade him, therefore; and againe, and againe : And if then you doe not like him, surely you are in some manifest danger, not to understand him. And so we leave you to other of his Friends, whom if you need, can bee your guides : if you neede them not, you can leade your selves, and others. And such Readers we wish him.

John Heminge. Henrie Condell.

A CATALOGVE of the Seuerall Comedies, Historie, and Tragedies contained in this Volume

COMEDIES.

The Tempest. The Two Gentlemen of Verona. The Merry Wives of Windsor. Measure for Measure. The Comedy of Errours. Much adoo about Nothing Loves Labour lost. Midsommer Nights Dreame. The Merchant of Venice. As you Like it. The Taming of the Shrew. All is well, that Ends well. Twelfe-Night, or what you will. The Winters Tale.

HISTORIES.

The Life and Death of King John. The Life & death of Richard the second. The First part of King Henry the fourth. The Second part of K. Henry the fourth. The Life of King Henry the Fift. The First part of King Henry the Sixt. The Second part of King Hen. the Sixt. The Third part of King Henry the Sixt. The Life and Death of Richard the Third The Life of King Henry the Eight.

TRAGEDIES.

The Tragedy of Coriolanus. Titus Andronicus. Romeo and Juliet. Timon of Athens. The Life and death of Julius Caesar. The Tragedy of Macbeth. The Tragedy of Hamlet. King Lear. Othello, the Moore of Venice. Anthony and Cleopater. Cymbeline King of Britaine.

To the memory of my beloved, The Author MR. W I L L I A M S H A K E S P E A R E : A N D what he hath left us.

To draw no envy (Shakespeare) on thy name, Am I thus ample to thy Booke, and Fame; While I confesse thy writings to be such, As neither Man, nor Muse, can praise too much. 'Tis true, and all men's suffrage. But these wayes Were not the paths I meant unto thy praise; For seeliest Ignorance on these may light, Which, when it sounds at best, but eccho's right; Or blinde Affection, which doth ne're advance The truth, but gropes, and urgeth all by chance; Or crafty Malice, might pretend this praise, And thine to ruine, where it seem'd to raise. These are, as some infamous Baud, or Whore, Should praise a Matron. What could hurt her more? But thou art proofe against them, and indeed Above th' ill fortune of them, or the need. I, therefore will begin. Soule of the Age ! The applause ! delight ! the wonder of our Stage ! My Shakespeare, rise; I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lye A little further, to make thee a roome : Thou art a Moniment, without a tombe, And art alive still, while thy Booke doth live, And we have wits to read, and praise to give. That I not mixe thee so, my braine excuses ; I meane with great, but disproportion'd Muses : For, if I thought my judgement were of yeeres, I should commit thee surely with thy peeres, And tell, how farre thou dist our Lily out-shine, Or sporting Kid or Marlowes mighty line. And though thou hadst small Latine, and lesse Greeke, From thence to honour thee, I would not seeke For names; but call forth thund'ring ’schilus, Euripides, and Sophocles to vs, Paccuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead, To life againe, to heare thy Buskin tread, And shake a stage : Or, when thy sockes were on, Leave thee alone, for the comparison Of all, that insolent Greece, or haughtie Rome Sent forth, or since did from their ashes come. Triumph, my Britaine, thou hast one to showe, To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe. He was not of an age, but for all time ! And all the Muses still were in their prime, When like Apollo he came forth to warme Our eares, or like a Mercury to charme ! Nature her selfe was proud of his designes, And joy'd to weare the dressing of his lines ! Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit, As, since, she will vouchsafe no other Wit. The merry Greeke, tart Aristophanes, Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not please;But antiquated, and deserted lye As they were not of Natures family. Yet must I not give Nature all: Thy Art, My gentle Shakespeare, must enjoy a part; For though the Poets matter, Nature be, His Art doth give the fashion. And, that he, Who casts to write a living line, must sweat, (Such as thine are) and strike the second heat Upon the Muses anvile : turne the same, (And himselfe with it) that he thinkes to frame; Or for the lawrell, he may gaine a scorne, For a good Poet's made, as well as borne. And such wert thou. Looke how the fathers face Lives in his issue, even so, the race Of Shakespeares minde, and manners brightly shines In his well toned, and true-filed lines : In each of which, he seemes to shake a Lance, As brandish't at the eyes of Ignorance. Sweet swan of Avon! what a fight it were To see thee in our waters yet appeare, And make those flights upon the bankes of Thames, That so did take Eliza, and our James ! But stay, I see thee in the Hemisphere Advanc'd, and made a Constellation there ! Shine forth, thou Starre of Poets, and with rage, Or influence, chide, or cheere the drooping Stage; Which, since thy flight fro' hence, hath mourn'd like night, And despaires day, but for thy Volumes light.

B E N: J O N S O N.

Upon the Lines and Life of the Famous Scenicke Poet, Master W I L L I A M S H A K E S P E A R E

Those hands, which you so clapt, go now, and wring You Britaines brave; for done are Shakespeares dayes : His dayes are done, that made the dainty Playes, Which made the Globe of heav'n and earth to ring. Dry'de is that veine, dry'd is the Thespian Spring, Turn'd all to teares, and Phoebus clouds his rayes : That corp's, that coffin now besticke those bayes, Which crown'd him Poet first, then Poets King. If Tragedies might any Prologue have, All those he made, would scarse make a one to this : Where Fame, now that he gone is to the grave (Deaths publique tyring-house) the Nuncius is, For though his line of life went soone about, The life yet of his lines shall never out.

H U G H H O L L A N D.

TO THE MEMORIE of the deceased Authour Maister W. S H A K E S P E A R E.

Shake-speare, at length thy pious fellowes give The world thy Workes : thy Workes, by which, out-live Thy Tombe, thy name must when that stone is rent, And Time dissolves thy Stratford Moniment, Here we alive shall view thee still. This Booke, When Brasse and Marble fade, shall make thee looke Fresh to all Ages: when Posteritie Shall loath what's new, thinke all is prodegie That is not Shake-speares; ev'ry Line, each Verse Here shall revive, redeeme thee from thy Herse. Nor Fire, nor cankring Age, as Naso said, Of his, thy wit-fraught Booke shall once invade. Nor shall I e're beleeve, or thinke thee dead. (Though mist) untill our bankrout Stage be sped (Imposible) with some new straine t'out-do Passions of Juliet, and her Romeo ; Or till I heare a Scene more nobly take, Then when thy half-Sword parlying Romans spake. Till these, till any of thy Volumes rest Shall with more fire, more feeling be exprest, Be sure, our Shake-speare, thou canst never dye, But crown'd with Lawrell, live eternally.

L. Digges.

To the memorie of M.W.Shakes-speare.

WEE wondred (Shake-speare) that thou went'st so soone From the Worlds-Stage, to the Graves-Tyring-roome. Wee thought thee dead, but this thy printed worth, Tels thy Spectators, that thou went'st but forth To enter with applause. An Actors Art, Can dye, and live, to acte a second part. That's but an Exit of Mortalitie; This, a Re-entrance to a Plaudite.

J. M.

The Workes of William Shakespeare, containing all his Comedies, Histories, and Tragedies: Truely set forth, according to their first O R I G I N A L L

The Names of the Principall Actorsin all these Playes.

William Shakespeare. Richard Burbadge. John Hemmings. Augustine Phillips. William Kempt. Thomas Poope. George Bryan. Henry Condell. William Slye. Richard Cowly. John Lowine. Samuell Crosse. Alexander Cooke. Samuel Gilburne. Robert Armin. William Ostler. Nathan Field. John Underwood. Nicholas Tooley. William Ecclestone. Joseph Taylor. Robert Benfield. Robert Goughe. Richard Robinson. John Shancke. John Rice.

The Tempest

Actus primus, Scena prima.

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

Master. Bote-swaine.

Botes. Heere Master: What cheere?

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

Enter.

Enter Mariners.

Botes. Heigh my hearts, cheerely, cheerely my harts: yare, yare: Take in the toppe-sale: Tend to th' Masters whistle: Blow till thou burst thy winde, if roome enough.

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

Alon. Good Boteswaine haue care: where's the Master? Play the men.

Botes. I pray now keepe below.

Anth. Where is the Master, Boson?

Botes. Do you not heare him? you marre our labour, Keepe your Cabines: you do assist the storme.

Gonz. Nay, good be patient.

Botes. When the Sea is: hence, what cares these roarers for the name of King? to Cabine; silence: trouble vs not.

Gon. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboord.

Botes. None that I more loue then my selfe. You are a Counsellor, if you can command these Elements to silence, and worke the peace of the present, wee will not hand a rope more, vse your authoritie: If you cannot, giue thankes you haue liu'd so long, and make your selfe readie in your Cabine for the mischance of the houre, if it so hap. Cheerely good hearts: out of our way I say.

Enter.

Gon. I haue great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning marke vpon him, his complexion is perfect Gallowes: stand fast good Fate to his hanging, make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our owne doth little aduantage: If he be not borne to bee hang'd, our case is miserable.

Enter.

Enter Boteswaine

Botes. Downe with the top-Mast: yare, lower, lower, bring her to Try with Maine-course. A plague -

A cry within. Enter Sebastian, Anthonio & Gonzalo.

vpon this howling: they are lowder then the weather, or our office: yet againe? What do you heere? Shal we giue ore and drowne, haue you a minde to sinke?

Sebas. A poxe o'your throat, you bawling, blasphemous incharitable Dog.

Botes. Worke you then. Anth. Hang cur, hang, you whoreson insolent Noyse-maker, we are lesse afraid to be drownde, then thou art.

Gonz. I'le warrant him for drowning, though the Ship were no stronger then a Nutt-shell, and as leaky as an vnstanched wench.

Botes. Lay her a hold, a hold, set her two courses off to Sea againe, lay her off.

Enter Mariners wet.

Mari. All lost, to prayers, to prayers, all lost.

Botes. What must our mouths be cold?

Gonz. The King, and Prince, at prayers, let's assist them, for our case is as theirs

Sebas. I'am out of patience

An. We are meerly cheated of our liues by drunkards, This wide-chopt-rascall, would thou mightst lye drowning the washing of ten Tides

Gonz. Hee'l be hang'd yet, Though euery drop of water sweare against it, And gape at widst to glut him.

A confused noyse within.

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

Anth. Let's all sinke with' King

Seb. Let's take leaue of him.

Enter.

Gonz. Now would I giue a thousand furlongs of Sea, for an Acre of barren ground: Long heath, Browne firrs, any thing; the wills aboue be done, but I would faine dye a dry death.

Enter.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Prospero and Miranda.

Mira. If by your Art (my deerest father) you haue Put the wild waters in this Rore; alay them: The skye it seemes would powre down stinking pitch, But that the Sea, mounting to th' welkins cheeke, Dashes the fire out. Oh! I haue suffered With those that I saw suffer: A braue vessell (Who had no doubt some noble creature in her) Dash'd all to peeces: O the cry did knocke Against my very heart: poore soules, they perish'd. Had I byn any God of power, I would Haue suncke the Sea within the Earth, or ere It should the good Ship so haue swallow'd, and The fraughting Soules within her

Pros. Be collected, No more amazement: Tell your pitteous heart there's no harme done

Mira. O woe, the day

Pros. No harme: I haue done nothing, but in care of thee (Of thee my deere one; thee my daughter) who Art ignorant of what thou art. naught knowing Of whence I am: nor that I am more better Then Prospero, Master of a full poore cell, And thy no greater Father

Mira. More to know Did neuer medle with my thoughts

Pros. 'Tis time I should informe thee farther: Lend thy hand And plucke my Magick garment from me: So, Lye there my Art: wipe thou thine eyes, haue comfort, The direfull spectacle of the wracke which touch'd The very vertue of compassion in thee: I haue with such prouision in mine Art So safely ordered, that there is no soule No not so much perdition as an hayre Betid to any creature in the vessell Which thou heardst cry, which thou saw'st sinke: Sit downe, For thou must now know farther

Mira. You haue often Begun to tell me what I am, but stopt And left me to a bootelesse Inquisition, Concluding, stay: not yet

Pros. The howr's now come The very minute byds thee ope thine eare, Obey, and be attentiue. Canst thou remember A time before we came vnto this Cell? I doe not thinke thou canst, for then thou was't not Out three yeeres old

Mira. Certainely Sir, I can

Pros. By what? by any other house, or person? Of any thing the Image, tell me, that Hath kept with thy remembrance

Mira. 'Tis farre off: And rather like a dreame, then an assurance That my remembrance warrants: Had I not Fowre, or fiue women once, that tended me?

Pros. Thou hadst; and more Miranda: But how is it That this liues in thy minde? What seest thou els In the dark-backward and Abisme of Time? Yf thou remembrest ought ere thou cam'st here, How thou cam'st here thou maist

Mira. But that I doe not

Pros. Twelue yere since (Miranda) twelue yere since, Thy father was the Duke of Millaine and A Prince of power:

Mira. Sir, are not you my Father?

Pros. Thy Mother was a peece of vertue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father Was Duke of Millaine, and his onely heire, And Princesse; no worse Issued

Mira. O the heauens, What fowle play had we, that we came from thence? Or blessed was't we did?

Pros. Both, both my Girle. By fowle-play (as thou saist) were we heau'd thence, But blessedly holpe hither

Mira. O my heart bleedes To thinke oth' teene that I haue turn'd you to, Which is from my remembrance, please you, farther;

Pros. My brother and thy vncle, call'd Anthonio: I pray thee marke me, that a brother should Be so perfidious: he, whom next thy selfe Of all the world I lou'd, and to him put The mannage of my state, as at that time Through all the signories it was the first, And Prospero, the prime Duke, being so reputed In dignity; and for the liberall Artes, Without a paralell; those being all my studie, The Gouernment I cast vpon my brother, And to my State grew stranger, being transported And rapt in secret studies, thy false vncle (Do'st thou attend me?)

Mira. Sir, most heedefully

Pros. Being once perfected how to graunt suites, how to deny them: who t' aduance, and who To trash for ouer-topping; new created The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd 'em, Or els new form'd 'em; hauing both the key, Of Officer, and office, set all hearts i'th state To what tune pleas'd his eare, that now he was The Iuy which had hid my princely Trunck, And suckt my verdure out on't: Thou attend'st not?

Mira. O good Sir, I doe

Pros. I pray thee marke me: I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closenes, and the bettering of my mind with that, which but by being so retir'd Ore-priz'd all popular rate: in my false brother Awak'd an euill nature, and my trust Like a good parent, did beget of him A falsehood in it's contrarie, as great As my trust was, which had indeede no limit, A confidence sans bound. He being thus Lorded, Not onely with what my reuenew yeelded, But what my power might els exact. Like one Who hauing into truth, by telling of it, Made such a synner of his memorie To credite his owne lie, he did beleeue He was indeed the Duke, out o'th' Substitution And executing th' outward face of Roialtie With all prerogatiue: hence his Ambition growing: Do'st thou heare ?

Mira. Your tale, Sir, would cure deafenesse

Pros. To haue no Schreene between this part he plaid, And him he plaid it for, he needes will be Absolute Millaine, Me (poore man) my Librarie Was Dukedome large enough: of temporall roalties He thinks me now incapable. Confederates (so drie he was for Sway) with King of Naples To giue him Annuall tribute, doe him homage Subiect his Coronet, to his Crowne and bend The Dukedom yet vnbow'd (alas poore Millaine) To most ignoble stooping

Mira. Oh the heauens:

Pros. Marke his condition, and th' euent, then tell me If this might be a brother

Mira. I should sinne To thinke but Noblie of my Grand-mother, Good wombes haue borne bad sonnes

Pro. Now the Condition. This King of Naples being an Enemy To me inueterate, hearkens my Brothers suit, Which was, That he in lieu o'th' premises, Of homage, and I know not how much Tribute, Should presently extirpate me and mine Out of the Dukedome, and confer faire Millaine With all the Honors, on my brother: Whereon A treacherous Armie leuied, one mid-night Fated to th' purpose, did Anthonio open The gates of Millaine, and ith' dead of darkenesse The ministers for th' purpose hurried thence Me, and thy crying selfe

Mir. Alack, for pitty: I not remembring how I cride out then Will cry it ore againe: it is a hint That wrings mine eyes too't

Pro. Heare a little further, And then I'le bring thee to the present businesse Which now's vpon's: without the which, this Story Were most impertinent

Mir. Wherefore did they not That howre destroy vs?

Pro. Well demanded, wench: My Tale prouokes that question: Deare, they durst not, So deare the loue my people bore me: nor set A marke so bloudy on the businesse; but With colours fairer, painted their foule ends. In few, they hurried vs aboord a Barke, Bore vs some Leagues to Sea, where they prepared A rotten carkasse of a Butt, not rigg'd, Nor tackle, sayle, nor mast, the very rats Instinctiuely haue quit it: There they hoyst vs To cry to th' Sea, that roard to vs; to sigh To th' windes, whose pitty sighing backe againe Did vs but louing wrong

Mir. Alack, what trouble Was I then to you?

Pro. O, a Cherubin Thou was't that did preserue me; Thou didst smile, Infused with a fortitude from heauen, When I haue deck'd the sea with drops full salt, Vnder my burthen groan'd, which rais'd in me An vndergoing stomacke, to beare vp Against what should ensue

Mir. How came we a shore?

Pro. By prouidence diuine, Some food, we had, and some fresh water, that A noble Neopolitan Gonzalo Out of his Charity, (who being then appointed Master of this designe) did giue vs, with Rich garments, linnens, stuffs, and necessaries Which since haue steeded much, so of his gentlenesse Knowing I lou'd my bookes, he furnishd me From mine owne Library, with volumes, that I prize aboue my Dukedome

Mir. Would I might But euer see that man

Pro. Now I arise, Sit still, and heare the last of our sea-sorrow: Heere in this Iland we arriu'd, and heere Haue I, thy Schoolemaster, made thee more profit Then other Princesse can, that haue more time For vainer howres; and Tutors, not so carefull

Mir. Heuens thank you for't. And now I pray you Sir, For still 'tis beating in my minde; your reason For raysing this Sea-storme?

Pro. Know thus far forth, By accident most strange, bountifull Fortune (Now my deere Lady) hath mine enemies Brought to this shore: And by my prescience I finde my Zenith doth depend vpon A most auspitious starre, whose influence If now I court not, but omit; my fortunes Will euer after droope: Heare cease more questions, Thou art inclinde to sleepe: 'tis a good dulnesse, And giue it way: I know thou canst not chuse: Come away, Seruant, come; I am ready now, Approach my Ariel. Come.

Enter Ariel.

Ari. All haile, great Master, graue Sir, haile: I come To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly, To swim, to diue into the fire: to ride On the curld clowds: to thy strong bidding, taske Ariel, and all his Qualitie

Pro. Hast thou, Spirit, Performd to point, the Tempest that I bad thee

Ar. To euery Article. I boorded the Kings ship: now on the Beake, Now in the Waste, the Decke, in euery Cabyn, I flam'd amazement, sometime I'ld diuide And burne in many places; on the Top-mast, The Yards and Bore-spritt, would I flame distinctly, Then meete, and ioyne. Ioues Lightning, the precursers O'th dreadfull Thunder-claps more momentarie And sight out-running were not; the fire, and cracks Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune Seeme to besiege, and make his bold waues tremble, Yea, his dread Trident shake

Pro. My braue Spirit, Who was so firme, so constant, that this coyle Would not infect his reason?

Ar. Not a soule But felt a Feauer of the madde, and plaid Some tricks of desperation; all but Mariners Plung'd in the foaming bryne, and quit the vessell; Then all a fire with me the Kings sonne Ferdinand With haire vp-staring (then like reeds, not haire) Was the first man that leapt; cride hell is empty, And all the Diuels are heere

Pro. Why that's my spirit: But was not this nye shore?

Ar. Close by, my Master

Pro. But are they (Ariell) safe?

Ar. Not a haire perishd: On their sustaining garments not a blemish, But fresher then before: and as thou badst me, In troops I haue dispersd them 'bout the Isle: The Kings sonne haue I landed by himselfe, Whom I left cooling of the Ayre with sighes, In an odde Angle of the Isle, and sitting His armes in this sad knot

Pro. Of the Kings ship, The Marriners, say how thou hast disposd, And all the rest o'th' Fleete?

Ar. Safely in harbour Is the Kings shippe, in the deepe Nooke, where once Thou calldst me vp at midnight to fetch dewe From the still-vext Bermoothes, there she's hid; The Marriners all vnder hatches stowed, Who, with a Charme ioynd to their suffred labour I haue left asleep: and for the rest o'th' Fleet (Which I dispers'd) they all haue met againe, And are vpon the Mediterranian Flote Bound sadly home for Naples, Supposing that they saw the Kings ship wrackt, And his great person perish

Pro. Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd; but there's more worke: What is the time o'th' day?

Ar. Past the mid season

Pro. At least two Glasses: the time 'twixt six & now Must by vs both be spent most preciously

Ar. Is there more toyle? Since y dost giue me pains, Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd, Which is not yet perform'd me

Pro. How now? moodie? What is't thou canst demand?

Ar. My Libertie

Pro. Before the time be out? no more:

Ar. I prethee, Remember I haue done thee worthy seruice, Told thee no lyes, made thee no mistakings, serv'd Without or grudge, or grumblings; thou did promise To bate me a full yeere

Pro. Do'st thou forget From what a torment I did free thee?

Ar. No

Pro. Thou do'st: & thinkst it much to tread y Ooze Of the salt deepe; To run vpon the sharpe winde of the North, To doe me businesse in the veines o'th' earth When it is bak'd with frost

Ar. I doe not Sir

Pro. Thou liest, malignant Thing: hast thou forgot The fowle Witch Sycorax, who with Age and Enuy Was growne into a hoope? hast thou forgot her?

Ar. No Sir

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

Ar. Sir, in Argier

Pro. Oh, was she so: I must Once in a moneth recount what thou hast bin, Which thou forgetst. This damn'd Witch Sycorax For mischiefes manifold, and sorceries terrible To enter humane hearing, from Argier Thou know'st was banish'd: for one thing she did They wold not take her life: Is not this true?

Ar. I, Sir

Pro. This blew ey'd hag, was hither brought with child, And here was left by th' Saylors; thou my slaue, As thou reportst thy selfe, was then her seruant, And for thou wast a Spirit too delicate To act her earthy, and abhord commands, Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee By helpe of her more potent Ministers, And in her most vnmittigable rage, Into a clouen Pyne, within which rift Imprison'd, thou didst painefully remaine A dozen yeeres: within which space she di'd, And left thee there: where thou didst vent thy groanes As fast as Mill-wheeles strike: Then was this Island (Saue for the Son, that he did littour heere, A frekelld whelpe, hag-borne) not honour'd with A humane shape

Ar. Yes: Caliban her sonne

Pro. Dull thing, I say so: he, that Caliban Whom now I keepe in seruice, thou best know'st What torment I did finde thee in; thy grones Did make wolues howle, and penetrate the breasts Of euer-angry Beares; it was a torment To lay vpon the damn'd, which Sycorax Could not againe vndoe: it was mine Art, When I arriu'd, and heard thee, that made gape The Pyne, and let thee out

Ar. I thanke thee Master

Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an Oake And peg-thee in his knotty entrailes, till Thou hast howl'd away twelue winters

Ar. Pardon, Master, I will be correspondent to command And doe my spryting, gently

Pro. Doe so: and after two daies I will discharge thee

Ar. That's my noble Master: What shall I doe? say what? what shall I doe?

Pro. Goe make thy selfe like a Nymph o'th' Sea, Be subiect to no sight but thine, and mine: inuisible To euery eye-ball else: goe take this shape And hither come in't: goe: hence With diligence.

Enter.

Pro. Awake, deere hart awake, thou hast slept well, Awake

Mir. The strangenes of your story, put Heauinesse in me

Pro. Shake it off: Come on, Wee'll visit Caliban, my slaue, who neuer Yeelds vs kinde answere

Mir. 'Tis a villaine Sir, I doe not loue to looke on

Pro. But as 'tis We cannot misse him: he do's make our fire, Fetch in our wood, and serues in Offices That profit vs: What hoa: slaue: Caliban: Thou Earth, thou: speake

Cal. within. There's wood enough within

Pro. Come forth I say, there's other busines for thee: Come thou Tortoys, when?

Enter Ariel like a water Nymph.

Fine apparision: my queint Ariel, Hearke in thine eare

Ar. My Lord, it shall be done.

Enter.

Pro. Thou poysonous slaue, got by y diuell himselfe Vpon thy wicked Dam; come forth.

Enter Caliban.

Cal. As wicked dewe, as ere my mother brush'd With Rauens feather from vnwholesome Fen Drop on you both: A Southwest blow on yee, And blister you all ore

Pro. For this be sure, to night thou shalt haue cramps, Side-stitches, that shall pen thy breath vp, Vrchins Shall for that vast of night, that they may worke All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd As thicke as hony-combe, each pinch more stinging Then Bees that made 'em

Cal. I must eat my dinner: This Island's mine by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me: when thou cam'st first Thou stroakst me, & made much of me: wouldst giue me Water with berries in't: and teach me how To name the bigger Light, and how the lesse That burne by day, and night: and then I lou'd thee And shew'd thee all the qualities o'th' Isle, The fresh Springs, Brine-pits; barren place and fertill, Curs'd be I that did so: All the Charmes Of Sycorax: Toades, Beetles, Batts light on you: For I am all the Subiects that you haue, Which first was min owne King: and here you sty-me In this hard Rocke, whiles you doe keepe from me The rest o'th' Island

Pro. Thou most lying slaue, Whom stripes may moue, not kindnes: I haue vs'd thee (Filth as thou art) with humane care, and lodg'd thee In mine owne Cell, till thou didst seeke to violate The honor of my childe

Cal. Oh ho, oh ho, would't had bene done: Thou didst preuent me, I had peopel'd else This Isle with Calibans

Mira. Abhorred Slaue, Which any print of goodnesse wilt not take, Being capable of all ill: I pittied thee, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each houre One thing or other: when thou didst not (Sauage) Know thine owne meaning; but wouldst gabble, like A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them knowne: But thy vild race (Tho thou didst learn) had that in't, which good natures Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deseruedly confin'd into this Rocke, who hadst Deseru'd more then a prison

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

Pros. Hag-seed, hence: Fetch vs in Fewell, and be quicke thou'rt best To answer other businesse: shrug'st thou (Malice) If thou neglectst, or dost vnwillingly What I command, Ile racke thee with old Crampes, Fill all thy bones with Aches, make thee rore, That beasts shall tremble at thy dyn

Cal. No, 'pray thee. I must obey, his Art is of such pow'r, It would controll my Dams god Setebos, And make a vassaile of him

Pro. So slaue, hence.

Exit Cal.

Enter Ferdinand & Ariel, inuisible playing & singing.

Ariel Song. Come vnto these yellow sands, and then take hands: Curtsied when you haue, and kist the wilde waues whist: Foote it featly heere, and there, and sweete Sprights beare the burthen.

Burthen dispersedly.

Harke, harke, bowgh wawgh: the watch-Dogges barke, bowgh-wawgh

Ar. Hark, hark, I heare, the straine of strutting Chanticlere cry cockadidle-dowe

Fer. Where shold this Musick be? I'th aire, or th' earth? It sounds no more: and sure it waytes vpon Some God o'th' Iland, sitting on a banke, Weeping againe the King my Fathers wracke. This Musicke crept by me vpon the waters, Allaying both their fury, and my passion With it's sweet ayre: thence I haue follow'd it (Or it hath drawne me rather) but 'tis gone. No, it begins againe

Ariell Song. Full fadom fiue thy Father lies, Of his bones are Corrall made: Those are pearles that were his eies, Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a Sea-change Into something rich, & strange: Sea-Nimphs hourly ring his knell.

Burthen: ding dong. Harke now I heare them, ding-dong bell

Fer. The Ditty do's remember my drown'd father, This is no mortall busines, nor no sound That the earth owes: I heare it now aboue me

Pro. The fringed Curtaines of thine eye aduance, And say what thou see'st yond

Mira. What is't a Spirit? Lord, how it lookes about: Beleeue me sir, It carries a braue forme. But 'tis a spirit

Pro. No wench, it eats, and sleeps, & hath such senses As we haue: such. This Gallant which thou seest Was in the wracke: and but hee's something stain'd With greefe (that's beauties canker) y might'st call him A goodly person: he hath lost his fellowes, And strayes about to finde 'em

Mir. I might call him A thing diuine, for nothing naturall I euer saw so Noble

Pro. It goes on I see As my soule prompts it: Spirit, fine spirit, Ile free thee Within two dayes for this

Fer. Most sure the Goddesse On whom these ayres attend: Vouchsafe my pray'r May know if you remaine vpon this Island, And that you will some good instruction giue How I may beare me heere: my prime request (Which I do last pronounce) is (O you wonder) If you be Mayd, or no?

Mir. No wonder Sir, But certainly a Mayd

Fer. My Language? Heauens: I am the best of them that speake this speech, Were I but where 'tis spoken

Pro. How? the best? What wer't thou if the King of Naples heard thee?

Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders To heare thee speake of Naples: he do's heare me, And that he do's, I weepe: my selfe am Naples, Who, with mine eyes (neuer since at ebbe) beheld The King my Father wrack't

Mir. Alacke, for mercy

Fer. Yes faith, & all his Lords, the Duke of Millaine And his braue sonne, being twaine

Pro. The Duke of Millaine And his more brauer daughter, could controll thee If now 'twere fit to do't: At the first sight They haue chang'd eyes: Delicate Ariel, Ile set thee free for this. A word good Sir, I feare you haue done your selfe some wrong: A word

Mir. Why speakes my father so vngently? This Is the third man that ere I saw: the first That ere I sigh'd for: pitty moue my father To be enclin'd my way

Fer. O, if a Virgin, And your affection not gone forth, Ile make you The Queene of Naples

Pro. Soft sir, one word more. They are both in eythers pow'rs: But this swift busines I must vneasie make, least too light winning Make the prize light. One word more: I charge thee That thou attend me: Thou do'st heere vsurpe The name thou ow'st not, and hast put thy selfe Vpon this Island, as a spy, to win it From me, the Lord on't

Fer. No, as I am a man

Mir. Ther's nothing ill, can dwell in such a Temple, If the ill-spirit haue so fayre a house, Good things will striue to dwell with't

Pro. Follow me

Pros. Speake not you for him: hee's a Traitor: come, Ile manacle thy necke and feete together: Sea water shalt thou drinke: thy food shall be The fresh-brooke Mussels, wither'd roots, and huskes Wherein the Acorne cradled. Follow

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

He drawes, and is charmed from mouing.

Mira. O deere Father, Make not too rash a triall of him, for Hee's gentle, and not fearfull

Pros. What I say, My foote my Tutor? Put thy sword vp Traitor, Who mak'st a shew, but dar'st not strike: thy conscience Is so possest with guilt: Come, from thy ward, For I can heere disarme thee with this sticke, And make thy weapon drop

Mira. Beseech you Father

Pros. Hence: hang not on my garments

Mira. Sir haue pity, Ile be his surety

Pros. Silence: One word more Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee: What, An aduocate for an Impostor? Hush: Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he, (Hauing seene but him and Caliban:) Foolish wench, To th' most of men, this is a Caliban, And they to him are Angels

Mira. My affections Are then most humble: I haue no ambition To see a goodlier man

Pros. Come on, obey: Thy Nerues are in their infancy againe. And haue no vigour in them

Fer. So they are: My spirits, as in a dreame, are all bound vp: My Fathers losse, the weaknesse which I feele, The wracke of all my friends, nor this mans threats, To whom I am subdude, are but light to me, Might I but through my prison once a day Behold this Mayd: all corners else o'th' Earth Let liberty make vse of: space enough Haue I in such a prison

Pros. It workes: Come on. Thou hast done well, fine Ariell: follow me, Harke what thou else shalt do mee

Mira. Be of comfort, My Fathers of a better nature (Sir) Then he appeares by speech: this is vnwonted Which now came from him

Pros. Thou shalt be as free As mountaine windes; but then exactly do All points of my command

Ariell. To th' syllable

Pros. Come follow: speake not for him.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, and others.

Gonz. Beseech you Sir, be merry; you haue cause, (So haue we all) of ioy; for our escape Is much beyond our losse; our hint of woe Is common, euery day, some Saylors wife, The Masters of some Merchant, and the Merchant Haue iust our Theame of woe: But for the miracle, (I meane our preseruation) few in millions Can speake like vs: then wisely (good Sir) weigh Our sorrow, with our comfort

Alons. Prethee peace

Seb. He receiues comfort like cold porredge

Ant. The Visitor will not giue him ore so

Seb. Looke, hee's winding vp the watch of his wit, By and by it will strike

Gon. Sir

Seb. One: Tell

Gon. When euery greefe is entertaind, That's offer'd comes to th' entertainer

Seb. A dollor

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

Seb. You haue taken it wiselier then I meant you should

Gon. Therefore my Lord

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

Alon. I pre-thee spare

Gon. Well, I haue done: But yet

Seb. He will be talking

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

Seb. The old Cocke

Ant. The Cockrell

Seb. Done: The wager?

Ant. A Laughter

Seb. A match

Adr. Though this Island seeme to be desert

Seb. Ha, ha, ha

Ant. So: you'r paid

Adr. Vninhabitable, and almost inaccessible

Seb. Yet

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not misse't

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

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench

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

Adr. The ayre breathes vpon vs here most sweetly

Seb. As if it had Lungs, and rotten ones

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

Gon. Heere is euery thing aduantageous to life

Ant. True, saue meanes to liue

Seb. Of that there's none, or little

Gon. How lush and lusty the grasse lookes? How greene?

Ant. The ground indeed is tawny

Seb. With an eye of greene in't

Ant. He misses not much

Seb. No: he doth but mistake the truth totally

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

Seb. As many voucht rarieties are

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

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speake, would it not say he lyes? Seb. I, or very falsely pocket vp his report

Gon. Me thinkes our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Affricke, at the marriage of the kings faire daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis

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

Adri. Tunis was neuer grac'd before with such a Paragon to their Queene

Gon. Not since widdow Dido's time

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

Seb. What if he had said Widdower aeneas too? Good Lord, how you take it?

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

Gon. This Tunis Sir was Carthage

Adri. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you Carthage

Ant. His word is more then the miraculous Harpe

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

Ant. What impossible matter wil he make easy next?

Seb. I thinke hee will carry this Island home in his pocket, and giue it his sonne for an Apple

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

Gon. I

Ant. Why in good time

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

Ant. And the rarest that ere came there

Seb. Bate (I beseech you) widdow Dido

Ant. O Widdow Dido? I, Widdow Dido

Gon. Is not Sir my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I meane in a sort

Ant. That sort was well fish'd for

Gon. When I wore it at your daughters marriage

Alon. You cram these words into mine eares, against the stomacke of my sense: would I had neuer Married my daughter there: For comming thence My sonne is lost, and (in my rate) she too, Who is so farre from Italy remoued, I ne're againe shall see her: O thou mine heire Of Naples and of Millaine, what strange fish Hath made his meale on thee?

Fran. Sir he may liue, I saw him beate the surges vnder him, And ride vpon their backes; he trod the water Whose enmity he flung aside: and brested The surge most swolne that met him: his bold head 'Boue the contentious waues he kept, and oared Himselfe with his good armes in lusty stroke To th' shore; that ore his waue-worne basis bowed As stooping to releeue him: I not doubt He came aliue to Land

Alon. No, no, hee's gone

Seb. Sir you may thank your selfe for this great losse, That would not blesse our Europe with your daughter, But rather loose her to an Affrican, Where she at least, is banish'd from your eye, Who hath cause to wet the greefe on't

Alon. Pre-thee peace

Seb. You were kneel'd too, & importun'd otherwise By all of vs: and the faire soule her selfe Waigh'd betweene loathnesse, and obedience, at Which end o'th' beame should bow: we haue lost your son, I feare for euer: Millaine and Naples haue Mo widdowes in them of this businesse making, Then we bring men to comfort them: The faults your owne

Alon. So is the deer'st oth' losse

Gon. My Lord Sebastian, The truth you speake doth lacke some gentlenesse, And time to speake it in: you rub the sore, When you should bring the plaister

Seb. Very well

Ant. And most Chirurgeonly

Gon. It is foule weather in vs all, good Sir, When you are cloudy

Seb. Fowle weather?

Ant. Very foule

Gon. Had I plantation of this Isle my Lord

Ant. Hee'd sow't with Nettle-seed

Seb. Or dockes, or Mallowes

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

Seb. Scape being drunke, for want of Wine

Gon. I'th' Commonwealth I would (by contraries) Execute all things: For no kinde of Trafficke Would I admit: No name of Magistrate: Letters should not be knowne: Riches, pouerty, And vse of seruice, none: Contract, Succession, Borne, bound of Land, Tilth, Vineyard none: No vse of Mettall, Corne, or Wine, or Oyle: No occupation, all men idle, all: And Women too, but innocent and pure: No Soueraignty

Seb. Yet he would be King on't

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

Gon. All things in common Nature should produce Without sweat or endeuour: Treason, fellony, Sword, Pike, Knife, Gun, or neede of any Engine Would I not haue: but Nature should bring forth Of it owne kinde, all foyzon, all abundance To feed my innocent people

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subiects?

Ant. None (man) all idle; Whores and knaues,

Gon. I would with such perfection gouerne Sir: T' Excell the Golden Age

Seb. 'Saue his Maiesty

Ant. Long liue Gonzalo

Gon. And do you marke me, Sir?

Alon. Pre-thee no more: thou dost talke nothing to me

Gon. I do well beleeue your Highnesse, and did it to minister occasion to these Gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble Lungs, that they alwayes vse to laugh at nothing

Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at

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

Ant. What a blow was there giuen?

Seb. And it had not falne flat-long

Gon. You are Gentlemen of braue mettal: you would lift the Moone out of her spheare, if she would continue in it fiue weekes without changing.

Enter Ariell playing solemne Musicke.

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

Ant. Nay good my Lord, be not angry

Gon. No I warrant you, I will not aduenture my discretion so weakly: Will you laugh me asleepe, for I am very heauy

Ant. Go sleepe, and heare vs

Alon. What, all so soone asleepe? I wish mine eyes Would (with themselues) shut vp my thoughts, I finde they are inclin'd to do so

Seb. Please you Sir, Do not omit the heauy offer of it: It sildome visits sorrow, when it doth, it is a Comforter

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

Alon. Thanke you: Wondrous heauy

Seb. What a strange drowsines possesses them?

Ant. It is the quality o'th' Clymate

Seb. Why Doth it not then our eye-lids sinke? I finde Not my selfe dispos'd to sleep

Ant. Nor I, my spirits are nimble: They fell together all, as by consent They dropt, as by a Thunder-stroke: what might Worthy Sebastian? O, what might? no more: And yet, me thinkes I see it in thy face, What thou should'st be: th' occasion speaks thee, and My strong imagination see's a Crowne Dropping vpon thy head

Seb. What? art thou waking?

Ant. Do you not heare me speake?

Seb. I do, and surely It is a sleepy Language; and thou speak'st Out of thy sleepe: What is it thou didst say? This is a strange repose, to be asleepe With eyes wide open: standing, speaking, mouing: And yet so fast asleepe

Ant. Noble Sebastian, Thou let'st thy fortune sleepe: die rather: wink'st Whiles thou art waking

Seb. Thou do'st snore distinctly, There's meaning in thy snores

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

Seb. Well: I am standing water

Ant. Ile teach you how to flow

Seb. Do so: to ebbe Hereditary Sloth instructs me

Ant. O! If you but knew how you the purpose cherish Whiles thus you mocke it: how in stripping it You more inuest it: ebbing men, indeed (Most often) do so neere the bottome run By their owne feare, or sloth

Seb. 'Pre-thee say on, The setting of thine eye, and cheeke proclaime A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed, Which throwes thee much to yeeld

Ant. Thus Sir: Although this Lord of weake remembrance; this Who shall be of as little memory When he is earth'd, hath here almost perswaded (For hee's a Spirit of perswasion, onely Professes to perswade) the King his sonne's aliue, 'Tis as impossible that hee's vndrown'd, As he that sleepes heere, swims

Seb. I haue no hope That hee's vndrown'd

Ant. O, out of that no hope, What great hope haue you? No hope that way, Is Another way so high a hope, that euen Ambition cannot pierce a winke beyond But doubt discouery there. Will you grant with me That Ferdinand is drown'd

Seb. He's gone

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

Seb. Claribell

Ant. She that is Queene of Tunis: she that dwels Ten leagues beyond mans life: she that from Naples Can haue no note, vnlesse the Sun were post: The Man i'th Moone's too slow, till new-borne chinnes Be rough, and Razor-able: She that from whom We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast againe, (And by that destiny) to performe an act Whereof, what's past is Prologue; what to come In yours, and my discharge

Seb. What stuffe is this? How say you? 'Tis true my brothers daughter's Queene of Tunis, So is she heyre of Naples, 'twixt which Regions There is some space

Ant. A space, whose eu'ry cubit Seemes to cry out, how shall that Claribell Measure vs backe to Naples? keepe in Tunis, And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death That now hath seiz'd them, why they were no worse Then now they are: There be that can rule Naples As well as he that sleepes: Lords, that can prate As amply, and vnnecessarily As this Gonzallo: I my selfe could make A Chough of as deepe chat: O, that you bore The minde that I do; what a sleepe were this For your aduancement? Do you vnderstand me?

Seb. Me thinkes I do

Ant. And how do's your content Tender your owne good fortune?

Seb. I remember You did supplant your Brother Prospero

Ant. True: And looke how well my Garments sit vpon me, Much feater then before: My Brothers seruants Were then my fellowes, now they are my men

Seb. But for your conscience

Ant. I Sir: where lies that? If 'twere a kybe 'Twould put me to my slipper: But I feele not This Deity in my bosome: 'Twentie consciences That stand 'twixt me, and Millaine, candied be they, And melt ere they mollest: Heere lies your Brother, No better then the earth he lies vpon, If he were that which now hee's like (that's dead) Whom I with this obedient steele (three inches of it) Can lay to bed for euer: whiles you doing thus, To the perpetuall winke for aye might put This ancient morsell: this Sir Prudence, who Should not vpbraid our course: for all the rest They'l take suggestion, as a Cat laps milke, They'l tell the clocke, to any businesse that We say befits the houre

Seb. Thy case, deere Friend Shall be my president: As thou got'st Millaine, I'le come by Naples: Draw thy sword, one stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou paiest, And I the King shall loue thee

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

Seb. O, but one word.

Enter Ariell with Musicke and Song.

Ariel. My Master through his Art foresees the danger That you (his friend) are in, and sends me forth (For else his proiect dies) to keepe them liuing.

Sings in Gonzaloes eare.

While you here do snoaring lie, Open-ey'd Conspiracie His time doth take: If of Life you keepe a care, Shake off slumber and beware. Awake, awake

Ant. Then let vs both be sodaine

Gon. Now, good Angels preserue the King

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

Gon. What's the matter?

Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose, (Euen now) we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like Buls, or rather Lyons, did't not wake you? It strooke mine eare most terribly

Alo. I heard nothing

Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a Monsters eare; To make an earthquake: sure it was the roare Of a whole heard of Lyons

Alo. Heard you this Gonzalo?

Gon. Vpon mine honour, Sir, I heard a humming, (And that a strange one too) which did awake me: I shak'd you Sir, and cride: as mine eyes opend, I saw their weapons drawne: there was a noyse, That's verily: 'tis best we stand vpon our guard; Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons

Alo. Lead off this ground & let's make further search For my poore sonne

Gon. Heauens keepe him from these Beasts: For he is sure i'th Island

Alo. Lead away

Ariell. Prospero my Lord, shall know what I haue done. So (King) goe safely on to seeke thy Son.

Exeunt.

Scoena Secunda.

Enter Caliban, with a burthen of Wood (a noyse of thunder heard.)

Cal. All the infections that the Sunne suckes vp From Bogs, Fens, Flats, on Prosper fall, and make him By ynch-meale a disease: his Spirits heare me, And yet I needes must curse. But they'll nor pinch, Fright me with Vrchyn-shewes, pitch me i'th mire, Nor lead me like a fire-brand, in the darke Out of my way, vnlesse he bid 'em; but For euery trifle, are they set vpon me, Sometime like Apes, that moe and chatter at me, And after bite me: then like Hedg-hogs, which Lye tumbling in my bare-foote way, and mount Their pricks at my foot-fall: sometime am I All wound with Adders, who with clouen tongues Doe hisse me into madnesse: Lo, now Lo,

Enter Trinculo.

Here comes a Spirit of his, and to torment me For bringing wood in slowly: I'le fall flat, Perchance he will not minde me

Tri. Here's neither bush, nor shrub to beare off any weather at all: and another Storme brewing, I heare it sing ith' winde: yond same blacke cloud, yond huge one, lookes like a foule bumbard that would shed his licquor: if it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailefuls. What haue we here, a man, or a fish? dead or aliue? a fish, hee smels like a fish: a very ancient and fish-like smell: a kinde of, not of the newest poore-Iohn: a strange fish: were I in England now (as once I was) and had but this fish painted; not a holiday-foole there but would giue a peece of siluer: there, would this Monster, make a man: any strange beast there, makes a man: when they will not giue a doit to relieue a lame Begger, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian: Leg'd like a man; and his Finnes like Armes: warme o'my troth: I doe now let loose my opinion; hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an Islander, that hath lately suffered by a Thunderbolt: Alas, the storme is come againe: my best way is to creepe vnder his Gaberdine: there is no other shelter hereabout: Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellowes: I will here shrowd till the dregges of the storme be past.

Enter Stephano singing..

Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea, here shall I dye ashore. This is a very scuruy tune to sing at a mans Funerall: well, here's my comfort.

Drinkes.

Sings.

The Master, the Swabber, the Boate-swaine & I; The Gunner, and his Mate Lou'd Mall, Meg, and Marrian, and Margerie, But none of vs car'd for Kate. For she had a tongue with a tang, Would cry to a Sailor goe hang: She lou'd not the sauour of Tar nor of Pitch, Yet a Tailor might scratch her where ere she did itch. Then to Sea Boyes, and let her goe hang. This is a scuruy tune too: But here's my comfort.

Drinks.

Cal. Doe not torment me: oh

Ste. What's the matter? Haue we diuels here? Doe you put trickes vpon's with Saluages, and Men of Inde? ha? I haue not scap'd drowning, to be afeard now of your foure legges: for it hath bin said; as proper a man as euer went on foure legs, cannot make him giue ground: and it shall be said so againe, while Stephano breathes at' nostrils

Cal. The Spirit torments me: oh

Ste. This is some Monster of the Isle, with foure legs; who hath got (as I take it) an Ague: where the diuell should he learne our language? I will giue him some reliefe if it be but for that: if I can recouer him, and keepe him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a Present for any Emperour that euer trod on Neates-leather

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

Ste. He's in his fit now; and doe's not talke after the wisest; hee shall taste of my Bottle: if hee haue neuer drunke wine afore, it will goe neere to remoue his Fit: if I can recouer him, and keepe him tame, I will not take too much for him; hee shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly

Cal. Thou do'st me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling: Now Prosper workes vpon thee

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

Tri. I should know that voyce: It should be, But hee is dround; and these are diuels; O defend me

Ste. Foure legges and two voyces; a most delicate Monster: his forward voyce now is to speake well of his friend; his backward voice, is to vtter foule speeches, and to detract: if all the wine in my bottle will recouer him, I will helpe his Ague: Come: Amen, I will poure some in thy other mouth

Tri. Stephano

Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy: This is a diuell, and no Monster: I will leaue him, I haue no long Spoone

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

Ste. If thou bee'st Trinculo: come forth: I'le pull thee by the lesser legges: if any be Trinculo's legges, these are they: Thou art very Trinculo indeede: how cam'st thou to be the siege of this Moone-calfe? Can he vent Trinculo's?

Tri. I tooke him to be kil'd with a thunder-strok; but art thou not dround Stephano: I hope now thou art not dround: Is the Storme ouer-blowne? I hid mee vnder the dead Moone-Calfes Gaberdine, for feare of the Storme: And art thou liuing Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitanes scap'd?

Ste. 'Prethee doe not turne me about, my stomacke is not constant

Cal. These be fine things, and if they be not sprights: that's a braue God, and beares Celestiall liquor: I will kneele to him

Ste. How did'st thou scape? How cam'st thou hither? Sweare by this Bottle how thou cam'st hither: I escap'd vpon a But of Sacke, which the Saylors heaued o'reboord, by this Bottle which I made of the barke of a Tree, with mine owne hands, since I was cast a'shore

Cal. I'le sweare vpon that Bottle, to be thy true subiect, for the liquor is not earthly

St. Heere: sweare then how thou escap'dst

Tri. Swom ashore (man) like a Ducke: I can swim like a Ducke i'le be sworne

Ste. Here, kisse the Booke. Though thou canst swim like a Ducke, thou art made like a Goose

Tri. O Stephano, ha'st any more of this?

Ste. The whole But (man) my Cellar is in a rocke by th' sea-side, where my Wine is hid: How now Moone-Calfe, how do's thine Ague?

Cal. Ha'st thou not dropt from heauen?

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

Cal. I haue seene thee in her: and I doe adore thee: My Mistris shew'd me thee, and thy Dog, and thy Bush

Ste. Come, sweare to that: kisse the Booke: I will furnish it anon with new Contents: Sweare

Tri. By this good light, this is a very shallow Monster: I afeard of him? a very weake Monster: The Man ith' Moone? A most poore creadulous Monster: Well drawne Monster, in good sooth

Cal. Ile shew thee euery fertill ynch o'th Island: and I will kisse thy foote: I prethee be my god

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

Cal. Ile kisse thy foot, Ile sweare my selfe thy Subiect

Ste. Come on then: downe and sweare

Tri. I shall laugh my selfe to death at this puppi-headed Monster: a most scuruie Monster: I could finde in my heart to beate him

Ste. Come, kisse

Tri. But that the poore Monster's in drinke: An abhominable Monster

Cal. I'le shew thee the best Springs: I'le plucke thee Berries: I'le fish for thee; and get thee wood enough. A plague vpon the Tyrant that I serue; I'le beare him no more Stickes, but follow thee, thou wondrous man

Tri. A most rediculous Monster, to make a wonder of a poore drunkard

Cal. I 'prethee let me bring thee where Crabs grow; and I with my long nayles will digge thee pig-nuts; show thee a Iayes nest, and instruct thee how to snare the nimble Marmazet: I'le bring thee to clustring Philbirts, and sometimes I'le get thee young Scamels from the Rocke: Wilt thou goe with me?

Ste. I pre'thee now lead the way without any more talking. Trinculo, the King, and all our company else being dround, wee will inherit here: Here; beare my Bottle: Fellow Trinculo; we'll fill him by and by againe.

Caliban Sings drunkenly.

Farewell Master; farewell, farewell

Tri. A howling Monster: a drunken Monster

Cal. No more dams I'le make for fish, Nor fetch in firing, at requiring, Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish, Ban' ban' Cacalyban Has a new Master, get a new Man. Freedome, high-day, high-day freedome, freedome highday, freedome

Ste. O braue Monster; lead the way.

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius. Scoena Prima.

Enter Ferdinand (bearing a Log.)

Fer. There be some Sports are painfull; & their labor Delight in them set off: Some kindes of basenesse Are nobly vndergon; and most poore matters Point to rich ends: this my meane Taske Would be as heauy to me, as odious, but The Mistris which I serue, quickens what's dead, And makes my labours, pleasures: O She is Ten times more gentle, then her Father's crabbed; And he's compos'd of harshnesse. I must remoue Some thousands of these Logs, and pile them vp, Vpon a sore iniunction; my sweet Mistris Weepes when she sees me worke, & saies, such basenes Had neuer like Executor: I forget: But these sweet thoughts, doe euen refresh my labours, Most busie lest, when I doe it.

Enter Miranda | and Prospero.

Mir. Alas, now pray you Worke not so hard: I would the lightning had Burnt vp those Logs that you are enioynd to pile: Pray set it downe, and rest you: when this burnes 'Twill weepe for hauing wearied you: my Father Is hard at study; pray now rest your selfe, Hee's safe for these three houres

Fer. O most deere Mistris The Sun will set before I shall discharge What I must striue to do

Mir. If you'l sit downe Ile beare your Logges the while: pray giue me that, Ile carry it to the pile

Fer. No precious Creature, I had rather cracke my sinewes, breake my backe, Then you should such dishonor vndergoe, While I sit lazy by

Mir. It would become me As well as it do's you; and I should do it With much more ease: for my good will is to it, And yours it is against

Pro. Poore worme thou art infected, This visitation shewes it

Mir. You looke wearily

Fer. No, noble Mistris, 'tis fresh morning with me When you are by at night: I do beseech you Cheefely, that I might set it in my prayers, What is your name?

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

Fer. Admir'd Miranda, Indeede the top of Admiration, worth What's deerest to the world: full many a Lady I haue ey'd with best regard, and many a time Th' harmony of their tongues, hath into bondage Brought my too diligent eare: for seuerall vertues Haue I lik'd seuerall women, neuer any With so full soule, but some defect in her Did quarrell with the noblest grace she ow'd, And put it to the foile. But you, O you, So perfect, and so peerlesse, are created Of euerie Creatures best

Mir. I do not know One of my sexe; no womans face remember, Saue from my glasse, mine owne: Nor haue I seene More that I may call men, then you good friend, And my deere Father: how features are abroad I am skillesse of; but by my modestie (The iewell in my dower) I would not wish Any Companion in the world but you: Nor can imagination forme a shape Besides your selfe, to like of: but I prattle Something too wildely, and my Fathers precepts I therein do forget

Fer. I am, in my condition A Prince (Miranda) I do thinke a King (I would not so) and would no more endure This wodden slauerie, then to suffer The flesh-flie blow my mouth: heare my soule speake. The verie instant that I saw you, did My heart flie to your seruice, there resides To make me slaue to it, and for your sake Am I this patient Logge-man

Mir. Do you loue me?

Fer. O heauen; O earth, beare witnes to this sound, And crowne what I professe with kinde euent If I speake true: if hollowly, inuert What best is boaded me, to mischiefe: I, Beyond all limit of what else i'th world Do loue, prize, honor you

Mir. I am a foole To weepe at what I am glad of

Pro. Faire encounter Of two most rare affections: heauens raine grace On that which breeds betweene 'em

Fer. Wherefore weepe you?

Mir. At mine vnworthinesse, that dare not offer What I desire to giue; and much lesse take What I shall die to want: But this is trifling, And all the more it seekes to hide it selfe, The bigger bulke it shewes. Hence bashfull cunning, And prompt me plaine and holy innocence. I am your wife, if you will marrie me; If not, Ile die your maid: to be your fellow You may denie me, but Ile be your seruant Whether you will or no

Fer. My Mistris (deerest) And I thus humble euer

Mir. My husband then?

Fer. I, with a heart as willing As bondage ere of freedome: heere's my hand

Mir. And mine, with my heart in't; and now farewel Till halfe an houre hence

Fer. A thousand, thousand.

Exeunt.

Pro. So glad of this as they I cannot be, Who are surpriz'd with all; but my reioycing At nothing can be more: Ile to my booke, For yet ere supper time, must I performe Much businesse appertaining.

Enter.

Scoena Secunda.

Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo.

Ste. Tell not me, when the But is out we will drinke water, not a drop before; therefore beare vp, & boord em' Seruant Monster, drinke to me

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

Ste. Drinke seruant Monster when I bid thee, thy eies are almost set in thy head

Trin. Where should they bee set else? hee were a braue Monster indeede if they were set in his taile

Ste. My man-Monster hath drown'd his tongue in sacke: for my part the Sea cannot drowne mee, I swam ere I could recouer the shore, fiue and thirtie Leagues off and on, by this light thou shalt bee my Lieutenant Monster, or my Standard

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

Ste. Weel not run Monsieur Monster

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

Ste. Moone-calfe, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a good Moone-calfe

Cal. How does thy honour? Let me licke thy shooe: Ile not serue him, he is not valiant

Trin. Thou liest most ignorant Monster, I am in case to iustle a Constable: why, thou debosh'd Fish thou, was there euer man a Coward, that hath drunk so much Sacke as I to day? wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but halfe a Fish, and halfe a Monster?

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

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

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

Ste. Trinculo, keepe a good tongue in your head: If you proue a mutineere, the next Tree: the poore Monster's my subiect, and he shall not suffer indignity

Cal. I thanke my noble Lord. Wilt thou be pleas'd to hearken once againe to the suite I made to thee?

Ste. Marry will I: kneele, and repeate it, I will stand, and so shall Trinculo.

Enter Ariell inuisible.

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

Ariell. Thou lyest

Cal. Thou lyest, thou iesting Monkey thou: I would my valiant Master would destroy thee. I do not lye

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

Trin. Why, I said nothing

Ste. Mum then, and no more: proceed

Cal. I say by Sorcery he got this Isle From me, he got it. If thy Greatnesse will Reuenge it on him, (for I know thou dar'st) But this Thing dare not

Ste. That's most certaine

Cal. Thou shalt be Lord of it, and Ile serue thee

Ste. How now shall this be compast? Canst thou bring me to the party?

Cal. Yea, yea my Lord, Ile yeeld him thee asleepe, Where thou maist knocke a naile into his head

Ariell. Thou liest, thou canst not

Cal. What a py'de Ninnie's this? Thou scuruy patch: I do beseech thy Greatnesse giue him blowes, And take his bottle from him: When that's gone, He shall drinke nought but brine, for Ile not shew him Where the quicke Freshes are

Ste. Trinculo, run into no further danger: Interrupt the Monster one word further, and by this hand, Ile turne my mercie out o' doores, and make a Stockfish of thee

Trin. Why, what did I? I did nothing: Ile go farther off

Ste. Didst thou not say he lyed? Ariell. Thou liest

Ste. Do I so? Take thou that, As you like this, giue me the lye another time

Trin. I did not giue the lie: Out o'your wittes, and hearing too? A pox o'your bottle, this can Sacke and drinking doo: A murren on your Monster, and the diuell take your fingers

Cal. Ha, ha, ha

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

Cal. Beate him enough: after a little time Ile beate him too

Ste. Stand farther: Come proceede

Cal. Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custome with him I'th afternoone to sleepe: there thou maist braine him, Hauing first seiz'd his bookes: Or with a logge Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake, Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember First to possesse his Bookes; for without them Hee's but a Sot, as I am; nor hath not One Spirit to command: they all do hate him As rootedly as I. Burne but his Bookes, He ha's braue Vtensils (for so he calles them) Which when he ha's a house, hee'l decke withall. And that most deeply to consider, is The beautie of his daughter: he himselfe Cals her a non-pareill: I neuer saw a woman But onely Sycorax my Dam, and she; But she as farre surpasseth Sycorax, As great'st do's least

Ste. Is it so braue a Lasse?

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

Ste. Monster, I will kill this man: his daughter and I will be King and Queene, saue our Graces: and Trinculo and thy selfe shall be Viceroyes: Dost thou like the plot Trinculo?

Trin. Excellent

Ste. Giue me thy hand, I am sorry I beate thee: But while thou liu'st keepe a good tongue in thy head

Cal. Within this halfe houre will he be asleepe, Wilt thou destroy him then?

Ste. I on mine honour

Ariell. This will I tell my Master

Cal. Thou mak'st me merry: I am full of pleasure, Let vs be iocond. Will you troule the Catch You taught me but whileare?

Ste. At thy request Monster, I will do reason, Any reason: Come on Trinculo, let vs sing.

Sings.

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

Cal. That's not the tune.

Ariell plaies the tune on a Tabor and Pipe.

Ste. What is this same?

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

Ste. If thou beest a man, shew thy selfe in thy likenes: If thou beest a diuell, take't as thou list

Trin. O forgiue me my sinnes

Ste. He that dies payes all debts: I defie thee; Mercy vpon vs

Cal. Art thou affeard?

Ste. No Monster, not I

Cal. Be not affeard, the Isle is full of noyses, Sounds, and sweet aires, that giue delight and hurt not: Sometimes a thousand twangling Instruments Will hum about mine eares; and sometime voices, That if I then had wak'd after long sleepe, Will make me sleepe againe, and then in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and shew riches Ready to drop vpon me, that when I wak'd I cri'de to dreame againe

Ste. This will proue a braue kingdome to me, Where I shall haue my Musicke for nothing

Cal. When Prospero is destroy'd

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

Trin. The sound is going away, Lets follow it, and after do our worke

Ste. Leade Monster, Wee'l follow: I would I could see this Taborer, He layes it on

Trin. Wilt come? Ile follow Stephano.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzallo, Adrian, Francisco, &c.

Gon. By'r lakin, I can goe no further, Sir, My old bones akes: here's a maze trod indeede Through fourth-rights, & Meanders: by your patience, I needes must rest me

Al. Old Lord, I cannot blame thee, Who, am my selfe attach'd with wearinesse To th' dulling of my spirits: Sit downe, and rest: Euen here I will put off my hope, and keepe it No longer for my Flatterer: he is droun'd Whom thus we stray to finde, and the Sea mocks Our frustrate search on land: well, let him goe

Ant. I am right glad, that he's so out of hope: Doe not for one repulse forgoe the purpose That you resolu'd t' effect

Seb. The next aduantage will we take throughly

Ant. Let it be to night, For now they are oppress'd with trauaile, they Will not, nor cannot vse such vigilance As when they are fresh.

Solemne and strange Musicke: and Prosper on the top (inuisible:) Enter seuerall strange shapes, bringing in a Banket; and dance about it with gentle actions of salutations, and inuiting the King, &c. to eate, they depart.

Seb. I say to night: no more

Al. What harmony is this? my good friends, harke

Gon. Maruellous sweet Musicke

Alo. Giue vs kind keepers, heaue[n]s: what were these?

Seb. A liuing Drolerie: now I will beleeue That there are Vnicornes: that in Arabia There is one Tree, the Phoenix throne, one Phoenix At this houre reigning there

Ant. Ile beleeue both: And what do's else want credit, come to me And Ile besworne 'tis true: Trauellers nere did lye, Though fooles at home condemne 'em

Gon. If in Naples I should report this now, would they beleeue me? If I should say I saw such Islands; (For certes, these are people of the Island) Who though they are of monstrous shape, yet note Their manners are more gentle, kinde, then of Our humaine generation you shall finde Many, nay almost any

Pro. Honest Lord, Thou hast said well: for some of you there present; Are worse then diuels

Al. I cannot too much muse Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound expressing (Although they want the vse of tongue) a kinde Of excellent dumbe discourse

Pro. Praise in departing

Fr. They vanish'd strangely

Seb. No matter, since They haue left their Viands behinde; for wee haue stomacks. Wilt please you taste of what is here?

Alo. Not I

Gon. Faith Sir, you neede not feare: when wee were Boyes Who would beleeue that there were Mountayneeres, Dew-lapt, like Buls, whose throats had hanging at 'em Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men Whose heads stood in their brests? which now we finde Each putter out of fiue for one, will bring vs Good warrant of

Al. I will stand to, and feede, Although my last, no matter, since I feele The best is past: brother: my Lord, the Duke, Stand too, and doe as we.

Thunder and Lightning. Enter Ariell (like a Harpey) claps his wings vpon the Table, and with a quient deuice the Banquet vanishes.

Ar. You are three men of sinne, whom destiny That hath to instrument this lower world, And what is in't: the neuer surfeited Sea, Hath caus'd to belch vp you: and on this Island, Where man doth not inhabit, you 'mongst men, Being most vnfit to liue: I haue made you mad; And euen with such like valour, men hang, and drowne Their proper selues: you fooles, I and my fellowes Are ministers of Fate, the Elements Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well Wound the loud windes, or with bemockt-at-Stabs Kill the still closing waters, as diminish One dowle that's in my plumbe: My fellow ministers Are like-invulnerable: if you could hurt, Your swords are now too massie for your strengths, And will not be vplifted: But remember (For that's my businesse to you) that you three From Millaine did supplant good Prospero, Expos'd vnto the Sea (which hath requit it) Him, and his innocent childe: for which foule deed, The Powres, delaying (not forgetting) haue Incens'd the Seas, and Shores; yea, all the Creatures Against your peace: Thee of thy Sonne, Alonso They haue bereft; and doe pronounce by me Lingring perdition (worse then any death Can be at once) shall step, by step attend You, and your wayes, whose wraths to guard you from, Which here, in this most desolate Isle, else fals Vpon your heads, is nothing but hearts-sorrow, And a cleere life ensuing.

He vanishes in Thunder: then (to soft Musicke.) Enter the shapes againe, and daunce (with mockes and mowes) and carrying out the Table.

Pro. Brauely the figure of this Harpie, hast thou Perform'd (my Ariell) a grace it had deuouring: Of my Instruction, hast thou nothing bated In what thou had'st to say: so with good life, And obseruation strange, my meaner ministers Their seuerall kindes haue done: my high charmes work, And these (mine enemies) are all knit vp In their distractions: they now are in my powre; And in these fits, I leaue them, while I visit Yong Ferdinand (whom they suppose is droun'd) And his, and mine lou'd darling

Gon. I'th name of something holy, Sir, why stand you In this strange stare?

Al. O, it is monstrous: monstrous: Me thought the billowes spoke, and told me of it, The windes did sing it to me: and the Thunder (That deepe and dreadfull Organ-Pipe) pronounc'd The name of Prosper: it did base my Trespasse, Therefore my Sonne i'th Ooze is bedded; and I'le seeke him deeper then ere plummet sounded, And with him there lye mudded.

Enter.

Seb. But one feend at a time, Ile fight their Legions ore

Ant. Ile be thy Second.

Exeunt.

Gon. All three of them are desperate: their great guilt (Like poyson giuen to worke a great time after) Now gins to bite the spirits: I doe beseech you (That are of suppler ioynts) follow them swiftly, And hinder them from what this extasie May now prouoke them to

Ad. Follow, I pray you.

Exeunt. omnes.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda.

Pro. If I haue too austerely punish'd you, Your compensation makes amends, for I Haue giuen you here, a third of mine owne life, Or that for which I liue: who, once againe I tender to thy hand: All thy vexations Were but my trials of thy loue, and thou Hast strangely stood the test: here, afore heauen I ratifie this my rich guift: O Ferdinand, Doe not smile at me, that I boast her of, For thou shalt finde she will out-strip all praise And make it halt, behinde her

Fer. I doe beleeue it Against an Oracle

Pro. Then, as my guest, and thine owne acquisition Worthily purchas'd, take my daughter: But If thou do'st breake her Virgin-knot, before All sanctimonious ceremonies may With full and holy right, be ministred, No sweet aspersion shall the heauens let fall To make this contract grow; but barraine hate, Sower-ey'd disdaine, and discord shall bestrew The vnion of your bed, with weedes so loathly That you shall hate it both: Therefore take heede, As Hymens Lamps shall light you

Fer. As I hope For quiet dayes, faire Issue, and long life, With such loue, as 'tis now the murkiest den, The most opportune place, the strongst suggestion, Our worser Genius can, shall neuer melt Mine honor into lust, to take away The edge of that dayes celebration, When I shall thinke, or Phoebus Steeds are founderd, Or Night kept chain'd below

Pro. Fairely spoke; Sit then, and talke with her, she is thine owne; What Ariell; my industrious serua[n]t Ariell.

Enter Ariell.

Ar. What would my potent master? here I am

Pro. Thou, and thy meaner fellowes, your last seruice Did worthily performe: and I must vse you In such another tricke: goe bring the rabble (Ore whom I giue thee powre) here, to this place: Incite them to quicke motion, for I must Bestow vpon the eyes of this yong couple Some vanity of mine Art: it is my promise, And they expect it from me

Ar. Presently?

Pro. I: with a twincke

Ar. Before you can say come, and goe, And breathe twice; and cry, so, so: Each one tripping on his Toe, Will be here with mop, and mowe. Doe you loue me Master? no?

Pro. Dearely, my delicate Ariell: doe not approach Till thou do'st heare me call

Ar. Well: I conceiue.

Enter.

Pro. Looke thou be true: doe not giue dalliance Too much the raigne: the strongest oathes, are straw To th' fire ith' blood: be more abstenious, Or else good night your vow

Fer. I warrant you, Sir, The white cold virgin Snow, vpon my heart Abates the ardour of my Liuer

Pro. Well. Now come my Ariell, bring a Corolary, Rather then want a Spirit; appear, & pertly.

Soft musick.

No tongue: all eyes: be silent.

Enter Iris.

Ir. Ceres, most bounteous Lady, thy rich Leas Of Wheate, Rye, Barley, Fetches, Oates and Pease; Thy Turphie-Mountaines, where liue nibling Sheepe, And flat Medes thetchd with Stouer, them to keepe: Thy bankes with pioned, and twilled brims Which spungie Aprill, at thy hest betrims; To make cold Nymphes chast crownes; & thy broomegroues; Whose shadow the dismissed Batchelor loues, Being lasse-lorne: thy pole-clipt vineyard, And thy Sea-marge stirrile, and rockey-hard, Where thou thy selfe do'st ayre, the Queene o'th Skie, Whose watry Arch, and messenger, am I. Bids thee leaue these, & with her soueraigne grace,

Iuno descends.

Here on this grasse-plot, in this very place To come, and sport: here Peacocks flye amaine: Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertaine.

Enter Ceres.

Cer. Haile, many-coloured Messenger, that nere Do'st disobey the wife of Iupiter: Who, with thy saffron wings, vpon my flowres Diffusest hony drops, refreshing showres, And with each end of thy blew bowe do'st crowne My boskie acres, and my vnshrubd downe, Rich scarph to my proud earth: why hath thy Queene Summond me hither, to this short gras'd Greene?

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

Cer. Tell me heauenly Bowe, If Venus or her Sonne, as thou do'st know, Doe now attend the Queene? since they did plot The meanes, that duskie Dis, my daughter got, Her, and her blind-Boyes scandald company, I haue forsworne

Ir. Of her societie Be not afraid: I met her deitie Cutting the clouds towards Paphos: and her Son Doue-drawn with her: here thought they to haue done Some wanton charme, vpon this Man and Maide, Whose vowes are, that no bed-right shall be paid Till Hymens Torch be lighted: but in vaine, Marses hot Minion is returnd againe, Her waspish headed sonne, has broke his arrowes, Swears he will shoote no more, but play with Sparrows, And be a Boy right out

Cer. Highest Queene of State, Great Iuno comes, I know her by her gate

Iu. How do's my bounteous sister? goe with me To blesse this twaine, that they may prosperous be, And honourd in their Issue.

They sing.

Iu. Honor, riches, marriage, blessing, Long continuance, and encreasing, Hourely ioyes, be still vpon you, Iuno sings her blessings on you. Earths increase, foyzon plentie, Barnes, and Garners, neuer empty. Vines, with clustring bunches growing, Plants, with goodly burthen bowing: Spring come to you at the farthest, In the very end of Haruest. Scarcity and want shall shun you, Ceres blessing so is on you

Fer. This is a most maiesticke vision, and Harmonious charmingly: may I be bold To thinke these spirits?

Pro. Spirits, which by mine Art I haue from their confines call'd to enact My present fancies

Fer. Let me liue here euer, So rare a wondred Father, and a wise Makes this place Paradise

Pro. Sweet now, silence: Iuno and Ceres whisper seriously, There's something else to doe: hush, and be mute Or else our spell is mar'd.

Iuno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on employment.

Iris. You Nimphs cald Nayades of y windring brooks, With your sedg'd crownes, and euer-harmelesse lookes, Leaue your crispe channels, and on this green-Land Answere your summons, Iuno do's command. Come temperate Nimphes, and helpe to celebrate A Contract of true Loue: be not too late.

Enter Certaine Nimphes.

You Sun-burn'd Sicklemen of August weary, Come hether from the furrow, and be merry, Make holly day: your Rye-straw hats put on, And these fresh Nimphes encounter euery one In Country footing.

Enter certaine Reapers (properly habited:) they ioyne with the Nimphes, in a gracefull dance, towards the end whereof, Prospero starts sodainly and speakes, after which to a strange hollow and confused noyse, they heauily vanish.

Pro. I had forgot that foule conspiracy Of the beast Calliban, and his confederates Against my life: the minute of their plot Is almost come: Well done, auoid: no more

Fer. This is strange: your fathers in some passion That workes him strongly

Mir. Neuer till this day Saw I him touch'd with anger, so distemper'd

Pro. You doe looke (my son) in a mou'd sort, As if you were dismaid: be cheerefull Sir, Our Reuels now are ended: These our actors, (As I foretold you) were all Spirits, and Are melted into Ayre, into thin Ayre, And like the baselesse fabricke of this vision The Clowd-capt Towres, the gorgeous Pallaces, The solemne Temples, the great Globe it selfe, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolue, And like this insubstantiall Pageant faded Leaue not a racke behinde: we are such stuffe As dreames are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleepe: Sir, I am vext, Beare with my weakenesse, my old braine is troubled: Be not disturb'd with my infirmitie, If you be pleas'd, retire into my Cell, And there repose, a turne or two, Ile walke To still my beating minde

Fer. Mir. We wish your peace.

Enter.

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

Enter Ariell.

Ar. Thy thoughts I cleaue to, what's thy pleasure?

Pro. Spirit: We must prepare to meet with Caliban

Ar. I my Commander, when I presented Ceres I thought to haue told thee of it, but I fear'd Least I might anger thee

Pro. Say again, where didst thou leaue these varlots?

Ar. I told you Sir, they were red-hot with drinking, So full of valour, that they smote the ayre For breathing in their faces: beate the ground For kissing of their feete; yet alwaies bending Towards their proiect: then I beate my Tabor, At which like vnback't colts they prickt their eares, Aduanc'd their eye-lids, lifted vp their noses As they smelt musicke, so I charm'd their eares That Calfe-like, they my lowing follow'd, through Tooth'd briars, sharpe firzes, pricking gosse, & thorns, Which entred their fraile shins: at last I left them I'th' filthy mantled poole beyond your Cell, There dancing vp to th' chins, that the fowle Lake Ore-stunck their feet

Pro. This was well done (my bird) Thy shape inuisible retaine thou still: The trumpery in my house, goe bring it hither For stale to catch these theeues

Ar. I go, I goe.

Enter.

Pro. A Deuill, a borne-Deuill, on whose nature Nurture can neuer sticke: on whom my paines Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost, And, as with age, his body ouglier growes, So his minde cankers: I will plague them all, Euen to roaring: Come, hang on them this line.

Enter Ariell, loaden with glistering apparell, &c. Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo, all wet.

Cal. Pray you tread softly, that the blinde Mole may not heare a foot fall: we now are neere his Cell

St. Monster, your Fairy, w you say is a harmles Fairy, Has done little better then plaid the Iacke with vs

Trin. Monster, I do smell all horse-pisse, at which My nose is in great indignation

Ste. So is mine. Do you heare Monster: If I should Take a displeasure against you: Looke you

Trin. Thou wert but a lost Monster

Cal. Good my Lord, giue me thy fauour stil, Be patient, for the prize Ile bring thee too Shall hudwinke this mischance: therefore speake softly, All's husht as midnight yet

Trin. I, but to loose our bottles in the Poole

Ste. There is not onely disgrace and dishonor in that Monster, but an infinite losse

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

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

Cal. Pre-thee (my King) be quiet. Seest thou heere This is the mouth o'th Cell: no noise, and enter: Do that good mischeefe, which may make this Island Thine owne for euer, and I thy Caliban For aye thy foot-licker

Ste. Giue me thy hand, I do begin to haue bloody thoughts

Trin. O King Stephano, O Peere: O worthy Stephano, Looke what a wardrobe heere is for thee

Cal. Let it alone thou foole, it is but trash

Tri. Oh, ho, Monster: wee know what belongs to a frippery, O King Stephano

Ste. Put off that gowne (Trinculo) by this hand Ile haue that gowne

Tri. Thy grace shall haue it

Cal. The dropsie drowne this foole, what doe you meane To doate thus on such luggage? let's alone And doe the murther first: if he awake, From toe to crowne hee'l fill our skins with pinches, Make vs strange stuffe

Ste. Be you quiet (Monster) Mistris line, is not this my Ierkin? how is the Ierkin vnder the line: now Ierkin you are like to lose your haire, & proue a bald Ierkin

Trin. Doe, doe; we steale by lyne and leuell, and't like your grace

Ste. I thank thee for that iest; heer's a garment for't: Wit shall not goe vn-rewarded while I am King of this Country: Steale by line and leuell, is an excellent passe of pate: there's another garment for't

Tri. Monster, come put some Lime vpon your fingers, and away with the rest

Cal. I will haue none on't: we shall loose our time, And all be turn'd to Barnacles, or to Apes With foreheads villanous low

Ste. Monster, lay to your fingers: helpe to beare this away, where my hogshead of wine is, or Ile turne you out of my kingdome: goe to, carry this

Tri. And this

Ste. I, and this.

A noyse of Hunters heard. Enter diuers Spirits in shape of Dogs and Hounds, hunting them about: Prospero and Ariel setting them on.

Pro. Hey Mountaine, hey

Ari. Siluer: there it goes, Siluer

Pro. Fury, Fury: there Tyrant, there: harke, harke. Goe, charge my Goblins that they grinde their ioynts With dry Convultions, shorten vp their sinewes With aged Cramps, & more pinch-spotted make them, Then Pard, or Cat o' Mountaine

Ari. Harke, they rore

Pro. Let them be hunted soundly: At this houre Lies at my mercy all mine enemies: Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou Shalt haue the ayre at freedome: for a little Follow, and doe me seruice.

Exeunt.

Actus quintus: Scoena Prima.

Enter Prospero (in his Magicke robes) and Ariel.

Pro. Now do's my Proiect gather to a head: My charmes cracke not: my Spirits obey, and Time Goes vpright with his carriage: how's the day?

Ar. On the sixt hower, at which time, my Lord You said our worke should cease

Pro. I did say so, When first I rais'd the Tempest: say my Spirit, How fares the King, and's followers?

Ar. Confin'd together In the same fashion, as you gaue in charge, Iust as you left them; all prisoners Sir In the Line-groue which weather-fends your Cell, They cannot boudge till your release: The King, His Brother, and yours, abide all three distracted, And the remainder mourning ouer them, Brim full of sorrow, and dismay: but chiefly Him that you term'd Sir, the good old Lord Gonzallo, His teares runs downe his beard like winters drops From eaues of reeds: your charm so strongly works 'em That if you now beheld them, your affections Would become tender

Pro. Dost thou thinke so, Spirit?

Ar. Mine would, Sir, were I humane

Pro. And mine shall. Hast thou (which art but aire) a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and shall not my selfe, One of their kinde, that rellish all as sharpely, Passion as they, be kindlier mou'd then thou art? Thogh with their high wrongs I am strook to th' quick, Yet, with my nobler reason, gainst my furie Doe I take part: the rarer Action is In vertue, then in vengeance: they, being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frowne further: Goe, release them Ariell, My Charmes Ile breake, their sences Ile restore, And they shall be themselues

Ar. Ile fetch them, Sir.

Enter.

Pro. Ye Elues of hils, brooks, sta[n]ding lakes & groues, And ye, that on the sands with printlesse foote Doe chase the ebbingNeptune, and doe flie him When he comes backe: you demy-Puppets, that By Moone-shine doe the greene sowre Ringlets make, Whereof the Ewe not bites: and you, whose pastime Is to make midnight-Mushrumps, that reioyce To heare the solemne Curfewe, by whose ayde (Weake Masters though ye be) I haue bedymn'd The Noone-tide Sun, call'd forth the mutenous windes, And twixt the greene Sea, and the azur'd vault Set roaring warre: To the dread ratling Thunder Haue I giuen fire, and rifted Ioues stowt Oke With his owne Bolt: The strong bass'd promontorie Haue I made shake, and by the spurs pluckt vp The Pyne, and Cedar. Graues at my command Haue wak'd their sleepers, op'd, and let 'em forth By my so potent Art. But this rough Magicke I heere abiure: and when I haue requir'd Some heauenly Musicke (which euen now I do) To worke mine end vpon their Sences, that This Ayrie-charme is for, I'le breake my staffe, Bury it certaine fadomes in the earth, And deeper then did euer Plummet sound Ile drowne my booke.

Solemne musicke.

Heere enters Ariel before: Then Alonso with a franticke gesture, attended by Gonzalo. Sebastian and Anthonio in like manner attended by Adrian and Francisco: They all enter the circle which Prospero had made, and there stand charm'd: which Prospero obseruing, speakes.

A solemne Ayre, and the best comforter, To an vnsetled fancie, Cure thy braines (Now vselesse) boile within thy skull: there stand For you are Spell-stopt. Holy Gonzallo, Honourable man, Mine eyes ev'n sociable to the shew of thine Fall fellowly drops: The charme dissolues apace, And as the morning steales vpon the night (Melting the darkenesse) so their rising sences Begin to chace the ignorant fumes that mantle Their cleerer reason. O good Gonzallo My true preseruer, and a loyall Sir, To him thou follow'st; I will pay thy graces Home both in word, and deede: Most cruelly Did thou Alonso, vse me, and my daughter: Thy brother was a furtherer in the Act, Thou art pinch'd for't now Sebastian. Flesh, and bloud, You, brother mine, that entertaine ambition, Expelld remorse, and nature, whom, with Sebastian (Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong) Would heere haue kill'd your King: I do forgiue thee, Vnnaturall though thou art: Their vnderstanding Begins to swell, and the approching tide Will shortly fill the reasonable shore That now ly foule, and muddy: not one of them That yet lookes on me, or would know me: Ariell, Fetch me the Hat, and Rapier in my Cell, I will discase me, and my selfe present As I was sometime Millaine: quickly Spirit, Thou shalt ere long be free.

Ariell sings, and helps to attire him.

Where the Bee sucks, there suck I, In a Cowslips bell, I lie, There I cowch when Owles doe crie, On the Batts backe I doe flie after Sommer merrily. Merrily, merrily, shall I liue now, Vnder the blossom that hangs on the Bow

Pro. Why that's my dainty Ariell: I shall misse Thee, but yet thou shalt haue freedome: so, so, so, To the Kings ship, inuisible as thou art, There shalt thou finde the Marriners asleepe Vnder the Hatches: the Master and the Boat-swaine Being awake, enforce them to this place; And presently, I pre'thee

Ar. I drinke the aire before me, and returne Or ere your pulse twice beate.

Enter.

Gon. All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazement Inhabits heere: some heauenly power guide vs Out of this fearefull Country

Pro. Behold Sir King The wronged Duke of Millaine, Prospero: For more assurance that a liuing Prince Do's now speake to thee, I embrace thy body, And to thee, and thy Company, I bid A hearty welcome

Alo. Where thou bee'st he or no, Or some inchanted triflle to abuse me, (As late I haue beene) I not know: thy Pulse Beats as of flesh, and blood: and since I saw thee, Th' affliction of my minde amends, with which I feare a madnesse held me: this must craue (And if this be at all) a most strange story. Thy Dukedome I resigne, and doe entreat Thou pardon me my wrongs: But how shold Prospero Be liuing, and be heere?

Pro. First, noble Frend, Let me embrace thine age, whose honor cannot Be measur'd, or confin'd

Gonz. Whether this be, Or be not, I'le not sweare

Pro. You doe yet taste Some subtleties o'th' Isle, that will nor let you Beleeue things certaine: Wellcome, my friends all, But you, my brace of Lords, were I so minded I heere could plucke his Highnesse frowne vpon you And iustifie you Traitors: at this time I will tell no tales

Seb. The Diuell speakes in him:

Pro. No: For you (most wicked Sir) whom to call brother Would euen infect my mouth, I do forgiue Thy rankest fault; all of them: and require My Dukedome of thee, which, perforce I know Thou must restore

Alo. If thou beest Prospero Giue vs particulars of thy preseruation, How thou hast met vs heere, whom three howres since Were wrackt vpon this shore? where I haue lost (How sharp the point of this remembrance is) My deere sonne Ferdinand

Pro. I am woe for't, Sir

Alo. Irreparable is the losse, and patience Saies, it is past her cure

Pro. I rather thinke You haue not sought her helpe, of whose soft grace For the like losse, I haue her soueraigne aid, And rest my selfe content

Alo. You the like losse?

Pro. As great to me, as late, and supportable To make the deere losse, haue I meanes much weaker Then you may call to comfort you; for I Haue lost my daughter

Alo. A daughter? Oh heauens, that they were liuing both in Naples The King and Queene there, that they were, I wish My selfe were mudded in that oozie bed Where my sonne lies: when did you lose your daughter?

Pro. In this last Tempest. I perceiue these Lords At this encounter doe so much admire, That they deuoure their reason, and scarce thinke Their eies doe offices of Truth: Their words Are naturall breath: but howsoeu'r you haue Beene iustled from your sences, know for certain That I am Prospero, and that very Duke Which was thrust forth of Millaine, who most strangely Vpon this shore (where you were wrackt) was landed To be the Lord on't: No more yet of this, For 'tis a Chronicle of day by day, Not a relation for a break-fast, nor Befitting this first meeting: Welcome, Sir; This Cell's my Court: heere haue I few attendants, And Subiects none abroad: pray you looke in: My Dukedome since you haue giuen me againe, I will requite you with as good a thing, At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye As much, as me my Dukedome.

Here Prospero discouers Ferdinand and Miranda, playing at Chesse.

Mir. Sweet Lord, you play me false

Fer. No my dearest loue, I would not for the world

Mir. Yes, for a score of Kingdomes, you should wrangle, And I would call it faire play

Alo. If this proue A vision of the Island, one deere Sonne Shall I twice loose

Seb. A most high miracle

Fer. Though the Seas threaten they are mercifull, I haue curs'd them without cause

Alo. Now all the blessings Of a glad father, compasse thee about: Arise, and say how thou cam'st heere

Mir. O wonder! How many goodly creatures are there heere? How beauteous mankinde is? O braue new world That has such people in't

Pro. 'Tis new to thee

Alo. What is this Maid, with whom thou was't at play? Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three houres: Is she the goddesse that hath seuer'd vs, And brought vs thus together?

Fer. Sir, she is mortall; But by immortall prouidence, she's mine; I chose her when I could not aske my Father For his aduise: nor thought I had one: She Is daughter to this famous Duke of Millaine, Of whom, so often I haue heard renowne, But neuer saw before: of whom I haue Receiu'd a second life; and second Father This Lady makes him to me

Alo. I am hers. But O, how odly will it sound, that I Must aske my childe forgiuenesse?

Pro. There Sir stop, Let vs not burthen our remembrances, with A heauinesse that's gon

Gon. I haue inly wept, Or should haue spoke ere this: looke downe you gods And on this couple drop a blessed crowne; For it is you, that haue chalk'd forth the way Which brought vs hither

Alo. I say Amen, Gonzallo

Gon. Was Millaine thrust from Millaine, that his Issue Should become Kings of Naples? O reioyce Beyond a common ioy, and set it downe With gold on lasting Pillers: In one voyage Did Claribell her husband finde at Tunis, And Ferdinand her brother, found a wife, Where he himselfe was lost: Prospero, his Dukedome In a poore Isle: and all of vs, our selues, When no man was his owne

Alo. Giue me your hands: Let griefe and sorrow still embrace his heart, That doth not wish you ioy

Gon. Be it so, Amen.

Enter Ariell, with the Master and Boatswaine amazedly following.

O looke Sir, looke Sir, here is more of vs: I prophesi'd, if a Gallowes were on Land This fellow could not drowne: Now blasphemy, That swear'st Grace ore-boord, not an oath on shore, Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the newes?

Bot. The best newes is, that we haue safely found Our King, and company: The next: our Ship, Which but three glasses since, we gaue out split, Is tyte, and yare, and brauely rig'd, as when We first put out to Sea

Ar. Sir, all this seruice Haue I done since I went

Pro. My tricksey Spirit

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

Bot. If I did thinke, Sir, I were well awake, I'ld striue to tell you: we were dead of sleepe, And (how we know not) all clapt vnder hatches, Where, but euen now, with strange, and seuerall noyses Of roring, shreeking, howling, gingling chaines, And mo diuersitie of sounds, all horrible. We were awak'd: straight way, at liberty; Where we, in all our trim, freshly beheld Our royall, good, and gallant Ship: our Master Capring to eye her: on a trice, so please you, Euen in a dreame, were we diuided from them, And were brought moaping hither

Ar. Was't well done?

Pro. Brauely (my diligence) thou shalt be free

Alo. This is as strange a Maze, as ere men trod, And there is in this businesse, more then nature Was euer conduct of: some Oracle Must rectifie our knowledge

Pro. Sir, my Leige, Doe not infest your minde, with beating on The strangenesse of this businesse, at pickt leisure (Which shall be shortly single) I'le resolue you, (Which to you shall seeme probable) of euery These happend accidents: till when, be cheerefull And thinke of each thing well: Come hither Spirit, Set Caliban, and his companions free: Vntye the Spell: How fares my gracious Sir? There are yet missing of your Companie Some few odde Lads, that you remember not.

Enter Ariell, driuing in Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo in their stolne Apparell.

Ste. Euery man shift for all the rest, and let No man take care for himselfe; for all is But fortune: Coragio Bully-Monster Coragio

Tri. If these be true spies which I weare in my head, here's a goodly sight

Cal. O Setebos, these be braue Spirits indeede: How fine my Master is? I am afraid He will chastise me

Seb. Ha, ha: What things are these, my Lord Anthonio? Will money buy em?

Ant. Very like: one of them Is a plaine Fish, and no doubt marketable

Pro. Marke but the badges of these men, my Lords, Then say if they be true: This mishapen knaue; His Mother was a Witch, and one so strong That could controle the Moone; make flowes, and ebs, And deale in her command, without her power: These three haue robd me, and this demy-diuell; (For he's a bastard one) had plotted with them To take my life: two of these Fellowes, you Must know, and owne, this Thing of darkenesse, I Acknowledge mine

Cal. I shall be pincht to death

Alo. Is not this Stephano, my drunken Butler?

Seb. He is drunke now; Where had he wine?

Alo. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they Finde this grand Liquor that hath gilded 'em? How cam'st thou in this pickle?

Tri. I haue bin in such a pickle since I saw you last, That I feare me will neuer out of my bones: I shall not feare fly-blowing

Seb. Why how now Stephano?

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

Pro. You'ld be King o'the Isle, Sirha?

Ste. I should haue bin a sore one then

Alo. This is a strange thing as ere I look'd on

Pro. He is as disproportion'd in his Manners As in his shape: Goe Sirha, to my Cell, Take with you your Companions: as you looke To haue my pardon, trim it handsomely

Cal. I that I will: and Ile be wise hereafter, And seeke for grace: what a thrice double Asse Was I to take this drunkard for a god? And worship this dull foole?

Pro. Goe to, away

Alo. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it

Seb. Or stole it rather

Pro. Sir, I inuite your Highnesse, and your traine To my poore Cell: where you shall take your rest For this one night, which part of it, Ile waste With such discourse, as I not doubt, shall make it Goe quicke away: The story of my life, And the particular accidents, gon by Since I came to this Isle: And in the morne I'le bring you to your ship, and so to Naples, Where I haue hope to see the nuptiall Of these our deere-belou'd, solemnized, And thence retire me to my Millaine, where Euery third thought shall be my graue

Alo. I long To heare the story of your life; which must Take the eare strangely

Pro. I'le deliuer all, And promise you calme Seas, auspicious gales, And saile, so expeditious, that shall catch Your Royall fleete farre off: My Ariel; chicke That is thy charge: Then to the Elements Be free, and fare thou well: please you draw neere.

Exeunt. omnes.

EPILOGVE, spoken by Prospero.

Now my Charmes are all ore-throwne, And what strength I haue's mine owne. Which is most faint: now 'tis true I must be heere confinde by you, Or sent to Naples, Let me not Since I haue my Dukedome got, And pardon'd the deceiuer, dwell In this bare Island, by your Spell, But release me from my bands With the helpe of your good hands: Gentle breath of yours, my Sailes Must fill, or else my proiect failes, Which was to please: Now I want Spirits to enforce: Art to inchant, And my ending is despaire, Vnlesse I be relieu'd by praier Which pierces so, that it assaults Mercy it selfe, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your Indulgence set me free.

Enter.

The-, an vn-inhabited Island

Names of the Actors.

Alonso, K[ing]. of Naples: Sebastian his Brother. Prospero, the right Duke of Millaine. Anthonio his brother, the vsurping Duke of Millaine. Ferdinand, Son to the King of Naples. Gonzalo, an honest old Councellor. Adrian, & Francisco, Lords. Caliban, a saluage and deformed slaue. Trinculo, a Iester. Stephano, a drunken Butler. Master of a Ship. Boate-Swaine. Marriners. Miranda, daughter to Prospero. Ariell, an ayrie spirit. Iris Ceres Iuno Nymphes Reapers Spirits.

FINIS. THE TEMPEST.

The Two Gentlemen of Verona

Actus primus, Scena prima.

Valentine: Protheus, and Speed.

Valentine. Cease to perswade, my louing Protheus; Home-keeping youth, haue euer homely wits, Wer't not affection chaines thy tender dayes To the sweet glaunces of thy honour'd Loue, I rather would entreat thy company, To see the wonders of the world abroad, Then (liuing dully sluggardiz'd at home) Weare out thy youth with shapelesse idlenesse. But since thou lou'st; loue still, and thriue therein, Euen as I would, when I to loue begin

Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine adew, Thinke on thy Protheus, when thou (hap'ly) seest Some rare note-worthy obiect in thy trauaile. Wish me partaker in thy happinesse, When thou do'st meet good hap; and in thy danger, (If euer danger doe enuiron thee) Commend thy grieuance to my holy prayers, For I will be thy beades-man, Valentine

Val. And on a loue-booke pray for my successe?

Pro. Vpon some booke I loue, I'le pray for thee

Val. That's on some shallow Storie of deepe loue, How yong Leander crost the Hellespont

Pro. That's a deepe Storie, of a deeper loue, For he was more then ouer-shooes in loue

Val. 'Tis true; for you are ouer-bootes in loue, And yet you neuer swom the Hellespont

Pro. Ouer the Bootes? nay giue me not the Boots

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

Pro. What?

Val. To be in loue; where scorne is bought with grones: Coy looks, with hart-sore sighes: one fading moments mirth, With twenty watchfull, weary, tedious nights; If hap'ly won, perhaps a haplesse gaine; If lost, why then a grieuous labour won; How euer: but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit, by folly vanquished

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

Val. So, by your circumstance, I feare you'll proue

Pro. 'Tis Loue you cauill at, I am not Loue

Val. Loue is your master, for he masters you; And he that is so yoked by a foole, Me thinkes should not be chronicled for wise

Pro. Yet Writers say; as in the sweetest Bud, The eating Canker dwels; so eating Loue Inhabits in the finest wits of all

Val. And Writers say; as the most forward Bud Is eaten by the Canker ere it blow, Euen so by Loue, the yong, and tender wit Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the Bud, Loosing his verdure, euen in the prime, And all the faire effects of future hopes. But wherefore waste I time to counsaile thee That art a votary to fond desire? Once more adieu: my Father at the Road Expects my comming, there to see me ship'd

Pro. And thither will I bring thee Valentine

Val. Sweet Protheus, no: Now let vs take our leaue: To Millaine let me heare from thee by Letters Of thy successe in loue; and what newes else Betideth here in absence of thy Friend: And I likewise will visite thee with mine

Pro. All happinesse bechance to thee in Millaine

Val. As much to you at home: and so farewell.

Enter

Pro. He after Honour hunts, I after Loue; He leaues his friends, to dignifie them more; I loue my selfe, my friends, and all for loue: Thou Iulia, thou hast metamorphis'd me: Made me neglect my Studies, loose my time; Warre with good counsaile; set the world at nought; Made Wit with musing, weake; hart sick with thought

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

Pro. But now he parted hence to embarque for Millain

Sp. Twenty to one then, he is ship'd already, And I haue plaid the Sheepe in loosing him

Pro. Indeede a Sheepe doth very often stray, And if the Shepheard be awhile away

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

Pro. I doe

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

Pro. A silly answere, and fitting well a Sheepe

Sp. This proues me still a Sheepe

Pro. True: and thy Master a Shepheard

Sp. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance

Pro. It shall goe hard but ile proue it by another

Sp. The Shepheard seekes the Sheepe, and not the Sheepe the Shepheard; but I seeke my Master, and my Master seekes not me: therefore I am no Sheepe

Pro. The Sheepe for fodder follow the Shepheard, the Shepheard for foode followes not the Sheepe: thou for wages followest thy Master, thy Master for wages followes not thee: therefore thou art a Sheepe

Sp. Such another proofe will make me cry baa

Pro. But do'st thou heare: gau'st thou my Letter to Iulia?

Sp. I Sir: I (a lost-Mutton) gaue your Letter to her (a lac'd-Mutton) and she (a lac'd-Mutton) gaue mee (a lost-Mutton) nothing for my labour

Pro. Here's too small a Pasture for such store of Muttons

Sp. If the ground be ouer-charg'd, you were best sticke her

Pro. Nay, in that you are astray: 'twere best pound you

Sp. Nay Sir, lesse then a pound shall serue me for carrying your Letter

Pro. You mistake; I meane the pound, a Pinfold

Sp. From a pound to a pin? fold it ouer and ouer, 'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your louer

Pro. But what said she?

Sp. I

Pro. Nod-I, why that's noddy

Sp. You mistooke Sir: I say she did nod; And you aske me if she did nod, and I say I

Pro. And that set together is noddy

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

Pro. No, no, you shall haue it for bearing the letter

Sp. Well, I perceiue I must be faine to beare with you

Pro. Why Sir, how doe you beare with me?

Sp. Marry Sir, the letter very orderly, Hauing nothing but the word noddy for my paines

Pro. Beshrew me, but you haue a quicke wit

Sp. And yet it cannot ouer-take your slow purse

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

Sp. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter may be both at once deliuered

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

Sp. Truely Sir, I thinke you'll hardly win her

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

Sp. Sir, I could perceiue nothing at all from her; No, not so much as a ducket for deliuering your letter: And being so hard to me, that brought your minde; I feare she'll proue as hard to you in telling your minde. Giue her no token but stones, for she's as hard as steele

Pro. What said she, nothing?

Sp. No, not so much as take this for thy pains: To testifie your bounty, I thank you, you haue cestern'd me; In requital whereof, henceforth, carry your letters your selfe; And so Sir, I'le commend you to my Master

Pro. Go, go, be gone, to saue your Ship from wrack, Which cannot perish hauing thee aboarde, Being destin'd to a drier death on shore: I must goe send some better Messenger, I feare my Iulia would not daigne my lines, Receiuing them from such a worthlesse post.

Enter.

Scoena Secunda.

Enter Iulia and Lucetta.

Iul. But say Lucetta (now we are alone) Would'st thou then counsaile me to fall in loue?

Luc. I Madam, so you stumble not vnheedfully

Iul. Of all the faire resort of Gentlemen, That euery day with par'le encounter me, In thy opinion which is worthiest loue?

Lu. Please you repeat their names, ile shew my minde, According to my shallow simple skill

Iu. What thinkst thou of the faire sir Eglamoure? Lu. As of a Knight, well-spoken, neat, and fine; But were I you, he neuer should be mine

Iu. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? Lu. Well of his wealth; but of himselfe, so, so

Iu. What think'st thou of the gentle Protheus? Lu. Lord, Lord: to see what folly raignes in vs

Iu. How now? what meanes this passion at his name? Lu. Pardon deare Madam, 'tis a passing shame, That I (vnworthy body as I am) Should censure thus on louely Gentlemen

Iu. Why not on Protheus, as of all the rest? Lu. Then thus: of many good, I thinke him best

Iul. Your reason? Lu. I haue no other but a womans reason: I thinke him so, because I thinke him so

Iul. And would'st thou haue me cast my loue on him? Lu. I: if you thought your loue not cast away

Iul. Why he, of all the rest, hath neuer mou'd me

Lu. Yet he, of all the rest, I thinke best loues ye

Iul. His little speaking, shewes his loue but small

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

Iul. They doe not loue, that doe not shew their loue

Lu. Oh, they loue least, that let men know their loue

Iul. I would I knew his minde

Lu. Peruse this paper Madam

Iul. To Iulia: say, from whom? Lu. That the Contents will shew

Iul. Say, say: who gaue it thee? Lu. Sir Valentines page: & sent I think from Protheus; He would haue giuen it you, but I being in the way, Did in your name receiue it: pardon the fault I pray

Iul. Now (by my modesty) a goodly Broker: Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines? To whisper, and conspire against my youth? Now trust me, 'tis an office of great worth, And you an officer fit for the place: There: take the paper: see it be return'd, Or else returne no more into my sight

Lu. To plead for loue, deserues more fee, then hate

Iul. Will ye be gon? Lu. That you may ruminate.

Enter.

Iul. And yet I would I had ore-look'd the Letter; It were a shame to call her backe againe, And pray her to a fault, for which I chid her. What 'foole is she, that knowes I am a Maid, And would not force the letter to my view? Since Maides, in modesty, say no, to that, Which they would haue the profferer construe, I. Fie, fie: how way-ward is this foolish loue; That (like a testie Babe) will scratch the Nurse, And presently, all humbled kisse the Rod? How churlishly, I chid Lucetta hence, When willingly, I would haue had her here? How angerly I taught my brow to frowne, When inward ioy enforc'd my heart to smile? My pennance is, to call Lucetta backe And aske remission, for my folly past. What hoe: Lucetta

Lu. What would your Ladiship? Iul. Is't neere dinner time? Lu. I would it were, That you might kill your stomacke on your meat, And not vpon your Maid

Iu. What is't that you Tooke vp so gingerly? Lu. Nothing

Iu. Why didst thou stoope then? Lu. To take a paper vp, that I let fall

Iul. And is that paper nothing? Lu. Nothing concerning me

Iul. Then let it lye, for those that it concernes

Lu. Madam, it will not lye where it concernes, Vnlesse it haue a false Interpreter

Iul. Some loue of yours, hath writ to you in Rime

Lu. That I might sing it (Madam) to a tune: Giue me a Note, your Ladiship can set Iul. As little by such toyes, as may be possible: Best sing it to the tune of Light O, Loue

Lu. It is too heauy for so light a tune

Iu. Heauy? belike it hath some burden then? Lu. I: and melodious were it, would you sing it, Iu. And why not you? Lu. I cannot reach so high

Iu. Let's see your Song: How now Minion? Lu. Keepe tune there still; so you will sing it out: And yet me thinkes I do not like this tune

Iu. You doe not? Lu. No (Madam) tis too sharpe

Iu. You (Minion) are too saucie

Lu. Nay, now you are too flat; And marre the concord, with too harsh a descant: There wanteth but a Meane to fill your Song

Iu. The meane is dround with you vnruly base

Lu. Indeede I bid the base for Protheus

Iu. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me; Here is a coile with protestation: Goe, get you gone: and let the papers lye: You would be fingring them, to anger me

Lu. She makes it stra[n]ge, but she would be best pleas'd To be so angred with another Letter

Iu. Nay, would I were so angred with the same: Oh hatefull hands, to teare such louing words; Iniurious Waspes, to feede on such sweet hony, And kill the Bees that yeelde it, with your stings; Ile kisse each seuerall paper, for amends: Looke, here is writ, kinde Iulia: vnkinde Iulia, As in reuenge of thy ingratitude, I throw thy name against the bruzing-stones, Trampling contemptuously on thy disdaine. And here is writ, Loue wounded Protheus. Poore wounded name: my bosome, as a bed, Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd; And thus I search it with a soueraigne kisse. But twice, or thrice, was Protheus written downe: Be calme (good winde) blow not a word away, Till I haue found each letter, in the Letter, Except mine own name: That, some whirle-winde beare Vnto a ragged, fearefull, hanging Rocke, And throw it thence into the raging Sea. Loe, here in one line is his name twice writ: Poore forlorne Protheus, passionate Protheus: To the sweet Iulia: that ile teare away: And yet I will not, sith so prettily He couples it, to his complaining Names; Thus will I fold them, one vpon another; Now kisse, embrace, contend, doe what you will

Lu. Madam: dinner is ready: and your father staies

Iu. Well, let vs goe

Lu. What, shall these papers lye, like Tel-tales here? Iu. If you respect them; best to take them vp

Lu. Nay, I was taken vp, for laying them downe. Yet here they shall not lye, for catching cold

Iu. I see you haue a months minde to them

Lu. I (Madam) you may say what sights you see; I see things too, although you iudge I winke

Iu. Come, come, wilt please you goe.

Exeunt.

Scoena Tertia.

Enter Antonio and Panthino. Protheus.

Ant. Tell me Panthino, what sad talke was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the Cloyster? Pan. 'Twas of his Nephew Protheus, your Sonne

Ant. Why? what of him? Pan. He wondred that your Lordship Would suffer him, to spend his youth at home, While other men, of slender reputation Put forth their Sonnes, to seeke preferment out. Some to the warres, to try their fortune there; Some, to discouer Islands farre away: Some, to the studious Vniuersities; For any, or for all these exercises, He said, that Protheus, your sonne, was meet; And did request me, to importune you To let him spend his time no more at home; Which would be great impeachment to his age, In hauing knowne no trauaile in his youth

Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that Whereon, this month I haue bin hamering. I haue consider'd well, his losse of time, And how he cannot be a perfect man, Not being tryed, and tutord in the world: Experience is by industry atchieu'd, And perfected by the swift course of time: Then tell me, whether were I best to send him? Pan. I thinke your Lordship is not ignorant How his companion, youthfull Valentine, Attends the Emperour in his royall Court

Ant. I know it well

Pan. 'Twere good, I thinke, your Lordship sent him (thither, There shall he practise Tilts, and Turnaments; Heare sweet discourse, conuerse with Noble-men, And be in eye of euery Exercise Worthy his youth, and noblenesse of birth

Ant. I like thy counsaile: well hast thou aduis'd: And that thou maist perceiue how well I like it, The execution of it shall make knowne; Euen with the speediest expedition, I will dispatch him to the Emperors Court

Pan. To morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso, With other Gentlemen of good esteeme Are iournying, to salute the Emperor, And to commend their seruice to his will

Ant. Good company: with them shall Protheus go: And in good time: now will we breake with him

Pro. Sweet Loue, sweet lines, sweet life, Here is her hand, the agent of her heart; Here is her oath for loue, her honors paune; O that our Fathers would applaud our loues To seale our happinesse with their consents

Pro. Oh heauenly Iulia

Ant. How now? What Letter are you reading there? Pro. May't please your Lordship, 'tis a word or two Of commendations sent from Valentine; Deliuer'd by a friend, that came from him

Ant. Lend me the Letter: Let me see what newes

Pro. There is no newes (my Lord) but that he writes How happily he liues, how well-belou'd, And daily graced by the Emperor; Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune

Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish? Pro. As one relying on your Lordships will, And not depending on his friendly wish

Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish: Muse not that I thus sodainly proceed; For what I will, I will, and there an end: I am resolu'd, that thou shalt spend some time With Valentinus, in the Emperors Court: What maintenance he from his friends receiues, Like exhibition thou shalt haue from me, To morrow be in readinesse, to goe, Excuse it not: for I am peremptory

Pro. My Lord I cannot be so soone prouided, Please you deliberate a day or two

Ant. Look what thou want'st shalbe sent after thee: No more of stay: to morrow thou must goe; Come on Panthino; you shall be imployd, To hasten on his Expedition

Pro. Thus haue I shund the fire, for feare of burning, And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd. I fear'd to shew my Father Iulias Letter, Least he should take exceptions to my loue, And with the vantage of mine owne excuse Hath he excepted most against my loue. Oh, how this spring of loue resembleth The vncertaine glory of an Aprill day, Which now shewes all the beauty of the Sun, And by and by a clowd takes all away

Pan. Sir Protheus, your Fathers call's for you, He is in hast, therefore I pray you go

Pro. Why this it is: my heart accords thereto, And yet a thousand times it answer's no.

Exeunt. Finis.

Actus secundus: Scoena Prima.

Enter Valentine, Speed, Siluia

Speed. Sir, your Gloue

Valen. Not mine: my Gloues are on

Sp. Why then this may be yours: for this is but one

Val. Ha? Let me see: I, giue it me, it's mine: Sweet Ornament, that deckes a thing diuine, Ah Siluia, Siluia

Speed. Madam Siluia: Madam Siluia

Val. How now Sirha? Speed. Shee is not within hearing Sir

Val. Why sir, who bad you call her? Speed. Your worship sir, or else I mistooke

Val. Well: you'll still be too forward

Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow

Val. Goe to, sir, tell me: do you know Madam Siluia? Speed. Shee that your worship loues? Val. Why, how know you that I am in loue? Speed. Marry by these speciall markes: first, you haue learn'd (like Sir Protheus) to wreath your Armes like a Male-content: to rellish a Loue-song, like a Robin-redbreast: to walke alone like one that had the pestilence: to sigh, like a Schoole-boy that had lost his A.B.C. to weep like a yong wench that had buried her Grandam: to fast, like one that takes diet: to watch, like one that feares robbing: to speake puling, like a beggar at Hallow-Masse: You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cocke; when you walk'd, to walke like one of the Lions: when you fasted, it was presently after dinner: when you look'd sadly, it was for want of money: And now you are Metamorphis'd with a Mistris, that when I looke on you, I can hardly thinke you my Master

Val. Are all these things perceiu'd in me? Speed. They are all perceiu'd without ye

Val. Without me? they cannot

Speed. Without you? nay, that's certaine: for without you were so simple, none else would: but you are so without these follies, that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the water in an Vrinall: that not an eye that sees you, but is a Physician to comment on your Malady

Val. But tell me: do'st thou know my Lady Siluia? Speed. Shee that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper? Val. Hast thou obseru'd that? euen she I meane

Speed. Why sir, I know her not

Val. Do'st thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'st her not? Speed. Is she not hard-fauour'd, sir? Val. Not so faire (boy) as well fauour'd

Speed. Sir, I know that well enough

Val. What dost thou know? Speed. That shee is not so faire, as (of you) well-fauourd? Val. I meane that her beauty is exquisite, But her fauour infinite

Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the other out of all count

Val. How painted? and how out of count? Speed. Marry sir, so painted to make her faire, that no man counts of her beauty

Val. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty

Speed. You neuer saw her since she was deform'd

Val. How long hath she beene deform'd? Speed. Euer since you lou'd her

Val. I haue lou'd her euer since I saw her, And still I see her beautifull

Speed. If you loue her, you cannot see her

Val. Why? Speed. Because Loue is blinde: O that you had mine eyes, or your owne eyes had the lights they were wont to haue, when you chidde at Sir Protheus, for going vngarter'd

Val. What should I see then? Speed. Your owne present folly, and her passing deformitie: for hee beeing in loue, could not see to garter his hose; and you, beeing in loue, cannot see to put on your hose

Val. Belike (boy) then you are in loue, for last morning You could not see to wipe my shooes

Speed. True sir: I was in loue with my bed, I thanke you, you swing'd me for my loue, which makes mee the bolder to chide you, for yours

Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her

Speed. I would you were set, so your affection would cease

Val. Last night she enioyn'd me, To write some lines to one she loues

Speed. And haue you? Val. I haue

Speed. Are they not lamely writt? Val. No (Boy) but as well as I can do them: Peace, here she comes

Speed. Oh excellent motion; oh exceeding Puppet: Now will he interpret to her

Val. Madam & Mistres, a thousand good-morrows

Speed. Oh, 'giue ye-good-ev'n: heer's a million of manners

Sil. Sir Valentine, and seruant, to you two thousand

Speed. He should giue her interest: & she giues it him

Val. As you inioynd me; I haue writ your Letter Vnto the secret, nameles friend of yours: Which I was much vnwilling to proceed in, But for my duty to your Ladiship

Sil. I thanke you (gentle Seruant) 'tis very Clerklydone

Val. Now trust me (Madam) it came hardly-off: For being ignorant to whom it goes, I writ at randome, very doubtfully

Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much pains? Val. No (Madam) so it steed you, I will write (Please you command) a thousand times as much: And yet - Sil. A pretty period: well: I ghesse the sequell; And yet I will not name it: and yet I care not. And yet, take this againe: and yet I thanke you: Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more

Speed. And yet you will: and yet, another yet

Val. What meanes your Ladiship? Doe you not like it? Sil. Yes, yes: the lines are very queintly writ, But (since vnwillingly) take them againe. Nay, take them

Val. Madam, they are for you

Silu. I, I: you writ them Sir, at my request, But I will none of them: they are for you: I would haue had them writ more mouingly: Val. Please you, Ile write your Ladiship another

Sil. And when it's writ: for my sake read it ouer, And if it please you, so: if not: why so: Val. If it please me, (Madam?) what then? Sil. Why if it please you, take it for your labour; And so good-morrow Seruant.

Exit. Sil.

Speed. Oh Iest vnseene: inscrutible: inuisible, As a nose on a mans face, or a Wethercocke on a steeple: My Master sues to her: and she hath taught her Sutor, He being her Pupill, to become her Tutor. Oh excellent deuise, was there euer heard a better? That my master being scribe, To himselfe should write the Letter? Val. How now Sir? What are you reasoning with your selfe? Speed. Nay: I was riming: 'tis you y haue the reason

Val. To doe what? Speed. To be a Spokes-man from Madam Siluia

Val. To whom? Speed. To your selfe: why, she woes you by a figure

Val. What figure? Speed. By a Letter, I should say

Val. Why she hath not writ to me? Speed. What need she, When shee hath made you write to your selfe? Why, doe you not perceiue the iest? Val. No, beleeue me

Speed. No beleeuing you indeed sir: But did you perceiue her earnest? Val. She gaue me none, except an angry word

Speed. Why she hath giuen you a Letter

Val. That's the Letter I writ to her friend

Speed. And y letter hath she deliuer'd, & there an end

Val. I would it were no worse

Speed. Ile warrant you, 'tis as well: For often haue you writ to her: and she in modesty, Or else for want of idle time, could not againe reply, Or fearing els some messe[n]ger, y might her mind discouer Her self hath taught her Loue himself, to write vnto her louer. All this I speak in print, for in print I found it. Why muse you sir, 'tis dinner time

Val. I haue dyn'd

Speed. I, but hearken sir: though the Cameleon Loue can feed on the ayre, I am one that am nourish'd by my victuals; and would faine haue meate: oh bee not like your Mistresse, be moued, be moued.

Exeunt.

Scoena secunda.

Enter Protheus, Iulia, Panthion.

Pro. Haue patience, gentle Iulia: Iul. I must where is no remedy

Pro. When possibly I can, I will returne

Iul. If you turne not: you will return the sooner: Keepe this remembrance for thy Iulia's sake

Pro. Why then wee'll make exchange; Here, take you this

Iul. And seale the bargaine with a holy kisse

Pro. Here is my hand, for my true constancie: And when that howre ore-slips me in the day, Wherein I sigh not (Iulia) for thy sake, The next ensuing howre, some foule mischance Torment me for my Loues forgetfulnesse: My father staies my comming: answere not: The tide is now; nay, not thy tide of teares, That tide will stay me longer then I should, Iulia, farewell: what, gon without a word? I, so true loue should doe: it cannot speake, For truth hath better deeds, then words to grace it

Panth. Sir Protheus: you are staid for

Pro. Goe: I come, I come: Alas, this parting strikes poore Louers dumbe.

Exeunt.

Scoena Tertia.

Enter Launce, Panthion.

Launce. Nay, 'twill bee this howre ere I haue done weeping: all the kinde of the Launces, haue this very fault: I haue receiu'd my proportion, like the prodigious Sonne, and am going with Sir Protheus to the Imperialls Court: I thinke Crab my dog, be the sowrest natured dogge that liues: My Mother weeping: my Father wayling: my Sister crying: our Maid howling: our Catte wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexitie, yet did not this cruell-hearted Curre shedde one teare: he is a stone, a very pibble stone, and has no more pitty in him then a dogge: a Iew would haue wept to haue seene our parting: why my Grandam hauing no eyes, looke you, wept her selfe blinde at my parting: nay, Ile shew you the manner of it. This shooe is my father: no, this left shooe is my father; no, no, this left shooe is my mother: nay, that cannot bee so neyther: yes; it is so, it is so: it hath the worser sole: this shooe with the hole in it, is my mother: and this my father: a veng'ance on't, there 'tis: Now sir, this staffe is my sister: for, looke you, she is as white as a lilly, and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan our maid: I am the dogge: no, the dogge is himselfe, and I am the dogge: oh, the dogge is me, and I am my selfe: I; so, so: now come I to my Father; Father, your blessing: now should not the shooe speake a word for weeping: now should I kisse my Father; well, hee weepes on: Now come I to my Mother: Oh that she could speake now, like a would-woman: well, I kisse her: why there 'tis; heere's my mothers breath vp and downe: Now come I to my sister; marke the moane she makes: now the dogge all this while sheds not a teare: nor speakes a word: but see how I lay the dust with my teares

Panth. Launce, away, away: a Boord: thy Master is ship'd, and thou art to post after with oares; what's the matter? why weep'st thou man? away asse, you'l loose the Tide, if you tarry any longer

Laun. It is no matter if the tide were lost, for it is the vnkindest Tide, that euer any man tide

Panth. What's the vnkindest tide? Lau. Why, he that's tide here, Crab my dog

Pant. Tut, man: I meane thou'lt loose the flood, and in loosing the flood, loose thy voyage, and in loosing thy voyage, loose thy Master, and in loosing thy Master, loose thy seruice, and in loosing thy seruice: - why dost thou stop my mouth? Laun. For feare thou shouldst loose thy tongue

Panth. Where should I loose my tongue? Laun. In thy Tale

Panth. In thy Taile

Laun. Loose the Tide, and the voyage, and the Master, and the Seruice, and the tide: why man, if the Riuer were drie, I am able to fill it with my teares: if the winde were downe, I could driue the boate with my sighes

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

Lau. Sir: call me what thou dar'st

Pant. Wilt thou goe? Laun. Well, I will goe.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Valentine, Siluia, Thurio, Speed, Duke, Protheus.

Sil. Seruant

Val. Mistris

Spee. Master, Sir Thurio frownes on you

Val. I Boy, it's for loue

Spee. Not of you

Val. Of my Mistresse then

Spee. 'Twere good you knockt him

Sil. Seruant, you are sad

Val. Indeed, Madam, I seeme so

Thu. Seeme you that you are not? Val. Hap'ly I doe

Thu. So doe Counterfeyts

Val. So doe you

Thu. What seeme I that I am not? Val. Wise

Thu. What instance of the contrary? Val. Your folly

Thu. And how quoat you my folly? Val. I quoat it in your Ierkin

Thu. My Ierkin is a doublet

Val. Well then, Ile double your folly

Thu. How? Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio, do you change colour? Val. Giue him leaue, Madam, he is a kind of Camelion

Thu. That hath more minde to feed on your bloud, then liue in your ayre

Val. You haue said Sir

Thu. I Sir, and done too for this time

Val. I know it wel sir, you alwaies end ere you begin

Sil. A fine volly of words, gentleme[n], & quickly shot off Val. 'Tis indeed, Madam, we thank the giuer

Sil. Who is that Seruant? Val. Your selfe (sweet Lady) for you gaue the fire, Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your Ladiships lookes, And spends what he borrowes kindly in your company

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

Val. I know it well sir: you haue an Exchequer of words, And I thinke, no other treasure to giue your followers: For it appeares by their bare Liueries That they liue by your bare words

Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more: Here comes my father

Duk. Now, daughter Siluia, you are hard beset. Sir Valentine, your father is in good health, What say you to a Letter from your friends Of much good newes? Val. My Lord, I will be thankfull, To any happy messenger from thence

Duk. Know ye Don Antonio, your Countriman? Val. I, my good Lord, I know the Gentleman To be of worth, and worthy estimation, And not without desert so well reputed

Duk. Hath he not a Sonne? Val. I, my good Lord, a Son, that well deserues The honor, and regard of such a father

Duk. You know him well? Val. I knew him as my selfe: for from our Infancie We haue conuerst, and spent our howres together, And though my selfe haue beene an idle Trewant, Omitting the sweet benefit of time To cloath mine age with Angel-like perfection: Yet hath Sir Protheus (for that's his name) Made vse, and faire aduantage of his daies: His yeares but yong, but his experience old: His head vn-mellowed, but his Iudgement ripe; And in a word (for far behinde his worth Comes all the praises that I now bestow.) He is compleat in feature, and in minde, With all good grace, to grace a Gentleman

Duk. Beshrew me sir, but if he make this good He is as worthy for an Empresse loue, As meet to be an Emperors Councellor: Well, Sir: this Gentleman is come to me With Commendation from great Potentates, And heere he meanes to spend his time a while, I thinke 'tis no vn-welcome newes to you

Val. Should I haue wish'd a thing, it had beene he

Duk. Welcome him then according to his worth: Siluia, I speake to you, and you Sir Thurio, For Valentine, I need not cite him to it, I will send him hither to you presently

Val. This is the Gentleman I told your Ladiship Had come along with me, but that his Mistresse Did hold his eyes, lockt in her Christall lookes

Sil. Be-like that now she hath enfranchis'd them Vpon some other pawne for fealty

Val. Nay sure, I thinke she holds them prisoners stil

Sil. Nay then he should be blind, and being blind How could he see his way to seeke out you? Val. Why Lady, Loue hath twenty paire of eyes

Thur. They say that Loue hath not an eye at all

Val. To see such Louers, Thurio, as your selfe, Vpon a homely obiect, Loue can winke

Sil. Haue done, haue done: here comes y gentleman

Val. Welcome, deer Protheus: Mistris, I beseech you Confirme his welcome, with some speciall fauor

Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hether, If this be he you oft haue wish'd to heare from

Val. Mistris, it is: sweet Lady, entertaine him To be my fellow-seruant to your Ladiship

Sil. Too low a Mistres for so high a seruant

Pro. Not so, sweet Lady, but too meane a seruant To haue a looke of such a worthy a Mistresse

Val. Leaue off discourse of disabilitie: Sweet Lady, entertaine him for your Seruant

Pro. My dutie will I boast of, nothing else

Sil. And dutie neuer yet did want his meed. Seruant, you are welcome to a worthlesse Mistresse

Pro. Ile die on him that saies so but your selfe

Sil. That you are welcome? Pro. That you are worthlesse

Thur. Madam, my Lord your father wold speak with you

Sil. I wait vpon his pleasure: Come Sir Thurio, Goe with me: once more, new Seruant welcome; Ile leaue you to confer of home affaires, When you haue done, we looke too heare from you

Pro. Wee'll both attend vpon your Ladiship

Val. Now tell me: how do al from whence you came? Pro. Your frends are wel, & haue the[m] much co[m]mended

Val. And how doe yours? Pro. I left them all in health

Val. How does your Lady? & how thriues your loue? Pro. My tales of Loue were wont to weary you, I know you ioy not in a Loue-discourse

Val. I Protheus, but that life is alter'd now, I haue done pennance for contemning Loue, Whose high emperious thoughts haue punish'd me With bitter fasts, with penitentiall grones, With nightly teares, and daily hart-sore sighes, For in reuenge of my contempt of loue, Loue hath chas'd sleepe from my enthralled eyes, And made them watchers of mine owne hearts sorrow. O gentle Protheus, Loue's a mighty Lord, And hath so humbled me, as I confesse There is no woe to his correction, Nor to his Seruice, no such ioy on earth: Now, no discourse, except it be of loue: Now can I breake my fast, dine, sup, and sleepe, Vpon the very naked name of Loue

Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye: Was this the Idoll, that you worship so? Val. Euen She; and is she not a heauenly Saint? Pro. No; But she is an earthly Paragon

Val. Call her diuine

Pro. I will not flatter her

Val. O flatter me: for Loue delights in praises

Pro. When I was sick, you gaue me bitter pils, And I must minister the like to you

Val. Then speake the truth by her; if not diuine, Yet let her be a principalitie, Soueraigne to all the Creatures on the earth

Pro. Except my Mistresse

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

Pro. Haue I not reason to prefer mine owne? Val. And I will help thee to prefer her to: Shee shall be dignified with this high honour, To beare my Ladies traine, lest the base earth Should from her vesture chance to steale a kisse, And of so great a fauor growing proud, Disdaine to roote the Sommer-swelling flowre, And make rough winter euerlastingly

Pro. Why Valentine, what Bragadisme is this? Val. Pardon me (Protheus) all I can is nothing, To her, whose worth, make other worthies nothing; Shee is alone

Pro. Then let her alone

Val. Not for the world: why man, she is mine owne, And I as rich in hauing such a Iewell As twenty Seas, if all their sand were pearle, The water, Nectar, and the Rocks pure gold. Forgiue me, that I doe not dreame on thee, Because thou seest me doate vpon my loue: My foolish Riuall that her Father likes (Onely for his possessions are so huge) Is gone with her along, and I must after, For Loue (thou know'st is full of iealousie.) Pro. But she loues you? Val. I, and we are betroathd: nay more, our mariage howre, With all the cunning manner of our flight Determin'd of: how I must climbe her window, The Ladder made of Cords, and all the means Plotted, and 'greed on for my happinesse. Good Protheus goe with me to my chamber, In these affaires to aid me with thy counsaile

Pro. Goe on before: I shall enquire you forth: I must vnto the Road, to dis-embarque Some necessaries, that I needs must vse, And then Ile presently attend you

Val. Will you make haste?

Enter.

Pro. I will. Euen as one heate, another heate expels, Or as one naile, by strength driues out another. So the remembrance of my former Loue Is by a newer obiect quite forgotten, It is mine, or Valentines praise? Her true perfection, or my false transgression? That makes me reasonlesse, to reason thus? Shee is faire: and so is Iulia that I loue, (That I did loue, for now my loue is thaw'd, Which like a waxen Image 'gainst a fire Beares no impression of the thing it was.) Me thinkes my zeale to Valentine is cold, And that I loue him not as I was wont: O, but I loue his Lady too-too much, And that's the reason I loue him so little. How shall I doate on her with more aduice, That thus without aduice begin to loue her? 'Tis but her picture I haue yet beheld, And that hath dazel'd my reasons light: But when I looke on her perfections, There is no reason, but I shall be blinde. If I can checke my erring loue, I will, If not, to compasse her Ile vse my skill.

Exeunt.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Speed and Launce.

Speed. Launce, by mine honesty welcome to Padua

Laun. Forsweare not thy selfe, sweet youth, for I am not welcome. I reckon this alwaies, that a man is neuer vndon till hee be hang'd, nor neuer welcome to a place, till some certaine shot be paid, and the Hostesse say welcome

Speed. Come-on you mad-cap: Ile to the Ale-house with you presently; where, for one shot of fiue pence, thou shalt haue fiue thousand welcomes: But sirha, how did thy Master part with Madam Iulia? Lau. Marry after they cloas'd in earnest, they parted very fairely in iest

Spee. But shall she marry him? Lau. No

Spee. How then? shall he marry her? Lau. No, neither

Spee. What, are they broken? Lau. No; they are both as whole as a fish

Spee. Why then, how stands the matter with them? Lau. Marry thus, when it stands well with him, it stands well with her

Spee. What an asse art thou, I vnderstand thee not

Lau. What a blocke art thou, that thou canst not? My staffe vnderstands me? Spee. What thou saist? Lau. I, and what I do too: looke thee, Ile but leane, and my staffe vnderstands me

Spee. It stands vnder thee indeed

Lau. Why, stand-vnder: and vnder-stand is all one

Spee. But tell me true, wil't be a match? Lau. Aske my dogge, if he say I, it will: if hee say no, it will: if hee shake his taile, and say nothing, it will

Spee. The conclusion is then, that it will

Lau. Thou shalt neuer get such a secret from me, but by a parable

Spee. 'Tis well that I get it so: but Launce, how saist thou that that my master is become a notable Louer? Lau. I neuer knew him otherwise

Spee. Then how? Lau. A notable Lubber: as thou reportest him to bee

Spee. Why, thou whorson Asse, thou mistak'st me, Lau. Why Foole, I meant not thee, I meant thy Master

Spee. I tell thee, my Master is become a hot Louer

Lau. Why, I tell thee, I care not, though hee burne himselfe in Loue. If thou wilt goe with me to the Alehouse: if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Iew, and not worth the name of a Christian

Spee. Why? Lau. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee as to goe to the Ale with a Christian: Wilt thou goe? Spee. At thy seruice.

Exeunt.

Scoena Sexta.

Enter Protheus solus.

Pro. To leaue my Iulia; shall I be forsworne? To loue faire Siluia; shall I be forsworne? To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworne. And ev'n that Powre which gaue me first my oath Prouokes me to this three-fold periurie. Loue bad mee sweare, and Loue bids me for-sweare; O sweet-suggesting Loue, if thou hast sin'd, Teach me (thy tempted subiect) to excuse it. At first I did adore a twinkling Starre, But now I worship a celestiall Sunne: Vn-heedfull vowes may heedfully be broken, And he wants wit, that wants resolued will, To learne his wit, t' exchange the bad for better; Fie, fie, vnreuerend tongue, to call her bad, Whose soueraignty so oft thou hast preferd, With twenty thousand soule-confirming oathes. I cannot leaue to loue; and yet I doe: But there I leaue to loue, where I should loue. Iulia I loose, and Valentine I loose, If I keepe them, I needs must loose my selfe: If I loose them, thus finde I by their losse, For Valentine, my selfe: for Iulia, Siluia. I to my selfe am deerer then a friend, For Loue is still most precious in it selfe, And Siluia (witnesse heauen that made her faire) Shewes Iulia but a swarthy Ethiope. I will forget that Iulia is aliue, Remembring that my Loue to her is dead. And Valentine Ile hold an Enemie, Ayming at Siluia as a sweeter friend. I cannot now proue constant to my selfe, Without some treachery vs'd to Valentine. This night he meaneth with a Corded-ladder To climbe celestiall Siluia's chamber window, My selfe in counsaile his competitor. Now presently Ile giue her father notice Of their disguising and pretended flight: Who (all inrag'd) will banish Valentine: For Thurio he intends shall wed his daughter, But Valentine being gon, Ile quickely crosse By some slie tricke, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding. Loue lend me wings, to make my purpose swift As thou hast lent me wit, to plot this drift.

Enter.

Scoena septima.

Enter Iulia and Lucetta.

Iul. Counsaile, Lucetta, gentle girle assist me, And eu'n in kinde loue, I doe coniure thee, Who art the Table wherein all my thoughts Are visibly Character'd, and engrau'd, To lesson me, and tell me some good meane How with my honour I may vndertake A iourney to my louing Protheus

Luc. Alas, the way is wearisome and long

Iul. A true-deuoted Pilgrime is not weary To measure Kingdomes with his feeble steps, Much lesse shall she that hath Loues wings to flie, And when the flight is made to one so deere, Of such diuine perfection as Sir Protheus

Luc. Better forbeare, till Protheus make returne

Iul. Oh, know'st y not, his looks are my soules food? Pitty the dearth that I haue pined in, By longing for that food so long a time. Didst thou but know the inly touch of Loue, Thou wouldst as soone goe kindle fire with snow As seeke to quench the fire of Loue with words

Luc. I doe not seeke to quench your Loues hot fire, But qualifie the fires extreame rage, Lest it should burne aboue the bounds of reason

Iul. The more thou dam'st it vp, the more it burnes: The Current that with gentle murmure glides (Thou know'st) being stop'd, impatiently doth rage: But when his faire course is not hindered, He makes sweet musicke with th' enameld stones, Giuing a gentle kisse to euery sedge He ouer-taketh in his pilgrimage. And so by many winding nookes he straies With willing sport to the wilde Ocean. Then let me goe, and hinder not my course: Ile be as patient as a gentle streame, And make a pastime of each weary step, Till the last step haue brought me to my Loue, And there Ile rest, as after much turmoile A blessed soule doth in Elizium

Luc. But in what habit will you goe along? Iul. Not like a woman, for I would preuent The loose encounters of lasciuious men: Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weedes As may beseeme some well reputed Page

Luc. Why then your Ladiship must cut your haire

Iul. No girle, Ile knit it vp in silken strings, With twentie od-conceited true-loue knots: To be fantastique, may become a youth Of greater time then I shall shew to be

Luc. What fashion (Madam) shall I make your breeches? Iul. That fits as well, as tell me (good my Lord) What compasse will you weare your Farthingale? Why eu'n what fashion thou best likes (Lucetta.) Luc. You must needs haue the[m] with a cod-peece Ma[dam] Iul. Out, out, (Lucetta) that wilbe illfauourd

Luc. A round hose (Madam) now's not worth a pin Vnlesse you haue a cod-peece to stick pins on

Iul. Lucetta, as thou lou'st me let me haue What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly. But tell me (wench) how will the world repute me For vndertaking so vnstaid a iourney? I feare me it will make me scandaliz'd

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

Iul. Nay, that I will not

Luc. Then neuer dreame on Infamy, but go: If Protheus like your iourney, when you come, No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone: I feare me he will scarce be pleas'd with all

Iul. That is the least (Lucetta) of my feare: A thousand oathes, an Ocean of his teares, And instances of infinite of Loue, Warrant me welcome to my Protheus

Luc. All these are seruants to deceitfull men

Iul. Base men, that vse them to so base effect; But truer starres did gouerne Protheus birth, His words are bonds, his oathes are oracles, His loue sincere, his thoughts immaculate, His teares, pure messengers, sent from his heart, His heart, as far from fraud, as heauen from earth

Luc. Pray heau'n he proue so when you come to him

Iul. Now, as thou lou'st me, do him not that wrong, To beare a hard opinion of his truth: Onely deserue my loue, by louing him, And presently goe with me to my chamber To take a note of what I stand in need of, To furnish me vpon my longing iourney: All that is mine I leaue at thy dispose, My goods, my Lands, my reputation, Onely, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence: Come; answere not: but to it presently, I am impatient of my tarriance.

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius, Scena Prima.

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

Duke. Sir Thurio, giue vs leaue (I pray) a while, We haue some secrets to confer about. Now tell me Protheus, what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious Lord, that which I wold discouer, The Law of friendship bids me to conceale, But when I call to minde your gracious fauours Done to me (vndeseruing as I am) My dutie pricks me on to vtter that Which else, no worldly good should draw from me: Know (worthy Prince) Sir Valentine my friend This night intends to steale away your daughter: My selfe am one made priuy to the plot. I know you haue determin'd to bestow her On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates, And should she thus be stolne away from you, It would be much vexation to your age. Thus (for my duties sake) I rather chose To crosse my friend in his intended drift, Then (by concealing it) heap on your head A pack of sorrowes, which would presse you downe (Being vnpreuented) to your timelesse graue

Duke. Protheus, I thank thee for thine honest care, Which to requite, command me while I liue. This loue of theirs, my selfe haue often seene, Haply when they haue iudg'd me fast asleepe, And oftentimes haue purpos'd to forbid Sir Valentine her companie, and my Court. But fearing lest my iealous ayme might erre, And so (vnworthily) disgrace the man (A rashnesse that I euer yet haue shun'd) I gaue him gentle lookes, thereby to finde That which thy selfe hast now disclos'd to me. And that thou maist perceiue my feare of this, Knowing that tender youth is soone suggested, I nightly lodge her in an vpper Towre, The key whereof, my selfe haue euer kept: And thence she cannot be conuay'd away

Pro. Know (noble Lord) they haue deuis'd a meane How he her chamber-window will ascend, And with a Corded-ladder fetch her downe: For which, the youthfull Louer now is gone, And this way comes he with it presently. Where (if it please you) you may intercept him. But (good my Lord) doe it so cunningly That my discouery be not aimed at: For, loue of you, not hate vnto my friend, Hath made me publisher of this pretence

Duke. Vpon mine Honor, he shall neuer know That I had any light from thee of this

Pro. Adiew, my Lord, Sir Valentine is comming

Duk. Sir Valentine, whether away so fast? Val. Please it your Grace, there is a Messenger That stayes to beare my Letters to my friends, And I am going to deliuer them

Duk. Be they of much import? Val. The tenure of them doth but signifie My health, and happy being at your Court

Duk. Nay then no matter: stay with me a while, I am to breake with thee of some affaires That touch me neere: wherein thou must be secret. 'Tis not vnknown to thee, that I haue sought To match my friend Sir Thurio, to my daughter

Val. I know it well (my Lord) and sure the Match Were rich and honourable: besides, the gentleman Is full of Vertue, Bounty, Worth, and Qualities Beseeming such a Wife, as your faire daughter: Cannot your Grace win her to fancie him? Duk. No, trust me, She is peeuish, sullen, froward, Prowd, disobedient, stubborne, lacking duty, Neither regarding that she is my childe, Nor fearing me, as if I were her father: And may I say to thee, this pride of hers (Vpon aduice) hath drawne my loue from her, And where I thought the remnant of mine age Should haue beene cherish'd by her child-like dutie, I now am full resolu'd to take a wife, And turne her out, to who will take her in: Then let her beauty be her wedding dowre: For me, and my possessions she esteemes not

Val. What would your Grace haue me to do in this? Duk. There is a Lady in Verona heere Whom I affect: but she is nice, and coy, And naught esteemes my aged eloquence. Now therefore would I haue thee to my Tutor (For long agone I haue forgot to court, Besides the fashion of the time is chang'd) How, and which way I may bestow my selfe To be regarded in her sun-bright eye

Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words, Dumbe Iewels often in their silent kinde More then quicke words, doe moue a womans minde

Duk. But she did scorne a present that I sent her, Val. A woman somtime scorns what best co[n]tents her. Send her another: neuer giue her ore, For scorne at first, makes after-loue the more. If she doe frowne, 'tis not in hate of you, But rather to beget more loue in you. If she doe chide, 'tis not to haue you gone, For why, the fooles are mad, if left alone. Take no repulse, what euer she doth say, For, get you gon, she doth not meane away. Flatter, and praise, commend, extoll their graces: Though nere so blacke, say they haue Angells faces, That man that hath a tongue, I say is no man, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman

Duk. But she I meane, is promis'd by her friends Vnto a youthfull Gentleman of worth, And kept seuerely from resort of men, That no man hath accesse by day to her

Val. Why then I would resort to her by night

Duk. I, but the doores be lockt, and keyes kept safe, That no man hath recourse to her by night

Val. What letts but one may enter at her window? Duk. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground, And built so sheluing, that one cannot climbe it Without apparant hazard of his life

Val. Why then a Ladder quaintly made of Cords To cast vp, with a paire of anchoring hookes, Would serue to scale another Hero's towre, So bold Leander would aduenture it

Duk. Now as thou art a Gentleman of blood Aduise me, where I may haue such a Ladder

Val. When would you vse it? pray sir, tell me that

Duk. This very night; for Loue is like a childe That longs for euery thing that he can come by

Val. By seauen a clock, ile get you such a Ladder

Duk But harke thee: I will goe to her alone, How shall I best conuey the Ladder thither? Val. It will be light (my Lord) that you may beare it Vnder a cloake, that is of any length

Duk. A cloake as long as thine will serue the turne? Val. I my good Lord

Duk. Then let me see thy cloake, Ile get me one of such another length

Val. Why any cloake will serue the turn (my Lord) Duk. How shall I fashion me to weare a cloake? I pray thee let me feele thy cloake vpon me. What Letter is this same? what's here? to Siluia? And heere an Engine fit for my proceeding, Ile be so bold to breake the seale for once. My thoughts do harbour with my Siluia nightly, And slaues they are to me, that send them flying. Oh, could their Master come, and goe as lightly, Himselfe would lodge where (senceles) they are lying. My Herald Thoughts, in thy pure bosome rest-them, While I (their King) that thither them importune Doe curse the grace, that with such grace hath blest them, Because my selfe doe want my seruants fortune. I curse my selfe, for they are sent by me, That they should harbour where their Lord should be. What's here? Siluia, this night I will enfranchise thee. 'Tis so: and heere's the Ladder for the purpose. Why Phaeton (for thou art Merops sonne) Wilt thou aspire to guide the heauenly Car? And with thy daring folly burne the world? Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee? Goe base Intruder, ouer-weening Slaue, Bestow thy fawning smiles on equall mates, And thinke my patience, (more then thy desert) Is priuiledge for thy departure hence. Thanke me for this, more then for all the fauors Which (all too-much) I haue bestowed on thee. But if thou linger in my Territories Longer then swiftest expedition Will giue thee time to leaue our royall Court, By heauen, my wrath shall farre exceed the loue I euer bore my daughter, or thy selfe. Be gone, I will not heare thy vaine excuse, But as thou lou'st thy life, make speed from hence

Val. And why not death, rather then liuing torment? To die, is to be banisht from my selfe, And Siluia is my selfe: banish'd from her Is selfe from selfe. A deadly banishment: What light, is light, if Siluia be not seene? What ioy is ioy, if Siluia be not by? Vnlesse it be to thinke that she is by And feed vpon the shadow of perfection. Except I be by Siluia in the night, There is no musicke in the Nightingale. Vnlesse I looke on Siluia in the day, There is no day for me to looke vpon. Shee is my essence, and I leaue to be; If I be not by her faire influence Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept aliue. I flie not death, to flie his deadly doome, Tarry I heere, I but attend on death, But flie I hence, I flie away from life

Pro. Run (boy) run, run, and seeke him out

Lau. So-hough, Soa hough- Pro. What seest thou? Lau. Him we goe to finde, There's not a haire on's head, but 'tis a Valentine

Pro. Valentine? Val. No

Pro. Who then? his Spirit? Val. Neither, Pro. What then? Val. Nothing

Lau. Can nothing speake? Master, shall I strike? Pro. Who wouldst thou strike? Lau. Nothing

Pro. Villaine, forbeare

Lau. Why Sir, Ile strike nothing: I pray you

Pro. Sirha, I say forbeare: friend Valentine, a word

Val. My eares are stopt, & cannot hear good newes, So much of bad already hath possest them

Pro. Then in dumbe silence will I bury mine, For they are harsh, vn-tuneable, and bad

Val. Is Siluia dead? Pro. No, Valentine

Val. No Valentine indeed, for sacred Siluia, Hath she forsworne me? Pro. No, Valentine

Val. No Valentine, if Siluia haue forsworne me. What is your newes? Lau. Sir, there is a proclamation, y you are vanished

Pro. That thou art banish'd: oh that's the newes, From hence, from Siluia, and from me thy friend

Val. Oh, I haue fed vpon this woe already, And now excesse of it will make me surfet. Doth Siluia know that I am banish'd? Pro. I, I: and she hath offered to the doome (Which vn-reuerst stands in effectuall force) A Sea of melting pearle, which some call teares; Those at her fathers churlish feete she tenderd, With them vpon her knees, her humble selfe, Wringing her hands, whose whitenes so became them, As if but now they waxed pale for woe: But neither bended knees, pure hands held vp, Sad sighes, deepe grones, nor siluer-shedding teares Could penetrate her vncompassionate Sire; But Valentine, if he be tane, must die. Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so, When she for thy repeale was suppliant, That to close prison he commanded her, With many bitter threats of biding there

Val. No more: vnles the next word that thou speak'st Haue some malignant power vpon my life: If so: I pray thee breath it in mine eare, As ending Antheme of my endlesse dolor

Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst not helpe, And study helpe for that which thou lament'st, Time is the Nurse, and breeder of all good; Here, if thou stay, thou canst not see thy loue: Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life: Hope is a louers staffe, walke hence with that And manage it, against despairing thoughts: Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence, Which, being writ to me, shall be deliuer'd Euen in the milke-white bosome of thy Loue. The time now serues not to expostulate, Come, Ile conuey thee through the City-gate. And ere I part with thee, confer at large Of all that may concerne thy Loue-affaires: As thou lou'st Siluia (though not for thy selfe) Regard thy danger, and along with me

Val. I pray thee Launce, and if thou seest my Boy Bid him make haste, and meet me at the North-gate

Pro. Goe sirha, finde him out: Come Valentine

Val. Oh my deere Siluia; haplesse Valentine

Launce. I am but a foole, looke you, and yet I haue the wit to thinke my Master is a kinde of a knaue: but that's all one, if he be but one knaue: He liues not now that knowes me to be in loue, yet I am in loue, but a Teeme of horse shall not plucke that from me: nor who 'tis I loue: and yet 'tis a woman; but what woman, I will not tell my selfe: and yet 'tis a Milke-maid: yet 'tis not a maid: for shee hath had Gossips: yet 'tis a maid, for she is her Masters maid, and serues for wages. Shee hath more qualities then a Water-Spaniell, which is much in a bare Christian: Heere is the Catelog of her Condition. Inprimis. Shee can fetch and carry: why a horse can doe no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, but onely carry, therefore is shee better then a Iade. Item. She can milke, looke you, a sweet vertue in a maid with cleane hands

Speed. How now Signior Launce? what newes with your Mastership? La. With my Mastership? why, it is at Sea: Sp. Well, your old vice still: mistake the word: what newes then in your paper? La. The black'st newes that euer thou heard'st

Sp. Why man? how blacke? La. Why, as blacke as Inke

Sp. Let me read them? La. Fie on thee Iolt-head, thou canst not read

Sp. Thou lyest: I can

La. I will try thee: tell me this: who begot thee? Sp. Marry, the son of my Grand-father

La. Oh illiterate loyterer; it was the sonne of thy Grand-mother: this proues that thou canst not read

Sp. Come foole, come: try me in thy paper

La. There: and S[aint]. Nicholas be thy speed

Sp. Inprimis she can milke

La. I that she can

Sp. Item, she brewes good Ale

La. And thereof comes the prouerbe: (Blessing of your heart, you brew good Ale.) Sp. Item, she can sowe

La. That's as much as to say (Can she so?) Sp. Item she can knit

La. What neede a man care for a stock with a wench, When she can knit him a stocke? Sp. Item, she can wash and scoure

La. A speciall vertue: for then shee neede not be wash'd, and scowr'd

Sp. Item, she can spin

La. Then may I set the world on wheeles, when she can spin for her liuing

Sp. Item, she hath many namelesse vertues

La. That's as much as to say Bastard-vertues: that indeede know not their fathers; and therefore haue no names

Sp. Here follow her vices

La. Close at the heeles of her vertues

Sp. Item, shee is not to be fasting in respect of her breath

La. Well: that fault may be mended with a breakfast: read on

Sp. Item, she hath a sweet mouth

La. That makes amends for her soure breath

Sp. Item, she doth talke in her sleepe

La. It's no matter for that; so shee sleepe not in her talke

Sp. Item, she is slow in words

La. Oh villaine, that set this downe among her vices; To be slow in words, is a womans onely vertue: I pray thee out with't, and place it for her chiefe vertue

Sp. Item, she is proud

La. Out with that too: It was Eues legacie, and cannot be t'ane from her

Sp. Item, she hath no teeth

La. I care not for that neither: because I loue crusts

Sp. Item, she is curst

La. Well: the best is, she hath no teeth to bite

Sp. Item, she will often praise her liquor

La. If her liquor be good, she shall: if she will not, I will; for good things should be praised

Sp. Item, she is too liberall

La. Of her tongue she cannot; for that's writ downe she is slow of: of her purse, shee shall not, for that ile keepe shut: Now, of another thing shee may, and that cannot I helpe. Well, proceede

Sp. Item, shee hath more haire then wit, and more faults then haires, and more wealth then faults

La. Stop there: Ile haue her: she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last Article: rehearse that once more

Sp. Item, she hath more haire then wit

La. More haire then wit: it may be ile proue it: The couer of the salt, hides the salt, and therefore it is more then the salt; the haire that couers the wit, is more then the wit; for the greater hides the lesse: What's next? Sp. And more faults then haires

La. That's monstrous: oh that that were out

Sp. And more wealth then faults

La. Why that word makes the faults gracious: Well, ile haue her: and if it be a match, as nothing is impossible

Sp. What then? La. Why then, will I tell thee, that thy Master staies for thee at the North gate

Sp. For me? La. For thee? I, who art thou? he hath staid for a better man then thee

Sp. And must I goe to him? La. Thou must run to him; for thou hast staid so long, that going will scarce serue the turne

Sp. Why didst not tell me sooner? 'pox of your loue Letters

La. Now will he be swing'd for reading my Letter; An vnmannerly slaue, that will thrust himselfe into secrets: Ile after, to reioyce in the boyes correctio[n].

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Duke, Thurio, Protheus.

Du. Sir Thurio, feare not, but that she will loue you Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight

Th. Since his exile she hath despis'd me most, Forsworne my company, and rail'd at me, That I am desperate of obtaining her

Du. This weake impresse of Loue, is as a figure Trenched in ice, which with an houres heate Dissolues to water, and doth loose his forme. A little time will melt her frozen thoughts, And worthlesse Valentine shall be forgot. How now sir Protheus, is your countriman (According to our Proclamation) gon? Pro. Gon, my good Lord

Du. My daughter takes his going grieuously? Pro. A little time (my Lord) will kill that griefe

Du. So I beleeue: but Thurio thinkes not so: Protheus, the good conceit I hold of thee, (For thou hast showne some signe of good desert) Makes me the better to confer with thee

Pro. Longer then I proue loyall to your Grace, Let me not liue, to looke vpon your Grace

Du. Thou know'st how willingly, I would effect The match betweene sir Thurio, and my daughter? Pro. I doe my Lord

Du. And also, I thinke, thou art not ignorant How she opposes her against my will? Pro. She did my Lord, when Valentine was here

Du. I, and peruersly, she perseuers so: What might we doe to make the girle forget The loue of Valentine, and loue sir Thurio? Pro. The best way is, to slander Valentine, With falsehood, cowardize, and poore discent: Three things, that women highly hold in hate

Du. I, but she'll thinke, that it is spoke in hate

Pro. I, if his enemy deliuer it. Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken By one, whom she esteemeth as his friend

Du. Then you must vndertake to slander him

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

Du. Where your good word cannot aduantage him, Your slander neuer can endamage him; Therefore the office is indifferent, Being intreated to it by your friend

Pro. You haue preuail'd (my Lord) if I can doe it By ought that I can speake in his dispraise, She shall not long continue loue to him: But say this weede her loue from Valentine, It followes not that she will loue sir Thurio

Th. Therefore, as you vnwinde her loue from him; Least it should rauell, and be good to none, You must prouide to bottome it on me: Which must be done, by praising me as much As you, in worth dispraise, sir Valentine

Du. And Protheus, we dare trust you in this kinde, Because we know (on Valentines report) You are already loues firme votary, And cannot soone reuolt, and change your minde. Vpon this warrant, shall you haue accesse, Where you, with Siluia, may conferre at large. For she is lumpish, heauy, mellancholly, And (for your friends sake) will be glad of you; Where you may temper her, by your perswasion, To hate yong Valentine, and loue my friend

Pro. As much as I can doe, I will effect: But you sir Thurio, are not sharpe enough: You must lay Lime, to tangle her desires By walefull Sonnets, whose composed Rimes Should be full fraught with seruiceable vowes

Du. I, much is the force of heauen-bred Poesie

Pro. Say that vpon the altar of her beauty You sacrifice your teares, your sighes, your heart: Write till your inke be dry: and with your teares Moist it againe: and frame some feeling line, That may discouer such integrity: For Orpheus Lute, was strung with Poets sinewes, Whose golden touch could soften steele and stones; Make Tygers tame, and huge Leuiathans Forsake vnsounded deepes, to dance on Sands. After your dire-lamenting Elegies, Visit by night your Ladies chamber-window With some sweet Consort; To their Instruments Tune a deploring dumpe: the nights dead silence Will well become such sweet complaining grieuance: This, or else nothing, will inherit her

Du. This discipline, showes thou hast bin in loue

Th. And thy aduice, this night, ile put in practise: Therefore, sweet Protheus, my direction-giuer, Let vs into the City presently To sort some Gentlemen, well skil'd in Musicke. I haue a Sonnet, that will serue the turne To giue the on-set to thy good aduise

Du. About it Gentlemen

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

Du. Euen now about it, I will pardon you.

Exeunt.

Actus Quartus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Valentine, Speed, and certaine Out-lawes.

1.Outl. Fellowes, stand fast: I see a passenger

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

3.Out. Stand sir, and throw vs that you haue about 'ye. If not: we'll make you sit, and rifle you

Sp. Sir we are vndone; these are the Villaines That all the Trauailers doe feare so much

Val. My friends

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

2.Out. Peace: we'll heare him

3.Out. I by my beard will we: for he is a proper man

Val. Then know that I haue little wealth to loose; A man I am, cross'd with aduersitie: My riches, are these poore habiliments, Of which, if you should here disfurnish me, You take the sum and substance that I haue

2.Out. Whether trauell you? Val. To Verona

1.Out. Whence came you? Val. From Millaine

3.Out. Haue you long soiourn'd there? Val. Some sixteene moneths, and longer might haue staid, If crooked fortune had not thwarted me

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

2.Out. For what offence? Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse; I kil'd a man, whose death I much repent, But yet I slew him manfully, in fight, Without false vantage, or base treachery

1.Out. Why nere repent it, if it were done so; But were you banisht for so small a fault? Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doome

2.Out. Haue you the Tongues? Val. My youthfull trauaile, therein made me happy, Or else I often had beene often miserable

3.Out. By the bare scalpe of Robin Hoods fat Fryer, This fellow were a King, for our wilde faction

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

Sp. Master, be one of them: It's an honourable kinde of theeuery

Val. Peace villaine

2.Out. Tell vs this: haue you any thing to take to? Val. Nothing but my fortune

3.Out. Know then, that some of vs are Gentlemen, Such as the fury of vngouern'd youth Thrust from the company of awfull men. My selfe was from Verona banished, For practising to steale away a Lady, And heire and Neece, alide vnto the Duke

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

1.Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as these. But to the purpose: for we cite our faults, That they may hold excus'd our lawlesse liues; And partly seeing you are beautifide With goodly shape; and by your owne report, A Linguist, and a man of such perfection, As we doe in our quality much want

2.Out. Indeede because you are a banish'd man, Therefore, aboue the rest, we parley to you: Are you content to be our Generall? To make a vertue of necessity, And liue as we doe in this wildernesse? 3.Out. What saist thou? wilt thou be of our consort? Say I, and be the captaine of vs all: We'll doe thee homage, and be rul'd by thee, Loue thee, as our Commander, and our King

1.Out. But if thou scorne our curtesie, thou dyest

2.Out. Thou shalt not liue, to brag what we haue offer'd

Val. I take your offer, and will liue with you, Prouided that you do no outrages On silly women, or poore passengers

3.Out. No, we detest such vile base practises. Come, goe with vs, we'll bring thee to our Crewes, And show thee all the Treasure we haue got; Which, with our selues, all rest at thy dispose.

Exeunt.

Scoena Secunda.

Enter Protheus, Thurio, Iulia, Host, Musitian, Siluia.

Pro. Already haue I bin false to Valentine, And now I must be as vniust to Thurio, Vnder the colour of commending him, I haue accesse my owne loue to prefer. But Siluia is too faire, too true, too holy, To be corrupted with my worthlesse guifts; When I protest true loyalty to her, She twits me with my falsehood to my friend; When to her beauty I commend my vowes, She bids me thinke how I haue bin forsworne In breaking faith with Iulia, whom I lou'd; And notwithstanding all her sodaine quips, The least whereof would quell a louers hope: Yet (Spaniel-like) the more she spurnes my loue, The more it growes, and fawneth on her still; But here comes Thurio; now must we to her window, And giue some euening Musique to her eare

Th. How now, sir Protheus, are you crept before vs? Pro. I gentle Thurio, for you know that loue Will creepe in seruice, where it cannot goe

Th. I, but I hope, Sir, that you loue not here

Pro. Sir, but I doe: or else I would be hence

Th. Who, Siluia? Pro. I, Siluia, for your sake

Th. I thanke you for your owne: Now Gentlemen Let's tune: and too it lustily a while

Ho. Now, my yong guest; me thinks your' allycholly; I pray you why is it? Iu. Marry (mine Host) because I cannot be merry

Ho. Come, we'll haue you merry: ile bring you where you shall heare Musique, and see the Gentleman that you ask'd for

Iu. But shall I heare him speake

Ho. I that you shall

Iu. That will be Musique

Ho. Harke, harke

Iu. Is he among these? Ho. I: but peace, let's heare'm

Song. Who is Siluia? what is she? That all our Swaines commend her? Holy, faire, and wise is she, The heauen such grace did lend her, that she might admired be. Is she kinde as she is faire? For beauty liues with kindnesse: Loue doth to her eyes repaire, To helpe him of his blindnesse: And being help'd, inhabits there. Then to Siluia, let vs sing, That Siluia is excelling; She excels each mortall thing Vpon the dull earth dwelling. To her let vs Garlands bring

Ho. How now? are you sadder then you were before; How doe you, man? the Musicke likes you not

Iu. You mistake: the Musitian likes me not

Ho. Why, my pretty youth? Iu. He plaies false (father.) Ho. How, out of tune on the strings

Iu. Not so: but yet So false that he grieues my very heart-strings

Ho. You haue a quicke eare

Iu. I, I would I were deafe: it makes me haue a slow heart

Ho. I perceiue you delight not in Musique

Iu. Not a whit, when it iars so

Ho. Harke, what fine change is in the Musique

Iu. I: that change is the spight

Ho. You would haue them alwaies play but one thing

Iu. I would alwaies haue one play but one thing. But Host, doth this Sir Protheus, that we talke on, Often resort vnto this Gentlewoman? Ho. I tell you what Launce his man told me, He lou'd her out of all nicke

Iu. Where is Launce? Ho. Gone to seeke his dog, which to morrow, by his Masters command, hee must carry for a present to his Lady

Iu. Peace, stand aside, the company parts

Pro. Sir Thurio, feare not you, I will so pleade, That you shall say, my cunning drift excels

Th. Where meete we? Pro. At Saint Gregories well

Th. Farewell

Pro. Madam: good eu'n to your Ladiship

Sil. I thanke you for your Musique (Gentlemen) Who is that that spake? Pro. One (Lady) if you knew his pure hearts truth, You would quickly learne to know him by his voice

Sil. Sir Protheus, as I take it

Pro. Sir Protheus (gentle Lady) and your Seruant

Sil. What's your will? Pro. That I may compasse yours

Sil. You haue your wish: my will is euen this, That presently you hie you home to bed: Thou subtile, periur'd, false, disloyall man: Think'st thou I am so shallow, so conceitlesse, To be seduced by thy flattery, That has't deceiu'd so many with thy vowes? Returne, returne, and make thy loue amends: For me (by this pale queene of night I sweare) I am so farre from granting thy request, That I despise thee, for thy wrongfull suite; And by and by intend to chide my selfe, Euen for this time I spend in talking to thee

Pro. I grant (sweet loue) that I did loue a Lady, But she is dead

Iu. 'Twere false, if I should speake it; For I am sure she is not buried

Sil. Say that she be: yet Valentine thy friend Suruiues; to whom (thy selfe art witnesse) I am betroth'd; and art thou not asham'd To wrong him, with thy importunacy? Pro. I likewise heare that Valentine is dead

Sil. And so suppose am I; for in her graue Assure thy selfe, my loue is buried

Pro. Sweet Lady, let me rake it from the earth

Sil. Goe to thy Ladies graue and call hers thence, Or at the least, in hers, sepulcher thine

Iul. He heard not that

Pro. Madam: if your heart be so obdurate: Vouchsafe me yet your Picture for my loue, The Picture that is hanging in your chamber: To that ile speake, to that ile sigh and weepe: For since the substance of your perfect selfe Is else deuoted, I am but a shadow; And to your shadow, will I make true loue

Iul. If 'twere a substance you would sure deceiue it, And make it but a shadow, as I am

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

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

Iul. Host, will you goe? Ho. By my hallidome, I was fast asleepe

Iul. Pray you, where lies Sir Protheus? Ho. Marry, at my house: Trust me, I thinke 'tis almost day

Iul. Not so: but it hath bin the longest night That ere I watch'd, and the most heauiest.

Scoena Tertia.

Enter Eglamore, Siluia.

Eg. This is the houre that Madam Siluia Entreated me to call, and know her minde: Ther's some great matter she'ld employ me in. Madam, Madam

Sil. Who cals? Eg. Your seruant, and your friend; One that attends your Ladiships command

Sil. Sir Eglamore, a thousand times good morrow

Eg. As many (worthy Lady) to your selfe: According to your Ladiships impose, I am thus early come, to know what seruice It is your pleasure to command me in

Sil. Oh Eglamoure, thou art a Gentleman: Thinke not I flatter (for I sweare I doe not) Valiant, wise, remorse-full, well accomplish'd. Thou art not ignorant what deere good will I beare vnto the banish'd Valentine: Nor how my father would enforce me marry Vaine Thurio (whom my very soule abhor'd.) Thy selfe hast lou'd, and I haue heard thee say No griefe did euer come so neere thy heart, As when thy Lady, and thy true-loue dide, Vpon whose Graue thou vow'dst pure chastitie: Sir Eglamoure: I would to Valentine To Mantua, where I heare, he makes aboad; And for the waies are dangerous to passe, I doe desire thy worthy company, Vpon whose faith and honor, I repose. Vrge not my fathers anger (Eglamoure) But thinke vpon my griefe (a Ladies griefe) And on the iustice of my flying hence, To keepe me from a most vnholy match, Which heauen and fortune still rewards with plagues. I doe desire thee, euen from a heart As full of sorrowes, as the Sea of sands, To beare me company, and goe with me: If not, to hide what I haue said to thee, That I may venture to depart alone

Egl. Madam, I pitty much your grieuances, Which, since I know they vertuously are plac'd, I giue consent to goe along with you, Wreaking as little what betideth me, As much, I wish all good befortune you. When will you goe? Sil. This euening comming

Eg. Where shall I meete you? Sil. At Frier Patrickes Cell, Where I intend holy Confession

Eg. I will not faile your Ladiship: Good morrow (gentle Lady.) Sil. Good morrow, kinde Sir Eglamoure.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Launce, Protheus, Iulia, Siluia.

Lau. When a mans seruant shall play the Curre with him (looke you) it goes hard: one that I brought vp of a puppy: one that I sau'd from drowning, when three or foure of his blinde brothers and sisters went to it: I haue taught him (euen as one would say precisely, thus I would teach a dog) I was sent to deliuer him, as a present to Mistris Siluia, from my Master; and I came no sooner into the dyning-chamber, but he steps me to her Trencher, and steales her Capons-leg: O, 'tis a foule thing, when a Cur cannot keepe himselfe in all companies: I would haue (as one should say) one that takes vpon him to be a dog indeede, to be, as it were, a dog at all things. If I had not had more wit then he, to take a fault vpon me that he did, I thinke verily hee had bin hang'd for't: sure as I liue he had suffer'd for't: you shall iudge: Hee thrusts me himselfe into the company of three or foure gentleman-like-dogs, vnder the Dukes table: hee had not bin there (blesse the marke) a pissing while, but all the chamber smelt him: out with the dog (saies one) what cur is that (saies another) whip him out (saies the third) hang him vp (saies the Duke.) I hauing bin acquainted with the smell before, knew it was Crab; and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogges: friend (quoth I) you meane to whip the dog: I marry doe I (quoth he) you doe him the more wrong (quoth I) 'twas I did the thing you wot of: he makes me no more adoe, but whips me out of the chamber: how many Masters would doe this for his Seruant? nay, ile be sworne I haue sat in the stockes, for puddings he hath stolne, otherwise he had bin executed: I haue stood on the Pillorie for Geese he hath kil'd, otherwise he had sufferd for't: thou think'st not of this now: nay, I remember the tricke you seru'd me, when I tooke my leaue of Madam Siluia: did not I bid thee still marke me, and doe as I do; when did'st thou see me heaue vp my leg, and make water against a Gentlewomans farthingale? did'st thou euer see me doe such a tricke? Pro. Sebastian is thy name: I like thee well, And will imploy thee in some seruice presently

Iu. In what you please, ile doe what I can

Pro. I hope thou wilt. How now you whorson pezant, Where haue you bin these two dayes loytering? La. Marry Sir, I carried Mistris Siluia the dogge you bad me

Pro. And what saies she to my little Iewell? La. Marry she saies your dog was a cur, and tels you currish thanks is good enough for such a present

Pro. But she receiu'd my dog? La. No indeede did she not: Here haue I brought him backe againe

Pro. What, didst thou offer her this from me? La. I Sir, the other Squirrill was stolne from me By the Hangmans boyes in the market place, And then I offer'd her mine owne, who is a dog As big as ten of yours, & therefore the guift the greater

Pro. Goe, get thee hence, and finde my dog againe, Or nere returne againe into my sight. Away, I say: stayest thou to vexe me here; A Slaue, that still an end, turnes me to shame: Sebastian, I haue entertained thee, Partly that I haue neede of such a youth, That can with some discretion doe my businesse: For 'tis no trusting to yond foolish Lowt; But chiefely, for thy face, and thy behauiour, Which (if my Augury deceiue me not) Witnesse good bringing vp, fortune, and truth: Therefore know thee, for this I entertaine thee. Go presently, and take this Ring with thee, Deliuer it to Madam Siluia; She lou'd me well, deliuer'd it to me

Iul. It seemes you lou'd not her, not leaue her token: She is dead belike? Pro. Not so: I thinke she liues

Iul. Alas

Pro. Why do'st thou cry alas? Iul. I cannot choose but pitty her

Pro. Wherefore should'st thou pitty her? Iul. Because, me thinkes that she lou'd you as well As you doe loue your Lady Siluia: She dreames on him, that has forgot her loue, You doate on her, that cares not for your loue. 'Tis pitty Loue, should be so contrary: And thinking on it, makes me cry alas

Pro. Well: giue her that Ring, and therewithall This Letter: that's her chamber: Tell my Lady, I claime the promise for her heauenly Picture: Your message done, hye home vnto my chamber, Where thou shalt finde me sad, and solitarie

Iul. How many women would doe such a message? Alas poore Protheus, thou hast entertain'd A Foxe, to be the Shepheard of thy Lambs; Alas, poore foole, why doe I pitty him That with his very heart despiseth me? Because he loues her, he despiseth me, Because I loue him, I must pitty him. This Ring I gaue him, when he parted from me, To binde him to remember my good will: And now am I (vnhappy Messenger) To plead for that, which I would not obtaine; To carry that, which I would haue refus'd; To praise his faith, which I would haue disprais'd. I am my Masters true confirmed Loue, But cannot be true seruant to my Master, Vnlesse I proue false traitor to my selfe. Yet will I woe for him, but yet so coldly, As (heauen it knowes) I would not haue him speed. Gentlewoman, good day: I pray you be my meane To bring me where to speake with Madam Siluia

Sil. What would you with her, if that I be she? Iul. If you be she, I doe intreat your patience To heare me speake the message I am sent on

Sil. From whom? Iul. From my Master, Sir Protheus, Madam

Sil. Oh: he sends you for a Picture? Iul. I, Madam

Sil. Vrsula, bring my Picture there, Goe, giue your Master this: tell him from me, One Iulia, that his changing thoughts forget Would better fit his Chamber, then this Shadow

Iul. Madam, please you peruse this Letter; Pardon me (Madam) I haue vnaduis'd Deliuer'd you a paper that I should not; This is the Letter to your Ladiship

Sil. I pray thee let me looke on that againe

Iul. It may not be: good Madam pardon me

Sil. There, hold: I will not looke vpon your Masters lines: I know they are stuft with protestations, And full of new-found oathes, which he will breake As easily, as I doe teare his paper

Iul. Madam, he sends your Ladiship this Ring

Sil. The more shame for him, that he sends it me; For I haue heard him say a thousand times, His Iulia gaue it him, at his departure: Though his false finger haue prophan'd the Ring, Mine shall not doe his Iulia so much wrong

Iul. She thankes you

Sil. What sai'st thou? Iul. I thanke you Madam, that you tender her: Poore Gentlewoman, my Master wrongs her much

Sil. Do'st thou know her? Iul. Almost as well as I doe know my selfe. To thinke vpon her woes, I doe protest That I haue wept a hundred seuerall times

Sil. Belike she thinks that Protheus hath forsook her? Iul. I thinke she doth: and that's her cause of sorrow

Sil. Is she not passing faire? Iul. She hath bin fairer (Madam) then she is, When she did thinke my Master lou'd her well; She, in my iudgement, was as faire as you. But since she did neglect her looking-glasse, And threw her Sun-expelling Masque away, The ayre hath staru'd the roses in her cheekes, And pinch'd the lilly-tincture of her face, That now she is become as blacke as I

Sil. How tall was she? Iul. About my stature: for at Pentecost, When all our Pageants of delight were plaid, Our youth got me to play the womans part, And I was trim'd in Madam Iulias gowne, Which serued me as fit, by all mens iudgements, As if the garment had bin made for me: Therefore I know she is about my height, And at that time I made her weepe a good, For I did play a lamentable part. (Madam) 'twas Ariadne, passioning For Thesus periury, and vniust flight; Which I so liuely acted with my teares: That my poore Mistris moued therewithall, Wept bitterly: and would I might be dead, If I in thought felt not her very sorrow

Sil. She is beholding to thee (gentle youth) Alas (poore Lady) desolate, and left; I weepe my selfe to thinke vpon thy words: Here youth: there is my purse; I giue thee this For thy sweet Mistris sake, because thou lou'st her. Farewell

Iul. And she shall thanke you for't, if ere you know her. A vertuous gentlewoman, milde, and beautifull. I hope my Masters suit will be but cold, Since she respects my Mistris loue so much. Alas, how loue can trifle with it selfe: Here is her Picture: let me see, I thinke If I had such a Tyre, this face of mine Were full as louely, as is this of hers; And yet the Painter flatter'd her a little, Vnlesse I flatter with my selfe too much. Her haire is Aburne, mine is perfect Yellow; If that be all the difference in his loue, Ile get me such a coulour'd Perrywig: Her eyes are grey as glasse, and so are mine. I, but her fore-head's low, and mine's as high: What should it be that he respects in her, But I can make respectiue in my selfe? If this fond Loue, were not a blinded god. Come shadow, come, and take this shadow vp, For 'tis thy riuall: O thou sencelesse forme, Thou shalt be worship'd, kiss'd, lou'd, and ador'd; And were there sence in his Idolatry, My substance should be statue in thy stead. Ile vse thee kindly, for thy Mistris sake That vs'd me so: or else by Ioue, I vow, I should haue scratch'd out your vnseeing eyes, To make my Master out of loue with thee.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Eglamoure, Siluia.

Egl. The Sun begins to guild the westerne skie, And now it is about the very houre That Siluia, at Fryer Patricks Cell should meet me, She will not faile; for Louers breake not houres, Vnlesse it be to come before their time, So much they spur their expedition. See where she comes: Lady a happy euening

Sil. Amen, Amen: goe on (good Eglamoure) Out at the Posterne by the Abbey wall; I feare I am attended by some Spies

Egl. Feare not: the Forrest is not three leagues off, If we recouer that, we are sure enough.

Exeunt.

Scoena Secunda.

Enter Thurio, Protheus, Iulia, Duke.

Th. Sir Protheus, what saies Siluia to my suit? Pro. Oh Sir, I finde her milder then she was, And yet she takes exceptions at your person

Thu. What? that my leg is too long? Pro. No, that it is too little

Thu. Ile weare a Boote, to make it somewhat rounder

Pro. But loue will not be spurd to what it loathes

Thu. What saies she to my face? Pro. She saies it is a faire one

Thu. Nay then the wanton lyes: my face is blacke

Pro. But Pearles are faire; and the old saying is, Blacke men are Pearles, in beauteous Ladies eyes

Thu. 'Tis true, such Pearles as put out Ladies eyes, For I had rather winke, then looke on them

Thu. How likes she my discourse? Pro. Ill, when you talke of war

Thu. But well, when I discourse of loue and peace

Iul. But better indeede, when you hold you peace

Thu. What sayes she to my valour? Pro. Oh Sir, she makes no doubt of that

Iul. She needes not, when she knowes it cowardize

Thu. What saies she to my birth? Pro. That you are well deriu'd

Iul. True: from a Gentleman, to a foole

Thu. Considers she my Possessions? Pro. Oh, I: and pitties them

Thu. Wherefore? Iul. That such an Asse should owe them

Pro. That they are out by Lease

Iul. Here comes the Duke

Du. How now sir Protheus; how now Thurio? Which of you saw Eglamoure of late? Thu. Not I

Pro. Nor I

Du. Saw you my daughter? Pro. Neither

Du. Why then She's fled vnto that pezant, Valentine; And Eglamoure is in her Company: 'Tis true: for Frier Laurence met them both As he, in pennance wander'd through the Forrest: Him he knew well: and guesd that it was she, But being mask'd, he was not sure of it. Besides she did intend Confession At Patricks Cell this euen, and there she was not. These likelihoods confirme her flight from hence; Therefore I pray you stand, not to discourse, But mount you presently, and meete with me Vpon the rising of the Mountaine foote That leads toward Mantua, whether they are fled: Dispatch (sweet Gentlemen) and follow me

Thu. Why this it is, to be a peeuish Girle, That flies her fortune when it followes her: Ile after; more to be reueng'd on Eglamoure, Then for the loue of reck-lesse Siluia

Pro. And I will follow, more for Siluias loue Then hate of Eglamoure that goes with her

Iul. And I will follow, more to crosse that loue Then hate for Siluia, that is gone for loue.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Siluia, Outlawes.

1.Out. Come, come be patient: We must bring you to our Captaine

Sil. A thousand more mischances then this one Haue learn'd me how to brooke this patiently

2 Out. Come, bring her away

1 Out. Where is the Gentleman that was with her? 3 Out. Being nimble footed, he hath out-run vs. But Moyses and Valerius follow him: Goe thou with her to the West end of the wood, There is our Captaine: Wee'll follow him that's fled, The Thicket is beset, he cannot scape

1 Out. Come, I must bring you to our Captains caue. Feare not: he beares an honourable minde, And will not vse a woman lawlesly

Sil. O Valentine: this I endure for thee.

Exeunt.

Scoena Quarta.

Enter Valentine, Protheus, Siluia, Iulia, Duke, Thurio, Outlawes.

Val. How vse doth breed a habit in a man? This shadowy desart, vnfrequented woods I better brooke then flourishing peopled Townes: Here can I sit alone, vn-seene of any, And to the Nightingales complaining Notes Tune my distresses, and record my woes. O thou that dost inhabit in my brest, Leaue not the Mansion so long Tenant-lesse, Lest growing ruinous, the building fall, And leaue no memory of what it was, Repaire me, with thy presence, Siluia: Thou gentle Nimph, cherish thy forlorne swaine. What hallowing, and what stir is this to day? These are my mates, that make their wills their Law, Haue some vnhappy passenger in chace; They loue me well: yet I haue much to doe To keepe them from vnciuill outrages. Withdraw thee Valentine: who's this comes heere? Pro. Madam, this seruice I haue done for you (Though you respect not aught your seruant doth) To hazard life, and reskew you from him, That would haue forc'd your honour, and your loue, Vouchsafe me for my meed, but one faire looke: (A smaller boone then this I cannot beg, And lesse then this, I am sure you cannot giue.) Val. How like a dreame is this? I see, and heare: Loue, lend me patience to forbeare a while

Sil. O miserable, vnhappy that I am

Pro. Vnhappy were you (Madam) ere I came: But by my comming, I haue made you happy

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

Iul. And me, when he approcheth to your presence

Sil. Had I beene ceazed by a hungry Lion, I would haue beene a breakfast to the Beast, Rather then haue false Protheus reskue me: Oh heauen be iudge how I loue Valentine, Whose life's as tender to me as my soule, And full as much (for more there cannot be) I doe detest false periur'd Protheus: Therefore be gone, sollicit me no more

Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to death Would I not vndergoe, for one calme looke: Oh 'tis the curse in Loue, and still approu'd When women cannot loue, where they're belou'd

Sil. When Protheus cannot loue, where he's belou'd: Read ouer Iulia's heart, (thy first best Loue) For whose deare sake, thou didst then rend thy faith Into a thousand oathes; and all those oathes, Descended into periury, to loue me, Thou hast no faith left now, vnlesse thou'dst two, And that's farre worse then none: better haue none Then plurall faith, which is too much by one: Thou Counterfeyt, to thy true friend

Pro. In Loue, Who respects friend? Sil. All men but Protheus

Pro. Nay, if the gentle spirit of mouing words Can no way change you to a milder forme; Ile wooe you like a Souldier, at armes end, And loue you 'gainst the nature of Loue: force ye

Sil. Oh heauen

Pro. Ile force thee yeeld to my desire

Val. Ruffian: let goe that rude vnciuill touch, Thou friend of an ill fashion

Pro. Valentine

Val. Thou co[m]mon friend, that's without faith or loue, For such is a friend now: treacherous man, Thou hast beguil'd my hopes; nought but mine eye Could haue perswaded me: now I dare not say I haue one friend aliue; thou wouldst disproue me: Who should be trusted, when ones right hand Is periured to the bosome? Protheus I am sorry I must neuer trust thee more, But count the world a stranger for thy sake: The priuate wound is deepest: oh time, most accurst. 'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst? Pro. My shame and guilt confounds me: Forgiue me Valentine: if hearty sorrow Be a sufficient Ransome for offence, I tender't heere: I doe as truely suffer, As ere I did commit

Val. Then I am paid: And once againe, I doe receiue thee honest; Who by Repentance is not satisfied, Is nor of heauen, nor earth; for these are pleas'd: By Penitence th' Eternalls wrath's appeas'd: And that my loue may appeare plaine and free, All that was mine, in Siluia, I giue thee

Iul. Oh me vnhappy

Pro. Looke to the Boy

Val. Why, Boy? Why wag: how now? what's the matter? look vp: speak

Iul. O good sir, my master charg'd me to deliuer a ring to Madam Siluia: w (out of my neglect) was neuer done

Pro. Where is that ring? boy? Iul. Heere 'tis: this is it

Pro. How? let me see. Why this is the ring I gaue to Iulia

Iul. Oh, cry you mercy sir, I haue mistooke: This is the ring you sent to Siluia

Pro. But how cam'st thou by this ring? at my depart I gaue this vnto Iulia

Iul. And Iulia her selfe did giue it me, And Iulia her selfe hath brought it hither

Pro. How? Iulia? Iul. Behold her, that gaue ayme to all thy oathes, And entertain'd 'em deepely in her heart. How oft hast thou with periury cleft the roote? Oh Protheus, let this habit make thee blush. Be thou asham'd that I haue tooke vpon me, Such an immodest rayment; if shame liue In a disguise of loue? It is the lesser blot modesty findes, Women to change their shapes, then men their minds

Pro. Then men their minds? tis true: oh heuen, were man But Constant, he were perfect; that one error Fils him with faults: makes him run through all th' sins; Inconstancy falls-off, ere it begins: What is in Siluia's face, but I may spie More fresh in Iulia's, with a constant eye? Val. Come, come: a hand from either: Let me be blest to make this happy close: 'Twere pitty two such friends should be long foes

Pro. Beare witnes (heauen) I haue my wish for euer

Iul. And I mine

Outl. A prize: a prize: a prize

Val. Forbeare, forbeare I say: It is my Lord the Duke. Your Grace is welcome to a man disgrac'd, Banished Valentine

Duke. Sir Valentine? Thu. Yonder is Siluia: and Siluia's mine

Val. Thurio giue backe; or else embrace thy death: Come not within the measure of my wrath: Doe not name Siluia thine: if once againe, Verona shall not hold thee: heere she stands, Take but possession of her, with a Touch: I dare thee, but to breath vpon my Loue

Thur. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I: I hold him but a foole that will endanger His Body, for a Girle that loues him not: I claime her not, and therefore she is thine

Duke. The more degenerate and base art thou To make such meanes for her, as thou hast done, And leaue her on such slight conditions. Now, by the honor of my Ancestry, I doe applaud thy spirit, Valentine, And thinke thee worthy of an Empresse loue: Know then, I heere forget all former greefes, Cancell all grudge, repeale thee home againe, Plead a new state in thy vn-riual'd merit, To which I thus subscribe: Sir Valentine, Thou art a Gentleman, and well deriu'd, Take thou thy Siluia, for thou hast deseru'd her

Val. I thank your Grace, y gift hath made me happy: I now beseech you (for your daughters sake) To grant one Boone that I shall aske of you

Duke. I grant it (for thine owne) what ere it be

Val. These banish'd men, that I haue kept withall, Are men endu'd with worthy qualities: Forgiue them what they haue committed here, And let them be recall'd from their Exile: They are reformed, ciuill, full of good, And fit for great employment (worthy Lord.) Duke. Thou hast preuaild, I pardon them and thee: Dispose of them, as thou knowst their deserts. Come, let vs goe, we will include all iarres, With Triumphes, Mirth, and rare solemnity

Val. And as we walke along, I dare be bold With our discourse, to make your Grace to smile. What thinke you of this Page (my Lord?) Duke. I think the Boy hath grace in him, he blushes

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

Duke. What meane you by that saying? Val. Please you, Ile tell you, as we passe along, That you will wonder what hath fortuned: Come Protheus, 'tis your pennance, but to heare The story of your Loues discouered. That done, our day of marriage shall be yours, One Feast, one house, one mutuall happinesse.

Exeunt.

The names of all the Actors.

Duke: Father to Siluia. Valentine. Protheus. the two Gentlemen. Anthonio: father to Protheus. Thurio: a foolish riuall to Valentine. Eglamoure: Agent for Siluia in her escape. Host: where Iulia lodges. Outlawes with Valentine. Speed: a clownish seruant to Valentine. Launce: the like to Protheus. Panthion: seruant to Antonio. Iulia: beloued of Protheus. Siluia: beloued of Valentine. Lucetta: waighting-woman to Iulia.

FINIS. THE Two Gentlemen of Verona.

The Merry Wiues of Windsor

Actus primus, Scena prima.

Enter Iustice Shallow, Slender, Sir Hugh Euans, Master Page, Falstoffe, Bardolph, Nym, Pistoll, Anne Page, Mistresse Ford, Mistresse Page, Simple.

Shallow. Sir Hugh, perswade me not: I will make a StarChamber matter of it, if hee were twenty Sir Iohn Falstoffs, he shall not abuse Robert Shallow Esquire

Slen. In the County of Glocester, Iustice of Peace and Coram

Shal. I (Cosen Slender) and Custalorum

Slen. I, and Ratolorum too; and a Gentleman borne (Master Parson) who writes himselfe Armigero, in any Bill, Warrant, Quittance, or Obligation, Armigero

Shal. I that I doe, and haue done any time these three hundred yeeres

Slen. All his successors (gone before him) hath don't: and all his Ancestors (that come after him) may: they may giue the dozen white Luces in their Coate

Shal. It is an olde Coate

Euans. The dozen white Lowses doe become an old Coat well: it agrees well passant: It is a familiar beast to man, and signifies Loue

Shal. The Luse is the fresh-fish, the salt-fish, is an old Coate

Slen. I may quarter (Coz)

Shal. You may, by marrying

Euans. It is marring indeed, if he quarter it

Shal. Not a whit

Euan. Yes per-lady: if he ha's a quarter of your coat, there is but three Skirts for your selfe, in my simple coniectures; but that is all one: if Sir Iohn Falstaffe haue committed disparagements vnto you, I am of the Church and will be glad to do my beneuolence, to make attonements and compremises betweene you

Shal. The Councell shall heare it, it is a Riot

Euan. It is not meet the Councell heare a Riot: there is no feare of Got in a Riot: The Councell (looke you) shall desire to heare the feare of Got, and not to heare a Riot: take your vizaments in that

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

Euans. It is petter that friends is the sword, and end it: and there is also another deuice in my praine, which peraduenture prings goot discretions with it. There is Anne Page, which is daughter to Master Thomas Page, which is pretty virginity

Slen. Mistris Anne Page? she has browne haire, and speakes small like a woman

Euans. It is that ferry person for all the orld, as iust as you will desire, and seuen hundred pounds of Moneyes, and Gold, and Siluer, is her Grand-sire vpon his deathsbed, (Got deliuer to a ioyfull resurrections) giue, when she is able to ouertake seuenteene yeeres old. It were a goot motion, if we leaue our pribbles and prabbles, and desire a marriage betweene Master Abraham, and Mistris Anne Page

Slen. Did her Grand-sire leaue her seauen hundred pound? Euan. I, and her father is make her a petter penny

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

Euan. Seuen hundred pounds, and possibilities, is goot gifts

Shal. Wel, let vs see honest Mr Page: is Falstaffe there? Euan. Shall I tell you a lye? I doe despise a lyer, as I doe despise one that is false, or as I despise one that is not true: the Knight Sir Iohn is there, and I beseech you be ruled by your well-willers: I will peat the doore for Mr. Page. What hoa? Got-plesse your house heere

Mr.Page. Who's there? Euan. Here is go't's plessing and your friend, and Iustice Shallow, and heere yong Master Slender: that peraduentures shall tell you another tale, if matters grow to your likings

Mr.Page. I am glad to see your Worships well: I thanke you for my Venison Master Shallow

Shal. Master Page, I am glad to see you: much good doe it your good heart: I wish'd your Venison better, it was ill killd: how doth good Mistresse Page? and I thank you alwaies with my heart, la: with my heart

M.Page. Sir, I thanke you

Shal. Sir, I thanke you: by yea, and no I doe

M.Pa. I am glad to see you, good Master Slender

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

M.Pa. It could not be iudg'd, Sir

Slen. You'll not confesse: you'll not confesse

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

M.Pa. A Cur, Sir

Shal. Sir: hee's a good dog, and a faire dog, can there be more said? he is good, and faire. Is Sir Iohn Falstaffe heere? M.Pa. Sir, hee is within: and I would I could doe a good office betweene you

Euan. It is spoke as a Christians ought to speake

Shal. He hath wrong'd me (Master Page.) M.Pa. Sir, he doth in some sort confesse it

Shal. If it be confessed, it is not redressed; is not that so (M[aster]. Page?) he hath wrong'd me, indeed he hath, at a word he hath: beleeue me, Robert Shallow Esquire, saith he is wronged

Ma.Pa. Here comes Sir Iohn

Fal. Now, Master Shallow, you'll complaine of me to the King? Shal. Knight, you haue beaten my men, kill'd my deere, and broke open my Lodge

Fal. But not kiss'd your Keepers daughter? Shal. Tut, a pin: this shall be answer'd

Fal. I will answere it strait, I haue done all this: That is now answer'd

Shal. The Councell shall know this

Fal. 'Twere better for you if it were known in councell: you'll be laugh'd at

Eu. Pauca verba; (Sir Iohn) good worts

Fal. Good worts? good Cabidge; Slender, I broke your head: what matter haue you against me? Slen. Marry sir, I haue matter in my head against you, and against your cony-catching Rascalls, Bardolf, Nym, and Pistoll

Bar. You Banbery Cheese

Slen. I, it is no matter

Pist. How now, Mephostophilus? Slen. I, it is no matter

Nym. Slice, I say; pauca, pauca: Slice, that's my humor

Slen. Where's Simple my man? can you tell, Cosen? Eua. Peace, I pray you: now let vs vnderstand: there is three Vmpires in this matter, as I vnderstand; that is, Master Page (fidelicet Master Page,) & there is my selfe, (fidelicet my selfe) and the three party is (lastly, and finally) mine Host of the Garter

Ma.Pa. We three to hear it, & end it between them

Euan. Ferry goo't, I will make a priefe of it in my note-booke, and we wil afterwards orke vpon the cause, with as great discreetly as we can

Fal. Pistoll

Pist. He heares with eares

Euan. The Teuill and his Tam: what phrase is this? he heares with eare? why, it is affectations

Fal. Pistoll, did you picke M[aster]. Slenders purse? Slen. I, by these gloues did hee, or I would I might neuer come in mine owne great chamber againe else, of seauen groates in mill-sixpences, and two Edward Shouelboords, that cost me two shilling and two pence a peece of Yead Miller: by these gloues

Fal. Is this true, Pistoll? Euan. No, it is false, if it is a picke-purse

Pist. Ha, thou mountaine Forreyner: Sir Iohn, and Master mine, I combat challenge of this Latine Bilboe: word of deniall in thy labras here; word of denial; froth, and scum thou liest

Slen. By these gloues, then 'twas he

Nym. Be auis'd sir, and passe good humours: I will say marry trap with you, if you runne the nut-hooks humor on me, that is the very note of it

Slen. By this hat, then he in the red face had it: for though I cannot remember what I did when you made me drunke, yet I am not altogether an asse

Fal. What say you Scarlet, and Iohn? Bar. Why sir, (for my part) I say the Gentleman had drunke himselfe out of his fiue sentences

Eu. It is his fiue sences: fie, what the ignorance is

Bar. And being fap, sir, was (as they say) casheerd: and so conclusions past the Careires

Slen. I, you spake in Latten then to: but 'tis no matter; Ile nere be drunk whilst I liue againe, but in honest, ciuill, godly company for this tricke: if I be drunke, Ile be drunke with those that haue the feare of God, and not with drunken knaues

Euan. So got-udge me, that is a vertuous minde

Fal. You heare all these matters deni'd, Gentlemen; you heare it

Mr.Page. Nay daughter, carry the wine in, wee'll drinke within

Slen. Oh heauen: This is Mistresse Anne Page

Mr.Page. How now Mistris Ford? Fal. Mistris Ford, by my troth you are very wel met: by your leaue good Mistris

Mr.Page. Wife, bid these gentlemen welcome: come, we haue a hot Venison pasty to dinner; Come gentlemen, I hope we shall drinke downe all vnkindnesse

Slen. I had rather then forty shillings I had my booke of Songs and Sonnets heere: How now Simple, where haue you beene? I must wait on my selfe, must I? you haue not the booke of Riddles about you, haue you? Sim. Booke of Riddles? why did you not lend it to Alice Short-cake vpon Alhallowmas last, a fortnight afore Michaelmas

Shal. Come Coz, come Coz, we stay for you: a word with you Coz: marry this, Coz: there is as 'twere a tender, a kinde of tender, made a farre-off by Sir Hugh here: doe you vnderstand me? Slen. I Sir, you shall finde me reasonable; if it be so, I shall doe that that is reason

Shal. Nay, but vnderstand me

Slen. So I doe Sir

Euan. Giue eare to his motions; (Mr. Slender) I will description the matter to you, if you be capacity of it

Slen. Nay, I will doe as my Cozen Shallow saies: I pray you pardon me, he's a Iustice of Peace in his Countrie, simple though I stand here

Euan. But that is not the question: the question is concerning your marriage

Shal. I, there's the point Sir

Eu. Marry is it: the very point of it, to Mi[stris]. An Page

Slen. Why if it be so; I will marry her vpon any reasonable demands

Eu. But can you affection the 'oman, let vs command to know that of your mouth, or of your lips: for diuers Philosophers hold, that the lips is parcell of the mouth: therfore precisely, ca[n] you carry your good wil to y maid? Sh. Cosen Abraham Slender, can you loue her? Slen. I hope sir, I will do as it shall become one that would doe reason

Eu. Nay, got's Lords, and his Ladies, you must speake possitable, if you can carry-her your desires towards her

Shal. That you must: Will you, (vpon good dowry) marry her? Slen. I will doe a greater thing then that, vpon your request (Cosen) in any reason

Shal. Nay conceiue me, conceiue mee, (sweet Coz): What I doe is to pleasure you (Coz:) can you loue the maid? Slen. I will marry her (Sir) at your request; but if there bee no great loue in the beginning, yet Heauen may decrease it vpon better acquaintance, when wee are married, and haue more occasion to know one another: I hope vpon familiarity will grow more content: but if you say mary-her, I will mary-her, that I am freely dissolued, and dissolutely

Eu. It is a fery discretion-answere; saue the fall is in the 'ord, dissolutely: the ort is (according to our meaning) resolutely: his meaning is good

Sh. I: I thinke my Cosen meant well

Sl. I, or else I would I might be hang'd (la.) Sh. Here comes faire Mistris Anne; would I were yong for your sake, Mistris Anne

An. The dinner is on the Table, my Father desires your worships company

Sh. I will wait on him, (faire Mistris Anne.) Eu. Od's plessed-wil: I wil not be abse[n]ce at the grace

An. Wil't please your worship to come in, Sir? Sl. No, I thank you forsooth, hartely; I am very well

An. The dinner attends you, Sir

Sl. I am not a-hungry, I thanke you, forsooth: goe, Sirha, for all you are my man, goe wait vpon my Cosen Shallow: a Iustice of peace sometime may be beholding to his friend, for a Man; I keepe but three Men, and a Boy yet, till my Mother be dead: but what though, yet I liue like a poore Gentleman borne

An. I may not goe in without your worship: they will not sit till you come

Sl. I' faith, ile eate nothing: I thanke you as much as though I did

An. I pray you Sir walke in

Sl. I had rather walke here (I thanke you) I bruiz'd my shin th' other day, with playing at Sword and Dagger with a Master of Fence (three veneys for a dish of stew'd Prunes) and by my troth, I cannot abide the smell of hot meate since. Why doe your dogs barke so? be there Beares ith' Towne? An. I thinke there are, Sir, I heard them talk'd of

Sl. I loue the sport well, but I shall as soone quarrell at it, as any man in England: you are afraid if you see the Beare loose, are you not? An. I indeede Sir

Sl. That's meate and drinke to me now: I haue seene Saskerson loose, twenty times, and haue taken him by the Chaine: but (I warrant you) the women haue so cride and shrekt at it, that it past: But women indeede, cannot abide 'em, they are very ill-fauour'd rough things

Ma.Pa. Come, gentle M[aster]. Slender, come; we stay for you

Sl. Ile eate nothing, I thanke you Sir

Ma.Pa. By cocke and pie, you shall not choose, Sir: come, come

Sl. Nay, pray you lead the way

Ma.Pa. Come on, Sir

Sl. Mistris Anne: your selfe shall goe first

An. Not I Sir, pray you keepe on

Sl. Truely I will not goe first: truely-la: I will not doe you that wrong

An. I pray you Sir

Sl. Ile rather be vnmannerly, then troublesome: you doe your selfe wrong indeede-la.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Euans, and Simple.

Eu. Go your waies, and aske of Doctor Caius house, which is the way; and there dwels one Mistris Quickly; which is in the manner of his Nurse; or his dry-Nurse; or his Cooke; or his Laundry; his Washer, and his Ringer

Si. Well Sir

Eu. Nay, it is petter yet: giue her this letter; for it is a 'oman that altogeathers acquainta[n]ce with Mistris Anne Page; and the Letter is to desire, and require her to solicite your Masters desires, to Mistris Anne Page: I pray you be gon: I will make an end of my dinner; ther's Pippins and Cheese to come.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Falstaffe, Host, Bardolfe, Nym, Pistoll, Page.

Fal. Mine Host of the Garter? Ho. What saies my Bully Rooke? speake schollerly, and wisely

Fal. Truely mine Host; I must turne away some of my followers

Ho. Discard, (bully Hercules) casheere; let them wag; trot, trot

Fal. I sit at ten pounds a weeke

Ho. Thou'rt an Emperor (Cesar, Keiser and Pheazar) I will entertaine Bardolfe: he shall draw; he shall tap; said I well (bully Hector?) Fa. Doe so (good mine Host.) Ho. I haue spoke; let him follow; let me see thee froth, and liue: I am at a word: follow

Fal. Bardolfe, follow him: a Tapster is a good trade: an old Cloake, makes a new Ierkin: a wither'd Seruingman, a fresh Tapster: goe, adew

Ba. It is a life that I haue desir'd: I will thriue

Pist. O base hungarian wight: wilt y the spigot wield

Ni. He was gotten in drink: is not the humor co[n]ceited? Fal. I am glad I am so acquit of this Tinderbox: his Thefts were too open: his filching was like an vnskilfull Singer, he kept not time

Ni. The good humor is to steale at a minutes rest

Pist. Conuay: the wise it call: Steale? foh: a fico for the phrase

Fal. Well sirs, I am almost out at heeles

Pist. Why then let Kibes ensue

Fal. There is no remedy: I must conicatch, I must shift

Pist. Yong Rauens must haue foode

Fal. Which of you know Ford of this Towne? Pist. I ken the wight: he is of substance good

Fal. My honest Lads, I will tell you what I am about

Pist. Two yards, and more

Fal. No quips now Pistoll: (Indeede I am in the waste two yards about: but I am now about no waste: I am about thrift) briefely: I doe meane to make loue to Fords wife: I spie entertainment in her: shee discourses: shee carues: she giues the leere of inuitation: I can construe the action of her familier stile, & the hardest voice of her behauior (to be english'd rightly) is, I am Sir Iohn Falstafs

Pist. He hath studied her will; and translated her will: out of honesty, into English

Ni. The Anchor is deepe: will that humor passe? Fal. Now, the report goes, she has all the rule of her husbands Purse: he hath a legend of Angels

Pist. As many diuels entertaine: and to her Boy say I

Ni. The humor rises: it is good: humor me the angels

Fal. I haue writ me here a letter to her: & here another to Pages wife, who euen now gaue mee good eyes too; examind my parts with most iudicious illiads: sometimes the beame of her view, guilded my foote: sometimes my portly belly

Pist. Then did the Sun on dung-hill shine

Ni. I thanke thee for that humour

Fal. O she did so course o're my exteriors with such a greedy intention, that the appetite of her eye, did seeme to scorch me vp like a burning-glasse: here's another letter to her: She beares the Purse too: She is a Region in Guiana: all gold, and bountie: I will be Cheaters to them both, and they shall be Exchequers to mee: they shall be my East and West Indies, and I will trade to them both: Goe, beare thou this Letter to Mistris Page; and thou this to Mistris Ford: we will thriue (Lads) we will thriue

Pist. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become, And by my side weare Steele? then Lucifer take all

Ni. I will run no base humor: here take the humor-Letter; I will keepe the hauior of reputation

Fal. Hold Sirha, beare you these Letters tightly, Saile like my Pinnasse to these golden shores. Rogues, hence, auaunt, vanish like haile-stones; goe, Trudge; plod away ith' hoofe: seeke shelter, packe: Falstaffe will learne the honor of the age, French-thrift, you Rogues, my selfe, and skirted Page

Pist. Let Vultures gripe thy guts: for gourd, and Fullam holds: & high and low beguiles the rich & poore, Tester ile haue in pouch when thou shalt lacke, Base Phrygian Turke

Ni. I haue opperations, Which be humors of reuenge

Pist. Wilt thou reuenge? Ni. By Welkin, and her Star

Pist. With wit, or Steele? Ni. With both the humors, I: I will discusse the humour of this Loue to Ford

Pist. And I to Page shall eke vnfold How Falstaffe (varlet vile) His Doue will proue; his gold will hold, And his soft couch defile

Ni. My humour shall not coole: I will incense Ford to deale with poyson: I will possesse him with yallownesse, for the reuolt of mine is dangerous: that is my true humour

Pist. Thou art the Mars of Malecontents: I second thee: troope on.

Exeunt.

Scoena Quarta.

Enter Mistris Quickly, Simple, Iohn Rugby, Doctor, Caius, Fenton.

Qu. What, Iohn Rugby, I pray thee goe to the Casement, and see if you can see my Master, Master Docter Caius comming: if he doe (I' faith) and finde any body in the house; here will be an old abusing of Gods patience, and the Kings English

Ru. Ile goe watch

Qu. Goe, and we'll haue a posset for't soone at night, (in faith) at the latter end of a Sea-cole-fire: An honest, willing, kinde fellow, as euer seruant shall come in house withall: and I warrant you, no tel-tale, nor no breedebate: his worst fault is, that he is giuen to prayer; hee is something peeuish that way: but no body but has his fault: but let that passe. Peter Simple, you say your name is? Si. I: for fault of a better

Qu. And Master Slender's your Master? Si. I forsooth

Qu. Do's he not weare a great round Beard, like a Glouers pairing-knife? Si. No forsooth: he hath but a little wee-face; with a little yellow Beard: a Caine colourd Beard

Qu. A softly-sprighted man, is he not? Si. I forsooth: but he is as tall a man of his hands, as any is betweene this and his head: he hath fought with a Warrener

Qu. How say you: oh, I should remember him: do's he not hold vp his head (as it were?) and strut in his gate? Si. Yes indeede do's he

Qu. Well, heauen send Anne Page, no worse fortune: Tell Master Parson Euans, I will doe what I can for your Master: Anne is a good girle, and I wish - Ru. Out alas: here comes my Master

Qu. We shall all be shent: Run in here, good young man: goe into this Closset: he will not stay long: what Iohn Rugby? Iohn: what Iohn I say? goe Iohn, goe enquire for my Master, I doubt he be not well, that hee comes not home: (and downe, downe, adowne'a. &c

Ca. Vat is you sing? I doe not like des-toyes: pray you goe and vetch me in my Closset, vnboyteere verd; a Box, a greene-a-Box: do intend vat I speake? a greene-a-Box

Qu. I forsooth ile fetch it you: I am glad hee went not in himselfe: if he had found the yong man he would haue bin horne-mad

Ca. Fe, fe, fe, fe, mai foy, il fait for ehando, Ie man voi a le Court la grand affaires

Qu. Is it this Sir? Ca. Ouy mette le au mon pocket, depeech quickly: Vere is dat knaue Rugby? Qu. What Iohn Rugby, Iohn? Ru. Here Sir

Ca. You are Iohn Rugby, and you are Iacke Rugby: Come, take-a-your Rapier, and come after my heele to the Court

Ru. 'Tis ready Sir, here in the Porch

Ca. By my trot: I tarry too long: od's-me: que ay ie oublie: dere is some Simples in my Closset, dat I vill not for the varld I shall leaue behinde

Qu. Ay-me, he'll finde the yong man there, & be mad

Ca. O Diable, Diable: vat is in my Closset? Villanie, Laroone: Rugby, my Rapier

Qu. Good Master be content

Ca. Wherefore shall I be content-a? Qu. The yong man is an honest man

Ca. What shall de honest man do in my Closset: dere is no honest man dat shall come in my Closset

Qu. I beseech you be not so flegmaticke: heare the truth of it. He came of an errand to mee, from Parson Hugh

Ca. Vell

Si. I forsooth: to desire her to - Qu. Peace, I pray you

Ca. Peace-a-your tongue: speake-a-your Tale

Si. To desire this honest Gentlewoman (your Maid) to speake a good word to Mistris Anne Page, for my Master in the way of Marriage

Qu. This is all indeede-la: but ile nere put my finger in the fire, and neede not

Ca. Sir Hugh send-a you? Rugby, ballow mee some paper: tarry you a littell-a-while

Qui. I am glad he is so quiet: if he had bin throughly moued, you should haue heard him so loud, and so melancholly: but notwithstanding man, Ile doe yoe your Master what good I can: and the very yea, & the no is, y French Doctor my Master, (I may call him my Master, looke you, for I keepe his house; and I wash, ring, brew, bake, scowre, dresse meat and drinke, make the beds, and doe all my selfe.) Simp. 'Tis a great charge to come vnder one bodies hand

Qui. Are you auis'd o'that? you shall finde it a great charge: and to be vp early, and down late: but notwithstanding, (to tell you in your eare, I wold haue no words of it) my Master himselfe is in loue with Mistris Anne Page: but notwithstanding that I know Ans mind, that's neither heere nor there

Caius. You, Iack'Nape: giue-'a this Letter to Sir Hugh, by gar it is a shallenge: I will cut his troat in de Parke, and I will teach a scuruy Iackanape Priest to meddle, or make:- you may be gon: it is not good you tarry here: by gar I will cut all his two stones: by gar, he shall not haue a stone to throw at his dogge

Qui. Alas: he speakes but for his friend

Caius. It is no matter 'a ver dat: do not you tell-a-me dat I shall haue Anne Page for my selfe? by gar, I vill kill de Iack-Priest: and I haue appointed mine Host of de Iarteer to measure our weapon: by gar, I wil my selfe haue Anne Page

Qui. Sir, the maid loues you, and all shall bee well: We must giue folkes leaue to prate: what the goodier

Caius. Rugby, come to the Court with me: by gar, if I haue not Anne Page, I shall turne your head out of my dore: follow my heeles, Rugby

Qui. You shall haue An-fooles head of your owne: No, I know Ans mind for that: neuer a woman in Windsor knowes more of Ans minde then I doe, nor can doe more then I doe with her, I thanke heauen

Fenton. Who's with in there, hoa? Qui. Who's there, I troa? Come neere the house I pray you

Fen. How now (good woman) how dost thou? Qui. The better that it pleases your good Worship to aske? Fen. What newes? how do's pretty Mistris Anne? Qui. In truth Sir, and shee is pretty, and honest, and gentle, and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by the way, I praise heauen for it

Fen. Shall I doe any good thinkst thou? shall I not loose my suit? Qui. Troth Sir, all is in his hands aboue: but notwithstanding (Master Fenton) Ile be sworne on a booke shee loues you: haue not your Worship a wart aboue your eye? Fen. Yes marry haue I, what of that? Qui. Wel, thereby hangs a tale: good faith, it is such another Nan; (but (I detest) an honest maid as euer broke bread: wee had an howres talke of that wart; I shall neuer laugh but in that maids company: but (indeed) shee is giuen too much to Allicholy and musing: but for you - well - goe too - Fen. Well: I shall see her to day: hold, there's money for thee: Let mee haue thy voice in my behalfe: if thou seest her before me, commend me. - Qui. Will I? I faith that wee will: And I will tell your Worship more of the Wart, the next time we haue confidence, and of other wooers

Fen. Well, fare-well, I am in great haste now

Qui. Fare-well to your Worship: truely an honest Gentleman: but Anne loues him not: for I know Ans minde as well as another do's: out vpon't: what haue I forgot.

Enter.

Actus Secundus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Mistris Page, Mistris Ford, Master Page, Master Ford, Pistoll, Nim, Quickly, Host, Shallow.

Mist.Page. What, haue scap'd Loue-letters in the holly-day-time of my beauty, and am I now a subiect for them? let me see? Aske me no reason why I loue you, for though Loue vse Reason for his precisian, hee admits him not for his Counsailour: you are not yong, no more am I: goe to then, there's simpathie: you are merry, so am I: ha, ha, then there's more simpathie: you loue sacke, and so do I: would you desire better simpathie? Let it suffice thee (Mistris Page) at the least if the Loue of Souldier can suffice, that I loue thee: I will not say pitty mee, 'tis not a Souldier-like phrase; but I say, loue me: By me, thine owne true Knight, by day or night: Or any kinde of light, with all his might, For thee to fight. Iohn Falstaffe. What a Herod of Iurie is this? O wicked, wicked world: One that is well-nye worne to peeces with age To show himselfe a yong Gallant? What an vnwaied Behauiour hath this Flemish drunkard pickt (with The Deuills name) out of my conuersation, that he dares In this manner assay me? why, hee hath not beene thrice In my Company: what should I say to him? I was then Frugall of my mirth: (heauen forgiue mee:) why Ile Exhibit a Bill in the Parliament for the putting downe of men: how shall I be reueng'd on him? for reueng'd I will be? as sure as his guts are made of puddings

Mis.Ford. Mistris Page, trust me, I was going to your house

Mis.Page. And trust me, I was comming to you: you looke very ill

Mis.Ford. Nay Ile nere beleeue that; I haue to shew to the contrary

Mis.Page. 'Faith but you doe in my minde

Mis.Ford. Well: I doe then: yet I say, I could shew you to the contrary: O Mistris Page, giue mee some counsaile

Mis.Page. What's the matter, woman? Mi.Ford. O woman: if it were not for one trifling respect, I could come to such honour

Mi.Page. Hang the trifle (woman) take the honour: what is it? dispence with trifles: what is it? Mi.Ford. If I would but goe to hell, for an eternall moment, or so: I could be knighted

Mi.Page. What thou liest? Sir Alice Ford? these Knights will hacke, and so thou shouldst not alter the article of thy Gentry

Mi.Ford. Wee burne day-light: heere, read, read: perceiue how I might bee knighted, I shall thinke the worse of fat men, as long as I haue an eye to make difference of mens liking: and yet hee would not sweare: praise womens modesty: and gaue such orderly and welbehaued reproofe to al vncomelinesse, that I would haue sworne his disposition would haue gone to the truth of his words: but they doe no more adhere and keep place together, then the hundred Psalms to the tune of Greensleeues: What tempest (I troa) threw this Whale, (with so many Tuns of oyle in his belly) a'shoare at Windsor? How shall I bee reuenged on him? I thinke the best way were, to entertaine him with hope, till the wicked fire of lust haue melted him in his owne greace: Did you euer heare the like? Mis.Page. Letter for letter; but that the name of Page and Ford differs: to thy great comfort in this mystery of ill opinions, heere's the twyn-brother of thy Letter: but let thine inherit first, for I protest mine neuer shall: I warrant he hath a thousand of these Letters, writ with blancke-space for different names (sure more): and these are of the second edition: hee will print them out of doubt: for he cares not what hee puts into the presse, when he would put vs two: I had rather be a Giantesse, and lye vnder Mount Pelion: Well; I will find you twentie lasciuious Turtles ere one chaste man

Mis.Ford. Why this is the very same: the very hand: the very words: what doth he thinke of vs? Mis.Page. Nay I know not: it makes me almost readie to wrangle with mine owne honesty: Ile entertaine my selfe like one that I am not acquainted withall: for sure vnlesse hee know some straine in mee, that I know not my selfe, hee would neuer haue boorded me in this furie

Mi.Ford. Boording, call you it? Ile bee sure to keepe him aboue decke

Mi.Page. So will I: if hee come vnder my hatches, Ile neuer to Sea againe: Let's bee reueng'd on him: let's appoint him a meeting: giue him a show of comfort in his Suit, and lead him on with a fine baited delay, till hee hath pawn'd his horses to mine Host of the Garter

Mi.Ford. Nay, I wil consent to act any villany against him, that may not sully the charinesse of our honesty: oh that my husband saw this Letter: it would giue eternall food to his iealousie

Mis.Page. Why look where he comes; and my good man too: hee's as farre from iealousie, as I am from giuing him cause, and that (I hope) is an vnmeasurable distance

Mis.Ford. You are the happier woman

Mis.Page. Let's consult together against this greasie Knight: Come hither

Ford. Well: I hope, it be not so

Pist. Hope is a curtall-dog in some affaires: Sir Iohn affects thy wife

Ford. Why sir, my wife is not young

Pist. He wooes both high and low, both rich & poor, both yong and old, one with another (Ford) he loues the Gally-mawfry (Ford) perpend

Ford. Loue my wife? Pist. With liuer, burning hot: preuent: Or goe thou like Sir Acteon he, with Ring-wood at thy heeles: O, odious is the name

Ford. What name Sir? Pist. The horne I say: Farewell: Take heed, haue open eye, for theeues doe foot by night. Take heed, ere sommer comes, or Cuckoo-birds do sing. Away sir Corporall Nim: Beleeue it (Page) he speakes sence

Ford. I will be patient: I will find out this

Nim. And this is true: I like not the humor of lying: hee hath wronged mee in some humors: I should haue borne the humour'd Letter to her: but I haue a sword: and it shall bite vpon my necessitie: he loues your wife; There's the short and the long: My name is Corporall Nim: I speak, and I auouch; 'tis true: my name is Nim: and Falstaffe loues your wife: adieu, I loue not the humour of bread and cheese: adieu

Page. The humour of it (quoth 'a?) heere's a fellow frights English out of his wits

Ford. I will seeke out Falstaffe

Page. I neuer heard such a drawling-affecting rogue

Ford. If I doe finde it: well

Page. I will not beleeue such a Cataian, though the Priest o' th' Towne commended him for a true man

Ford. 'Twas a good sensible fellow: well

Page. How now Meg? Mist.Page. Whether goe you (George?) harke you

Mis.Ford. How now (sweet Frank) why art thou melancholy? Ford. I melancholy? I am not melancholy: Get you home: goe

Mis.Ford. Faith, thou hast some crochets in thy head, Now: will you goe, Mistris Page? Mis.Page. Haue with you: you'll come to dinner George? Looke who comes yonder: shee shall bee our Messenger to this paltrie Knight

Mis.Ford. Trust me, I thought on her: shee'll fit it

Mis.Page. You are come to see my daughter Anne? Qui. I forsooth: and I pray how do's good Mistresse Anne? Mis.Page. Go in with vs and see: we haue an houres talke with you

Page. How now Master Ford? For. You heard what this knaue told me, did you not? Page. Yes, and you heard what the other told me? Ford. Doe you thinke there is truth in them? Pag. Hang 'em slaues: I doe not thinke the Knight would offer it: But these that accuse him in his intent towards our wiues, are a yoake of his discarded men: very rogues, now they be out of seruice

Ford. Were they his men? Page. Marry were they

Ford. I like it neuer the beter for that, Do's he lye at the Garter? Page. I marry do's he: if hee should intend this voyage toward my wife, I would turne her loose to him; and what hee gets more of her, then sharpe words, let it lye on my head

Ford. I doe not misdoubt my wife: but I would bee loath to turne them together: a man may be too confident: I would haue nothing lye on my head: I cannot be thus satisfied

Page. Looke where my ranting-Host of the Garter comes: there is eyther liquor in his pate, or mony in his purse, when hee lookes so merrily: How now mine Host? Host. How now Bully-Rooke: thou'rt a Gentleman Caueleiro Iustice, I say

Shal. I follow, (mine Host) I follow: Good-euen, and twenty (good Master Page.) Master Page, wil you go with vs? we haue sport in hand

Host. Tell him Caueleiro-Iustice: tell him Bully-Rooke

Shall. Sir, there is a fray to be fought, betweene Sir Hugh the Welch Priest, and Caius the French Doctor

Ford. Good mine Host o'th' Garter: a word with you

Host. What saist thou, my Bully-Rooke? Shal. Will you goe with vs to behold it? My merry Host hath had the measuring of their weapons; and (I thinke) hath appointed them contrary places: for (beleeue mee) I heare the Parson is no Iester: harke, I will tell you what our sport shall be

Host. Hast thou no suit against my Knight? my guest-Caualeire? Shal. None, I protest: but Ile giue you a pottle of burn'd sacke, to giue me recourse to him, and tell him my name is Broome: onely for a iest

Host. My hand, (Bully:) thou shalt haue egresse and regresse, (said I well?) and thy name shall be Broome. It is a merry Knight: will you goe An-heires? Shal. Haue with you mine Host

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

Shal. Tut sir: I could haue told you more: In these times you stand on distance: your Passes, Stoccado's, and I know not what: 'tis the heart (Master Page) 'tis heere, 'tis heere: I haue seene the time, with my long-sword, I would haue made you fowre tall fellowes skippe like Rattes

Host. Heere boyes, heere, heere: shall we wag? Page. Haue with you: I had rather heare them scold, then fight

Ford. Though Page be a secure foole, and stands so firmely on his wiues frailty; yet, I cannot put-off my opinion so easily: she was in his company at Pages house: and what they made there, I know not. Well, I wil looke further into't, and I haue a disguise, to sound Falstaffe; if I finde her honest, I loose not my labor: if she be otherwise, 'tis labour well bestowed.

Exeunt.

Scoena Secunda.

Enter Falstaffe, Pistoll, Robin, Quickly, Bardolffe, Ford.

Fal. I will not lend thee a penny

Pist. Why then the world's mine Oyster, which I, with sword will open

Fal. Not a penny: I haue beene content (Sir,) you should lay my countenance to pawne: I haue grated vpon my good friends for three Repreeues for you, and your Coach-fellow Nim; or else you had look'd through the grate, like a Geminy of Baboones: I am damn'd in hell, for swearing to Gentlemen my friends, you were good Souldiers, and tall-fellowes. And when Mistresse Briget lost the handle of her Fan, I took't vpon mine honour thou hadst it not

Pist. Didst not thou share? hadst thou not fifteene pence? Fal. Reason, you roague, reason: thinkst thou Ile endanger my soule, gratis? at a word, hang no more about mee, I am no gibbet for you: goe, a short knife, and a throng, to your Mannor of Pickt-hatch: goe, you'll not beare a Letter for mee you roague? you stand vpon your honor: why, (thou vnconfinable basenesse) it is as much as I can doe to keepe the termes of my honor precise: I, I, I my selfe sometimes, leauing the feare of heauen on the left hand, and hiding mine honor in my necessity, am faine to shufflle: to hedge, and to lurch, and yet, you Rogue, will en-sconce your raggs; your Cat-a-Mountaine-lookes, your red-lattice phrases, and your boldbeating-oathes, vnder the shelter of your honor? you will not doe it? you?

Pist. I doe relent: what would thou more of man?

Robin. Sir, here's a woman would speake with you

Fal. Let her approach

Qui. Giue your worship good morrow

Fal. Good-morrow, good-wife

Qui. Not so, and't please your worship

Fal. Good maid then

Qui. Ile be sworne, As my mother was the first houre I was borne

Fal. I doe beleeue the swearer; what with me?

Qui. Shall I vouch-safe your worship a word, or two?

Fal. Two thousand (faire woman) and ile vouchsafe thee the hearing

Qui. There is one Mistresse Ford, (Sir) I pray come a little neerer this waies: I my selfe dwell with M[aster]. Doctor Caius: Fal. Well, on; Mistresse Ford, you say

Qui. Your worship saies very true: I pray your worship come a little neerer this waies

Fal. I warrant thee, no-bodie heares: mine owne people, mine owne people

Qui. Are they so? heauen-blesse them, and make them his Seruants

Fal. Well; Mistresse Ford, what of her?

Qui. Why, Sir; shee's a good-creature; Lord, Lord, your Worship's a wanton: well: heauen forgiue you, and all of vs, I pray -

Fal. Mistresse Ford: come, Mistresse Ford

Qui. Marry this is the short, and the long of it: you haue brought her into such a Canaries, as 'tis wonderfull: the best Courtier of them all (when the Court lay at Windsor) could neuer haue brought her to such a Canarie: yet there has beene Knights, and Lords, and Gentlemen, with their Coaches; I warrant you Coach after Coach, letter after letter, gift after gift, smelling so sweetly; all Muske, and so rushling, I warrant you, in silke and golde, and in such alligant termes, and in such wine and suger of the best, and the fairest, that would haue wonne any womans heart: and I warrant you, they could neuer get an eye-winke of her: I had my selfe twentie Angels giuen me this morning, but I defie all Angels (in any such sort, as they say) but in the way of honesty: and I warrant you, they could neuer get her so much as sippe on a cup with the prowdest of them all, and yet there has beene Earles: nay, (which is more) Pentioners, but I warrant you all is one with her

Fal. But what saies shee to mee? be briefe my good sheeMercurie

Qui. Marry, she hath receiu'd your Letter: for the which she thankes you a thousand times; and she giues you to notifie, that her husband will be absence from his house, betweene ten and eleuen

Fal. Ten, and eleuen

Qui. I, forsooth: and then you may come and see the picture (she sayes) that you wot of: Master Ford her husband will be from home: alas, the sweet woman leades an ill life with him: hee's a very iealousie-man; she leads a very frampold life with him, (good hart.)

Fal. Ten, and eleuen. Woman, commend me to her, I will not faile her

Qui. Why, you say well: But I haue another messenger to your worship: Mistresse Page hath her heartie commendations to you to: and let mee tell you in your eare, shee's as fartuous a ciuill modest wife, and one (I tell you) that will not misse you morning nor euening prayer, as any is in Windsor, who ere bee the other: and shee bade me tell your worship, that her husband is seldome from home, but she hopes there will come a time. I neuer knew a woman so doate vpon a man; surely I thinke you haue charmes, la: yes in truth

Fal. Not I, I assure thee; setting the attraction of my good parts aside, I haue no other charmes

Qui. Blessing on your heart for't

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

Qui. That were a iest indeed: they haue not so little grace I hope, that were a tricke indeed: But Mistris Page would desire you to send her your little Page of al loues: her husband has a maruellous infectio[n] to the little Page: and truely Master Page is an honest man: neuer a wife in Windsor leades a better life then she do's: doe what shee will, say what she will, take all, pay all, goe to bed when she list, rise when she list, all is as she will: and truly she deserues it; for if there be a kinde woman in Windsor, she is one: you must send her your Page, no remedie

Fal. Why, I will

Qu. Nay, but doe so then, and looke you, hee may come and goe betweene you both: and in any case haue a nay-word, that you may know one anothers minde, and the Boy neuer neede to vnderstand any thing; for 'tis not good that children should know any wickednes: olde folkes you know, haue discretion, as they say, and know the world

Fal. Farethee-well, commend mee to them both: there's my purse, I am yet thy debter: Boy, goe along with this woman, this newes distracts me

Pist. This Puncke is one of Cupids Carriers, Clap on more sailes, pursue: vp with your sights: Giue fire: she is my prize, or Ocean whelme them all

Fal. Saist thou so (old Iacke) go thy waies: Ile make more of thy olde body then I haue done: will they yet looke after thee? wilt thou after the expence of so much money, be now a gainer? good Body, I thanke thee: let them say 'tis grossely done, so it bee fairely done, no matter

Bar. Sir Iohn, there's one Master Broome below would faine speake with you, and be acquainted with you; and hath sent your worship a mornings draught of Sacke

Fal. Broome is his name?

Bar. I Sir

Fal. Call him in: such Broomes are welcome to mee, that ore'flowes such liquor: ah ha, Mistresse Ford and Mistresse Page, haue I encompass'd you? goe to, via

Ford. 'Blesse you sir

Fal. And you sir: would you speake with me?

Ford. I make bold, to presse, with so little preparation vpon you

Fal. You'r welcome, what's your will? giue vs leaue Drawer

Ford. Sir, I am a Gentleman that haue spent much, my name is Broome

Fal. Good Master Broome, I desire more acquaintance of you

Ford. Good Sir Iohn, I sue for yours: not to charge you, for I must let you vnderstand, I thinke my selfe in better plight for a Lender, then you are: the which hath something emboldned me to this vnseason'd intrusion: for they say, if money goe before, all waies doe lye open

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

Ford. Troth, and I haue a bag of money heere troubles me: if you will helpe to beare it (Sir Iohn) take all, or halfe, for easing me of the carriage

Fal. Sir, I know not how I may deserue to bee your Porter

Ford. I will tell you sir, if you will giue mee the hearing

Fal. Speake (good Master Broome) I shall be glad to be your Seruant

Ford. Sir, I heare you are a Scholler: (I will be briefe with you) and you haue been a man long knowne to me, though I had neuer so good means as desire, to make my selfe acquainted with you. I shall discouer a thing to you, wherein I must very much lay open mine owne imperfection: but (good Sir Iohn) as you haue one eye vpon my follies, as you heare them vnfolded, turne another into the Register of your owne, that I may passe with a reproofe the easier, sith you your selfe know how easie it is to be such an offender

Fal. Very well Sir, proceed

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

Fal. Well Sir

Ford. I haue long lou'd her, and I protest to you, bestowed much on her: followed her with a doating obseruance: Ingross'd opportunities to meete her: fee'd euery slight occasion that could but nigardly giue mee sight of her: not only bought many presents to giue her, but haue giuen largely to many, to know what shee would haue giuen: briefly, I haue pursu'd her, as Loue hath pursued mee, which hath beene on the wing of all occasions: but whatsoeuer I haue merited, either in my minde, or in my meanes, meede I am sure I haue receiued none, vnlesse Experience be a Iewell, that I haue purchased at an infinite rate, and that hath taught mee to say this, ``Loue like a shadow flies, when substance Loue pursues, ``Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues

Fal. Haue you receiu'd no promise of satisfaction at her hands? Ford. Neuer

Fal. Haue you importun'd her to such a purpose? Ford. Neuer

Fal. Of what qualitie was your loue then? Ford. Like a fair house, built on another mans ground, so that I haue lost my edifice, by mistaking the place, where I erected it

Fal. To what purpose haue you vnfolded this to me? For. When I haue told you that, I haue told you all: Some say, that though she appeare honest to mee, yet in other places shee enlargeth her mirth so farre, that there is shrewd construction made of her. Now (Sir Iohn) here is the heart of my purpose: you are a gentleman of excellent breeding, admirable discourse, of great admittance, authenticke in your place and person, generally allow'd for your many war-like, court-like, and learned preparations

Fal. O Sir

Ford. Beleeue it, for you know it: there is money, spend it, spend it, spend more; spend all I haue, onely giue me so much of your time in enchange of it, as to lay an amiable siege to the honesty of this Fords wife: vse your Art of wooing; win her to consent to you: if any man may, you may as soone as any

Fal. Would it apply well to the vehemency of your affection that I should win what you would enioy? Methinkes you prescribe to your selfe very preposterously

Ford. O, vnderstand my drift: she dwells so securely on the excellency of her honor, that the folly of my soule dares not present it selfe: shee is too bright to be look'd against. Now, could I come to her with any detection in my hand; my desires had instance and argument to commend themselues, I could driue her then from the ward of her purity, her reputation, her marriage-vow, and a thousand other her defences, which now are tootoo strongly embattaild against me: what say you too't, Sir Iohn? Fal. Master Broome, I will first make bold with your money: next, giue mee your hand: and last, as I am a gentleman, you shall, if you will, enioy Fords wife

Ford. O good Sir

Fal. I say you shall

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

Fal. Want no Mistresse Ford (Master Broome) you shall want none: I shall be with her (I may tell you) by her owne appointment, euen as you came in to me, her assistant, or goe-betweene, parted from me: I say I shall be with her betweene ten and eleuen: for at that time the iealious-rascally-knaue her husband will be forth: come you to me at night, you shall know how I speed

Ford. I am blest in your acquaintance: do you know Ford Sir? Fal. Hang him (poore Cuckoldly knaue) I know him not: yet I wrong him to call him poore: They say the iealous wittolly-knaue hath masses of money, for the which his wife seemes to me well-fauourd: I will vse her as the key of the Cuckoldly-rogues Coffer, & ther's my haruest-home

Ford. I would you knew Ford, sir, that you might auoid him, if you saw him

Fal. Hang him, mechanicall-salt-butter rogue; I wil stare him out of his wits: I will awe-him with my cudgell: it shall hang like a Meteor ore the Cuckolds horns: Master Broome, thou shalt know, I will predominate ouer the pezant, and thou shalt lye with his wife. Come to me soone at night: Ford's a knaue, and I will aggrauate his stile: thou (Master Broome) shalt know him for knaue, and Cuckold. Come to me soone at night

Ford. What a damn'd Epicurian-Rascall is this? my heart is ready to cracke with impatience: who saies this is improuident iealousie? my wife hath sent to him, the howre is fixt, the match is made: would any man haue thought this? see the hell of hauing a false woman: my bed shall be abus'd, my Coffers ransack'd, my reputation gnawne at, and I shall not onely receiue this villanous wrong, but stand vnder the adoption of abhominable termes, and by him that does mee this wrong: Termes, names: Amaimon sounds well: Lucifer, well: Barbason, well: yet they are Diuels additions, the names of fiends: But Cuckold, Wittoll, Cuckold? the Diuell himselfe hath not such a name. Page is an Asse, a secure Asse; hee will trust his wife, hee will not be iealous: I will rather trust a Fleming with my butter, Parson Hugh the Welshman with my Cheese, an Irish-man with my Aqua-vitae-bottle, or a Theefe to walke my ambling gelding, then my wife with her selfe. Then she plots, then shee ruminates, then shee deuises: and what they thinke in their hearts they may effect; they will breake their hearts but they will effect. Heauen bee prais'd for my iealousie: eleuen o' clocke the howre, I will preuent this, detect my wife, bee reueng'd on Falstaffe, and laugh at Page. I will about it, better three houres too soone, then a mynute too late: fie, fie, fie: Cuckold, Cuckold, Cuckold.

Enter.

Scena Tertia.

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

Caius. Iacke Rugby

Rug. Sir

Caius. Vat is the clocke, Iack

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

Cai. By gar, he has saue his soule, dat he is no-come: hee has pray his Pible well, dat he is no-come: by gar (Iack Rugby) he is dead already, if he be come

Rug. Hee is wise Sir: hee knew your worship would kill him if he came

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

Rug. Alas sir, I cannot fence

Cai. Villaine, take your Rapier

Rug. Forbeare: heer's company

Host. 'Blesse thee, bully-Doctor

Shal. 'Saue you Mr. Doctor Caius

Page. Now good Mr. Doctor

Slen. 'Giue you good-morrow, sir

Caius. Vat be all you one, two, tree, fowre, come for? Host. To see thee fight, to see thee foigne, to see thee trauerse, to see thee heere, to see thee there, to see thee passe thy puncto, thy stock, thy reuerse, thy distance, thy montant: Is he dead, my Ethiopian? Is he dead, my Francisco? ha Bully? what saies my Esculapius? my Galien? my heart of Elder? ha? is he dead bully-Stale? is he dead? Cai. By gar, he is de Coward-Iack-Priest of de vorld: he is not show his face

Host. Thou art a Castalion-king-Vrinall: Hector of Greece (my Boy) Cai. I pray you beare witnesse, that me haue stay, sixe or seuen, two tree howres for him, and hee is nocome

Shal. He is the wiser man (M[aster]. Doctor) he is a curer of soules, and you a curer of bodies: if you should fight, you goe against the haire of your professions: is it not true, Master Page? Page. Master Shallow; you haue your selfe beene a great fighter, though now a man of peace

Shal. Body-kins M[aster]. Page, though I now be old, and of the peace; if I see a sword out, my finger itches to make one: though wee are Iustices, and Doctors, and Church-men (M[aster]. Page) wee haue some salt of our youth in vs, we are the sons of women (M[aster]. Page.) Page. 'Tis true, Mr. Shallow

Shal. It wil be found so, (M[aster]. Page:) M[aster]. Doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you home: I am sworn of the peace: you haue show'd your selfe a wise Physician, and Sir Hugh hath showne himselfe a wise and patient Churchman: you must goe with me, M[aster]. Doctor

Host. Pardon, Guest-Iustice; a Mounseur Mocke-water

Cai. Mock-vater? vat is dat? Host. Mock-water, in our English tongue, is Valour (Bully.) Cai. By gar, then I haue as much Mock-vater as de Englishman: scuruy-Iack-dog-Priest: by gar, mee vill cut his eares

Host. He will Clapper-claw thee tightly (Bully.) Cai. Clapper-de-claw? vat is dat? Host. That is, he will make thee amends

Cai. By-gar, me doe looke hee shall clapper-de-claw me, for by-gar, me vill haue it

Host. And I will prouoke him to't, or let him wag

Cai. Me tanck you for dat

Host. And moreouer, (Bully) but first, Mr. Ghuest, and M[aster]. Page, & eeke Caualeiro Slender, goe you through the Towne to Frogmore

Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he? Host. He is there, see what humor he is in: and I will bring the Doctor about by the Fields: will it doe well? Shal. We will doe it

All. Adieu, good M[aster]. Doctor

Cai. By-gar, me vill kill de Priest, for he speake for a Iack-an-Ape to Anne Page

Host. Let him die: sheath thy impatience: throw cold water on thy Choller: goe about the fields with mee through Frogmore, I will bring thee where Mistris Anne Page is, at a Farm-house a Feasting: and thou shalt wooe her: Cride-game, said I well? Cai. By-gar, mee dancke you vor dat: by gar I loue you: and I shall procure 'a you de good Guest: de Earle, de Knight, de Lords, de Gentlemen, my patients

Host. For the which, I will be thy aduersary toward Anne Page: said I well? Cai. By-gar, 'tis good: vell said

Host. Let vs wag then

Cai. Come at my heeles, Iack Rugby.

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius. Scoena Prima.

Enter Euans, Simple, Page, Shallow, Slender, Host, Caius, Rugby.

Euans. I pray you now, good Master Slenders seruingman, and friend Simple by your name; which way haue you look'd for Master Caius, that calls himselfe Doctor of Phisicke

Sim. Marry Sir, the pittie-ward, the Parke-ward: euery way: olde Windsor way, and euery way but the Towne-way

Euan. I most fehemently desire you, you will also looke that way

Sim. I will sir

Euan. 'Plesse my soule: how full of Chollors I am, and trempling of minde: I shall be glad if he haue deceiued me: how melancholies I am? I will knog his Vrinalls about his knaues costard, when I haue good oportunities for the orke: 'Plesse my soule: To shallow Riuers to whose falls: melodious Birds sings Madrigalls: There will we make our Peds of Roses: and a thousand fragrant posies. To shallow: 'Mercie on mee, I haue a great dispositions to cry. Melodious birds sing Madrigalls: - When as I sat in Pabilon: and a thousand vagram Posies. To shallow, &c

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

Euan. Hee's welcome: To shallow Riuers, to whose fals: Heauen prosper the right: what weapons is he? Sim. No weapons, Sir: there comes my Master, Mr. Shallow, and another Gentleman; from Frogmore, ouer the stile, this way

Euan. Pray you giue mee my gowne, or else keepe it in your armes

Shal. How now Master Parson? good morrow good Sir Hugh: keepe a Gamester from the dice, and a good Studient from his booke, and it is wonderfull

Slen. Ah sweet Anne Page

Page. 'Saue you, good Sir Hugh

Euan. 'Plesse you from his mercy-sake, all of you

Shal. What? the Sword, and the Word? Doe you study them both, Mr. Parson? Page. And youthfull still, in your doublet and hose, this raw-rumaticke day? Euan. There is reasons, and causes for it

Page. We are come to you, to doe a good office, Mr. Parson

Euan. Fery-well: what is it? Page. Yonder is a most reuerend Gentleman; who (be-like) hauing receiued wrong by some person, is at most odds with his owne grauity and patience, that euer you saw

Shal. I haue liued foure-score yeeres, and vpward: I neuer heard a man of his place, grauity, and learning, so wide of his owne respect

Euan. What is he? Page. I thinke you know him: Mr. Doctor Caius the renowned French Physician

Euan. Got's-will, and his passion of my heart: I had as lief you would tell me of a messe of porredge

Page. Why? Euan. He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and Galen , and hee is a knaue besides: a cowardly knaue, as you would desires to be acquainted withall

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

Slen. O sweet Anne Page

Shal. It appeares so by his weapons: keepe them asunder: here comes Doctor Caius

Page. Nay good Mr. Parson, keepe in your weapon

Shal. So doe you, good Mr. Doctor

Host. Disarme them, and let them question: let them keepe their limbs whole, and hack our English

Cai. I pray you let-a-mee speake a word with your eare; vherefore vill you not meet-a me? Euan. Pray you vse your patience in good time

Cai. By-gar, you are de Coward: de Iack dog: Iohn Ape

Euan. Pray you let vs not be laughing-stocks to other mens humors: I desire you in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends: I will knog your Vrinal about your knaues Cogs-combe

Cai. Diable: Iack Rugby: mine Host de Iarteer: haue I not stay for him, to kill him? haue I not at de place I did appoint? Euan. As I am a Christians-soule, now looke you: this is the place appointed, Ile bee iudgement by mine Host of the Garter

Host. Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaule, French & Welch, Soule-Curer, and Body-Curer

Cai. I, dat is very good, excellant

Host. Peace, I say: heare mine Host of the Garter, Am I politicke? Am I subtle? Am I a Machiuell? Shall I loose my Doctor? No, hee giues me the Potions and the Motions. Shall I loose my Parson? my Priest? my Sir Hugh? No, he giues me the Prouerbes, and the No-verbes. Giue me thy hand (Celestiall) so: Boyes of Art, I haue deceiu'd you both: I haue directed you to wrong places: your hearts are mighty, your skinnes are whole, and let burn'd Sacke be the issue: Come, lay their swords to pawne: Follow me, Lad of peace, follow, follow, follow

Shal. Trust me, a mad Host: follow Gentlemen, follow

Slen. O sweet Anne Page

Cai. Ha' do I perceiue dat? Haue you make-a-de-sot of vs, ha, ha? Eua. This is well, he has made vs his vlowting-stog: I desire you that we may be friends: and let vs knog our praines together to be reuenge on this same scall scuruy-cogging-companion the Host of the Garter

Cai. By gar, with all my heart: he promise to bring me where is Anne Page: by gar he deceiue me too

Euan. Well, I will smite his noddles: pray you follow.

Scena Secunda.

Mist.Page, Robin, Ford, Page, Shallow, Slender, Host, Euans, Caius.

Mist.Page. Nay keepe your way (little Gallant) you were wont to be a follower, but now you are a Leader: whether had you rather lead mine eyes, or eye your masters heeles? Rob. I had rather (forsooth) go before you like a man, then follow him like a dwarfe

M.Pa. O you are a flattering boy, now I see you'l be a (Courtier

Ford. Well met mistris Page, whether go you

M.Pa. Truly Sir, to see your wife, is she at home? Ford. I, and as idle as she may hang together for want of company: I thinke if your husbands were dead, you two would marry

M.Pa. Be sure of that, two other husbands

Ford. Where had you this pretty weather-cocke? M.Pa. I cannot tell what (the dickens) his name is my husband had him of, what do you cal your Knights name sirrah? Rob. Sir Iohn Falstaffe

Ford. Sir Iohn Falstaffe

M.Pa. He, he, I can neuer hit on's name; there is such a league betweene my goodman, and he: is your Wife at home indeed? Ford. Indeed she is

M.Pa. By your leaue sir, I am sicke till I see her

Ford. Has Page any braines? Hath he any eies? Hath he any thinking? Sure they sleepe, he hath no vse of them: why this boy will carrie a letter twentie mile as easie, as a Canon will shoot point-blanke twelue score: hee peeces out his wiues inclination: he giues her folly motion and aduantage: and now she's going to my wife, & Falstaffes boy with her: A man may heare this showre sing in the winde; and Falstaffes boy with her: good plots, they are laide, and our reuolted wiues share damnation together. Well, I will take him, then torture my wife, plucke the borrowed vaile of modestie from the so-seeming Mist[ris]. Page, divulge Page himselfe for a secure and wilfull Acteon, and to these violent proceedings all my neighbors shall cry aime. The clocke giues me my Qu, and my assurance bids me search, there I shall finde Falstaffe: I shall be rather praisd for this, then mock'd, for it is as possitiue, as the earth is firme, that Falstaffe is there: I will go

Shal. Page, &c. Well met Mr Ford

Ford. Trust me, a good knotte; I haue good cheere at home, and I pray you all go with me

Shal. I must excuse my selfe Mr Ford

Slen. And so must I Sir, We haue appointed to dine with Mistris Anne, And I would not breake with her for more mony Then Ile speake of

Shal. We haue linger'd about a match betweene An Page, and my cozen Slender, and this day wee shall haue our answer

Slen. I hope I haue your good will Father Page

Pag. You haue Mr Slender, I stand wholly for you, But my wife (Mr Doctor) is for you altogether

Cai. I be-gar, and de Maid is loue-a-me: my nursh-a-Quickly tell me so mush

Host. What say you to yong Mr Fenton? He capers, he dances, he has eies of youth: he writes verses, hee speakes holliday, he smels April and May, he wil carry't, he will carry't, 'tis in his buttons, he will carry't

Page. Not by my consent I promise you. The Gentleman is of no hauing, hee kept companie with the wilde Prince, and Pointz: he is of too high a Region, he knows too much: no, hee shall not knit a knot in his fortunes, with the finger of my substance: if he take her, let him take her simply: the wealth I haue waits on my consent, and my consent goes not that way

Ford. I beseech you heartily, some of you goe home with me to dinner: besides your cheere you shall haue sport, I will shew you a monster: Mr Doctor, you shal go, so shall you Mr Page, and you Sir Hugh

Shal. Well, fare you well: We shall haue the freer woing at Mr Pages

Cai. Go home Iohn Rugby, I come anon

Host. Farewell my hearts, I will to my honest Knight Falstaffe, and drinke Canarie with him

Ford. I thinke I shall drinke in Pipe-wine first with him, Ile make him dance. Will you go Gentles? All. Haue with you, to see this Monster.

Scena Tertia.

Enter M.Ford, M.Page, Seruants, Robin, Falstaffe, Ford, Page, Caius, Euans.

Mist.Ford. What Iohn, what Robert

M.Page. Quickly, quickly: Is the Buck-basket - Mis.Ford. I warrant. What Robin I say

Mis.Page. Come, come, come

Mist.Ford. Heere, set it downe

M.Pag. Giue your men the charge, we must be briefe

M.Ford. Marrie, as I told you before (Iohn & Robert) be ready here hard-by in the Brew-house, & when I sodainly call you, come forth, and (without any pause, or staggering) take this basket on your shoulders: y done, trudge with it in all hast, and carry it among the Whitsters in Dotchet Mead, and there empty it in the muddie ditch, close by the Thames side

M.Page. You will do it? M.Ford. I ha told them ouer and ouer, they lacke no direction. Be gone, and come when you are call'd

M.Page. Here comes little Robin

Mist.Ford. How now my Eyas-Musket, what newes with you? Rob. My M[aster]. Sir Iohn is come in at your backe doore (Mist[ris]. Ford, and requests your company

M.Page. You litle Iack-a-lent, haue you bin true to vs Rob. I, Ile be sworne: my Master knowes not of your being heere: and hath threatned to put me into euerlasting liberty, if I tell you of it: for he sweares he'll turne me away

Mist.Pag. Thou'rt a good boy: this secrecy of thine shall be a Tailor to thee, and shal make thee a new doublet and hose. Ile go hide me

Mi.Ford. Do so: go tell thy Master, I am alone: Mistris Page, remember you your Qu

Mist.Pag. I warrant thee, if I do not act it, hisse me

Mist.Ford. Go-too then: we'l vse this vnwholsome humidity, this grosse-watry Pumpion; we'll teach him to know Turtles from Iayes

Fal. Haue I caught thee, my heauenly Iewell? Why now let me die, for I haue liu'd long enough: This is the period of my ambition: O this blessed houre

Mist.Ford. O sweet Sir Iohn

Fal. Mistris Ford, I cannot cog, I cannot prate (Mist[ris]. Ford) now shall I sin in my wish; I would thy Husband were dead, Ile speake it before the best Lord, I would make thee my Lady

Mist.Ford. I your Lady Sir Iohn? Alas, I should bee a pittifull Lady

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

Mist.Ford. A plaine Kerchiefe, Sir Iohn: My browes become nothing else, nor that well neither

Fal. Thou art a tyrant to say so: thou wouldst make an absolute Courtier, and the firme fixture of thy foote, would giue an excellent motion to thy gate, in a semicircled Farthingale. I see what thou wert if Fortune thy foe, were not Nature thy friend: Come, thou canst not hide it

Mist.Ford. Beleeue me, ther's no such thing in me

Fal. What made me loue thee? Let that perswade thee. Ther's something extraordinary in thee: Come, I cannot cog, and say thou art this and that, like a-manie of these lisping-hauthorne buds, that come like women in mens apparrell, and smell like Bucklers-berry in simple time: I cannot, but I loue thee, none but thee; and thou deseru'st it

M.Ford. Do not betray me sir, I fear you loue M[istris]. Page

Fal. Thou mightst as well say, I loue to walke by the Counter-gate, which is as hatefull to me, as the reeke of a Lime-kill

Mis.Ford. Well, heauen knowes how I loue you, And you shall one day finde it

Fal. Keepe in that minde, Ile deserue it

Mist.Ford. Nay, I must tell you, so you doe; Or else I could not be in that minde

Rob. Mistris Ford, Mistris Ford: heere's Mistris Page at the doore, sweating, and blowing, and looking wildely, and would needs speake with you presently

Fal. She shall not see me, I will ensconce mee behinde the Arras

M.Ford. Pray you do so, she's a very tatling woman. Whats the matter? How now? Mist.Page. O mistris Ford what haue you done? You'r sham'd, y'are ouerthrowne, y'are vndone for euer

M.Ford. What's the matter, good mistris Page? M.Page. O weladay, mist[ris]. Ford, hauing an honest man to your husband, to giue him such cause of suspition

M.Ford. What cause of suspition? M.Page. What cause of suspition? Out vpon you: How am I mistooke in you? M.Ford. Why (alas) what's the matter? M.Page. Your husband's comming hether (Woman) with all the Officers in Windsor, to search for a Gentleman, that he sayes is heere now in the house; by your consent to take an ill aduantage of his absence: you are vndone

M.Ford. 'Tis not so, I hope

M.Page. Pray heauen it be not so, that you haue such a man heere: but 'tis most certaine your husband's comming, with halfe Windsor at his heeles, to serch for such a one, I come before to tell you: If you know your selfe cleere, why I am glad of it: but if you haue a friend here, conuey, conuey him out. Be not amaz'd, call all your senses to you, defend your reputation, or bid farwell to your good life for euer

M.Ford. What shall I do? There is a Gentleman my deere friend: and I feare not mine owne shame so much, as his perill. I had rather then a thousand pound he were out of the house

M.Page. For shame, neuer stand (you had rather, and you had rather:) your husband's heere at hand, bethinke you of some conueyance: in the house you cannot hide him. Oh, how haue you deceiu'd me? Looke, heere is a basket, if he be of any reasonable stature, he may creepe in heere, and throw fowle linnen vpon him, as if it were going to bucking: Or it is whiting time, send him by your two men to Datchet-Meade

M.Ford. He's too big to go in there: what shall I do? Fal. Let me see't, let me see't, O let me see't: Ile in, Ile in: Follow your friends counsell, Ile in

M.Page. What Sir Iohn Falstaffe? Are these your Letters, Knight? Fal. I loue thee, helpe mee away: let me creepe in heere: ile neuer - M.Page. Helpe to couer your master (Boy:) Call your men (Mist[ris]. Ford.) You dissembling Knight

M.Ford. What Iohn, Robert, Iohn; Go, take vp these cloathes heere, quickly: Wher's the Cowle-staffe? Look how you drumble? Carry them to the Landresse in Datchet mead: quickly, come

Ford. 'Pray you come nere: if I suspect without cause, Why then make sport at me, then let me be your iest, I deserue it: How now? Whether beare you this? Ser. To the Landresse forsooth? M.Ford. Why, what haue you to doe whether they beare it? You were best meddle with buck-washing

Ford. Buck? I would I could wash my selfe of y Buck: Bucke, bucke, bucke, I bucke: I warrant you Bucke, And of the season too; it shall appeare. Gentlemen, I haue dream'd to night, Ile tell you my dreame: heere, heere, heere bee my keyes, ascend my Chambers, search, seeke, finde out: Ile warrant wee'le vnkennell the Fox. Let me stop this way first: so, now vncape

Page. Good master Ford, be contented: You wrong your selfe too much

Ford. True (master Page) vp Gentlemen, You shall see sport anon: Follow me Gentlemen

Euans. This is fery fantasticall humors and iealousies

Caius. By gar, 'tis no-the fashion of France: It is not iealous in France

Page. Nay follow him (Gentlemen) see the yssue of his search

Mist.Page. Is there not a double excellency in this? Mist.Ford. I know not which pleases me better, That my husband is deceiued, or Sir Iohn

Mist.Page. What a taking was hee in, when your husband askt who was in the basket? Mist.Ford. I am halfe affraid he will haue neede of washing: so throwing him into the water, will doe him a benefit

Mist.Page. Hang him dishonest rascall: I would all of the same straine, were in the same distresse

Mist.Ford. I thinke my husband hath some speciall suspition of Falstaffs being heere: for I neuer saw him so grosse in his iealousie till now

Mist.Page. I will lay a plot to try that, and wee will yet haue more trickes with Falstaffe: his dissolute disease will scarse obey this medicine

Mis.Ford. Shall we send that foolishion Carion, Mist[ris]. Quickly to him, and excuse his throwing into the water, and giue him another hope, to betray him to another punishment? Mist.Page. We will do it: let him be sent for to morrow eight a clocke to haue amends

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

Mis.Page. Heard you that? Mis.Ford. You vse me well, M[aster]. Ford? Do you? Ford. I, I do so

M.Ford. Heauen make you better then your thoghts Ford. Amen

Mi.Page. You do your selfe mighty wrong (M[aster]. Ford) Ford. I, I: I must beare it

Eu. If there be any pody in the house, & in the chambers, and in the coffers, and in the presses: heauen forgiue my sins at the day of iudgement

Caius. Be gar, nor I too: there is no-bodies

Page. Fy, fy, M[aster]. Ford, are you not asham'd? What spirit, what diuell suggests this imagination? I wold not ha your distemper in this kind, for y welth of Windsor castle

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

Euans. You suffer for a pad conscience: your wife is as honest a o'mans, as I will desires among fiue thousand, and fiue hundred too

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

Ford. Well, I promisd you a dinner: come, come, walk in the Parke, I pray you pardon me: I wil hereafter make knowne to you why I haue done this. Come wife, come Mi[stris]. Page, I pray you pardon me. Pray hartly pardon me

Page. Let's go in Gentlemen, but (trust me) we'l mock him: I doe inuite you to morrow morning to my house to breakfast: after we'll a Birding together, I haue a fine Hawke for the bush. Shall it be so: Ford. Any thing

Eu. If there is one, I shall make two in the Companie Ca. If there be one, or two, I shall make-a-theturd

Ford. Pray you go, M[aster]. Page

Eua. I pray you now remembrance to morrow on the lowsie knaue, mine Host

Cai. Dat is good by gar, withall my heart

Eua. A lowsie knaue, to haue his gibes, and his mockeries.

Exeunt.

Scoena Quarta.

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

Fen. I see I cannot get thy Fathers loue, Therefore no more turne me to him (sweet Nan.) Anne. Alas, how then? Fen. Why thou must be thy selfe. He doth obiect, I am too great of birth, And that my state being gall'd with my expence, I seeke to heale it onely by his wealth. Besides these, other barres he layes before me, My Riots past, my wilde Societies, And tels me 'tis a thing impossible I should loue thee, but as a property

An. May be he tels you true. No, heauen so speed me in my time to come, Albeit I will confesse, thy Fathers wealth Was the first motiue that I woo'd thee (Anne:) Yet wooing thee, I found thee of more valew Then stampes in Gold, or summes in sealed bagges: And 'tis the very riches of thy selfe, That now I ayme at

An. Gentle M[aster]. Fenton, Yet seeke my Fathers loue, still seeke it sir, If opportunity and humblest suite Cannot attaine it, why then harke you hither

Shal. Breake their talke Mistris Quickly. My Kinsman shall speake for himselfe

Slen. Ile make a shaft or a bolt on't, slid, tis but venturing

Shal. Be not dismaid

Slen. No, she shall not dismay me: I care not for that, but that I am affeard

Qui. Hark ye, M[aster]. Slender would speak a word with you An. I come to him. This is my Fathers choice: O what a world of vilde ill-fauour'd faults Lookes handsome in three hundred pounds a yeere? Qui. And how do's good Master Fenton? Pray you a word with you

Shal. Shee's comming; to her Coz: O boy, thou hadst a father

Slen. I had a father (M[istris]. An) my vncle can tel you good iests of him: pray you Vncle, tel Mist[ris]. Anne the iest how my Father stole two Geese out of a Pen, good Vnckle

Shal. Mistris Anne, my Cozen loues you

Slen. I that I do, as well as I loue any woman in Glocestershire

Shal. He will maintaine you like a Gentlewoman

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

Shal. He will make you a hundred and fiftie pounds ioynture

Anne. Good Maister Shallow let him woo for himselfe

Shal. Marrie I thanke you for it: I thanke you for that good comfort: she cals you (Coz) Ile leaue you

Anne. Now Master Slender

Slen. Now good Mistris Anne

Anne. What is your will? Slen. My will? Odd's-hartlings, that's a prettie iest indeede: I ne're made my Will yet (I thanke Heauen:) I am not such a sickely creature, I giue Heauen praise

Anne. I meane (M[aster]. Slender) what wold you with me? Slen. Truely, for mine owne part, I would little or nothing with you: your father and my vncle hath made motions: if it be my lucke, so; if not, happy man bee his dole, they can tell you how things go, better then I can: you may aske your father, heere he comes

Page. Now Mr Slender; Loue him daughter Anne. Why how now? What does Mr Fenten here? You wrong me Sir, thus still to haunt my house. I told you Sir, my daughter is disposd of

Fen. Nay Mr Page, be not impatient

Mist.Page. Good M[aster]. Fenton, come not to my child

Page. She is no match for you

Fen. Sir, will you heare me? Page. No, good M[aster]. Fenton. Come M[aster]. Shallow: Come sonne Slender, in; Knowing my minde, you wrong me (M[aster]. Fenton.) Qui. Speake to Mistris Page

Fen. Good Mist[ris]. Page, for that I loue your daughter In such a righteous fashion as I do, Perforce, against all checkes, rebukes, and manners, I must aduance the colours of my loue, And not retire. Let me haue your good will

An. Good mother, do not marry me to yond foole

Mist.Page. I meane it not, I seeke you a better husband

Qui. That's my master, M[aster]. Doctor

An. Alas I had rather be set quick i'th earth, And bowl'd to death with Turnips

Mist.Page. Come, trouble not your selfe good M[aster]. Fenton, I will not be your friend, nor enemy: My daughter will I question how she loues you, And as I finde her, so am I affected: Till then, farewell Sir, she must needs go in, Her father will be angry

Fen. Farewell gentle Mistris: farewell Nan

Qui. This is my doing now: Nay, saide I, will you cast away your childe on a Foole, and a Physitian: Looke on M[aster]. Fenton, this is my doing

Fen. I thanke thee: and I pray thee once to night, Giue my sweet Nan this Ring: there's for thy paines

Qui. Now heauen send thee good fortune, a kinde heart he hath: a woman would run through fire & water for such a kinde heart. But yet, I would my Maister had Mistris Anne, or I would M[aster]. Slender had her: or (in sooth) I would M[aster]. Fenton had her; I will do what I can for them all three, for so I haue promisd, and Ile bee as good as my word, but speciously for M[aster]. Fenton. Well, I must of another errand to Sir Iohn Falstaffe from my two Mistresses: what a beast am I to slacke it.

Exeunt.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Falstaffe, Bardolfe, Quickly, Ford.

Fal. Bardolfe I say

Bar. Heere Sir

Fal. Go, fetch me a quart of Sacke, put a tost in't. Haue I liu'd to be carried in a Basket like a barrow of butchers Offall? and to be throwne in the Thames? Wel, if I be seru'd such another tricke, Ile haue my braines 'tane out and butter'd, and giue them to a dogge for a New-yeares gift. The rogues slighted me into the riuer with as little remorse, as they would haue drown'de a blinde bitches Puppies, fifteene i'th litter: and you may know by my size, that I haue a kinde of alacrity in sinking: if the bottome were as deepe as hell, I shold down. I had beene drown'd, but that the shore was sheluy and shallow: a death that I abhorre: for the water swelles a man; and what a thing should I haue beene, when I had beene swel'd? I should haue beene a Mountaine of Mummie

Bar. Here's M[istris]. Quickly Sir to speake with you

Fal. Come, let me poure in some Sack to the Thames water: for my bellies as cold as if I had swallow'd snowbals, for pilles to coole the reines. Call her in

Bar. Come in woman

Qui. By your leaue: I cry you mercy? Giue your worship good morrow

Fal. Take away these Challices: Go, brew me a pottle of Sacke finely

Bard. With Egges, Sir? Fal. Simple of it selfe: Ile no Pullet-Spersme in my brewage. How now? Qui. Marry Sir, I come to your worship from M[istris]. Ford

Fal. Mist[ris]. Ford? I haue had Ford enough: I was thrown into the Ford; I haue my belly full of Ford

Qui. Alas the day, (good-heart) that was not her fault: she do's so take on with her men; they mistooke their erection

Fal. So did I mine, to build vpon a foolish Womans promise

Qui. Well, she laments Sir for it, that it would yern your heart to see it: her husband goes this morning a birding; she desires you once more to come to her, betweene eight and nine: I must carry her word quickely, she'll make you amends I warrant you

Fal. Well, I will visit her, tell her so: and bidde her thinke what a man is: Let her consider his frailety, and then iudge of my merit

Qui. I will tell her

Fal. Do so. Betweene nine and ten saist thou? Qui. Eight and nine Sir

Fal. Well, be gone: I will not misse her

Qui. Peace be with you Sir

Fal. I meruaile I heare not of Mr Broome: he sent me word to stay within: I like his money well. Oh, heere he comes

Ford. Blesse you Sir

Fal. Now M[aster]. Broome, you come to know What hath past betweene me, and Fords wife

Ford. That indeed (Sir Iohn) is my businesse

Fal. M[aster]. Broome I will not lye to you, I was at her house the houre she appointed me

Ford. And sped you Sir? Fal. Very ill-fauouredly M[aster]. Broome

Ford. How so sir, did she change her determination? Fal. No (M[aster]. Broome) but the peaking Curnuto her husband (M[aster]. Broome) dwelling in a continual larum of ielousie, coms me in the instant of our encounter, after we had embrast, kist, protested, & (as it were) spoke the prologue of our Comedy: and at his heeles, a rabble of his companions, thither prouoked and instigated by his distemper, and (forsooth) to serch his house for his wiues Loue

Ford. What? While you were there? Fal. While I was there

For. And did he search for you, & could not find you? Fal. You shall heare. As good lucke would haue it, comes in one Mist[ris]. Page, giues intelligence of Fords approch: and in her inuention, and Fords wiues distraction, they conuey'd me into a bucke-basket

Ford. A Buck-basket? Fal. Yes: a Buck-basket: ram'd mee in with foule Shirts and Smockes, Socks, foule Stockings, greasie Napkins, that (Master Broome) there was the rankest compound of villanous smell, that euer offended nostrill

Ford. And how long lay you there? Fal. Nay, you shall heare (Master Broome) what I haue sufferd, to bring this woman to euill, for your good: Being thus cram'd in the Basket, a couple of Fords knaues, his Hindes, were cald forth by their Mistris, to carry mee in the name of foule Cloathes to Datchet-lane: they tooke me on their shoulders: met the iealous knaue their Master in the doore; who ask'd them once or twice what they had in their Basket? I quak'd for feare least the Lunatique Knaue would haue search'd it: but Fate (ordaining he should be a Cuckold) held his hand: well, on went hee, for a search, and away went I for foule Cloathes: But marke the sequell (Master Broome) I suffered the pangs of three seuerall deaths: First, an intollerable fright, to be detected with a iealious rotten Bell-weather: Next to be compass'd like a good Bilbo in the circumference of a Pecke, hilt to point, heele to head. And then to be stopt in like a strong distillation with stinking Cloathes, that fretted in their owne grease: thinke of that, a man of my Kidney; thinke of that, that am as subiect to heate as butter; a man of continuall dissolution, and thaw: it was a miracle to scape suffocation. And in the height of this Bath (when I was more then halfe stew'd in grease (like a Dutch-dish) to be throwne into the Thames, and coold, glowing-hot, in that serge like a Horse-shoo; thinke of that; hissing hot: thinke of that (Master Broome.) Ford. In good sadnesse Sir, I am sorry, that for my sake you haue sufferd all this. My suite then is desperate: You'll vndertake her no more? Fal. Master Broome: I will be throwne into Etna, as I haue beene into Thames, ere I will leaue her thus; her Husband is this morning gone a Birding: I haue receiued from her another ambassie of meeting: 'twixt eight and nine is the houre (Master Broome.) Ford. 'Tis past eight already Sir

Fal. Is it? I will then addresse mee to my appointment: Come to mee at your conuenient leisure, and you shall know how I speede: and the conclusion shall be crowned with your enioying her: adiew: you shall haue her (Master Broome) Master Broome, you shall cuckold Ford

Ford. Hum: ha? Is this a vision? Is this a dreame? doe I sleepe? Master Ford awake, awake Master Ford: ther's a hole made in your best coate (Master Ford:) this 'tis to be married; this 'tis to haue Lynnen, and Buckbaskets: Well, I will proclaime my selfe what I am: I will now take the Leacher: hee is at my house: hee cannot scape me: 'tis impossible hee should: hee cannot creepe into a halfe-penny purse, nor into a PepperBoxe: But least the Diuell that guides him, should aide him, I will search impossible places: though what I am, I cannot auoide; yet to be what I would not, shall not make me tame: If I haue hornes, to make one mad, let the prouerbe goe with me, Ile be hornemad.

Exeunt.

Actus Quartus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Mistris Page, Quickly, William, Euans.

Mist.Pag. Is he at M[aster]. Fords already think'st thou? Qui. Sure he is by this; or will be presently; but truely he is very couragious mad, about his throwing into the water. Mistris Ford desires you to come sodainely

Mist.Pag. Ile be with her by and by: Ile but bring my yong-man here to Schoole: looke where his Master comes; 'tis a playing day I see: how now Sir Hugh, no Schoole to day? Eua. No: Master Slender is let the Boyes leaue to play

Qui 'Blessing of his heart

Mist.Pag. Sir Hugh, my husband saies my sonne profits nothing in the world at his Booke: I pray you aske him some questions in his Accidence

Eu. Come hither William; hold vp your head; come

Mist.Pag. Come-on Sirha; hold vp your head; answere your Master, be not afraid

Eua. William, how many Numbers is in Nownes? Will. Two

Qui. Truely, I thought there had bin one Number more, because they say od's-Nownes

Eua. Peace, your tatlings. What is (Faire) William? Will. Pulcher

Qu. Powlcats? there are fairer things then Powlcats, sure

Eua. You are a very simplicity o'man: I pray you peace. What is (Lapis) William? Will. A Stone

Eua. And what is a Stone (William?) Will. A Peeble

Eua. No; it is Lapis: I pray you remember in your praine

Will. Lapis

Eua. That is a good William: what is he (William) that do's lend Articles

Will. Articles are borrowed of the Pronoune; and be thus declined. Singulariter nominatiuo hic, haec, hoc

Eua. Nominatiuo hig, hag, hog: pray you marke: genitiuo huius: Well: what is your Accusatiue-case? Will. Accusatiuo hinc

Eua. I pray you haue your remembrance (childe) Accusatiuo hing, hang, hog

Qu. Hang-hog, is latten for Bacon, I warrant you

Eua. Leaue your prables (o'man) What is the Focatiue case (William?) Will. O, Vocatiuo, O

Eua. Remember William, Focatiue, is caret

Qu. And that's a good roote

Eua. O'man, forbeare

Mist.Pag. Peace

Eua. What is your Genitiue case plurall (William?) Will. Genitiue case? Eua. I

Will. Genitiue horum, harum, horum

Qu. 'Vengeance of Ginyes case; fie on her; neuer name her (childe) if she be a whore

Eua. For shame o'man

Qu. You doe ill to teach the childe such words: hee teaches him to hic, and to hac; which they'll doe fast enough of themselues, and to call horum; fie vpon you

Euans. O'man, art thou Lunatics? Hast thou no vnderstandings for thy Cases, & the numbers of the Genders? Thou art as foolish Christian creatures, as I would desires

Mi.Page. Pre'thee hold thy peace

Eu. Shew me now (William) some declensions of your Pronounes

Will. Forsooth, I haue forgot

Eu. It is Qui, que, quod; if you forget your Quies, your Ques, and your Quods, you must be preeches: Goe your waies and play, go

M.Pag. He is a better scholler then I thought he was

Eu. He is a good sprag-memory: Farewel Mis[tris]. Page

Mis.Page. Adieu good Sir Hugh: Get you home boy, Come we stay too long.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Falstoffe, Mist.Ford, Mist.Page, Seruants, Ford, Page, Caius, Euans, Shallow.

Fal. Mi[stris]. Ford, Your sorrow hath eaten vp my sufferance; I see you are obsequious in your loue, and I professe requitall to a haires bredth, not onely Mist[ris]. Ford, in the simple office of loue, but in all the accustrement, complement, and ceremony of it: But are you sure of your husband now? Mis.Ford. Hee's a birding (sweet Sir Iohn.) Mis.Page. What hoa, gossip Ford: what hoa

Mis.Ford. Step into th' chamber, Sir Iohn

Mis.Page. How now (sweete heart) whose at home besides your selfe? Mis.Ford. Why none but mine owne people

Mis.Page. Indeed? Mis.Ford. No certainly: Speake louder

Mist.Pag. Truly, I am so glad you haue no body here

Mist.Ford. Why? Mis.Page. Why woman, your husband is in his olde lines againe: he so takes on yonder with my husband, so railes against all married mankinde; so curses all Eues daughters, of what complexion soeuer; and so buffettes himselfe on the for-head: crying peere-out, peere-out, that any madnesse I euer yet beheld, seem'd but tamenesse, ciuility, and patience to this his distemper he is in now: I am glad the fat Knight is not heere

Mist.Ford. Why, do's he talke of him? Mist.Page. Of none but him, and sweares he was caried out the last time hee search'd for him, in a Basket: Protests to my husband he is now heere, & hath drawne him and the rest of their company from their sport, to make another experiment of his suspition: But I am glad the Knight is not heere; now he shall see his owne foolerie

Mist.Ford. How neere is he Mistris Page? Mist.Pag. Hard by, at street end; he wil be here anon

Mist.Ford. I am vndone, the Knight is heere

Mist.Page. Why then you are vtterly sham'd, & hee's but a dead man. What a woman are you? Away with him, away with him: Better shame, then murther

Mist.Ford. Which way should he go? How should I bestow him? Shall I put him into the basket againe? Fal. No, Ile come no more i'th Basket: May I not go out ere he come? Mist.Page. Alas: three of Mr. Fords brothers watch the doore with Pistols, that none shall issue out: otherwise you might slip away ere hee came: But what make you heere? Fal. What shall I do? Ile creepe vp into the chimney

Mist.Ford. There they alwaies vse to discharge their Birding-peeces: creepe into the Kill-hole

Fal. Where is it? Mist.Ford. He will seeke there on my word: Neyther Presse, Coffer, Chest, Trunke, Well, Vault, but he hath an abstract for the remembrance of such places, and goes to them by his Note: There is no hiding you in the house

Fal. Ile go out then

Mist.Ford. If you goe out in your owne semblance, you die Sir Iohn, vnlesse you go out disguis'd

Mist.Ford. How might we disguise him? Mist.Page. Alas the day I know not, there is no womans gowne bigge enough for him: otherwise he might put on a hat, a muffler, and a kerchiefe, and so escape

Fal. Good hearts, deuise something: any extremitie, rather then a mischiefe

Mist.Ford. My Maids Aunt the fat woman of Brainford, has a gowne aboue

Mist.Page. On my word it will serue him: shee's as big as he is: and there's her thrum'd hat, and her muffler too: run vp Sir Iohn

Mist.Ford. Go, go, sweet Sir Iohn: Mistris Page and I will looke some linnen for your head

Mist.Page. Quicke, quicke, wee'le come dresse you straight: put on the gowne the while

Mist.Ford. I would my husband would meete him in this shape: he cannot abide the old woman of Brainford; he sweares she's a witch, forbad her my house, and hath threatned to beate her

Mist.Page. Heauen guide him to thy husbands cudgell: and the diuell guide his cudgell afterwards

Mist.Ford. But is my husband comming? Mist.Page. I in good sadnesse is he, and talkes of the basket too, howsoeuer he hath had intelligence

Mist.Ford. Wee'l try that: for Ile appoint my men to carry the basket againe, to meete him at the doore with it, as they did last time

Mist.Page. Nay, but hee'l be heere presently: let's go dresse him like the witch of Brainford

Mist.Ford. Ile first direct my men, what they shall doe with the basket: Goe vp, Ile bring linnen for him straight

Mist.Page. Hang him dishonest Varlet, We cannot misuse enough: We'll leaue a proofe by that which we will doo, Wiues may be merry, and yet honest too: We do not acte that often, iest, and laugh, 'Tis old, but true, Still Swine eats all the draugh

Mist.Ford. Go Sirs, take the basket againe on your shoulders: your Master is hard at doore: if hee bid you set it downe, obey him: quickly, dispatch

1 Ser. Come, come, take it vp

2 Ser. Pray heauen it be not full of Knight againe

1 Ser. I hope not, I had liefe as beare so much lead

Ford. I, but if it proue true (Mr. Page) haue you any way then to vnfoole me againe. Set downe the basket villaine: some body call my wife: Youth in a basket: Oh you Panderly Rascals, there's a knot: a gin, a packe, a conspiracie against me: Now shall the diuel be sham'd. What wife I say: Come, come forth: behold what honest cloathes you send forth to bleaching

Page. Why, this passes M[aster]. Ford: you are not to goe loose any longer, you must be pinnion'd

Euans. Why, this is Lunaticks: this is madde, as a mad dogge

Shall. Indeed M[aster]. Ford, this is not well indeed

Ford. So say I too Sir, come hither Mistris Ford, Mistris Ford, the honest woman, the modest wife, the vertuous creature, that hath the iealious foole to her husband: I suspect without cause (Mistris) do I? Mist.Ford. Heauen be my witnesse you doe, if you suspect me in any dishonesty

Ford. Well said Brazon-face, hold it out: Come forth sirrah

Page. This passes

Mist.Ford. Are you not asham'd, let the cloths alone

Ford. I shall finde you anon

Eua. 'Tis vnreasonable; will you take vp your wiues cloathes? Come, away

Ford. Empty the basket I say

M.Ford. Why man, why? Ford. Master Page, as I am a man, there was one conuay'd out of my house yesterday in this basket: why may not he be there againe, in my house I am sure he is: my Intelligence is true, my iealousie is reasonable, pluck me out all the linnen

Mist.Ford. If you find a man there, he shall dye a Fleas death

Page. Heer's no man

Shal. By my fidelity this is not well Mr. Ford: This wrongs you

Euans. Mr Ford, you must pray, and not follow the imaginations of your owne heart: this is iealousies

Ford. Well, hee's not heere I seeke for

Page. No, nor no where else but in your braine

Ford. Helpe to search my house this one time: if I find not what I seeke, shew no colour for my extremity: Let me for euer be your Table-sport: Let them say of me, as iealous as Ford, that search'd a hollow Wall-nut for his wiues Lemman. Satisfie me once more, once more serch with me

M.Ford. What hoa (Mistris Page,) come you and the old woman downe: my husband will come into the Chamber

Ford. Old woman? what old womans that? M.Ford. Why it is my maids Aunt of Brainford

Ford. A witch, a Queane, an olde couzening queane: Haue I not forbid her my house. She comes of errands do's she? We are simple men, wee doe not know what's brought to passe vnder the profession of Fortune-telling. She workes by Charmes, by Spels, by th' Figure, & such dawbry as this is, beyond our Element: wee know nothing. Come downe you Witch, you Hagge you, come downe I say

Mist.Ford. Nay, good sweet husband, good Gentlemen, let him strike the old woman

Mist.Page. Come mother Prat, Come giue me your hand

Ford. Ile Prat-her: Out of my doore, you Witch, you Ragge, you Baggage, you Poulcat, you Runnion, out, out: Ile coniure you, Ile fortune-tell you

Mist.Page. Are you not asham'd? I thinke you haue kill'd the poore woman

Mist.Ford. Nay he will do it, 'tis a goodly credite for you

Ford. Hang her witch

Eua. By yea, and no, I thinke the o'man is a witch indeede: I like not when a o'man has a great peard; I spie a great peard vnder his muffler

Ford. Will you follow Gentlemen, I beseech you follow: see but the issue of my iealousie: If I cry out thus vpon no traile, neuer trust me when I open againe

Page. Let's obey his humour a little further: Come Gentlemen

Mist.Page. Trust me he beate him most pittifully

Mist.Ford. Nay by th' Masse that he did not: he beate him most vnpittifully, me thought

Mist.Page. Ile haue the cudgell hallow'd, and hung ore the Altar, it hath done meritorious seruice

Mist.Ford. What thinke you? May we with the warrant of woman-hood, and the witnesse of a good conscience, pursue him with any further reuenge? M.Page. The spirit of wantonnesse is sure scar'd out of him, if the diuell haue him not in fee-simple, with fine and recouery, he will neuer (I thinke) in the way of waste, attempt vs againe

Mist.Ford. Shall we tell our husbands how wee haue seru'd him? Mist.Page. Yes, by all meanes: if it be but to scrape the figures out of your husbands braines: if they can find in their hearts, the poore vnuertuous fat Knight shall be any further afflicted, wee two will still bee the ministers

Mist.Ford. Ile warrant, they'l haue him publiquely sham'd, and me thinkes there would be no period to the iest, should he not be publikely sham'd

Mist.Page. Come, to the Forge with it, then shape it: I would not haue things coole.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Host and Bardolfe.

Bar. Sir, the Germane desires to haue three of your horses: the Duke himselfe will be to morrow at Court, and they are going to meet him

Host. What Duke should that be comes so secretly? I heare not of him in the Court: let mee speake with the Gentlemen, they speake English? Bar. I Sir? Ile call him to you

Host. They shall haue my horses, but Ile make them pay: Ile sauce them, they haue had my houses a week at commaund: I haue turn'd away my other guests, they must come off, Ile sawce them, come.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Page, Ford, Mistris Page, Mistris Ford, and Euans.

Eua. 'Tis one of the best discretions of a o'man as euer I did looke vpon

Page. And did he send you both these Letters at an instant? Mist.Page. Within a quarter of an houre

Ford. Pardon me (wife) henceforth do what y wilt: I rather will suspect the Sunne with gold, Then thee with wantonnes: Now doth thy honor stand (In him that was of late an Heretike) As firme as faith

Page. 'Tis well, 'tis well, no more: Be not as extreme in submission, as in offence, But let our plot go forward: Let our wiues Yet once againe (to make vs publike sport) Appoint a meeting with this old fat-fellow, Where we may take him, and disgrace him for it

Ford. There is no better way then that they spoke of

Page. How? to send him word they'll meete him in the Parke at midnight? Fie, fie, he'll neuer come

Eu. You say he has bin throwne in the Riuers: and has bin greeuously peaten, as an old o'man: me-thinkes there should be terrors in him, that he should not come: Me-thinkes his flesh is punish'd, hee shall haue no desires

Page. So thinke I too

M.Ford. Deuise but how you'l vse him whe[n] he comes, And let vs two deuise to bring him thether

Mis.Page. There is an old tale goes, that Herne the Hunter (sometime a keeper heere in Windsor Forrest) Doth all the winter time, at still midnight Walke round about an Oake, with great rag'd-hornes, And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle, And make milch-kine yeeld blood, and shakes a chaine In a most hideous and dreadfull manner. You haue heard of such a Spirit, and well you know The superstitious idle-headed-Eld Receiu'd, and did deliuer to our age This tale of Herne the Hunter, for a truth

Page. Why yet there want not many that do feare In deepe of night to walke by this Hernes Oake: But what of this? Mist.Ford. Marry this is our deuise, That Falstaffe at that Oake shall meete with vs

Page. Well, let it not be doubted but he'll come, And in this shape, when you haue brought him thether, What shall be done with him? What is your plot? Mist.Pa. That likewise haue we thoght vpon: & thus: Nan Page (my daughter) and my little sonne, And three or foure more of their growth, wee'l dresse Like Vrchins, Ouphes, and Fairies, greene and white, With rounds of waxen Tapers on their heads, And rattles in their hands; vpon a sodaine, As Falstaffe, she, and I, are newly met, Let them from forth a saw-pit rush at once With some diffused song: Vpon their sight We two, in great amazednesse will flye: Then let them all encircle him about, And Fairy-like to pinch the vncleane Knight; And aske him why that houre of Fairy Reuell, In their so sacred pathes, he dares to tread In shape prophane

Ford. And till he tell the truth, Let the supposed Fairies pinch him, sound, And burne him with their Tapers

Mist.Page. The truth being knowne, We'll all present our selues; dis-horne the spirit, And mocke him home to Windsor

Ford. The children must Be practis'd well to this, or they'll neu'r doo't

Eua. I will teach the children their behauiours: and I will be like a Iacke-an-Apes also, to burne the Knight with my Taber

Ford. That will be excellent, Ile go buy them vizards

Mist.Page. My Nan shall be the Queene of all the Fairies, finely attired in a robe of white

Page. That silke will I go buy, and in that time Shall M[aster]. Slender steale my Nan away, And marry her at Eaton: go, send to Falstaffe straight

Ford. Nay, Ile to him againe in name of Broome, Hee'l tell me all his purpose: sure hee'l come

Mist.Page. Feare not you that: Go get vs properties And tricking for our Fayries

Euans. Let vs about it, It is admirable pleasures, and ferry honest knaueries

Mis.Page. Go Mist[ris]. Ford, Send quickly to Sir Iohn, to know his minde: Ile to the Doctor, he hath my good will, And none but he to marry with Nan Page: That Slender (though well landed) is an Ideot: And he, my husband best of all affects: The Doctor is well monied, and his friends Potent at Court: he, none but he shall haue her, Though twenty thousand worthier come to craue her.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Host, Simple, Falstaffe, Bardolfe, Euans, Caius, Quickly.

Host. What wouldst thou haue? (Boore) what? (thick skin) speake, breathe, discusse: breefe, short, quicke, snap

Simp. Marry Sir, I come to speake with Sir Iohn Falstaffe from M[aster]. Slender

Host. There's his Chamber, his House, his Castle, his standing-bed and truckle-bed: 'tis painted about with the story of the Prodigall, fresh and new: go, knock and call: hee'l speake like an Anthropophaginian vnto thee: Knocke I say

Simp. There's an olde woman, a fat woman gone vp into his chamber: Ile be so bold as stay Sir till she come downe: I come to speake with her indeed

Host. Ha? A fat woman? The Knight may be robb'd: Ile call. Bully-Knight, Bully Sir Iohn: speake from thy Lungs Military: Art thou there? It is thine Host, thine Ephesian cals

Fal. How now, mine Host? Host. Here's a Bohemian-Tartar taries the comming downe of thy fat-woman: Let her descend (Bully) let her descend: my Chambers are honourable: Fie, priuacy? Fie

Fal. There was (mine Host) an old-fat-woman euen now with me, but she's gone

Simp. Pray you Sir, was't not the Wise-woman of Brainford? Fal. I marry was it (Mussel-shell) what would you with her? Simp. My Master (Sir) my master Slender, sent to her seeing her go thorough the streets, to know (Sir) whether one Nim (Sir) that beguil'd him of a chaine, had the chaine, or no

Fal. I spake with the old woman about it

Sim. And what sayes she, I pray Sir? Fal. Marry shee sayes, that the very same man that beguil'd Master Slender of his Chaine, cozon'd him of it

Simp. I would I could haue spoken with the Woman her selfe, I had other things to haue spoken with her too, from him

Fal. What are they? let vs know

Host. I: come: quicke

Fal. I may not conceale them (Sir.) Host. Conceale them, or thou di'st

Sim. Why sir, they were nothing but about Mistris Anne Page, to know if it were my Masters fortune to haue her, or no

Fal. 'Tis, 'tis his fortune

Sim. What Sir? Fal. To haue her, or no: goe; say the woman told me so

Sim. May I be bold to say so Sir? Fal. I Sir: like who more bold

Sim. I thanke your worship: I shall make my Master glad with these tydings

Host. Thou art clearkly: thou art clearkly (Sir Iohn) was there a wise woman with thee? Fal. I that there was (mine Host) one that hath taught me more wit, then euer I learn'd before in my life: and I paid nothing for it neither, but was paid for my learning

Bar. Out alas (Sir) cozonage: meere cozonage

Host. Where be my horses? speake well of them varletto

Bar. Run away with the cozoners: for so soone as I came beyond Eaton, they threw me off, from behinde one of them, in a slough of myre; and set spurres, and away; like three Germane-diuels; three Doctor Faustasses

Host. They are gone but to meete the Duke (villaine) doe not say they be fled: Germanes are honest men

Euan. Where is mine Host? Host. What is the matter Sir? Euan. Haue a care of your entertainments: there is a friend of mine come to Towne, tels mee there is three Cozen-Iermans, that has cozend all the Hosts of Reading, of Maidenhead; of Cole-brooke, of horses and money: I tell you for good will (looke you) you are wise, and full of gibes, and vlouting-stocks: and 'tis not conuenient you should be cozoned. Fare you well

Cai. Ver' is mine Host de Iarteere? Host. Here (Master Doctor) in perplexitie, and doubtfull delemma

Cai. I cannot tell vat is dat: but it is tell-a-me, dat you make grand preparation for a Duke de Iamanie: by my trot: der is no Duke that the Court is know, to come: I tell you for good will: adieu

Host. Huy and cry, (villaine) goe: assist me Knight, I am vndone: fly, run: huy, and cry (villaine) I am vndone

Fal. I would all the world might be cozond, for I haue beene cozond and beaten too: if it should come to the eare of the Court, how I haue beene transformed; and how my transformation hath beene washd, and cudgeld, they would melt mee out of my fat drop by drop, and liquor Fishermens-boots with me: I warrant they would whip me with their fine wits, till I were as crest-falne as a dride-peare: I neuer prosper'd, since I forswore my selfe at Primero: well, if my winde were but long enough; I would repent: Now? Whence come you? Qui. From the two parties forsooth

Fal. The Diuell take one partie, and his Dam the other: and so they shall be both bestowed; I haue suffer'd more for their sakes; more then the villanous inconstancy of mans disposition is able to beare

Qui. And haue not they suffer'd? Yes, I warrant; speciously one of them; Mistris Ford (good heart) is beaten blacke and blew, that you cannot see a white spot about her

Fal. What tell'st thou mee of blacke, and blew? I was beaten my selfe into all the colours of the Rainebow: and I was like to be apprehended for the Witch of Braineford, but that my admirable dexteritie of wit, my counterfeiting the action of an old woman deliuer'd me, the knaue Constable had set me ith' Stocks, ith' common Stocks, for a Witch

Qu, Sir: let me speake with you in your Chamber, you shall heare how things goe, and (I warrant) to your content: here is a Letter will say somewhat: (good-hearts) what adoe here is to bring you together? Sure, one of you do's not serue heauen well, that you are so cross'd

Fal. Come vp into my Chamber.

Exeunt.

Scena Sexta.

Enter Fenton, Host.

Host. Master Fenton, talke not to mee, my minde is heauy: I will giue ouer all

Fen. Yet heare me speake: assist me in my purpose, And (as I am a gentleman) ile giue thee A hundred pound in gold, more then your losse

Host. I will heare you (Master Fenton) and I will (at the least) keepe your counsell

Fen. From time to time, I haue acquainted you With the deare loue I beare to faire Anne Page, Who, mutually, hath answer'd my affection, (So farre forth, as her selfe might be her chooser) Euen to my wish; I haue a letter from her Of such contents, as you will wonder at; The mirth whereof, so larded with my matter, That neither (singly) can be manifested Without the shew of both: fat Falstaffe Hath a great Scene; the image of the iest Ile show you here at large (harke good mine Host:) To night at Hernes-Oke, iust 'twixt twelue and one, Must my sweet Nan present the Faerie-Queene: The purpose why, is here: in which disguise While other Iests are something ranke on foote, Her father hath commanded her to slip Away with Slender, and with him, at Eaton Immediately to Marry: She hath consented: Now Sir, Her Mother, (euen strong against that match And firme for Doctor Caius) hath appointed That he shall likewise shuffle her away, While other sports are tasking of their mindes, And at the Deanry, where a Priest attends Strait marry her: to this her Mothers plot She seemingly obedient) likewise hath Made promise to the Doctor: Now, thus it rests, Her Father meanes she shall be all in white; And in that habit, when Slender sees his time To take her by the hand, and bid her goe, She shall goe with him: her Mother hath intended (The better to deuote her to the Doctor; For they must all be mask'd, and vizarded) That quaint in greene, she shall be loose en-roab'd, With Ribonds-pendant, flaring 'bout her head; And when the Doctor spies his vantage ripe, To pinch her by the hand, and on that token, The maid hath giuen consent to go with him

Host. Which meanes she to deceiue? Father, or Mother

Fen. Both (my good Host) to go along with me: And heere it rests, that you'l procure the Vicar To stay for me at Church, 'twixt twelue, and one, And in the lawfull name of marrying, To giue our hearts vnited ceremony

Host. Well, husband your deuice; Ile to the Vicar, Bring you the Maid, you shall not lacke a Priest

Fen. So shall I euermore be bound to thee; Besides, Ile make a present recompence.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Falstoffe, Quickly, and Ford.

Fal. Pre'thee no more pratling: go, Ile hold, this is the third time: I hope good lucke lies in odde numbers: Away, go, they say there is Diuinity in odde Numbers, either in natiuity, chance, or death: away

Qui. Ile prouide you a chaine, and Ile do what I can to get you a paire of hornes

Fall. Away I say, time weares, hold vp your head & mince. How now M[aster]. Broome? Master Broome, the matter will be knowne to night, or neuer. Bee you in the Parke about midnight, at Hernes-Oake, and you shall see wonders

Ford. Went you not to her yesterday (Sir) as you told me you had appointed? Fal. I went to her (Master Broome) as you see, like a poore-old-man, but I came from her (Master Broome) like a poore-old-woman; that same knaue (Ford hir husband) hath the finest mad diuell of iealousie in him (Master Broome) that euer gouern'd Frensie. I will tell you, he beate me greeuously, in the shape of a woman: (for in the shape of Man (Master Broome) I feare not Goliath with a Weauers beame, because I know also, life is a Shuttle) I am in hast, go along with mee, Ile tell you all (Master Broome:) since I pluckt Geese, plaide Trewant, and whipt Top, I knew not what 'twas to be beaten, till lately. Follow mee, Ile tell you strange things of this knaue Ford, on whom to night I will be reuenged, and I will deliuer his wife into your hand. Follow, straunge things in hand (M[aster]. Broome) follow.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Page, Shallow, Slender.

Page. Come, come: wee'll couch i'th Castle-ditch, till we see the light of our Fairies. Remember son Slender, my Slen. I forsooth, I haue spoke with her, & we haue a nay-word, how to know one another. I come to her in white, and cry Mum; she cries Budget, and by that we know one another

Shal. That's good too: But what needes either your Mum, or her Budget? The white will decipher her well enough. It hath strooke ten a' clocke

Page. The night is darke, Light and Spirits will become it wel: Heauen prosper our sport. No man means euill but the deuill, and we shal know him by his hornes. Lets away: follow me.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Mist.Page, Mist.Ford, Caius.

Mist.Page. Mr Doctor, my daughter is in green, when you see your time, take her by the hand, away with her to the Deanerie, and dispatch it quickly: go before into the Parke: we two must go together

Cai. I know vat I haue to do, adieu

Mist.Page. Fare you well (Sir:) my husband will not reioyce so much at the abuse of Falstaffe, as he will chafe at the Doctors marrying my daughter: But 'tis no matter; better a little chiding, then a great deale of heartbreake

Mist.Ford. Where is Nan now? and her troop of Fairies? and the Welch-deuill Herne? Mist.Page. They are all couch'd in a pit hard by Hernes Oake, with obscur'd Lights; which at the very instant of Falstaffes and our meeting, they will at once display to the night

Mist.Ford. That cannot choose but amaze him

Mist.Page. If he be not amaz'd he will be mock'd: If he be amaz'd, he will euery way be mock'd

Mist.Ford. Wee'll betray him finely

Mist.Page. Against such Lewdsters, and their lechery, Those that betray them, do no treachery

Mist.Ford. The houre drawes-on: to the Oake, to the Oake.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Euans and Fairies.

Euans. Trib, trib Fairies: Come, and remember your parts: be pold (I pray you) follow me into the pit, and when I giue the watch-'ords, do as I pid you: Come, come, trib, trib.

Exeunt.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Falstaffe, Mistris Page, Mistris Ford, Euans, Anne Page, Fairies, Page, Ford, Quickly, Slender, Fenton, Caius, Pistoll.

Fal. The Windsor-bell hath stroke twelue: the Minute drawes-on: Now the hot-bloodied-Gods assist me: Remember Ioue, thou was't a Bull for thy Europa, Loue set on thy hornes. O powerfull Loue, that in some respects makes a Beast a Man: in som other, a Man a beast. You were also (Iupiter) a Swan, for the loue of Leda: O omnipotent Loue, how nere the God drew to the complexion of a Goose: a fault done first in the forme of a beast, (O Ioue, a beastly fault:) and then another fault, in the semblance of a Fowle, thinke on't (Ioue) a fowle-fault. When Gods haue hot backes, what shall poore men do? For me, I am heere a Windsor Stagge, and the fattest (I thinke) i'th Forrest. Send me a coole rut-time (Ioue) or who can blame me to pisse my Tallow? Who comes heere? my Doe? M.Ford. Sir Iohn? Art thou there (my Deere?) My male-Deere? Fal. My Doe, with the blacke Scut? Let the skie raine Potatoes: let it thunder, to the tune of Greenesleeues, haile-kissing Comfits, and snow Eringoes: Let there come a tempest of prouocation, I will shelter mee heere

M.Ford. Mistris Page is come with me (sweet hart.) Fal. Diuide me like a brib'd-Bucke, each a Haunch: I will keepe my sides to my selfe, my shoulders for the fellow of this walke; and my hornes I bequeath your husbands. Am I a Woodman, ha? Speake I like Herne the Hunter? Why, now is Cupid a child of conscience, he makes restitution. As I am a true spirit, welcome

M.Page. Alas, what noise? M.Ford. Heauen forgiue our sinnes

Fal. What should this be? M.Ford. M.Page. Away, away

Fal. I thinke the diuell wil not haue me damn'd, Least the oyle that's in me should set hell on fire; He would neuer else crosse me thus.

Enter Fairies.

Qui. Fairies blacke, gray, greene, and white, You Moone-shine reuellers, and shades of night. You Orphan heires of fixed destiny, Attend your office, and your quality. Crier Hob-goblyn, make the Fairy Oyes

Pist. Elues, list your names: Silence you aiery toyes. Cricket, to Windsor-chimnies shalt thou leape; Where fires thou find'st vnrak'd, and hearths vnswept, There pinch the Maids as blew as Bill-berry, Our radiant Queene, hates Sluts, and Sluttery

Fal. They are Fairies, he that speaks to them shall die, Ile winke, and couch: No man their workes must eie

Eu. Wher's Bede? Go you, and where you find a maid That ere she sleepe has thrice her prayers said, Raise vp the Organs of her fantasie, Sleepe she as sound as carelesse infancie, But those as sleepe, and thinke not on their sins, Pinch them armes, legs, backes, shoulders, sides, & shins

Qu. About, about: Search Windsor Castle (Elues) within, and out. Strew good lucke (Ouphes) on euery sacred roome, That it may stand till the perpetuall doome, In state as wholsome, as in state 'tis fit, Worthy the Owner, and the Owner it. The seuerall Chaires of Order, looke you scowre With iuyce of Balme; and euery precious flowre, Each faire Instalment, Coate, and seu'rall Crest, With loyall Blazon, euermore be blest. And Nightly-meadow-Fairies, looke you sing Like to the Garters-Compasse, in a ring Th' expressure that it beares: Greene let it be, More fertile-fresh then all the Field to see: And, Hony Soit Qui Maly-Pence, write In Emrold-tuffes, Flowres purple, blew, and white, Like Saphire-pearle, and rich embroiderie, Buckled below faire Knight-hoods bending knee; Fairies vse Flowres for their characterie. Away, disperse: But till 'tis one a clocke, Our Dance of Custome, round about the Oke Of Herne the Hunter, let vs not forget

Euan. Pray you lock hand in hand: your selues in order set: And twenty glow-wormes shall our Lanthornes bee To guide our Measure round about the Tree. But stay, I smell a man of middle earth

Fal. Heauens defend me from that Welsh Fairy, Least he transforme me to a peece of Cheese

Pist. Vilde worme, thou wast ore-look'd euen in thy birth

Qu. With Triall-fire touch me his finger end: If he be chaste, the flame will backe descend And turne him to no paine: but if he start, It is the flesh of a corrupted hart

Pist. A triall, come

Eua. Come: will this wood take fire? Fal. Oh, oh, oh

Qui. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire. About him (Fairies) sing a scornfull rime, And as you trip, still pinch him to your time.

The Song.

Fie on sinnefull phantasie: Fie on Lust, and Luxurie: Lust is but a bloudy fire, kindled with vnchaste desire, Fed in heart whose flames aspire, As thoughts do blow them higher and higher. Pinch him (Fairies) mutually: Pinch him for his villanie. Pinch him, and burne him, and turne him about, Till Candles, & Star-light, & Moone-shine be out

Page. Nay do not flye, I thinke we haue watcht you now: Will none but Herne the Hunter serue your turne? M.Page. I pray you come, hold vp the iest no higher. Now (good Sir Iohn) how like you Windsor wiues? See you these husband? Do not these faire yoakes Become the Forrest better then the Towne? Ford. Now Sir, whose a Cuckold now? Mr Broome, Falstaffes a Knaue, a Cuckoldly knaue, Heere are his hornes Master Broome: And Master Broome, he hath enioyed nothing of Fords, but his Buck-basket, his cudgell, and twenty pounds of money, which must be paid to Mr Broome, his horses are arrested for it, Mr Broome

M.Ford. Sir Iohn, we haue had ill lucke: wee could neuer meete: I will neuer take you for my Loue againe, but I will alwayes count you my Deere

Fal. I do begin to perceiue that I am made an Asse

Ford. I, and an Oxe too: both the proofes are extant

Fal. And these are not Fairies: I was three or foure times in the thought they were not Fairies, and yet the guiltinesse of my minde, the sodaine surprize of my powers, droue the grossenesse of the foppery into a receiu'd beleefe, in despight of the teeth of all rime and reason, that they were Fairies. See now how wit may be made a Iacke-a-Lent, when 'tis vpon ill imployment

Euans. Sir Iohn Falstaffe, serue Got, and leaue your desires, and Fairies will not pinse you

Ford. Well said Fairy Hugh

Euans. And leaue you your iealouzies too, I pray you

Ford. I will neuer mistrust my wife againe, till thou art able to woo her in good English

Fal. Haue I laid my braine in the Sun, and dri'de it, that it wants matter to preuent so grosse ore-reaching as this? Am I ridden with a Welch Goate too? Shal I haue a Coxcombe of Frize? Tis time I were choak'd with a peece of toasted Cheese

Eu. Seese is not good to giue putter; your belly is al putter

Fal. Seese, and Putter? Haue I liu'd to stand at the taunt of one that makes Fritters of English? This is enough to be the decay of lust and late-walking through the Realme

Mist.Page. Why Sir Iohn, do you thinke though wee would haue thrust vertue out of our hearts by the head and shoulders, and haue giuen our selues without scruple to hell, that euer the deuill could haue made you our delight? Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? A bag of flax? Mist.Page. A puft man? Page. Old, cold, wither'd, and of intollerable entrailes? Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Sathan? Page. And as poore as Iob? Ford. And as wicked as his wife? Euan. And giuen to Fornications, and to Tauernes, and Sacke, and Wine, and Metheglins, and to drinkings and swearings, and starings? Pribles and prables? Fal. Well, I am your Theame: you haue the start of me, I am deiected: I am not able to answer the Welch Flannell, Ignorance it selfe is a plummet ore me, vse me as you will

Ford. Marry Sir, wee'l bring you to Windsor to one Mr Broome, that you haue cozon'd of money, to whom you should haue bin a Pander: ouer and aboue that you haue suffer'd, I thinke, to repay that money will be a biting affliction

Page. Yet be cheerefull Knight: thou shalt eat a posset to night at my house, wher I will desire thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughes at thee: Tell her Mr Slender hath married her daughter

Mist.Page. Doctors doubt that; If Anne Page be my daughter, she is (by this) Doctour Caius wife

Slen. Whoa hoe, hoe, Father Page

Page. Sonne? How now? How now Sonne, Haue you dispatch'd? Slen. Dispatch'd? Ile make the best in Glostershire know on't: would I were hang'd la, else

Page. Of what sonne? Slen. I came yonder at Eaton to marry Mistris Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy. If it had not bene i'th Church, I would haue swing'd him, or hee should haue swing'd me. If I did not thinke it had beene Anne Page, would I might neuer stirre, and 'tis a Post-masters Boy

Page. Vpon my life then, you tooke the wrong

Slen. What neede you tell me that? I think so, when I tooke a Boy for a Girle: If I had bene married to him, (for all he was in womans apparrell) I would not haue had him

Page. Why this is your owne folly, Did not I tell you how you should know my daughter, By her garments? Slen. I went to her in greene, and cried Mum, and she cride budget, as Anne and I had appointed, and yet it was not Anne, but a Post-masters boy

Mist.Page. Good George be not angry, I knew of your purpose: turn'd my daughter into white, and indeede she is now with the Doctor at the Deanrie, and there married

Cai. Ver is Mistris Page: by gar I am cozoned, I ha married oon Garsoon, a boy; oon pesant, by gar. A boy, it is not An Page, by gar, I am cozened

M.Page. Why? did you take her in white? Cai. I bee gar, and 'tis a boy: be gar, Ile raise all Windsor

Ford. This is strange: Who hath got the right Anne? Page. My heart misgiues me, here comes Mr Fenton. How now Mr Fenton? Anne. Pardon good father, good my mother pardon Page. Now Mistris: How chance you went not with Mr Slender? M.Page. Why went you not with Mr Doctor, maid? Fen. You do amaze her: heare the truth of it, You would haue married her most shamefully, Where there was no proportion held in loue: The truth is, she and I (long since contracted) Are now so sure that nothing can dissolue vs: Th' offence is holy, that she hath committed, And this deceit looses the name of craft, Of disobedience, or vnduteous title, Since therein she doth euitate and shun A thousand irreligious cursed houres Which forced marriage would haue brought vpon her

Ford. Stand not amaz'd, here is no remedie: In Loue, the heauens themselues do guide the state, Money buyes Lands, and wiues are sold by fate

Fal. I am glad, though you haue tane a special stand to strike at me, that your Arrow hath glanc'd

Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heauen giue thee ioy, what cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd

Fal. When night-dogges run, all sorts of Deere are chac'd

Mist.Page. Well, I will muse no further: Mr Fenton, Heauen giue you many, many merry dayes: Good husband, let vs euery one go home, And laugh this sport ore by a Countrie fire, Sir Iohn and all

Ford. Let it be so (Sir Iohn:) To Master Broome, you yet shall hold your word, For he, to night, shall lye with Mistris Ford:

Exeunt.

FINIS. THE Merry Wiues of Windsor.

Measvre, For Measure

Actus primus, Scena prima.

Enter Duke, Escalus, Lords.

Duke. Escalus

Esc. My Lord

Duk. Of Gouernment, the properties to vnfold, Would seeme in me t' affect speech & discourse, Since I am put to know, that your owne Science Exceedes (in that) the lists of all aduice My strength can giue you: Then no more remaines But that, to your sufficiency, as your worth is able, And let them worke: The nature of our People, Our Cities Institutions, and the Termes For Common Iustice, y'are as pregnant in As Art, and practise, hath inriched any That we remember: There is our Commission, From which, we would not haue you warpe; call hither, I say, bid come before vs Angelo: What figure of vs thinke you, he will beare. For you must know, we haue with speciall soule Elected him our absence to supply; Lent him our terror, drest him with our loue, And giuen his Deputation all the Organs Of our owne powre: What thinke you of it? Esc. If any in Vienna be of worth To vndergoe such ample grace, and honour, It is Lord Angelo.

Enter Angelo.

Duk. Looke where he comes

Ang. Alwayes obedient to your Graces will, I come to know your pleasure

Duke. Angelo: There is a kinde of Character in thy life, That to th' obseruer, doth thy history Fully vnfold: Thy selfe, and thy belongings Are not thine owne so proper, as to waste Thy selfe vpon thy vertues; they on thee: Heauen doth with vs, as we, with Torches doe, Not light them for themselues: For if our vertues Did not goe forth of vs, 'twere all alike As if we had them not: Spirits are not finely touch'd, But to fine issues: nor nature neuer lends The smallest scruple of her excellence, But like a thrifty goddesse, she determines Her selfe the glory of a creditour, Both thanks, and vse; but I do bend my speech To one that can my part in him aduertise; Hold therefore Angelo: In our remoue, be thou at full, our selfe: Mortallitie and Mercie in Vienna Liue in thy tongue, and heart: Old Escalus Though first in question, is thy secondary. Take thy Commission

Ang. Now good my Lord Let there be some more test, made of my mettle, Before so noble, and so great a figure Be stamp't vpon it

Duk. No more euasion: We haue with a leauen'd, and prepared choice Proceeded to you; therefore take your honors: Our haste from hence is of so quicke condition, That it prefers it selfe, and leaues vnquestion'd Matters of needfull value: We shall write to you As time, and our concernings shall importune, How it goes with vs, and doe looke to know What doth befall you here. So fare you well: To th' hopefull execution doe I leaue you, Of your Commissions

Ang. Yet giue leaue (my Lord,) That we may bring you something on the way

Duk. My haste may not admit it, Nor neede you (on mine honor) haue to doe With any scruple: your scope is as mine owne, So to inforce, or qualifie the Lawes As to your soule seemes good: Giue me your hand, Ile priuily away: I loue the people, But doe not like to stage me to their eyes: Though it doe well, I doe not rellish well Their lowd applause, and Aues vehement: Nor doe I thinke the man of safe discretion That do's affect it. Once more fare you well

Ang. The heauens giue safety to your purposes

Esc. Lead forth, and bring you backe in happinesse.

Enter.

Duk. I thanke you, fare you well

Esc. I shall desire you, Sir, to giue me leaue To haue free speech with you; and it concernes me To looke into the bottome of my place: A powre I haue, but of what strength and nature, I am not yet instructed

Ang. 'Tis so with me: Let vs withdraw together, And we may soone our satisfaction haue Touching that point

Esc. Ile wait vpon your honor.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Lucio, and two other Gentlemen.

Luc. If the Duke, with the other Dukes, come not to composition with the King of Hungary, why then all the Dukes fall vpon the King

1.Gent. Heauen grant vs its peace, but not the King of Hungaries

2.Gent. Amen

Luc. Thou conclud'st like the Sanctimonious Pirat, that went to sea with the ten Commandements, but scrap'd one out of the Table

2.Gent. Thou shalt not Steale? Luc. I, that he raz'd

1.Gent. Why? 'twas a commandement, to command the Captaine and all the rest from their functions: they put forth to steale: There's not a Souldier of vs all, that in the thanks-giuing before meate, do rallish the petition well, that praies for peace

2.Gent. I neuer heard any Souldier dislike it

Luc. I beleeue thee: for I thinke thou neuer was't where Grace was said

2.Gent. No? a dozen times at least

1.Gent. What? In meeter? Luc. In any proportion: or in any language

1.Gent. I thinke, or in any Religion

Luc. I, why not? Grace, is Grace, despight of all controuersie: as for example; Thou thy selfe art a wicked villaine, despight of all Grace

1.Gent. Well: there went but a paire of sheeres betweene vs

Luc. I grant: as there may betweene the Lists, and the Veluet. Thou art the List

1.Gent. And thou the Veluet; thou art good veluet; thou'rt a three pild-peece I warrant thee: I had as liefe be a Lyst of an English Kersey, as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French Veluet. Do I speake feelingly now? Luc. I thinke thou do'st: and indeed with most painfull feeling of thy speech: I will, out of thine owne confession, learne to begin thy health; but, whilst I liue forget to drinke after thee

1.Gen. I think I haue done my selfe wrong, haue I not? 2.Gent. Yes, that thou hast; whether thou art tainted, or free.

Enter Bawde.

Luc. Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation comes. I haue purchas'd as many diseases vnder her Roofe, As come to 2.Gent. To what, I pray? Luc. Iudge

2.Gent. To three thousand Dollours a yeare

1.Gent. I, and more

Luc. A French crowne more

1.Gent. Thou art alwayes figuring diseases in me; but thou art full of error, I am sound

Luc. Nay, not (as one would say) healthy: but so sound, as things that are hollow; thy bones are hollow; Impiety has made a feast of thee

1.Gent. How now, which of your hips has the most profound Ciatica? Bawd. Well, well: there's one yonder arrested, and carried to prison, was worth fiue thousand of you all

2.Gent. Who's that I pray'thee? Bawd. Marry Sir, that's Claudio, Signior Claudio

1.Gent. Claudio to prison? 'tis not so

Bawd. Nay, but I know 'tis so: I saw him arrested: saw him carried away: and which is more, within these three daies his head to be chop'd off

Luc. But, after all this fooling, I would not haue it so: Art thou sure of this? Bawd. I am too sure of it: and it is for getting Madam Iulietta with childe

Luc. Beleeue me this may be: he promis'd to meete me two howres since, and he was euer precise in promise keeping

2.Gent. Besides you know, it drawes somthing neere to the speech we had to such a purpose

1.Gent. But most of all agreeing with the proclamatio[n]

Luc. Away: let's goe learne the truth of it.

Enter.

Bawd. Thus, what with the war; what with the sweat, what with the gallowes, and what with pouerty, I am Custom-shrunke. How now? what's the newes with you.

Enter Clowne.

Clo. Yonder man is carried to prison

Baw. Well: what has he done? Clo. A Woman

Baw. But what's his offence? Clo. Groping for Trowts, in a peculiar Riuer

Baw. What? is there a maid with child by him? Clo. No: but there's a woman with maid by him: you haue not heard of the proclamation, haue you? Baw. What proclamation, man? Clow. All howses in the Suburbs of Vienna must bee pluck'd downe

Bawd. And what shall become of those in the Citie? Clow. They shall stand for seed: they had gon down to, but that a wise Burger put in for them

Bawd. But shall all our houses of resort in the Suburbs be puld downe? Clow. To the ground, Mistris

Bawd. Why heere's a change indeed in the Commonwealth: what shall become of me? Clow. Come: feare not you; good Counsellors lacke no Clients: though you change your place, you neede not change your Trade: Ile bee your Tapster still; courage, there will bee pitty taken on you; you that haue worne your eyes almost out in the seruice, you will bee considered

Bawd. What's to doe heere, Thomas Tapster? let's withdraw? Clo. Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the Prouost to prison: and there's Madam Iuliet.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Prouost, Claudio, Iuliet, Officers, Lucio, & 2.Gent.

Cla. Fellow, why do'st thou show me thus to th' world? Beare me to prison, where I am committed

Pro. I do it not in euill disposition, But from Lord Angelo by speciall charge

Clau. Thus can the demy-god (Authority) Make vs pay downe, for our offence, by waight The words of heauen; on whom it will, it will, On whom it will not (soe) yet still 'tis iust

Luc. Why how now Claudio? whence comes this restraint

Cla. From too much liberty, (my Lucio) Liberty As surfet is the father of much fast, So euery Scope by the immoderate vse Turnes to restraint: Our Natures doe pursue Like Rats that rauyn downe their proper Bane, A thirsty euill, and when we drinke, we die

Luc. If I could speake so wisely vnder an arrest, I would send for certaine of my Creditors: and yet, to say the truth, I had as lief haue the foppery of freedome, as the mortality of imprisonment: what's thy offence, Claudio? Cla. What (but to speake of) would offend againe

Luc. What, is't murder? Cla. No

Luc. Lecherie? Cla. Call it so

Pro. Away, Sir, you must goe

Cla. One word, good friend: Lucio, a word with you

Luc. A hundred: If they'll doe you any good: Is Lechery so look'd after? Cla. Thus stands it with me: vpon a true contract I got possession of Iulietas bed, You know the Lady, she is fast my wife, Saue that we doe the denunciation lacke Of outward Order. This we came not to, Onely for propogation of a Dowre Remaining in the Coffer of her friends, From whom we thought it meet to hide our Loue Till Time had made them for vs. But it chances The stealth of our most mutuall entertainment With Character too grosse, is writ on Iuliet

Luc. With childe, perhaps? Cla. Vnhappely, euen so. And the new Deputie, now for the Duke, Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newnes, Or whether that the body publique, be A horse whereon the Gouernor doth ride, Who newly in the Seate, that it may know He can command; lets it strait feele the spur: Whether the Tirranny be in his place, Or in his Eminence that fills it vp I stagger in: But this new Gouernor Awakes me all the inrolled penalties Which haue (like vn-scowr'd Armor) hung by th' wall So long, that ninteene Zodiacks haue gone round, And none of them beene worne; and for a name Now puts the drowsie and neglected Act Freshly on me: 'tis surely for a name

Luc. I warrant it is: And thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders, that a milke-maid, if she be in loue, may sigh it off: Send after the Duke, and appeale to him

Cla. I haue done so, but hee's not to be found. I pre'thee (Lucio) doe me this kinde seruice: This day, my sister should the Cloyster enter, And there receiue her approbation. Acquaint her with the danger of my state, Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends To the strict deputie: bid her selfe assay him, I haue great hope in that: for in her youth There is a prone and speechlesse dialect, Such as moue men: beside, she hath prosperous Art When she will play with reason, and discourse, And well she can perswade

Luc. I pray shee may; aswell for the encouragement of the like, which else would stand vnder greeuous imposition: as for the enioying of thy life, who I would be sorry should bee thus foolishly lost, at a game of ticketacke: Ile to her

Cla. I thanke you good friend Lucio

Luc. Within two houres

Cla. Come Officer, away.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Duke and Frier Thomas.

Duk. No: holy Father, throw away that thought, Beleeue not that the dribling dart of Loue Can pierce a compleat bosome: why, I desire thee To giue me secret harbour, hath a purpose More graue, and wrinkled, then the aimes, and ends Of burning youth

Fri. May your Grace speake of it? Duk. My holy Sir, none better knowes then you How I haue euer lou'd the life remoued And held in idle price, to haunt assemblies Where youth, and cost, witlesse brauery keepes. I haue deliuerd to Lord Angelo (A man of stricture and firme abstinence) My absolute power, and place here in Vienna, And he supposes me trauaild to Poland, (For so I haue strewd it in the common eare) And so it is receiu'd: Now (pious Sir) You will demand of me, why I do this

Fri. Gladly, my Lord

Duk. We haue strict Statutes, and most biting Laws, (The needfull bits and curbes to headstrong weedes,) Which for this foureteene yeares, we haue let slip, Euen like an ore-growne Lyon in a Caue That goes not out to prey: Now, as fond Fathers, Hauing bound vp the threatning twigs of birch, Onely to sticke it in their childrens sight, For terror, not to vse: in time the rod More mock'd, then fear'd: so our Decrees, Dead to infliction, to themselues are dead, And libertie, plucks Iustice by the nose; The Baby beates the Nurse, and quite athwart Goes all decorum

Fri. It rested in your Grace To vnloose this tyde-vp Iustice, when you pleas'd: And it in you more dreadfull would haue seem'd Then in Lord Angelo

Duk. I doe feare: too dreadfull: Sith 'twas my fault, to giue the people scope, 'Twould be my tirrany to strike and gall them, For what I bid them doe: For, we bid this be done When euill deedes haue their permissiue passe, And not the punishment: therefore indeede (my father) I haue on Angelo impos'd the office, Who may in th' ambush of my name, strike home, And yet, my nature neuer in the sight To do in slander: And to behold his sway I will, as 'twere a brother of your Order, Visit both Prince, and People: Therefore I pre'thee Supply me with the habit, and instruct me How I may formally in person beare Like a true Frier: Moe reasons for this action At our more leysure, shall I render you; Onely, this one: Lord Angelo is precise, Stands at a guard with Enuie: scarce confesses That his blood flowes: or that his appetite Is more to bread then stone: hence shall we see If power change purpose: what our Seemers be.

Enter.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Isabell and Francisca a Nun.

Isa. And haue you Nuns no farther priuiledges? Nun. Are not these large enough? Isa. Yes truely; I speake not as desiring more, But rather wishing a more strict restraint Vpon the Sisterhood, the Votarists of Saint Clare.

Lucio within.

Luc. Hoa? peace be in this place

Isa. Who's that which cals? Nun. It is a mans voice: gentle Isabella Turne you the key, and know his businesse of him; You may; I may not: you are yet vnsworne: When you haue vowd, you must not speake with men, But in the presence of the Prioresse; Then if you speake, you must not show your face; Or if you show your face, you must not speake. He cals againe: I pray you answere him

Isa. Peace and prosperitie: who is't that cals? Luc. Haile Virgin, (if you be) as those cheeke-Roses Proclaime you are no lesse: can you so steed me, As bring me to the sight of Isabella, A Nouice of this place, and the faire Sister To her vnhappie brother Claudio? Isa. Why her vnhappy Brother? Let me aske, The rather for I now must make you know I am that Isabella, and his Sister

Luc. Gentle & faire: your Brother kindly greets you; Not to be weary with you; he's in prison

Isa. Woe me; for what? Luc. For that, which if my selfe might be his Iudge, He should receiue his punishment, in thankes: He hath got his friend with childe

Isa. Sir, make me not your storie

Luc. 'Tis true; I would not, though 'tis my familiar sin, With Maids to seeme the Lapwing, and to iest Tongue, far from heart: play with all Virgins so: I hold you as a thing en-skied, and sainted, By your renouncement, an imortall spirit And to be talk'd with in sincerity, As with a Saint

Isa. You doe blaspheme the good, in mocking me

Luc. Doe not beleeue it: fewnes, and truth; tis thus, Your brother, and his louer haue embrac'd; As those that feed, grow full: as blossoming Time That from the seednes, the bare fallow brings To teeming foyson: euen so her plenteous wombe Expresseth his full Tilth, and husbandry

Isa. Some one with childe by him? my cosen Iuliet? Luc. Is she your cosen? Isa. Adoptedly, as schoole-maids change their names By vaine, though apt affection

Luc. She it is

Isa. Oh, let him marry her

Luc. This is the point. The Duke is very strangely gone from hence; Bore many gentlemen (my selfe being one) In hand, and hope of action: but we doe learne, By those that know the very Nerues of State, His giuing-out, were of an infinite distance From his true meant designe: vpon his place, (And with full line of his authority) Gouernes Lord Angelo; A man, whose blood Is very snow-broth: one, who neuer feeles The wanton stings, and motions of the sence; But doth rebate, and blunt his naturall edge With profits of the minde: Studie, and fast He (to giue feare to vse, and libertie, Which haue, for long, run-by the hideous law, As Myce, by Lyons) hath pickt out an act, Vnder whose heauy sence, your brothers life Fals into forfeit: he arrests him on it, And followes close the rigor of the Statute To make him an example: all hope is gone, Vnlesse you haue the grace, by your faire praier To soften Angelo: And that's my pith of businesse 'Twixt you, and your poore brother

Isa. Doth he so, Seeke his life? Luc. Has censur'd him already, And as I heare, the Prouost hath a warrant For's execution

Isa. Alas: what poore Abilitie's in me, to doe him good

Luc. Assay the powre you haue

Isa. My power? alas, I doubt

Luc. Our doubts are traitors And makes vs loose the good we oft might win, By fearing to attempt: Goe to Lord Angelo And let him learne to know, when Maidens sue Men giue like gods: but when they weepe and kneele, All their petitions, are as freely theirs As they themselues would owe them

Isa. Ile see what I can doe

Luc. But speedily

Isa. I will about it strait; No longer staying, but to giue the Mother Notice of my affaire: I humbly thanke you: Commend me to my brother: soone at night Ile send him certaine word of my successe

Luc. I take my leaue of you

Isa. Good sir, adieu.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Angelo, Escalus, and seruants, Iustice.

Ang. We must not make a scar-crow of the Law, Setting it vp to feare the Birds of prey, And let it keepe one shape, till custome make it Their pearch, and not their terror

Esc. I, but yet Let vs be keene, and rather cut a little Then fall, and bruise to death: alas, this gentleman Whom I would saue, had a most noble father, Let but your honour know (Whom I beleeue to be most strait in vertue) That in the working of your owne affections, Had time coheard with Place, or place with wishing, Or that the resolute acting of our blood Could haue attaind th' effect of your owne purpose, Whether you had not sometime in your life Er'd in this point, which now you censure him, And puld the Law vpon you

Ang. 'Tis one thing to be tempted (Escalus) Another thing to fall: I not deny The Iury passing on the Prisoners life May in the sworne-twelue haue a thiefe, or two Guiltier then him they try; what's open made to Iustice, That Iustice ceizes; What knowes the Lawes That theeues do passe on theeues? 'Tis very pregnant, The Iewell that we finde, we stoope, and take't, Because we see it; but what we doe not see, We tread vpon, and neuer thinke of it. You may not so extenuate his offence, For I haue had such faults; but rather tell me When I, that censure him, do so offend, Let mine owne Iudgement patterne out my death, And nothing come in partiall. Sir, he must dye.

Enter Prouost.

Esc. Be it as your wisedome will

Ang. Where is the Prouost? Pro. Here if it like your honour

Ang. See that Claudio Be executed by nine to morrow morning, Bring him his Confessor, let him be prepar'd, For that's the vtmost of his pilgrimage

Esc. Well: heauen forgiue him; and forgiue vs all: Some rise by sinne, and some by vertue fall: Some run from brakes of Ice, and answere none, And some condemned for a fault alone.

Enter Elbow, Froth, Clowne, Officers.

Elb. Come, bring them away: if these be good people in a Common-weale, that doe nothing but vse their abuses in common houses, I know no law: bring them away

Ang. How now Sir, what's your name? And what's the matter? Elb. If it please your honour, I am the poore Dukes Constable, and my name is Elbow; I doe leane vpon Iustice Sir, and doe bring in here before your good honor, two notorious Benefactors

Ang. Benefactors? Well: What Benefactors are they? Are they not Malefactors? Elb. If it please your honour, I know not well what they are: But precise villaines they are, that I am sure of, and void of all prophanation in the world, that good Christians ought to haue

Esc. This comes off well: here's a wise Officer

Ang. Goe to: What quality are they of? Elbow is your name? Why do'st thou not speake Elbow? Clo. He cannot Sir: he's out at Elbow

Ang. What are you Sir? Elb. He Sir: a Tapster Sir: parcell Baud: one that serues a bad woman: whose house Sir was (as they say) pluckt downe in the Suborbs: and now shee professes a hot-house; which, I thinke is a very ill house too

Esc. How know you that? Elb. My wife Sir? whom I detest before heauen, and your honour

Esc. How? thy wife? Elb. I Sir: whom I thanke heauen is an honest woman

Esc. Do'st thou detest her therefore? Elb. I say sir, I will detest my selfe also, as well as she, that this house, if it be not a Bauds house, it is pitty of her life, for it is a naughty house

Esc. How do'st thou know that, Constable? Elb. Marry sir, by my wife, who, if she had bin a woman Cardinally giuen, might haue bin accus'd in fornication, adultery, and all vncleanlinesse there

Esc. By the womans meanes? Elb. I sir, by Mistris Ouerdons meanes: but as she spit in his face, so she defide him

Clo. Sir, if it please your honor, this is not so

Elb. Proue it before these varlets here, thou honorable man, proue it

Esc. Doe you heare how he misplaces? Clo. Sir, she came in great with childe: and longing (sauing your honors reuerence) for stewd prewyns; sir, we had but two in the house, which at that very distant time stood, as it were in a fruit dish (a dish of some three pence; your honours haue seene such dishes) they are not China-dishes, but very good dishes

Esc. Go too: go too: no matter for the dish sir

Clo. No indeede sir not of a pin; you are therein in the right: but, to the point: As I say, this Mistris Elbow, being (as I say) with childe, and being great bellied, and longing (as I said) for prewyns: and hauing but two in the dish (as I said) Master Froth here, this very man, hauing eaten the rest (as I said) & (as I say) paying for them very honestly: for, as you know Master Froth, I could not giue you three pence againe

Fro. No indeede

Clo. Very well: you being then (if you be remembred) cracking the stones of the foresaid prewyns

Fro. I, so I did indeede

Clo. Why, very well: I telling you then (if you be remembred) that such a one, and such a one, were past cure of the thing you wot of, vnlesse they kept very good diet, as I told you

Fro. All this is true

Clo. Why very well then

Esc. Come: you are a tedious foole: to the purpose: what was done to Elbowes wife, that hee hath cause to complaine of? Come me to what was done to her

Clo. Sir, your honor cannot come to that yet

Esc. No sir, nor I meane it not

Clo. Sir, but you shall come to it, by your honours leaue: And I beseech you, looke into Master Froth here sir, a man of foure-score pound a yeare; whose father died at Hallowmas: Was't not at Hallowmas Master Froth? Fro. Allhallond-Eue

Clo. Why very well: I hope here be truthes: he Sir, sitting (as I say) in a lower chaire, Sir, 'twas in the bunch of Grapes, where indeede you haue a delight to sit, haue you not? Fro. I haue so, because it is an open roome, and good for winter

Clo. Why very well then: I hope here be truthes

Ang. This will last out a night in Russia When nights are longest there: Ile take my leaue, And leaue you to the hearing of the cause; Hoping youle finde good cause to whip them all.

Enter.

Esc. I thinke no lesse: good morrow to your Lordship. Now Sir, come on: What was done to Elbowes wife, once more? Clo. Once Sir? there was nothing done to her once

Elb. I beseech you Sir, aske him what this man did to my wife

Clo. I beseech your honor, aske me

Esc. Well sir, what did this Gentleman to her? Clo. I beseech you sir, looke in this Gentlemans face: good Master Froth looke vpon his honor; 'tis for a good purpose: doth your honor marke his face? Esc. I sir, very well

Clo. Nay, I beseech you marke it well

Esc. Well, I doe so

Clo. Doth your honor see any harme in his face? Esc. Why no

Clo. Ile be supposd vpon a booke, his face is the worst thing about him: good then: if his face be the worst thing about him, how could Master Froth doe the Constables wife any harme? I would know that of your honour

Esc. He's in the right (Constable) what say you to it? Elb. First, and it like you, the house is a respected house; next, this is a respected fellow; and his Mistris is a respected woman

Clo. By this hand Sir, his wife is a more respected person then any of vs all

Elb. Varlet, thou lyest; thou lyest wicked varlet: the time is yet to come that shee was euer respected with man, woman, or childe

Clo. Sir, she was respected with him, before he married with her

Esc. Which is the wiser here; Iustice or Iniquitie? Is this true? Elb. O thou caytiffe: O thou varlet: O thou wicked Hanniball; I respected with her, before I was married to her? If euer I was respected with her, or she with me, let not your worship thinke mee the poore Dukes Officer: proue this, thou wicked Hanniball, or ile haue mine action of battry on thee

Esc. If he tooke you a box o'th' eare, you might haue your action of slander too

Elb. Marry I thanke your good worship for it: what is't your Worships pleasure I shall doe with this wicked Caitiffe? Esc. Truly Officer, because he hath some offences in him, that thou wouldst discouer, if thou couldst, let him continue in his courses, till thou knowst what they are

Elb. Marry I thanke your worship for it: Thou seest thou wicked varlet now, what's come vpon thee. Thou art to continue now thou Varlet, thou art to continue

Esc. Where were you borne, friend? Froth. Here in Vienna, Sir

Esc. Are you of fourescore pounds a yeere? Froth. Yes, and't please you sir

Esc. So: what trade are you of, sir? Clo. A Tapster, a poore widdowes Tapster

Esc. Your Mistris name? Clo. Mistris Ouerdon

Esc. Hath she had any more then one husband? Clo. Nine, sir: Ouerdon by the last

Esc. Nine? come hether to me, Master Froth; Master Froth, I would not haue you acquainted with Tapsters; they will draw you Master Froth, and you wil hang them: get you gon, and let me heare no more of you

Fro. I thanke your worship: for mine owne part, I neuer come into any roome in a Tap-house, but I am drawne in

Esc. Well: no more of it Master Froth: farewell: Come you hether to me, Mr. Tapster: what's your name Mr. Tapster? Clo. Pompey

Esc. What else? Clo. Bum, Sir

Esc. Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you, so that in the beastliest sence, you are Pompey the great; Pompey, you are partly a bawd, Pompey; howsoeuer you colour it in being a Tapster, are you not? come, tell me true, it shall be the better for you

Clo. Truly sir, I am a poore fellow that would liue

Esc. How would you liue Pompey? by being a bawd? what doe you thinke of the trade Pompey? is it a lawfull trade? Clo. If the Law would allow it, sir

Esc. But the Law will not allow it Pompey; nor it shall not be allowed in Vienna

Clo. Do's your Worship meane to geld and splay all the youth of the City? Esc. No, Pompey

Clo. Truely Sir, in my poore opinion they will too't then: if your worship will take order for the drabs and the knaues, you need not to feare the bawds

Esc. There is pretty orders beginning I can tell you: It is but heading, and hanging

Clo. If you head, and hang all that offend that way but for ten yeare together; you'll be glad to giue out a Commission for more heads: if this law hold in Vienna ten yeare, ile rent the fairest house in it after three pence a Bay: if you liue to see this come to passe, say Pompey told you so

Esc. Thanke you good Pompey; and in requitall of your prophesie, harke you: I aduise you let me not finde you before me againe vpon any complaint whatsoeuer; no, not for dwelling where you doe: if I doe Pompey, I shall beat you to your Tent, and proue a shrewd Cæsar to you: in plaine dealing Pompey, I shall haue you whipt; so for this time, Pompey, fare you well

Clo. I thanke your Worship for your good counsell; but I shall follow it as the flesh and fortune shall better determine. Whip me? no, no, let Carman whip his Iade, The valiant heart's not whipt out of his trade.

Enter.

Esc. Come hether to me, Master Elbow: come hither Master Constable: how long haue you bin in this place of Constable? Elb. Seuen yeere, and a halfe sir

Esc. I thought by the readinesse in the office, you had continued in it some time: you say seauen yeares together

Elb. And a halfe sir

Esc. Alas, it hath beene great paines to you: they do you wrong to put you so oft vpon't. Are there not men in your Ward sufficient to serue it? Elb. 'Faith sir, few of any wit in such matters: as they are chosen, they are glad to choose me for them; I do it for some peece of money, and goe through with all

Esc. Looke you bring mee in the names of some sixe or seuen, the most sufficient of your parish

Elb. To your Worships house sir? Esc. To my house: fare you well: what's a clocke, thinke you? Iust. Eleuen, Sir

Esc. I pray you home to dinner with me

Iust. I humbly thanke you

Esc. It grieues me for the death of Claudio But there's no remedie: Iust. Lord Angelo is seuere

Esc. It is but needfull. Mercy is not it selfe, that oft lookes so, Pardon is still the nurse of second woe: But yet, poore Claudio; there is no remedie. Come Sir.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Prouost, Seruant.

Ser. Hee's hearing of a Cause; he will come straight, I'le tell him of you

Pro. 'Pray you doe; Ile know His pleasure, may be he will relent; alas He hath but as offended in a dreame, All Sects, all Ages smack of this vice, and he To die for't?

Enter Angelo.

Ang. Now, what's the matter Prouost? Pro. Is it your will Claudio shall die to morrow? Ang. Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order? Why do'st thou aske againe? Pro. Lest I might be too rash: Vnder your good correction I haue seene When after execution, Iudgement hath Repented ore his doome

Ang. Goe to; let that be mine, Doe you your office, or giue vp your Place, And you shall well be spar'd

Pro. I craue your Honours pardon: What shall be done Sir, with the groaning Iuliet? Shee's very neere her howre

Ang. Dispose of her To some more fitter place; and that with speed

Ser. Here is the sister of the man condemn'd, Desires accesse to you

Ang. Hath he a Sister? Pro. I my good Lord, a very vertuous maid, And to be shortlie of a Sister-hood, If not alreadie

Ang. Well: let her be admitted, See you the Fornicatresse be remou'd, Let her haue needfull, but not lauish meanes, There shall be order for't.

Enter Lucio and Isabella.

Pro. 'Saue your Honour

Ang. Stay a little while: y'are welcome: what's your will? Isab. I am a wofull Sutor to your Honour, 'Please but your Honor heare me

Ang. Well: what's your suite

Isab. There is a vice that most I doe abhorre, And most desire should meet the blow of Iustice; For which I would not plead, but that I must, For which I must not plead, but that I am At warre, twixt will, and will not

Ang. Well: the matter? Isab. I haue a brother is condemn'd to die, I doe beseech you let it be his fault, And not my brother

Pro. Heauen giue thee mouing graces

Ang. Condemne the fault, and not the actor of it, Why euery fault's condemnd ere it be done: Mine were the verie Cipher of a Function To fine the faults, whose fine stands in record, And let goe by the Actor

Isab. Oh iust, but seuere Law: I had a brother then; heauen keepe your honour

Luc. Giue't not ore so: to him againe, entreat him, Kneele downe before him, hang vpon his gowne, You are too cold: if you should need a pin, You could not with more tame a tongue desire it: To him, I say

Isab. Must he needs die? Ang. Maiden, no remedie

Isab. Yes: I doe thinke that you might pardon him, And neither heauen, nor man grieue at the mercy

Ang. I will not doe't

Isab. But can you if you would? Ang. Looke what I will not, that I cannot doe

Isab. But might you doe't & do the world no wrong If so your heart were touch'd with that remorse, As mine is to him? Ang. Hee's sentenc'd, tis too late

Luc. You are too cold

Isab. Too late? why no: I that doe speak a word May call it againe: well, beleeue this No ceremony that to great ones longs, Not the Kings Crowne; nor the deputed sword, The Marshalls Truncheon, nor the Iudges Robe Become them with one halfe so good a grace As mercie does: If he had bin as you, and you as he, You would haue slipt like him, but he like you Would not haue beene so sterne

Ang. Pray you be gone

Isab. I would to heauen I had your potencie, And you were Isabell: should it then be thus? No: I would tell what 'twere to be a Iudge, And what a prisoner

Luc. I, touch him: there's the veine

Ang. Your Brother is a forfeit of the Law, And you but waste your words

Isab. Alas, alas: Why all the soules that were, were forfeit once, And he that might the vantage best haue tooke, Found out the remedie: how would you be, If he, which is the top of Iudgement, should But iudge you, as you are? Oh, thinke on that, And mercie then will breathe within your lips Like man new made

Ang. Be you content, (faire Maid) It is the Law, not I, condemne your brother, Were he my kinsman, brother, or my sonne, It should be thus with him: he must die to morrow

Isab. To morrow? oh, that's sodaine, Spare him, spare him: Hee's not prepar'd for death; euen for our kitchins We kill the fowle of season: shall we serue heauen With lesse respect then we doe minister To our grosse-selues? good, good my Lord, bethink you; Who is it that hath di'd for this offence? There's many haue committed it

Luc. I, well said

Ang. The Law hath not bin dead, thogh it hath slept Those many had not dar'd to doe that euill If the first, that did th' Edict infringe Had answer'd for his deed. Now 'tis awake, Takes note of what is done, and like a Prophet Lookes in a glasse that shewes what future euils Either now, or by remissenesse, new conceiu'd, And so in progresse to be hatch'd, and borne, Are now to haue no successiue degrees, But here they liue to end

Isab. Yet shew some pittie

Ang. I shew it most of all, when I show Iustice; For then I pittie those I doe not know, Which a dismis'd offence, would after gaule And doe him right, that answering one foule wrong Liues not to act another. Be satisfied; Your Brother dies to morrow; be content

Isab. So you must be y first that giues this sentence, And hee, that suffers: Oh, it is excellent To haue a Giants strength: but it is tyrannous To vse it like a Giant

Luc. That's well said

Isab. Could great men thunder As Ioue himselfe do's, Ioue would neuer be quiet, For euery pelting petty Officer Would vse his heauen for thunder; Nothing but thunder: Mercifull heauen, Thou rather with thy sharpe and sulpherous bolt Splits the vn-wedgable and gnarled Oke, Then the soft Mertill: But man, proud man, Drest in a little briefe authoritie, Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd, (His glassie Essence) like an angry Ape Plaies such phantastique tricks before high heauen, As makes the Angels weepe: who with our spleenes, Would all themselues laugh mortall

Luc. Oh, to him, to him wench: he will relent, Hee's comming: I perceiue't

Pro. Pray heauen she win him

Isab. We cannot weigh our brother with our selfe, Great men may iest with Saints: tis wit in them, But in the lesse fowle prophanation

Luc. Thou'rt i'th right (Girle) more o'that

Isab. That in the Captaine's but a chollericke word, Which in the Souldier is flat blasphemie

Luc. Art auis'd o'that? more on't

Ang. Why doe you put these sayings vpon me? Isab. Because Authoritie, though it erre like others, Hath yet a kinde of medicine in it selfe That skins the vice o'th top; goe to your bosome, Knock there, and aske your heart what it doth know That's like my brothers fault: if it confesse A naturall guiltinesse, such as is his, Let it not sound a thought vpon your tongue Against my brothers life

Ang. Shee speakes, and 'tis such sence That my Sence breeds with it; fare you well

Isab. Gentle my Lord, turne backe

Ang. I will bethinke me: come againe to morrow

Isa. Hark, how Ile bribe you: good my Lord turn back

Ang. How? bribe me? Is. I, with such gifts that heauen shall share with you

Luc. You had mar'd all else

Isab. Not with fond Sickles of the tested-gold, Or Stones, whose rate are either rich, or poore As fancie values them: but with true prayers, That shall be vp at heauen, and enter there Ere Sunne rise: prayers from preserued soules, From fasting Maides, whose mindes are dedicate To nothing temporall

Ang. Well: come to me to morrow

Luc. Goe to: 'tis well; away

Isab. Heauen keepe your honour safe

Ang. Amen. For I am that way going to temptation, Where prayers crosse

Isab. At what hower to morrow, Shall I attend your Lordship? Ang. At any time 'fore-noone

Isab. 'Saue your Honour

Ang. From thee: euen from thy vertue. What's this? what's this? is this her fault, or mine? The Tempter, or the Tempted, who sins most? ha? Not she: nor doth she tempt: but it is I, That, lying by the Violet in the Sunne, Doe as the Carrion do's, not as the flowre, Corrupt with vertuous season: Can it be, That Modesty may more betray our Sence Then womans lightnesse? hauing waste ground enough, Shall we desire to raze the Sanctuary And pitch our euils there? oh fie, fie, fie: What dost thou? or what art thou Angelo? Dost thou desire her fowly, for those things That make her good? oh, let her brother liue: Theeues for their robbery haue authority, When Iudges steale themselues: what, doe I loue her, That I desire to heare her speake againe? And feast vpon her eyes? what is't I dreame on? Oh cunning enemy, that to catch a Saint, With Saints dost bait thy hooke: most dangerous Is that temptation, that doth goad vs on To sinne, in louing vertue: neuer could the Strumpet With all her double vigor, Art, and Nature Once stir my temper: but this vertuous Maid Subdues me quite: Euer till now When men were fond, I smild, and wondred how.

Enter.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Duke and Prouost.

Duke. Haile to you, Prouost, so I thinke you are

Pro. I am the Prouost: whats your will, good Frier? Duke. Bound by my charity, and my blest order, I come to visite the afflicted spirits Here in the prison: doe me the common right To let me see them: and to make me know The nature of their crimes, that I may minister To them accordingly

Pro. I would do more then that, if more were needfull

Enter Iuliet.

Looke here comes one: a Gentlewoman of mine, Who falling in the flawes of her owne youth, Hath blisterd her report: She is with childe, And he that got it, sentenc'd: a yong man, More fit to doe another such offence, Then dye for this

Duk. When must he dye? Pro. As I do thinke to morrow. I haue prouided for you, stay a while And you shall be conducted

Duk. Repent you (faire one) of the sin you carry? Iul. I doe; and beare the shame most patiently

Du. Ile teach you how you shal araign your conscie[n]ce And try your penitence, if it be sound, Or hollowly put on

Iul. Ile gladly learne

Duk. Loue you the man that wrong'd you? Iul. Yes, as I loue the woman that wrong'd him

Duk. So then it seemes your most offence full act Was mutually committed

Iul. Mutually

Duk. Then was your sin of heauier kinde then his

Iul. I doe confesse it, and repent it (Father.) Duk. 'Tis meet so (daughter) but least you do repent As that the sin hath brought you to this shame, Which sorrow is alwaies toward our selues, not heauen, Showing we would not spare heauen, as we loue it, But as we stand in feare

Iul. I doe repent me, as it is an euill, And take the shame with ioy

Duke. There rest: Your partner (as I heare) must die to morrow, And I am going with instruction to him: Grace goe with you, Benedicite.

Enter.

Iul. Must die to morrow? oh iniurious Loue That respits me a life, whose very comfort Is still a dying horror

Pro. 'Tis pitty of him.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Angelo.

An. When I would pray, & think, I thinke, and pray To seuerall subiects: heauen hath my empty words, Whilst my Inuention, hearing not my Tongue, Anchors on Isabell: heauen in my mouth, As if I did but onely chew his name, And in my heart the strong and swelling euill Of my conception: the state whereon I studied Is like a good thing, being often read Growne feard, and tedious: yea, my Grauitie Wherein (let no man heare me) I take pride, Could I, with boote, change for an idle plume Which the ayre beats for vaine: oh place, oh forme, How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit Wrench awe from fooles, and tye the wiser soules To thy false seeming? Blood, thou art blood, Let's write good Angell on the Deuills horne 'Tis not the Deuills Crest: how now? who's there?

Enter Seruant.

Ser. One Isabell, a Sister, desires accesse to you

Ang. Teach her the way: oh, heauens Why doe's my bloud thus muster to my heart, Making both it vnable for it selfe, And dispossessing all my other parts Of necessary fitnesse? So play the foolish throngs with one that swounds, Come all to help him, and so stop the ayre By which hee should reuiue: and euen so The generall subiect to a wel-wisht King Quit their owne part, and in obsequious fondnesse Crowd to his presence, where their vn-taught loue Must needs appear offence: how now faire Maid.

Enter Isabella.

Isab. I am come to know your pleasure

An. That you might know it, wold much better please me, Then to demand what 'tis: your Brother cannot liue

Isab. Euen so: heauen keepe your Honor

Ang. Yet may he liue a while: and it may be As long as you, or I: yet he must die

Isab. Vnder your Sentence? Ang. Yea

Isab. When, I beseech you: that in his Reprieue (Longer, or shorter) he may be so fitted That his soule sicken not

Ang. Ha? fie, these filthy vices: It were as good To pardon him, that hath from nature stolne A man already made, as to remit Their sawcie sweetnes, that do coyne heauens Image In stamps that are forbid: 'tis all as easie, Falsely to take away a life true made, As to put mettle in restrained meanes To make a false one

Isab. 'Tis set downe so in heauen, but not in earth

Ang. Say you so: then I shall poze you quickly. Which had you rather, that the most iust Law Now tooke your brothers life, and to redeeme him Giue vp your body to such sweet vncleannesse As she that he hath staind? Isab. Sir, beleeue this. I had rather giue my body, then my soule

Ang. I talke not of your soule: our compel'd sins Stand more for number, then for accompt

Isab. How say you? Ang. Nay Ile not warrant that: for I can speake Against the thing I say: Answere to this, I (now the voyce of the recorded Law) Pronounce a sentence on your Brothers life, Might there not be a charitie in sinne, To saue this Brothers life? Isab. Please you to doo't, Ile take it as a perill to my soule, It is no sinne at all, but charitie

Ang. Pleas'd you to doo't, at perill of your soule Were equall poize of sinne, and charitie

Isab. That I do beg his life, if it be sinne Heauen let me beare it: you granting of my suit, If that be sin, Ile make it my Morne-praier, To haue it added to the faults of mine, And nothing of your answere

Ang. Nay, but heare me, Your sence pursues not mine: either you are ignorant, Or seeme so crafty; and that's not good

Isab. Let be ignorant, and in nothing good, But graciously to know I am no better

Ang. Thus wisdome wishes to appeare most bright, When it doth taxe it selfe: As these blacke Masques Proclaime an en-shield beauty ten times louder Then beauty could displaied: But marke me, To be receiued plaine, Ile speake more grosse: Your Brother is to dye

Isab. So

Ang. And his offence is so, as it appeares, Accountant to the Law, vpon that paine

Isab. True

Ang. Admit no other way to saue his life (As I subscribe not that, nor any other, But in the losse of question) that you, his Sister, Finding your selfe desir'd of such a person, Whose creadit with the Iudge, or owne great place, Could fetch your Brother from the Manacles Of the all-building-Law: and that there were No earthly meane to saue him, but that either You must lay downe the treasures of your body, To this supposed, or else to let him suffer: What would you doe? Isab. As much for my poore Brother, as my selfe; That is: were I vnder the tearmes of death, Th' impression of keene whips, I'ld weare as Rubies, And strip my selfe to death, as to a bed, That longing haue bin sicke for, ere I'ld yeeld My body vp to shame

Ang. Then must your brother die

Isa. And 'twer the cheaper way: Better it were a brother dide at once, Then that a sister, by redeeming him Should die for euer

Ang. Were not you then as cruell as the Sentence, That you haue slander'd so? Isa. Ignomie in ransome, and free pardon Are of two houses: lawfull mercie, Is nothing kin to fowle redemption

Ang. You seem'd of late to make the Law a tirant, And rather prou'd the sliding of your brother A merriment, then a vice

Isa. Oh pardon me my Lord, it oft fals out To haue, what we would haue, We speake not what we meane; I something do excuse the thing I hate, For his aduantage that I dearely loue

Ang. We are all fraile

Isa. Else let my brother die, If not a fedarie but onely he Owe, and succeed thy weaknesse

Ang. Nay, women are fraile too

Isa. I, as the glasses where they view themselues, Which are as easie broke as they make formes: Women? Helpe heauen; men their creation marre In profiting by them: Nay, call vs ten times fraile, For we are soft, as our complexions are, And credulous to false prints

Ang. I thinke it well: And from this testimonie of your owne sex (Since I suppose we are made to be no stronger Then faults may shake our frames) let me be bold; I do arrest your words. Be that you are, That is a woman; if you be more, you'r none. If you be one (as you are well exprest By all externall warrants) shew it now, By putting on the destin'd Liuerie

Isa. I haue no tongue but one; gentle my Lord, Let me entreate you speake the former language

Ang. Plainlie conceiue I loue you

Isa. My brother did loue Iuliet, And you tell me that he shall die for't

Ang. He shall not Isabell if you giue me loue

Isa. I know your vertue hath a licence in't, Which seemes a little fouler then it is, To plucke on others

Ang. Beleeue me on mine Honor, My words expresse my purpose

Isa. Ha? Little honor, to be much beleeu'd, And most pernitious purpose: Seeming, seeming. I will proclaime thee Angelo, looke for't. Signe me a present pardon for my brother, Or with an out-stretcht throate Ile tell the world aloud What man thou art

Ang. Who will beleeue thee Isabell? My vnsoild name, th' austeerenesse of my life, My vouch against you, and my place i'th State, Will so your accusation ouer-weigh, That you shall stifle in your owne report, And smell of calumnie. I haue begun, And now I giue my sensuall race, the reine, Fit thy consent to my sharpe appetite, Lay by all nicetie, and prolixious blushes That banish what they sue for: Redeeme thy brother, By yeelding vp thy bodie to my will, Or else he must not onelie die the death, But thy vnkindnesse shall his death draw out To lingring sufferance: Answer me to morrow, Or by the affection that now guides me most, Ile proue a Tirant to him. As for you, Say what you can; my false, ore-weighs your true.

Exit

Isa. To whom should I complaine? Did I tell this, Who would beleeue me? O perilous mouthes That beare in them, one and the selfesame tongue, Either of condemnation, or approofe, Bidding the Law make curtsie to their will, Hooking both right and wrong to th' appetite, To follow as it drawes. Ile to my brother, Though he hath falne by prompture of the blood, Yet hath he in him such a minde of Honor, That had he twentie heads to tender downe On twentie bloodie blockes, hee'ld yeeld them vp, Before his sister should her bodie stoope To such abhord pollution. Then Isabell liue chaste, and brother die; ``More then our Brother, is our Chastitie. Ile tell him yet of Angelo's request, And fit his minde to death, for his soules rest.

Enter.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Duke, Claudio, and Prouost.

Du. So then you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo? Cla. The miserable haue no other medicine But onely hope: I'haue hope to liue, and am prepar'd to die

Duke. Be absolute for death: either death or life Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life: If I do loose thee, I do loose a thing That none but fooles would keepe: a breath thou art, Seruile to all the skyie-influences That dost this habitation where thou keepst Hourely afflict: Meerely, thou art deaths foole, For him thou labourst by thy flight to shun, And yet runst toward him still. Thou art not noble, For all th' accommodations that thou bearst, Are nurst by basenesse: Thou'rt by no meanes valiant, For thou dost feare the soft and tender forke Of a poore worme: thy best of rest is sleepe, And that thou oft prouoakst, yet grosselie fearst Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thy selfe, For thou exists on manie a thousand graines That issue out of dust. Happie thou art not, For what thou hast not, still thou striu'st to get, And what thou hast forgetst. Thou art not certaine, For thy complexion shifts to strange effects, After the Moone: If thou art rich, thou'rt poore, For like an Asse, whose backe with Ingots bowes; Thou bearst thy heauie riches but a iournie, And death vnloads thee; Friend hast thou none. For thine owne bowels which do call thee, fire The meere effusion of thy proper loines Do curse the Gowt, Sapego, and the Rheume For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth, nor age But as it were an after-dinners sleepe Dreaming on both, for all thy blessed youth Becomes as aged, and doth begge the almes Of palsied-Eld: and when thou art old, and rich Thou hast neither heate, affection, limbe, nor beautie To make thy riches pleasant: what's yet in this That beares the name of life? Yet in this life Lie hid moe thousand deaths; yet death we feare That makes these oddes, all euen

Cla. I humblie thanke you. To sue to liue, I finde I seeke to die, And seeking death, finde life: Let it come on.

Enter Isabella.

Isab. What hoa? Peace heere; Grace, and good companie

Pro. Who's there? Come in, the wish deserues a welcome

Duke. Deere sir, ere long Ile visit you againe

Cla. Most holie Sir, I thanke you

Isa. My businesse is a word or two with Claudio

Pro. And verie welcom: looke Signior, here's your sister

Duke. Prouost, a word with you

Pro. As manie as you please

Duke. Bring them to heare me speak, where I may be conceal'd

Cla. Now sister, what's the comfort? Isa. Why, As all comforts are: most good, most good indeede, Lord Angelo hauing affaires to heauen Intends you for his swift Ambassador, Where you shall be an euerlasting Leiger; Therefore your best appointment make with speed, To Morrow you set on

Clau. Is there no remedie? Isa. None, but such remedie, as to saue a head To cleaue a heart in twaine: Clau. But is there anie? Isa. Yes brother, you may liue; There is a diuellish mercie in the Iudge, If you'l implore it, that will free your life, But fetter you till death

Cla. Perpetuall durance? Isa. I iust, perpetuall durance, a restraint Through all the worlds vastiditie you had To a determin'd scope

Clau. But in what nature? Isa. In such a one, as you consenting too't, Would barke your honor from that trunke you beare, And leaue you naked

Clau. Let me know the point

Isa. Oh, I do feare thee Claudio, and I quake, Least thou a feauorous life shouldst entertaine, And six or seuen winters more respect Then a perpetuall Honor. Dar'st thou die? The sence of death is most in apprehension, And the poore Beetle that we treade vpon In corporall sufferance, finds a pang as great, As when a Giant dies

Cla. Why giue you me this shame? Thinke you I can a resolution fetch From flowrie tendernesse? If I must die, I will encounter darknesse as a bride, And hugge it in mine armes

Isa. There spake my brother: there my fathers graue Did vtter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die: Thou art too noble, to conserue a life In base appliances. This outward sainted Deputie, Whose setled visage, and deliberate word Nips youth i'th head, and follies doth emmew As Falcon doth the Fowle, is yet a diuell: His filth within being cast, he would appeare A pond, as deepe as hell

Cla. The prenzie, Angelo? Isa. Oh 'tis the cunning Liuerie of hell, The damnest bodie to inuest, and couer In prenzie gardes; dost thou thinke Claudio, If I would yeeld him my virginitie Thou might'st be freed? Cla. Oh heauens, it cannot be

Isa. Yes, he would giu't thee; from this rank offence So to offend him still. This night's the time That I should do what I abhorre to name, Or else thou diest to morrow

Clau. Thou shalt not do't

Isa. O, were it but my life, I'de throw it downe for your deliuerance As frankely as a pin

Clau. Thankes deere Isabell

Isa. Be readie Claudio, for your death to morrow

Clau. Yes. Has he affections in him, That thus can make him bite the Law by th' nose, When he would force it? Sure it is no sinne, Or of the deadly seuen it is the least

Isa. Which is the least? Cla. If it were damnable, he being so wise, Why would he for the momentarie tricke Be perdurablie fin'de? Oh Isabell

Isa. What saies my brother? Cla. Death is a fearefull thing

Isa. And shamed life, a hatefull

Cla. I, but to die, and go we know not where, To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot, This sensible warme motion, to become A kneaded clod; And the delighted spirit To bath in fierie floods, or to recide In thrilling Region of thicke-ribbed Ice, To be imprison'd in the viewlesse windes And blowne with restlesse violence round about The pendant world: or to be worse then worst Of those, that lawlesse and incertaine thought, Imagine howling, 'tis too horrible. The weariest, and most loathed worldly life That Age, Ache, periury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a Paradise To what we feare of death

Isa. Alas, alas

Cla. Sweet Sister, let me liue. What sinne you do, to saue a brothers life, Nature dispenses with the deede so farre, That it becomes a vertue

Isa. Oh you beast, Oh faithlesse Coward, oh dishonest wretch, Wilt thou be made a man, out of my vice? Is't not a kinde of Incest, to take life From thine owne sisters shame? What should I thinke, Heauen shield my Mother plaid my Father faire: For such a warped slip of wildernesse Nere issu'd from his blood. Take my defiance, Die, perish: Might but my bending downe Repreeue thee from thy fate, it should proceede. Ile pray a thousand praiers for thy death, No word to saue thee

Cla. Nay heare me Isabell

Isa. Oh fie, fie, fie: Thy sinn's not accidentall, but a Trade; Mercy to thee would proue it selfe a Bawd, 'Tis best that thou diest quickly

Cla. Oh heare me Isabella

Duk. Vouchsafe a word, yong sister, but one word

Isa. What is your Will

Duk. Might you dispense with your leysure, I would by and by haue some speech with you: the satisfaction I would require, is likewise your owne benefit

Isa. I haue no superfluous leysure, my stay must be stolen out of other affaires: but I will attend you a while

Duke. Son, I haue ouer-heard what hath past between you & your sister. Angelo had neuer the purpose to corrupt her; onely he hath made an assay of her vertue, to practise his iudgement with the disposition of natures. She (hauing the truth of honour in her) hath made him that gracious deniall, which he is most glad to receiue: I am Confessor to Angelo, and I know this to be true, therfore prepare your selfe to death: do not satisfie your resolution with hopes that are fallible, to morrow you must die, goe to your knees, and make ready

Cla. Let me ask my sister pardon, I am so out of loue with life, that I will sue to be rid of it

Duke. Hold you there: farewell: Prouost, a word with you

Pro. What's your will (father?) Duk. That now you are come, you wil be gone: leaue me a while with the Maid, my minde promises with my habit, no losse shall touch her by my company

Pro. In good time.

Enter.

Duk. The hand that hath made you faire, hath made you good: the goodnes that is cheape in beauty, makes beauty briefe in goodnes; but grace being the soule of your complexion, shall keepe the body of it euer faire: the assault that Angelo hath made to you, Fortune hath conuaid to my vnderstanding; and but that frailty hath examples for his falling, I should wonder at Angelo: how will you doe to content this Substitute, and to saue your Brother? Isab. I am now going to resolue him: I had rather my brother die by the Law, then my sonne should be vnlawfullie borne. But (oh) how much is the good Duke deceiu'd in Angelo: if euer he returne, and I can speake to him, I will open my lips in vaine, or discouer his gouernment

Duke. That shall not be much amisse: yet, as the matter now stands, he will auoid your accusation: he made triall of you onelie. Therefore fasten your eare on my aduisings, to the loue I haue in doing good; a remedie presents it selfe. I doe make my selfe beleeue that you may most vprighteously do a poor wronged Lady a merited benefit; redeem your brother from the angry Law; doe no staine to your owne gracious person, and much please the absent Duke, if peraduenture he shall euer returne to haue hearing of this businesse

Isab. Let me heare you speake farther; I haue spirit to do any thing that appeares not fowle in the truth of my spirit

Duke. Vertue is bold, and goodnes neuer fearefull: Haue you not heard speake of Mariana the sister of Fredericke the great Souldier, who miscarried at Sea? Isa. I haue heard of the Lady, and good words went with her name

Duke. Shee should this Angelo haue married: was affianced to her oath, and the nuptiall appointed: between which time of the contract, and limit of the solemnitie, her brother Fredericke was wrackt at Sea, hauing in that perished vessell, the dowry of his sister: but marke how heauily this befell to the poore Gentlewoman, there she lost a noble and renowned brother, in his loue toward her, euer most kinde and naturall: with him the portion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage dowry: with both, her combynate-husband, this well-seeming Angelo

Isab. Can this be so? did Angelo so leaue her? Duke. Left her in her teares, & dried not one of them with his comfort: swallowed his vowes whole, pretending in her, discoueries of dishonor: in few, bestow'd her on her owne lamentation, which she yet weares for his sake: and he, a marble to her teares, is washed with them, but relents not

Isab. What a merit were it in death to take this poore maid from the world? what corruption in this life, that it will let this man liue? But how out of this can shee auaile? Duke. It is a rupture that you may easily heale: and the cure of it not onely saues your brother, but keepes you from dishonor in doing it

Isab. Shew me how (good Father.) Duk. This fore-named Maid hath yet in her the continuance of her first affection: his vniust vnkindenesse (that in all reason should haue quenched her loue) hath (like an impediment in the Current) made it more violent and vnruly: Goe you to Angelo, answere his requiring with a plausible obedience, agree with his demands to the point: onely referre your selfe to this aduantage; first, that your stay with him may not be long: that the time may haue all shadow, and silence in it: and the place answere to conuenience: this being granted in course, and now followes all: wee shall aduise this wronged maid to steed vp your appointment, goe in your place: if the encounter acknowledge it selfe heereafter, it may compell him to her recompence; and heere, by this is your brother saued, your honor vntainted, the poore Mariana aduantaged, and the corrupt Deputy scaled. The Maid will I frame, and make fit for his attempt: if you thinke well to carry this as you may, the doublenes of the benefit defends the deceit from reproofe. What thinke you of it? Isab. The image of it giues me content already, and I trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection

Duk. It lies much in your holding vp: haste you speedily to Angelo, if for this night he intreat you to his bed, giue him promise of satisfaction: I will presently to S[aint]. Lukes, there at the moated-Grange recides this deiected Mariana; at that place call vpon me, and dispatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly

Isab. I thank you for this comfort: fare you well good father.

Enter.

Enter Elbow, Clowne, Officers.

Elb. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will needes buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall haue all the world drinke browne & white bastard

Duk. Oh heauens, what stuffe is heere

Clow. Twas neuer merry world since of two vsuries the merriest was put downe, and the worser allow'd by order of Law; a fur'd gowne to keepe him warme; and furd with Foxe and Lamb-skins too, to signifie, that craft being richer then Innocency, stands for the facing

Elb. Come your way sir: 'blesse you good Father Frier

Duk. And you good Brother Father; what offence hath this man made you, Sir? Elb. Marry Sir, he hath offended the Law; and Sir, we take him to be a Theefe too Sir: for wee haue found vpon him Sir, a strange Pick-lock, which we haue sent to the Deputie

Duke. Fie, sirrah, a Bawd, a wicked bawd, The euill that thou causest to be done, That is thy meanes to liue. Do thou but thinke What 'tis to cram a maw, or cloath a backe From such a filthie vice: say to thy selfe, From their abhominable and beastly touches I drinke, I eate away my selfe, and liue: Canst thou beleeue thy liuing is a life, So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend

Clo. Indeed, it do's stinke in some sort, Sir: But yet Sir I would proue

Duke. Nay, if the diuell haue giuen thee proofs for sin Thou wilt proue his. Take him to prison Officer: Correction, and Instruction must both worke Ere this rude beast will profit

Elb. He must before the Deputy Sir, he ha's giuen him warning: the Deputy cannot abide a Whore-master: if he be a Whore-monger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand

Duke. That we were all, as some would seeme to bee From our faults, as faults from seeming free.

Enter Lucio.

Elb. His necke will come to your wast, a Cord sir

Clo. I spy comfort, I cry baile: Here's a Gentleman, and a friend of mine

Luc. How now noble Pompey? What, at the wheels of Cæsar? Art thou led in triumph? What is there none of Pigmalions Images newly made woman to bee had now, for putting the hand in the pocket, and extracting clutch'd? What reply? Ha? What saist thou to this Tune, Matter, and Method? Is't not drown'd i'th last raine? Ha? What saist thou Trot? Is the world as it was Man? Which is the way? Is it sad, and few words? Or how? The tricke of it? Duke. Still thus, and thus: still worse? Luc. How doth my deere Morsell, thy Mistris? Procures she still? Ha? Clo. Troth sir, shee hath eaten vp all her beefe, and she is her selfe in the tub

Luc. Why 'tis good: It is the right of it: it must be so. Euer your fresh Whore, and your pouder'd Baud, an vnshun'd consequence, it must be so. Art going to prison Pompey? Clo. Yes faith sir

Luc. Why 'tis not amisse Pompey: farewell: goe say I sent thee thether: for debt Pompey? Or how? Elb. For being a baud, for being a baud

Luc. Well, then imprison him: If imprisonment be the due of a baud, why 'tis his right. Baud is he doubtlesse, and of antiquity too: Baud borne. Farwell good Pompey: Commend me to the prison Pompey, you will turne good husband now Pompey, you will keepe the house

Clo. I hope Sir, your good Worship wil be my baile? Luc. No indeed wil I not Pompey, it is not the wear: I will pray (Pompey) to encrease your bondage if you take it not patiently: Why, your mettle is the more: Adieu trustie Pompey. Blesse you Friar

Duke. And you

Luc. Do's Bridget paint still, Pompey? Ha? Elb. Come your waies sir, come

Clo. You will not baile me then Sir? Luc. Then Pompey, nor now: what newes abroad Frier? What newes? Elb. Come your waies sir, come

Luc. Goe to kennell (Pompey) goe: What newes Frier of the Duke? Duke. I know none: can you tell me of any? Luc. Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia: other some, he is in Rome: but where is he thinke you? Duke. I know not where: but wheresoeuer, I wish him well

Luc. It was a mad fantasticall tricke of him to steale from the State, and vsurpe the beggerie hee was neuer borne to: Lord Angelo Dukes it well in his absence: he puts transgression too't

Duke. He do's well in't

Luc. A little more lenitie to Lecherie would doe no harme in him: Something too crabbed that way, Frier

Duk. It is too general a vice, and seueritie must cure it

Luc. Yes in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred; it is well allied, but it is impossible to extirpe it quite, Frier, till eating and drinking be put downe. They say this Angelo was not made by Man and Woman, after this downe-right way of Creation: is it true, thinke you? Duke. How should he be made then? Luc. Some report, a Sea-maid spawn'd him. Some, that he was begot betweene two Stock-fishes. But it is certaine, that when he makes water, his Vrine is congeal'd ice, that I know to bee true: and he is a motion generatiue, that's infallible

Duke. You are pleasant sir, and speake apace

Luc. Why, what a ruthlesse thing is this in him, for the rebellion of a Cod-peece, to take away the life of a man? Would the Duke that is absent haue done this? Ere he would haue hang'd a man for the getting a hundred Bastards, he would haue paide for the Nursing a thousand. He had some feeling of the sport, hee knew the seruice, and that instructed him to mercie

Duke. I neuer heard the absent Duke much detected for Women, he was not enclin'd that way

Luc. Oh Sir, you are deceiu'd

Duke. 'Tis not possible

Luc. Who, not the Duke? Yes, your beggar of fifty: and his vse was, to put a ducket in her Clack-dish; the Duke had Crochets in him. Hee would be drunke too, that let me informe you

Duke. You do him wrong, surely

Luc. Sir, I was an inward of his: a shie fellow was the Duke, and I beleeue I know the cause of his withdrawing

Duke. What (I prethee) might be the cause? Luc. No, pardon: 'Tis a secret must bee lockt within the teeth and the lippes: but this I can let you vnderstand, the greater file of the subiect held the Duke to be wise

Duke. Wise? Why no question but he was

Luc. A very superficiall, ignorant, vnweighing fellow Duke. Either this is Enuie in you, Folly, or mistaking: The very streame of his life, and the businesse he hath helmed, must vppon a warranted neede, giue him a better proclamation. Let him be but testimonied in his owne bringings forth, and hee shall appeare to the enuious, a Scholler, a Statesman, and a Soldier: therefore you speake vnskilfully: or, if your knowledge bee more, it is much darkned in your malice

Luc. Sir, I know him, and I loue him

Duke. Loue talkes with better knowledge, & knowledge with deare loue

Luc. Come Sir, I know what I know

Duke. I can hardly beleeue that, since you know not what you speake. But if euer the Duke returne (as our praiers are he may) let mee desire you to make your answer before him: if it bee honest you haue spoke, you haue courage to maintaine it; I am bound to call vppon you, and I pray you your name? Luc. Sir my name is Lucio, wel known to the Duke

Duke. He shall know you better Sir, if I may liue to report you

Luc. I feare you not

Duke. O, you hope the Duke will returne no more: or you imagine me to vnhurtfull an opposite: but indeed I can doe you little harme: You'll for-sweare this againe? Luc. Ile be hang'd first: Thou art deceiu'd in mee Friar. But no more of this: Canst thou tell if Claudio die to morrow, or no? Duke. Why should he die Sir? Luc. Why? For filling a bottle with a Tunne-dish: I would the Duke we talke of were return'd againe: this vngenitur'd Agent will vn-people the Prouince with Continencie. Sparrowes must not build in his house-eeues, because they are lecherous: The Duke yet would haue darke deeds darkelie answered, hee would neuer bring them to light: would hee were return'd. Marrie this Claudio is condemned for vntrussing. Farwell good Friar, I prethee pray for me: The Duke (I say to thee againe) would eate Mutton on Fridaies. He's now past it, yet (and I say to thee) hee would mouth with a beggar, though she smelt browne-bread and Garlicke: say that I said so: Farewell.

Enter.

Duke. No might, nor greatnesse in mortality Can censure scape: Back-wounding calumnie The whitest vertue strikes. What King so strong, Can tie the gall vp in the slanderous tong? But who comes heere?

Enter Escalus, Prouost, and Bawd.

Esc. Go, away with her to prison

Bawd. Good my Lord be good to mee, your Honor is accounted a mercifull man: good my Lord

Esc. Double, and trebble admonition, and still forfeite in the same kinde? This would make mercy sweare and play the Tirant

Pro. A Bawd of eleuen yeares continuance, may it please your Honor

Bawd. My Lord, this is one Lucio's information against me, Mistris Kate Keepe-downe was with childe by him in the Dukes time, he promis'd her marriage: his Childe is a yeere and a quarter olde come Philip and Iacob: I haue kept it my selfe; and see how hee goes about to abuse me

Esc. That fellow is a fellow of much License: Let him be call'd before vs, Away with her to prison: Goe too, no more words. Prouost, my Brother Angelo will not be alter'd, Claudio must die to morrow: Let him be furnish'd with Diuines, and haue all charitable preparation. If my brother wrought by my pitie, it should not be so with him

Pro. So please you, this Friar hath beene with him, and aduis'd him for th' entertainment of death

Esc. Good' euen, good Father

Duke. Blisse, and goodnesse on you

Esc. Of whence are you? Duke. Not of this Countrie, though my chance is now To vse it for my time: I am a brother Of gracious Order, late come from the Sea, In speciall businesse from his Holinesse

Esc. What newes abroad i'th World? Duke. None, but that there is so great a Feauor on goodnesse, that the dissolution of it must cure it. Noueltie is onely in request, and as it is as dangerous to be aged in any kinde of course, as it is vertuous to be constant in any vndertaking. There is scarse truth enough aliue to make Societies secure, but Securitie enough to make Fellowships accurst: Much vpon this riddle runs the wisedome of the world: This newes is old enough, yet it is euerie daies newes. I pray you Sir, of what disposition was the Duke? Esc. One, that aboue all other strifes, Contended especially to know himselfe

Duke. What pleasure was he giuen to? Esc. Rather reioycing to see another merry, then merrie at anie thing which profest to make him reioice. A Gentleman of all temperance. But leaue wee him to his euents, with a praier they may proue prosperous, & let me desire to know, how you finde Claudio prepar'd? I am made to vnderstand, that you haue lent him visitation

Duke. He professes to haue receiued no sinister measure from his Iudge, but most willingly humbles himselfe to the determination of Iustice: yet had he framed to himselfe (by the instruction of his frailty) manie deceyuing promises of life, which I (by my good leisure) haue discredited to him, and now is he resolu'd to die

Esc. You haue paid the heauens your Function, and the prisoner the verie debt of your Calling. I haue labour'd for the poore Gentleman, to the extremest shore of my modestie, but my brother-Iustice haue I found so seuere, that he hath forc'd me to tell him, hee is indeede Iustice

Duke. If his owne life, Answere the straitnesse of his proceeding, It shall become him well: wherein if he chance to faile he hath sentenc'd himselfe

Esc I am going to visit the prisoner, Fare you well

Duke. Peace be with you. He who the sword of Heauen will beare, Should be as holy, as seueare: Patterne in himselfe to know, Grace to stand, and Vertue go: More, nor lesse to others paying, Then by selfe-offences weighing. Shame to him, whose cruell striking, Kils for faults of his owne liking: Twice trebble shame on Angelo, To weede my vice, and let his grow. Oh, what may Man within him hide, Though Angel on the outward side? How may likenesse made in crimes, Making practise on the Times, To draw with ydle Spiders strings Most ponderous and substantiall things? Craft against vice, I must applie. With Angelo to night shall lye His old betroathed (but despised:) So disguise shall by th' disguised Pay with falshood, false exacting, And performe an olde contracting.

Exit

Actus Quartus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Mariana, and Boy singing.

Song.

Take, oh take those lips away, that so sweetly were forsworne, And those eyes: the breake of day lights that doe mislead the Morne; But my kisses bring againe, bring againe, Seales of loue, but seal'd in vaine, seal'd in vaine.

Enter Duke.

Mar. Breake off thy song, and haste thee quick away, Here comes a man of comfort, whose aduice Hath often still'd my brawling discontent. I cry you mercie, Sir, and well could wish You had not found me here so musicall. Let me excuse me, and beleeue me so, My mirth it much displeas'd, but pleas'd my woe

Duk. 'Tis good; though Musick oft hath such a charme To make bad, good; and good prouoake to harme. I pray you tell me, hath any body enquir'd for mee here to day; much vpon this time haue I promis'd here to meete

Mar. You haue not bin enquir'd after: I haue sat here all day.

Enter Isabell.

Duk. I doe constantly beleeue you: the time is come euen now. I shall craue your forbearance a little, may be I will call vpon you anone for some aduantage to your selfe

Mar. I am alwayes bound to you.

Enter.

Duk. Very well met, and well come: What is the newes from this good Deputie? Isab. He hath a Garden circummur'd with Bricke, Whose westerne side is with a Vineyard back't; And to that Vineyard is a planched gate, That makes his opening with this bigger Key: This other doth command a little doore, Which from the Vineyard to the Garden leades, There haue I made my promise, vpon the Heauy midle of the night, to call vpon him

Duk. But shall you on your knowledge find this way? Isab. I haue t'ane a due, and wary note vpon't, With whispering, and most guiltie diligence, In action all of precept, he did show me The way twice ore

Duk. Are there no other tokens Betweene you 'greed, concerning her obseruance? Isab. No: none but onely a repaire ith' darke, And that I haue possest him, my most stay Can be but briefe: for I haue made him know, I haue a Seruant comes with me along That staies vpon me; whose perswasion is, I come about my Brother

Duk. 'Tis well borne vp. I haue not yet made knowne to Mariana

Enter Mariana.

A word of this: what hoa, within; come forth, I pray you be acquainted with this Maid, She comes to doe you good

Isab. I doe desire the like

Duk. Do you perswade your selfe that I respect you? Mar. Good Frier, I know you do, and haue found it

Duke. Take then this your companion by the hand Who hath a storie readie for your eare: I shall attend your leisure, but make haste The vaporous night approaches

Mar. Wilt please you walke aside.

Enter.

Duke. Oh Place, and greatnes: millions of false eies Are stucke vpon thee: volumes of report Run with these false, and most contrarious Quest Vpon thy doings: thousand escapes of wit Make thee the father of their idle dreame, And racke thee in their fancies. Welcome, how agreed?

Enter Mariana and Isabella.

Isab. Shee'll take the enterprize vpon her father, If you aduise it

Duke. It is not my consent, But my entreaty too

Isa. Little haue you to say When you depart from him, but soft and low, Remember now my brother

Mar. Feare me not

Duk. Nor gentle daughter, feare you not at all: He is your husband on a pre-contract: To bring you thus together 'tis no sinne, Sith that the Iustice of your title to him Doth flourish the deceit. Come, let vs goe, Our Corne's to reape, for yet our Tithes to sow.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Prouost and Clowne.

Pro. Come hither sirha; can you cut off a mans head? Clo. If the man be a Bachelor Sir, I can: But if he be a married man, he's his wiues head, And I can neuer cut off a womans head

Pro. Come sir, leaue me your snatches, and yeeld mee a direct answere. To morrow morning are to die Claudio and Barnardine: heere is in our prison a common executioner, who in his office lacks a helper, if you will take it on you to assist him, it shall redeeme you from your Gyues: if not, you shall haue your full time of imprisonment, and your deliuerance with an vnpittied whipping; for you haue beene a notorious bawd

Clo. Sir, I haue beene an vnlawfull bawd, time out of minde, but yet I will bee content to be a lawfull hangman: I would bee glad to receiue some instruction from my fellow partner

Pro. What hoa, Abhorson: where's Abhorson there?

Enter Abhorson.

Abh. Doe you call sir? Pro. Sirha, here's a fellow will helpe you to morrow in your execution: if you thinke it meet, compound with him by the yeere, and let him abide here with you, if not, vse him for the present, and dismisse him, hee cannot plead his estimation with you: he hath beene a Bawd

Abh. A Bawd Sir? fie vpon him, he will discredit our mysterie

Pro. Goe too Sir, you waigh equallie: a feather will turne the Scale.

Enter.

Clo. Pray sir, by your good fauor: for surely sir, a good fauor you haue, but that you haue a hanging look: Doe you call sir, your occupation a Mysterie? Abh. I Sir, a Misterie

Clo. Painting Sir, I haue heard say, is a Misterie; and your Whores sir, being members of my occupation, vsing painting, do proue my Occupation, a Misterie: but what Misterie there should be in hanging, if I should be hang'd, I cannot imagine

Abh. Sir, it is a Misterie

Clo. Proofe

Abh. Euerie true mans apparrell fits your Theefe

Clo. If it be too little for your theefe, your true man thinkes it bigge enough. If it bee too bigge for your Theefe, your Theefe thinkes it little enough: So euerie true mans apparrell fits your Theefe. Enter Prouost.

Pro. Are you agreed? Clo. Sir, I will serue him: For I do finde your Hangman is a more penitent Trade then your Bawd: he doth oftner aske forgiuenesse

Pro. You sirrah, prouide your blocke and your Axe to morrow, foure a clocke

Abh. Come on (Bawd) I will instruct thee in my Trade: follow

Clo. I do desire to learne sir: and I hope, if you haue occasion to vse me for your owne turne, you shall finde me y'are. For truly sir, for your kindnesse, I owe you a good turne.

Exit

Pro. Call hether Barnardine and Claudio: Th' one has my pitie; not a iot the other, Being a Murtherer, though he were my brother.

Enter Claudio.

Looke, here's the Warrant Claudio, for thy death, 'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to morrow Thou must be made immortall. Where's Barnardine? Cla. As fast lock'd vp in sleepe, as guiltlesse labour, When it lies starkely in the Trauellers bones, He will not wake

Pro. Who can do good on him? Well, go, prepare your selfe. But harke, what noise? Heauen giue your spirits comfort: by, and by, I hope it is some pardon, or repreeue For the most gentle Claudio. Welcome Father.

Enter Duke.

Duke. The best, and wholsomst spirits of the night, Inuellop you, good Prouost: who call'd heere of late? Pro. None since the Curphew rung

Duke. Not Isabell? Pro. No

Duke. They will then er't be long

Pro. What comfort is for Claudio? Duke. There's some in hope

Pro. It is a bitter Deputie

Duke. Not so, not so: his life is paralel'd Euen with the stroke and line of his great Iustice: He doth with holie abstinence subdue That in himselfe, which he spurres on his powre To qualifie in others: were he meal'd with that Which he corrects, then were he tirrannous, But this being so, he's iust. Now are they come. This is a gentle Prouost, sildome when The steeled Gaoler is the friend of men: How now? what noise? That spirit's possest with hast, That wounds th' vnsisting Posterne with these strokes

Pro. There he must stay vntil the Officer Arise to let him in: he is call'd vp

Duke. Haue you no countermand for Claudio yet? But he must die to morrow? Pro. None Sir, none

Duke. As neere the dawning Prouost, as it is, You shall heare more ere Morning

Pro. Happely You something know: yet I beleeue there comes No countermand: no such example haue we: Besides, vpon the verie siege of Iustice, Lord Angelo hath to the publike eare Profest the contrarie.

Enter a Messenger.

Duke. This is his Lords man

Pro. And heere comes Claudio's pardon

Mess. My Lord hath sent you this note, And by mee this further charge; That you swerue not from the smallest Article of it, Neither in time, matter, or other circumstance. Good morrow: for as I take it, it is almost day

Pro. I shall obey him

Duke. This is his Pardon purchas'd by such sin, For which the Pardoner himselfe is in: Hence hath offence his quicke celeritie, When it is borne in high Authority. When Vice makes Mercie; Mercie's so extended, That for the faults loue, is th' offender friended. Now Sir, what newes? Pro. I told you: Lord Angelo (be-like) thinking me remisse In mine Office, awakens mee With this vnwonted putting on, methinks strangely: For he hath not vs'd it before

Duk. Pray you let's heare.

The Letter.

Whatsoeuer you may heare to the contrary, let Claudio be executed by foure of the clocke, and in the afternoone Bernardine: For my better satisfaction, let mee haue Claudios head sent me by fiue. Let this be duely performed with a thought that more depends on it, then we must yet deliuer. Thus faile not to doe your Office, as you will answere it at your perill. What say you to this Sir? Duke. What is that Barnardine, who is to be executed in th' afternoone? Pro. A Bohemian borne: But here nurst vp & bred, One that is a prisoner nine yeeres old

Duke. How came it, that the absent Duke had not either deliuer'd him to his libertie, or executed him? I haue heard it was euer his manner to do so

Pro. His friends still wrought Repreeues for him: And indeed his fact till now in the gouernment of Lord Angelo, came not to an vndoubtfull proofe

Duke. It is now apparant? Pro. Most manifest, and not denied by himselfe

Duke. Hath he borne himselfe penitently in prison? How seemes he to be touch'd? Pro. A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully, but as a drunken sleepe, carelesse, wreaklesse, and fearelesse of what's past, present, or to come: insensible of mortality, and desperately mortall

Duke. He wants aduice

Pro. He wil heare none: he hath euermore had the liberty of the prison: giue him leaue to escape hence, hee would not. Drunke many times a day, if not many daies entirely drunke. We haue verie oft awak'd him, as if to carrie him to execution, and shew'd him a seeming warrant for it, it hath not moued him at all

Duke. More of him anon: There is written in your brow Prouost, honesty and constancie; if I reade it not truly, my ancient skill beguiles me: but in the boldnes of my cunning, I will lay my selfe in hazard: Claudio, whom heere you haue warrant to execute, is no greater forfeit to the Law, then Angelo who hath sentenc'd him. To make you vnderstand this in a manifested effect, I craue but foure daies respit: for the which, you are to do me both a present, and a dangerous courtesie

Pro. Pray Sir, in what? Duke. In the delaying death

Pro. Alacke, how may I do it? Hauing the houre limited, and an expresse command, vnder penaltie, to deliuer his head in the view of Angelo? I may make my case as Claudio's, to crosse this in the smallest

Duke. By the vow of mine Order, I warrant you, If my instructions may be your guide, Let this Barnardine be this morning executed, And his head borne to Angelo

Pro. Angelo hath seene them both, And will discouer the fauour

Duke. Oh, death's a great disguiser, and you may adde to it; Shaue the head, and tie the beard, and say it was the desire of the penitent to be so bar'de before his death: you know the course is common. If any thing fall to you vpon this, more then thankes and good fortune, by the Saint whom I professe, I will plead against it with my life

Pro. Pardon me, good Father, it is against my oath

Duke. Were you sworne to the Duke, or to the Deputie? Pro. To him, and to his Substitutes

Duke. You will thinke you haue made no offence, if the Duke auouch the iustice of your dealing? Pro. But what likelihood is in that? Duke. Not a resemblance, but a certainty; yet since I see you fearfull, that neither my coate, integrity, nor perswasion, can with ease attempt you, I wil go further then I meant, to plucke all feares out of you. Looke you Sir, heere is the hand and Seale of the Duke: you know the Charracter I doubt not, and the Signet is not strange to you? Pro. I know them both

Duke. The Contents of this, is the returne of the Duke; you shall anon ouer-reade it at your pleasure: where you shall finde within these two daies, he wil be heere. This is a thing that Angelo knowes not, for hee this very day receiues letters of strange tenor, perchance of the Dukes death, perchance entering into some Monasterie, but by chance nothing of what is writ. Looke, th' vnfolding Starre calles vp the Shepheard; put not your selfe into amazement, how these things should be; all difficulties are but easie when they are knowne. Call your executioner, and off with Barnardines head: I will giue him a present shrift, and aduise him for a better place. Yet you are amaz'd, but this shall absolutely resolue you: Come away, it is almost cleere dawne.

Enter.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Clowne.

Clo. I am as well acquainted heere, as I was in our house of profession: one would thinke it were Mistris Ouerdons owne house, for heere be manie of her olde Customers. First, here's yong Mr Rash, hee's in for a commoditie of browne paper, and olde Ginger, nine score and seuenteene pounds, of which hee made fiue Markes readie money: marrie then, Ginger was not much in request, for the olde Women were all dead. Then is there heere one Mr Caper, at the suite of Master Three-Pile the Mercer, for some foure suites of Peachcolour'd Satten, which now peaches him a beggar. Then haue we heere, yong Dizie, and yong Mr Deepevow, and Mr Copperspurre, and Mr Starue-Lackey the Rapier and dagger man, and yong Drop-heire that kild lustie Pudding, and Mr Forthlight the Tilter, and braue Mr Shootie the great Traueller, and wilde Halfe-Canne that stabb'd Pots, and I thinke fortie more, all great doers in our Trade, and are now for the Lords sake.

Enter Abhorson.

Abh. Sirrah, bring Barnardine hether

Clo. Mr Barnardine, you must rise and be hang'd, Mr Barnardine

Abh. What hoa Barnardine.

Barnardine within.

Bar. A pox o'your throats: who makes that noyse there? What are you? Clo. Your friends Sir, the Hangman: You must be so good Sir to rise, and be put to death

Bar. Away you Rogue, away, I am sleepie

Abh. Tell him he must awake, And that quickly too

Clo. Pray Master Barnardine, awake till you are executed, and sleepe afterwards

Ab. Go in to him, and fetch him out

Clo. He is comming Sir, he is comming: I heare his Straw russle.

Enter Barnardine.

Abh. Is the Axe vpon the blocke, sirrah? Clo. Verie readie Sir

Bar. How now Abhorson? What's the newes with you? Abh. Truly Sir, I would desire you to clap into your prayers: for looke you, the Warrants come

Bar. You Rogue, I haue bin drinking all night, I am not fitted for't

Clo. Oh, the better Sir: for he that drinkes all night, and is hanged betimes in the morning, may sleepe the sounder all the next day.

Enter Duke.

Abh. Looke you Sir, heere comes your ghostly Father: do we iest now thinke you? Duke. Sir, induced by my charitie, and hearing how hastily you are to depart, I am come to aduise you, Comfort you, and pray with you

Bar. Friar, not I: I haue bin drinking hard all night, and I will haue more time to prepare mee, or they shall beat out my braines with billets: I will not consent to die this day, that's certaine

Duke. Oh sir, you must: and therefore I beseech you Looke forward on the iournie you shall go

Bar. I sweare I will not die to day for anie mans perswasion

Duke. But heare you: Bar. Not a word: if you haue anie thing to say to me, come to my Ward: for thence will not I to day.

Exit

Enter Prouost.

Duke. Vnfit to liue, or die: oh grauell heart. After him (Fellowes) bring him to the blocke

Pro. Now Sir, how do you finde the prisoner? Duke. A creature vnprepar'd, vnmeet for death, And to transport him in the minde he is, Were damnable

Pro. Heere in the prison, Father, There died this morning of a cruell Feauor, One Ragozine, a most notorious Pirate, A man of Claudio's yeares: his beard, and head Iust of his colour. What if we do omit This Reprobate, til he were wel enclin'd, And satisfie the Deputie with the visage Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio? Duke. Oh, 'tis an accident that heauen prouides: Dispatch it presently, the houre drawes on Prefixt by Angelo: See this be done, And sent according to command, whiles I Perswade this rude wretch willingly to die

Pro. This shall be done (good Father) presently: But Barnardine must die this afternoone, And how shall we continue Claudio, To saue me from the danger that might come, If he were knowne aliue? Duke. Let this be done, Put them in secret holds, both Barnardine and Claudio, Ere twice the Sun hath made his iournall greeting To yond generation, you shal finde Your safetie manifested

Pro. I am your free dependant.

Enter.

Duke. Quicke, dispatch, and send the head to Angelo Now wil I write Letters to Angelo, (The Prouost he shal beare them) whose contents Shal witnesse to him I am neere at home: And that by great Iniunctions I am bound To enter publikely: him Ile desire To meet me at the consecrated Fount, A League below the Citie: and from thence, By cold gradation, and weale-ballanc'd forme. We shal proceed with Angelo.

Enter Prouost.

Pro. Heere is the head, Ile carrie it my selfe

Duke. Conuenient is it: Make a swift returne, For I would commune with you of such things, That want no eare but yours

Pro. Ile make all speede.

Exit

Isabell within.

Isa. Peace hoa, be heere

Duke. The tongue of Isabell. She's come to know, If yet her brothers pardon be come hither: But I will keepe her ignorant of her good, To make her heauenly comforts of dispaire, When it is least expected.

Enter Isabella.

Isa. Hoa, by your leaue

Duke. Good morning to you, faire, and gracious daughter

Isa. The better giuen me by so holy a man, Hath yet the Deputie sent my brothers pardon? Duke. He hath releasd him, Isabell, from the world, His head is off, and sent to Angelo

Isa. Nay, but it is not so

Duke. It is no other, Shew your wisedome daughter in your close patience

Isa. Oh, I wil to him, and plucke out his eies

Duk. You shal not be admitted to his sight

Isa. Vnhappie Claudio, wretched Isabell, Iniurious world, most damned Angelo

Duke. This nor hurts him, nor profits you a iot, Forbeare it therefore, giue your cause to heauen. Marke what I say, which you shal finde By euery sillable a faithful veritie. The Duke comes home to morrow: nay drie your eyes, One of our Couent, and his Confessor Giues me this instance: Already he hath carried Notice to Escalus and Angelo, Who do prepare to meete him at the gates, There to giue vp their powre: If you can pace your wisdome, In that good path that I would wish it go, And you shal haue your bosome on this wretch, Grace of the Duke, reuenges to your heart, And general Honor

Isa. I am directed by you

Duk. This Letter then to Friar Peter giue, 'Tis that he sent me of the Dukes returne: Say, by this token, I desire his companie At Mariana's house to night. Her cause, and yours Ile perfect him withall, and he shal bring you Before the Duke; and to the head of Angelo Accuse him home and home. For my poore selfe, I am combined by a sacred Vow, And shall be absent. Wend you with this Letter: Command these fretting waters from your eies With a light heart; trust not my holie Order If I peruert your course: whose heere?

Enter Lucio.

Luc. Good' euen; Frier, where's the Prouost? Duke. Not within Sir

Luc. Oh prettie Isabella, I am pale at mine heart, to see thine eyes so red: thou must be patient; I am faine to dine and sup with water and bran: I dare not for my head fill my belly. One fruitful Meale would set mee too't: but they say the Duke will be heere to Morrow. By my troth Isabell I lou'd thy brother, if the olde fantastical Duke of darke corners had bene at home, he had liued

Duke. Sir, the Duke is marueilous little beholding to your reports, but the best is, he liues not in them

Luc. Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so wel as I do: he's a better woodman then thou tak'st him for

Duke. Well: you'l answer this one day. Fare ye well

Luc. Nay tarrie, Ile go along with thee, I can tel thee pretty tales of the Duke

Duke. You haue told me too many of him already sir if they be true: if not true, none were enough

Lucio. I was once before him for getting a Wench with childe

Duke. Did you such a thing? Luc. Yes marrie did I; but I was faine to forswear it, They would else haue married me to the rotten Medler

Duke. Sir your company is fairer then honest, rest you well

Lucio. By my troth Ile go with thee to the lanes end: if baudy talke offend you, wee'l haue very litle of it: nay Friar, I am a kind of Burre, I shal sticke.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Angelo & Escalus.

Esc. Euery Letter he hath writ, hath disuouch'd other

An. In most vneuen and distracted manner, his actions show much like to madnesse, pray heauen his wisedome bee not tainted: and why meet him at the gates and deliuer our authorities there? Esc. I ghesse not

Ang. And why should wee proclaime it in an howre before his entring, that if any craue redresse of iniustice, they should exhibit their petitions in the street? Esc. He showes his reason for that: to haue a dispatch of Complaints, and to deliuer vs from deuices heereafter, which shall then haue no power to stand against vs

Ang. Well: I beseech you let it bee proclaim'd betimes i'th' morne, Ile call you at your house: giue notice to such men of sort and suite as are to meete him

Esc. I shall sir: fareyouwell.

Enter.

Ang. Good night. This deede vnshapes me quite, makes me vnpregnant And dull to all proceedings. A deflowred maid, And by an eminent body, that enforc'd The Law against it? But that her tender shame Will not proclaime against her maiden losse, How might she tongue me? yet reason dares her no, For my Authority beares of a credent bulke, That no particular scandall once can touch But it confounds the breather. He should haue liu'd, Saue that his riotous youth with dangerous sense Might in the times to come haue ta'ne reuenge By so receiuing a dishonor'd life With ransome of such shame: would yet he had liued. Alack, when once our grace we haue forgot, Nothing goes right, we would, and we would not.

Enter.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Duke and Frier Peter.

Duke. These Letters at fit time deliuer me, The Prouost knowes our purpose and our plot, The matter being a foote, keepe your instruction And hold you euer to our speciall drift, Though sometimes you doe blench from this to that As cause doth minister: Goe call at Flauia's house, And tell him where I stay: giue the like notice To Valencius, Rowland, and to Crassus, And bid them bring the Trumpets to the gate: But send me Flauius first

Peter. It shall be speeded well.

Enter Varrius.

Duke. I thank thee Varrius, thou hast made good hast, Come, we will walke: There's other of our friends Will greet vs heere anon: my gentle Varrius.

Exeunt.

Scena Sexta.

Enter Isabella and Mariana.

Isab. To speake so indirectly I am loath, I would say the truth, but to accuse him so That is your part, yet I am aduis'd to doe it, He saies, to vaile full purpose

Mar. Be rul'd by him

Isab. Besides he tells me, that if peraduenture He speake against me on the aduerse side, I should not thinke it strange, for 'tis a physicke That's bitter, to sweet end.

Enter Peter.

Mar. I would Frier Peter Isab. Oh peace, the Frier is come

Peter. Come I haue found you out a stand most fit, Where you may haue such vantage on the Duke He shall not passe you: Twice haue the Trumpets sounded. The generous, and grauest Citizens Haue hent the gates, and very neere vpon The Duke is entring: Therefore hence away.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Duke, Varrius, Lords, Angelo, Esculus, Lucio, Citizens at seuerall doores.

Duk. My very worthy Cosen, fairely met, Our old, and faithfull friend, we are glad to see you

Ang. Esc. Happy returne be to your royall grace

Duk. Many and harty thankings to you both: We haue made enquiry of you, and we heare Such goodnesse of your Iustice, that our soule Cannot but yeeld you forth to publique thankes Forerunning more requitall

Ang. You make my bonds still greater

Duk. Oh your desert speaks loud, & I should wrong it To locke it in the wards of couert bosome When it deserues with characters of brasse A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time, And razure of obliuion: Giue we your hand And let the Subiect see, to make them know That outward curtesies would faine proclaime Fauours that keepe within: Come Escalus, You must walke by vs, on our other hand: And good supporters are you.

Enter Peter and Isabella.

Peter. Now is your time Speake loud, and kneele before him

Isab. Iustice, O royall Duke, vaile your regard Vpon a wrong'd (I would faine haue said a Maid) Oh worthy Prince, dishonor not your eye By throwing it on any other obiect, Till you haue heard me, in my true complaint, And giuen me Iustice, Iustice, Iustice, Iustice

Duk. Relate your wrongs; In what, by whom? be briefe: Here is Lord Angelo shall giue you Iustice, Reueale your selfe to him

Isab. Oh worthy Duke, You bid me seeke redemption of the diuell, Heare me your selfe: for that which I must speake Must either punish me, not being beleeu'd, Or wring redresse from you: Heare me: oh heare me, heere

Ang. My Lord, her wits I feare me are not firme: She hath bin a suitor to me, for her Brother Cut off by course of Iustice

Isab. By course of Iustice

Ang. And she will speake most bitterly, and strange

Isab. Most strange: but yet most truely wil I speake, That Angelo's forsworne, is it not strange? That Angelo's a murtherer, is't not strange? That Angelo is an adulterous thiefe, An hypocrite, a virgin violator, Is it not strange? and strange? Duke. Nay it is ten times strange? Isa. It is not truer he is Angelo, Then this is all as true, as it is strange; Nay, it is ten times true, for truth is truth To th' end of reckning

Duke. Away with her: poore soule She speakes this, in th' infirmity of sence

Isa. Oh Prince, I coniure thee, as thou beleeu'st There is another comfort, then this world, That thou neglect me not, with that opinion That I am touch'd with madnesse: make not impossible That which but seemes vnlike, 'tis not impossible But one, the wickedst caitiffe on the ground May seeme as shie, as graue, as iust, as absolute: As Angelo, euen so may Angelo In all his dressings, caracts, titles, formes, Be an arch-villaine: Beleeue it, royall Prince If he be lesse, he's nothing, but he's more, Had I more name for badnesse

Duke. By mine honesty If she be mad, as I beleeue no other, Her madnesse hath the oddest frame of sense, Such a dependancy of thing, on thing, As ere I heard in madnesse

Isab. Oh gracious Duke Harpe not on that; nor do not banish reason For inequality, but let your reason serue To make the truth appeare, where it seemes hid, And hide the false seemes true

Duk. Many that are not mad Haue sure more lacke of reason: What would you say? Isab. I am the Sister of one Claudio, Condemnd vpon the Act of Fornication To loose his head, condemn'd by Angelo, I, (in probation of a Sisterhood) Was sent to by my Brother; one Lucio As then the Messenger

Luc. That's I, and't like your Grace: I came to her from Claudio, and desir'd her, To try her gracious fortune with Lord Angelo, For her poore Brothers pardon

Isab. That's he indeede

Duk. You were not bid to speake

Luc. No, my good Lord, Nor wish'd to hold my peace

Duk. I wish you now then, Pray you take note of it: and when you haue A businesse for your selfe: pray heauen you then Be perfect

Luc. I warrant your honor

Duk. The warrant's for your selfe: take heede to't

Isab. This Gentleman told somewhat of my Tale

Luc. Right

Duk. It may be right, but you are i'the wrong To speake before your time: proceed, Isab. I went To this pernicious Caitiffe Deputie

Duk. That's somewhat madly spoken

Isab. Pardon it, The phrase is to the matter

Duke. Mended againe: the matter: proceed

Isab. In briefe, to set the needlesse processe by: How I perswaded, how I praid, and kneel'd, How he refeld me, and how I replide (For this was of much length) the vild conclusion I now begin with griefe, and shame to vtter. He would not, but by gift of my chaste body To his concupiscible intemperate lust Release my brother; and after much debatement, My sisterly remorse, confutes mine honour, And I did yeeld to him: But the next morne betimes, His purpose surfetting, he sends a warrant For my poore brothers head

Duke. This is most likely

Isab. Oh that it were as like as it is true

Duk. By heauen (fond wretch) y knowst not what thou speak'st, Or else thou art suborn'd against his honor In hatefull practise: first his Integritie Stands without blemish: next it imports no reason, That with such vehemency he should pursue Faults proper to himselfe: if he had so offended He would haue waigh'd thy brother by himselfe, And not haue cut him off: some one hath set you on: Confesse the truth, and say by whose aduice Thou cam'st heere to complaine

Isab. And is this all? Then oh you blessed Ministers aboue Keepe me in patience, and with ripened time Vnfold the euill, which is heere wrapt vp In countenance: heauen shield your Grace from woe, As I thus wrong'd, hence vnbeleeued goe

Duke. I know you'ld faine be gone: An Officer: To prison with her: Shall we thus permit A blasting and a scandalous breath to fall, On him so neere vs? This needs must be a practise: Who knew of your intent and comming hither? Isa. One that I would were heere, Frier Lodowick

Duk. A ghostly Father, belike: Who knowes that Lodowicke? Luc. My Lord, I know him, 'tis a medling Fryer, I doe not like the man: had he been Lay my Lord, For certaine words he spake against your Grace In your retirment, I had swing'd him soundly

Duke. Words against mee? this' a good Fryer belike And to set on this wretched woman here Against our Substitute: Let this Fryer be found

Luc. But yesternight my Lord, she and that Fryer I saw them at the prison: a sawcy Fryar, A very scuruy fellow

Peter. Blessed be your Royall Grace: I haue stood by my Lord, and I haue heard Your royall eare abus'd: first hath this woman Most wrongfully accus'd your Substitute, Who is as free from touch, or soyle with her As she from one vngot

Duke. We did beleeue no lesse. Know you that Frier Lodowick that she speakes of? Peter. I know him for a man diuine and holy, Not scuruy, nor a temporary medler As he's reported by this Gentleman: And on my trust, a man that neuer yet Did (as he vouches) mis-report your Grace

Luc. My Lord, most villanously, beleeue it

Peter. Well: he in time may come to cleere himselfe; But at this instant he is sicke, my Lord: Of a strange Feauor: vpon his meere request Being come to knowledge, that there was complaint Intended 'gainst Lord Angelo, came I hether To speake as from his mouth, what he doth know Is true, and false: And what he with his oath And all probation will make vp full cleare Whensoeuer he's conuented: First for this woman, To iustifie this worthy Noble man So vulgarly and personally accus'd, Her shall you heare disproued to her eyes, Till she her selfe confesse it

Duk. Good Frier, let's heare it: Doe you not smile at this, Lord Angelo? Oh heauen, the vanity of wretched fooles. Giue vs some seates, Come cosen Angelo, In this I'll be impartiall: be you Iudge Of your owne Cause: Is this the Witnes Frier?

Enter Mariana.

First, let her shew your face, and after, speake

Mar. Pardon my Lord, I will not shew my face Vntill my husband bid me

Duke. What, are you married? Mar. No my Lord

Duke. Are you a Maid? Mar. No my Lord

Duk. A Widow then? Mar. Neither, my Lord

Duk. Why you are nothing then: neither Maid, Widow, nor Wife? Luc. My Lord, she may be a Puncke: for many of them, are neither Maid, Widow, nor Wife

Duk. Silence that fellow: I would he had some cause to prattle for himselfe

Luc. Well my Lord

Mar. My Lord, I doe confesse I nere was married, And I confesse besides, I am no Maid, I haue known my husband, yet my husband Knowes not, that euer he knew me

Luc. He was drunk then, my Lord, it can be no better

Duk. For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so to

Luc. Well, my Lord

Duk. This is no witnesse for Lord Angelo

Mar. Now I come to't, my Lord. Shee that accuses him of Fornication, In selfe-same manner, doth accuse my husband, And charges him, my Lord, with such a time, When I'le depose I had him in mine Armes With all th' effect of Loue

Ang. Charges she moe then me? Mar. Not that I know

Duk. No? you say your husband

Mar. Why iust, my Lord, and that is Angelo, Who thinkes he knowes, that he nere knew my body, But knows, he thinkes, that he knowes Isabels

Ang. This is a strange abuse: Let's see thy face

Mar. My husband bids me, now I will vnmaske. This is that face, thou cruell Angelo Which once thou sworst, was worth the looking on: This is the hand, which with a vowd contract Was fast belockt in thine: This is the body That tooke away the match from Isabell, And did supply thee at thy garden-house In her Imagin'd person

Duke. Know you this woman? Luc. Carnallie she saies

Duk. Sirha, no more

Luc. Enough my Lord

Ang. My Lord, I must confesse, I know this woman, And fiue yeres since there was some speech of marriage Betwixt my selfe, and her: which was broke off, Partly for that her promis'd proportions Came short of Composition: But in chiefe For that her reputation was dis-valued In leuitie: Since which time of fiue yeres I neuer spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her Vpon my faith, and honor

Mar. Noble Prince, As there comes light from heauen, and words fro[m] breath, As there is sence in truth, and truth in vertue, I am affianced this mans wife, as strongly As words could make vp vowes: And my good Lord, But Tuesday night last gon, in's garden house, He knew me as a wife. As this is true, Let me in safety raise me from my knees, Or else for euer be confixed here A Marble Monument

Ang. I did but smile till now, Now, good my Lord, giue me the scope of Iustice, My patience here is touch'd: I doe perceiue These poore informall women, are no more But instruments of some more mightier member That sets them on. Let me haue way, my Lord To finde this practise out

Duke. I, with my heart, And punish them to your height of pleasure. Thou foolish Frier, and thou pernicious woman Compact with her that's gone: thinkst thou, thy oathes, Though they would swear downe each particular Saint, Were testimonies against his worth, and credit That's seald in approbation? you, Lord Escalus Sit with my Cozen, lend him your kinde paines To finde out this abuse, whence 'tis deriu'd. There is another Frier that set them on, Let him be sent for

Peter. Would he were here, my Lord, for he indeed Hath set the women on to this Complaint; Your Prouost knowes the place where he abides, And he may fetch him

Duke. Goe, doe it instantly: And you, my noble and well-warranted Cosen Whom it concernes to heare this matter forth, Doe with your iniuries as seemes you best In any chastisement; I for a while Will leaue you; but stir not you till you haue Well determin'd vpon these Slanderers.

Enter.

Esc. My Lord, wee'll doe it throughly: Signior Lucio, did not you say you knew that Frier Lodowick to be a dishonest person? Luc. Cucullus non facit Monachum, honest in nothing but in his Clothes, and one that hath spoke most villanous speeches of the Duke

Esc. We shall intreat you to abide heere till he come, and inforce them against him: we shall finde this Frier a notable fellow

Luc. As any in Vienna, on my word

Esc. Call that same Isabell here once againe, I would speake with her: pray you, my Lord, giue mee leaue to question, you shall see how Ile handle her

Luc. Not better then he, by her owne report

Esc. Say you? Luc. Marry sir, I thinke, if you handled her priuately She would sooner confesse, perchance publikely she'll be asham'd.

Enter Duke, Prouost, Isabella

Esc. I will goe darkely to worke with her

Luc. That's the way: for women are light at midnight

Esc. Come on Mistris, here's a Gentlewoman, Denies all that you haue said

Luc. My Lord, here comes the rascall I spoke of, Here, with the Prouost

Esc. In very good time: speake not you to him, till we call vpon you

Luc. Mum

Esc. Come Sir, did you set these women on to slander Lord Angelo? they haue confes'd you did

Duk. 'Tis false

Esc. How? Know you where you are? Duk. Respect to your great place; and let the diuell Be sometime honour'd, for his burning throne. Where is the Duke? 'tis he should heare me speake

Esc. The Duke's in vs: and we will heare you speake, Looke you speake iustly

Duk. Boldly, at least. But oh poore soules, Come you to seeke the Lamb here of the Fox; Good night to your redresse: Is the Duke gone? Then is your cause gone too: The Duke's vniust, Thus to retort your manifest Appeale, And put your triall in the villaines mouth, Which here you come to accuse

Luc. This is the rascall: this is he I spoke of

Esc. Why thou vnreuerend, and vnhallowed Fryer: Is't not enough thou hast suborn'd these women, To accuse this worthy man? but in foule mouth, And in the witnesse of his proper eare, To call him villaine; and then to glance from him, To th'Duke himselfe, to taxe him with Iniustice? Take him hence; to th' racke with him: we'll towze you Ioynt by ioynt, but we will know his purpose: What? vniust? Duk. Be not so hot: the Duke dare No more stretch this finger of mine, then he Dare racke his owne: his Subiect am I not, Nor here Prouinciall: My businesse in this State Made me a looker on here in Vienna, Where I haue seene corruption boyle and bubble, Till it ore-run the Stew: Lawes, for all faults, But faults so countenanc'd, that the strong Statutes Stand like the forfeites in a Barbers shop, As much in mocke, as marke

Esc. Slander to th' State: Away with him to prison

Ang. What can you vouch against him Signior Lucio? Is this the man you did tell vs of? Luc. 'Tis he, my Lord: come hither goodman bald-pate, doe you know me? Duk. I remember you Sir, by the sound of your voice, I met you at the Prison, in the absence of the Duke

Luc. Oh, did you so? and do you remember what you said of the Duke

Duk. Most notedly Sir

Luc. Do you so Sir: And was the Duke a flesh-monger, a foole, and a coward, as you then reported him to be? Duk. You must (Sir) change persons with me, ere you make that my report: you indeede spoke so of him, and much more, much worse

Luc. Oh thou damnable fellow: did I not plucke thee by the nose, for thy speeches? Duk. I protest, I loue the Duke, as I loue my selfe

Ang. Harke how the villaine would close now, after his treasonable abuses

Esc. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withall: Away with him to prison: Where is the Prouost? away with him to prison: lay bolts enough vpon him: let him speak no more: away with those Giglets too, and with the other confederate companion

Duk. Stay Sir, stay a while

Ang. What, resists he? helpe him Lucio

Luc. Come sir, come sir, come sir: foh sir, why you bald-pated lying rascall: you must be hooded must you? show your knaues visage with a poxe to you: show your sheepe-biting face, and be hang'd an houre: Will't not off? Duk. Thou art the first knaue, that ere mad'st a Duke. First Prouost, let me bayle these gentle three: Sneake not away Sir, for the Fryer, and you, Must haue a word anon: lay hold on him

Luc. This may proue worse then hanging

Duk. What you haue spoke, I pardon: sit you downe, We'll borrow place of him; Sir, by your leaue: Ha'st thou or word, or wit, or impudence, That yet can doe thee office? If thou ha'st Rely vpon it, till my tale be heard, And hold no longer out

Ang. Oh, my dread Lord, I should be guiltier then my guiltinesse, To thinke I can be vndiscerneable, When I perceiue your grace, like powre diuine, Hath look'd vpon my passes. Then good Prince, No longer Session hold vpon my shame, But let my Triall, be mine owne Confession: Immediate sentence then, and sequent death, Is all the grace I beg

Duk. Come hither Mariana, Say: was't thou ere contracted to this woman? Ang. I was my Lord

Duk. Goe take her hence, and marry her instantly. Doe you the office (Fryer) which consummate, Returne him here againe: goe with him Prouost.

Enter.

Esc. My Lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonor, Then at the strangenesse of it

Duk. Come hither Isabell, Your Frier is now your Prince: As I was then Aduertysing, and holy to your businesse, (Not changing heart with habit) I am still, Atturnied at your seruice

Isab. Oh giue me pardon That I, your vassaile, haue imploid, and pain'd Your vnknowne Soueraigntie

Duk. You are pardon'd Isabell: And now, deere Maide, be you as free to vs. Your Brothers death I know sits at your heart: And you may maruaile, why I obscur'd my selfe, Labouring to saue his life: and would not rather Make rash remonstrance of my hidden powre, Then let him so be lost: oh most kinde Maid, It was the swift celeritie of his death, Which I did thinke, with slower foot came on, That brain'd my purpose: but peace be with him, That life is better life past fearing death, Then that which liues to feare: make it your comfort, So happy is your Brother.

Enter Angelo, Maria, Peter, Prouost.

Isab. I doe my Lord

Duk. For this new-maried man, approaching here, Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd Your well defended honor: you must pardon For Mariana's sake: But as he adiudg'd your Brother, Being criminall, in double violation Of sacred Chastitie, and of promise-breach, Thereon dependant for your Brothers life, The very mercy of the Law cries out Most audible, euen from his proper tongue. An Angelo for Claudio, death for death: Haste still paies haste, and leasure, answers leasure; Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure: Then Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested; Which though thou would'st deny, denies thee vantage. We doe condemne thee to the very Blocke Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste. Away with him

Mar. Oh my most gracious Lord, I hope you will not mocke me with a husband? Duk. It is your husband mock't you with a husband, Consenting to the safe-guard of your honor, I thought your marriage fit: else Imputation, For that he knew you, might reproach your life, And choake your good to come: For his Possessions, Although by confutation they are ours; We doe en-state, and widow you with all, To buy you a better husband

Mar. Oh my deere Lord, I craue no other, nor no better man

Duke. Neuer craue him, we are definitiue

Mar. Gentle my Liege

Duke. You doe but loose your labour. Away with him to death: Now Sir, to you

Mar. Oh my good Lord, sweet Isabell, take my part, Lend me your knees, and all my life to come, I'll lend you all my life to doe you seruice

Duke. Against all sence you doe importune her, Should she kneele downe, in mercie of this fact, Her Brothers ghost, his paued bed would breake, And take her hence in horror

Mar. Isabell: Sweet Isabel, doe yet but kneele by me, Hold vp your hands, say nothing: I'll speake all. They say best men are moulded out of faults, And for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad: So may my husband. Oh Isabel: will you not lend a knee? Duke. He dies for Claudio's death

Isab. Most bounteous Sir. Looke if it please you, on this man condemn'd, As if my Brother liu'd: I partly thinke, A due sinceritie gouerned his deedes, Till he did looke on me: Since it is so, Let him not die: my Brother had but Iustice, In that he did the thing for which he dide. For Angelo, his Act did not ore-take his bad intent, And must be buried but as an intent That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no subiects Intents, but meerely thoughts

Mar. Meerely my Lord

Duk. Your suite's vnprofitable: stand vp I say: I haue bethought me of another fault. Prouost, how came it Claudio was beheaded At an vnusuall howre? Pro. It was commanded so

Duke. Had you a speciall warrant for the deed? Pro. No my good Lord: it was by priuate message

Duk. For which I doe discharge you of your office, Giue vp your keyes

Pro. Pardon me, noble Lord, I thought it was a fault, but knew it not, Yet did repent me after more aduice, For testimony whereof, one in the prison That should by priuate order else haue dide, I haue reseru'd aliue

Duk. What's he? Pro. His name is Barnardine

Duke. I would thou hadst done so by Claudio: Goe fetch him hither, let me looke vpon him

Esc. I am sorry, one so learned, and so wise As you, Lord Angelo, haue stil appear'd, Should slip so grosselie, both in the heat of bloud And lacke of temper'd iudgement afterward

Ang. I am sorrie, that such sorrow I procure, And so deepe sticks it in my penitent heart, That I craue death more willingly then mercy, 'Tis my deseruing, and I doe entreat it.

Enter Barnardine and Prouost, Claudio, Iulietta.

Duke. Which is that Barnardine? Pro. This my Lord

Duke. There was a Friar told me of this man. Sirha, thou art said to haue a stubborne soule That apprehends no further then this world, And squar'st thy life according: Thou'rt condemn'd, But for those earthly faults, I quit them all, And pray thee take this mercie to prouide For better times to come: Frier aduise him, I leaue him to your hand. What muffeld fellow's that? Pro. This is another prisoner that I sau'd, Who should haue di'd when Claudio lost his head, As like almost to Claudio, as himselfe

Duke. If he be like your brother, for his sake Is he pardon'd, and for your louelie sake Giue me your hand, and say you will be mine, He is my brother too: But fitter time for that: By this Lord Angelo perceiues he's safe, Methinkes I see a quickning in his eye: Well Angelo, your euill quits you well. Looke that you loue your wife: her worth, worth yours I finde an apt remission in my selfe: And yet heere's one in place I cannot pardon, You sirha, that knew me for a foole, a Coward, One all of Luxurie, an asse, a mad man: Wherein haue I so deseru'd of you That you extoll me thus? Luc. 'Faith my Lord, I spoke it but according to the trick: if you will hang me for it you may: but I had rather it would please you, I might be whipt

Duke. Whipt first, sir, and hang'd after. Proclaime it Prouost round about the Citie, If any woman wrong'd by this lewd fellow (As I haue heard him sweare himselfe there's one whom he begot with childe) let her appeare, And he shall marry her: the nuptiall finish'd, Let him be whipt and hang'd

Luc. I beseech your Highnesse doe not marry me to a Whore: your Highnesse said euen now I made you a Duke, good my Lord do not recompence me, in making me a Cuckold

Duke. Vpon mine honor thou shalt marrie her. Thy slanders I forgiue, and therewithall Remit thy other forfeits: take him to prison, And see our pleasure herein executed

Luc. Marrying a punke my Lord, is pressing to death, Whipping and hanging

Duke. Slandering a Prince deserues it. She Claudio that you wrong'd, looke you restore. Ioy to you Mariana, loue her Angelo: I haue confes'd her, and I know her vertue. Thanks good friend, Escalus, for thy much goodnesse, There's more behinde that is more gratulate. Thanks Prouost for thy care, and secrecie, We shall imploy thee in a worthier place. Forgiue him Angelo, that brought you home The head of Ragozine for Claudio's, Th' offence pardons it selfe. Deere Isabell, I haue a motion much imports your good, Whereto if you'll a willing eare incline; What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine. So bring vs to our Pallace, where wee'll show What's yet behinde, that meete you all should know.

The Scene Vienna.

The names of all the Actors.

Vincentio: the Duke. Angelo, the Deputie. Escalus, an ancient Lord. Claudio, a yong Gentleman. Lucio, a fantastique. 2. Other like Gentlemen. Prouost. Thomas. 2. Friers. Peter. Elbow, a simple Constable. Froth, a foolish Gentleman. Clowne. Abhorson, an Executioner. Barnardine, a dissolute prisoner. Isabella, sister to Claudio. Mariana, betrothed to Angelo. Iuliet, beloued of Claudio. Francisca, a Nun. Mistris Ouer-don, a Bawd.

FINIS. MEASVRE, For Measure.

The Comedie of Errors

Actus primus, Scena prima.

Enter the Duke of Ephesus, with the Merchant of Siracusa, Iaylor, and other attendants.

Marchant. Proceed Solinus to procure my fall, And by the doome of death end woes and all

Duke. Merchant of Siracusa, plead no more. I am not partiall to infringe our Lawes; The enmity and discord which of late Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your Duke, To Merchants our well-dealing Countrimen, Who wanting gilders to redeeme their liues, Haue seal'd his rigorous statutes with their blouds, Excludes all pitty from our threatning lookes: For since the mortall and intestine iarres Twixt thy seditious Countrimen and vs, It hath in solemne Synodes beene decreed, Both by the Siracusians and our selues, To admit no trafficke to our aduerse townes: Nay more, if any borne at Ephesus Be seene at any Siracusian Marts and Fayres: Againe, if any Siracusian borne Come to the Bay of Ephesus, he dies: His goods confiscate to the Dukes dispose, Vnlesse a thousand markes be leuied To quit the penalty, and to ransome him: Thy substance, valued at the highest rate, Cannot amount vnto a hundred Markes, Therefore by Law thou art condemn'd to die

Mer. Yet this my comfort, when your words are done, My woes end likewise with the euening Sonne

Duk. Well Siracusian; say in briefe the cause Why thou departedst from thy natiue home? And for what cause thou cam'st to Ephesus

Mer. A heauier taske could not haue beene impos'd, Then I to speake my griefes vnspeakeable: Yet that the world may witnesse that my end Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence, Ile vtter what my sorrow giues me leaue. In Syracusa was I borne, and wedde Vnto a woman, happy but for me, And by me; had not our hap beene bad: With her I liu'd in ioy, our wealth increast By prosperous voyages I often made To Epidamium, till my factors death, And he great care of goods at randone left, Drew me from kinde embracements of my spouse; From whom my absence was not sixe moneths olde, Before her selfe (almost at fainting vnder The pleasing punishment that women beare) Had made prouision for her following me, And soone, and safe, arriued where I was: There had she not beene long, but she became A ioyfull mother of two goodly sonnes: And, which was strange, the one so like the other, As could not be distinguish'd but by names. That very howre, and in the selfe-same Inne, A meane woman was deliuered Of such a burthen Male, twins both alike: Those, for their parents were exceeding poore, I bought, and brought vp to attend my sonnes. My wife, not meanely prowd of two such boyes, Made daily motions for our home returne: Vnwilling I agreed, alas, too soone wee came aboord. A league from Epidamium had we saild Before the alwaies winde-obeying deepe Gaue any Tragicke Instance of our harme: But longer did we not retaine much hope; For what obscured light the heauens did grant, Did but conuay vnto our fearefull mindes A doubtfull warrant of immediate death, Which though my selfe would gladly haue imbrac'd, Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, Weeping before for what she saw must come, And pitteous playnings of the prettie babes That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to feare, Forst me to seeke delayes for them and me, And this it was: (for other meanes was none) The Sailors sought for safety by our boate, And left the ship then sinking ripe to vs. My wife, more carefull for the latter borne, Had fastned him vnto a small spare Mast, Such as sea-faring men prouide for stormes: To him one of the other twins was bound, Whil'st I had beene like heedfull of the other. The children thus dispos'd, my wife and I, Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fixt, Fastned our selues at eyther end the mast, And floating straight, obedient to the streame, Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought. At length the sonne gazing vpon the earth, Disperst those vapours that offended vs, And by the benefit of his wished light The seas waxt calme, and we discouered Two shippes from farre, making amaine to vs: Of Corinth that, of Epidarus this, But ere they came, oh let me say no more, Gather the sequell by that went before

Duk. Nay forward old man, doe not breake off so, For we may pitty, though not pardon thee

Merch. Oh had the gods done so, I had not now Worthily tearm'd them mercilesse to vs: For ere the ships could meet by twice fiue leagues, We were encountred by a mighty rocke, Which being violently borne vp, Our helpefull ship was splitted in the midst; So that in this vniust diuorce of vs, Fortune had left to both of vs alike, What to delight in, what to sorrow for, Her part, poore soule, seeming as burdened With lesser waight, but not with lesser woe, Was carried with more speed before the winde, And in our sight they three were taken vp By Fishermen of Corinth, as we thought. At length another ship had seiz'd on vs, And knowing whom it was their hap to saue, Gaue healthfull welcome to their ship-wrackt guests, And would haue reft the Fishers of their prey, Had not their backe beene very slow of saile; And therefore homeward did they bend their course. Thus haue you heard me seuer'd from my blisse, That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd, To tell sad stories of my owne mishaps

Duke. And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, Doe me the fauour to dilate at full, What haue befalne of them and they till now

Merch. My yongest boy, and yet my eldest care, At eighteene yeeres became inquisitiue After his brother; and importun'd me That his attendant, so his case was like, Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name, Might beare him company in the quest of him: Whom whil'st I laboured of a loue to see, I hazarded the losse of whom I lou'd. Fiue Sommers haue I spent in farthest Greece, Roming cleane through the bounds of Asia, And coasting homeward, came to Ephesus: Hopelesse to finde, yet loth to leaue vnsought Or that, or any place that harbours men: But heere must end the story of my life, And happy were I in my timelie death, Could all my trauells warrant me they liue

Duke. Haplesse Egeon whom the fates haue markt To beare the extremitie of dire mishap: Now trust me, were it not against our Lawes, Against my Crowne, my oath, my dignity, Which Princes would they may not disanull, My soule should sue as aduocate for thee: But though thou art adiudged to the death, And passed sentence may not be recal'd But to our honours great disparagement: Yet will I fauour thee in what I can; Therefore Marchant, Ile limit thee this day To seeke thy helpe by beneficiall helpe, Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus, Beg thou, or borrow, to make vp the summe, And liue: if no, then thou art doom'd to die: Iaylor, take him to thy custodie

Iaylor. I will my Lord

Merch. Hopelesse and helpelesse doth Egean wend, But to procrastinate his liuelesse end.

Exeunt.

Enter Antipholis Erotes, a Marchant, and Dromio.

Mer. Therefore giue out you are of Epidamium, Lest that your goods too soone be confiscate: This very day a Syracusian Marchant Is apprehended for a riuall here, And not being able to buy out his life, According to the statute of the towne, Dies ere the wearie sunne set in the West: There is your monie that I had to keepe

Ant. Goe beare it to the Centaure, where we host, And stay there Dromio, till I come to thee; Within this houre it will be dinner time, Till that Ile view the manners of the towne, Peruse the traders, gaze vpon the buildings, And then returne and sleepe within mine Inne, For with long trauaile I am stiffe and wearie. Get thee away

Dro. Many a man would take you at your word, And goe indeede, hauing so good a meane.

Exit Dromio.

Ant. A trustie villaine sir, that very oft, When I am dull with care and melancholly, Lightens my humour with his merry iests: What will you walke with me about the towne, And then goe to my Inne and dine with me? E.Mar. I am inuited sir to certaine Marchants, Of whom I hope to make much benefit: I craue your pardon, soone at fiue a clocke, Please you, Ile meete with you vpon the Mart, And afterward consort you till bed time: My present businesse cals me from you now

Ant. Farewell till then: I will goe loose my selfe, And wander vp and downe to view the Citie

E.Mar. Sir, I commend you to your owne content.

Exeunt.

Ant. He that commends me to mine owne content, Commends me to the thing I cannot get: I to the world am like a drop of water, That in the Ocean seekes another drop, Who falling there to finde his fellow forth, (Vnseene, inquisitiue) confounds himselfe. So I, to finde a Mother and a Brother, In quest of them (vnhappie a) loose my selfe.

Enter Dromio of Ephesus.

Here comes the almanacke of my true date: What now? How chance thou art return'd so soone

E.Dro. Return'd so soone, rather approacht too late: The Capon burnes, the Pig fals from the spit; The clocke hath strucken twelue vpon the bell: My Mistris made it one vpon my cheeke: She is so hot because the meate is colde: The meate is colde, because you come not home: You come not home, because you haue no stomacke: You haue no stomacke, hauing broke your fast: But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray, Are penitent for your default to day

Ant. Stop in your winde sir, tell me this I pray? Where haue you left the mony that I gaue you

E.Dro. Oh sixe pence that I had a wensday last, To pay the Sadler for my Mistris crupper: The Sadler had it Sir, I kept it not

Ant. I am not in a sportiue humor now: Tell me, and dally not, where is the monie? We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust So great a charge from thine owne custodie

E.Dro. I pray you iest sir as you sit at dinner: I from my Mistris come to you in post: If I returne I shall be post indeede. For she will scoure your fault vpon my pate: Me thinkes your maw, like mine, should be your cooke, And strike you home without a messenger

Ant. Come Dromio, come, these iests are out of season, Reserue them till a merrier houre then this: Where is the gold I gaue in charge to thee? E.Dro. To me sir? why you gaue no gold to me? Ant. Come on sir knaue, haue done your foolishnes, And tell me how thou hast dispos'd thy charge

E.Dro. My charge was but to fetch you fro[m] the Mart Home to your house, the Phoenix sir, to dinner; My Mistris and her sister staies for you

Ant. Now as I am a Christian answer me, In what safe place you haue bestow'd my monie; Or I shall breake that merrie sconce of yours That stands on tricks, when I am vndispos'd: Where is the thousand Markes thou hadst of me? E.Dro. I haue some markes of yours vpon my pate: Some of my Mistris markes vpon my shoulders: But not a thousand markes betweene you both. If I should pay your worship those againe, Perchance you will not beare them patiently

Ant. Thy Mistris markes? what Mistris slaue hast thou? E.Dro. Your worships wife, my Mistris at the Phoenix; She that doth fast till you come home to dinner: And praies that you will hie you home to dinner

Ant. What wilt thou flout me thus vnto my face Being forbid? There take you that sir knaue

E.Dro. What meane you sir, for God sake hold your hands: Nay, and you will not sir, Ile take my heeles.

Exeunt. Dromio Ep.

Ant. Vpon my life by some deuise or other, The villaine is ore-wrought of all my monie. They say this towne is full of cosenage: As nimble Iuglers that deceiue the eie: Darke working Sorcerers that change the minde: Soule-killing Witches, that deforme the bodie: Disguised Cheaters, prating Mountebankes; And manie such like liberties of sinne: If it proue so, I will be gone the sooner: Ile to the Centaur to goe seeke this slaue, I greatly feare my monie is not safe.

Enter.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Adriana, wife to Antipholis Sereptus, with Luciana her Sister.

Adr. Neither my husband nor the slaue return'd, That in such haste I sent to seeke his Master? Sure Luciana it is two a clocke

Luc. Perhaps some Merchant hath inuited him, And from the Mart he's somewhere gone to dinner: Good Sister let vs dine, and neuer fret; A man is Master of his libertie: Time is their Master, and when they see time, They'll goe or come; if so, be patient Sister

Adr. Why should their libertie then ours be more? Luc. Because their businesse still lies out adore

Adr. Looke when I serue him so, he takes it thus

Luc. Oh, know he is the bridle of your will

Adr. There's none but asses will be bridled so

Luc. Why, headstrong liberty is lasht with woe: There's nothing situate vnder heauens eye, But hath his bound in earth, in sea, in skie. The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowles Are their males subiects, and at their controules: Man more diuine, the Master of all these, Lord of the wide world, and wilde watry seas, Indued with intellectuall sence and soules, Of more preheminence then fish and fowles, Are masters to their females, and their Lords: Then let your will attend on their accords

Adri. This seruitude makes you to keepe vnwed

Luci. Not this, but troubles of the marriage bed

Adr. But were you wedded, you wold bear some sway Luc. Ere I learne loue, Ile practise to obey

Adr. How if your husband start some other where? Luc. Till he come home againe, I would forbeare

Adr. Patience vnmou'd, no maruel though she pause, They can be meeke, that haue no other cause: A wretched soule bruis'd with aduersitie, We bid be quiet when we heare it crie. But were we burdned with like waight of paine, As much, or more, we should our selues complaine: So thou that hast no vnkinde mate to greeue thee, With vrging helpelesse patience would releeue me; But if thou liue to see like right bereft, This foole-beg'd patience in thee will be left

Luci. Well, I will marry one day but to trie: Heere comes your man, now is your husband nie.

Enter Dromio Eph.

Adr. Say, is your tardie master now at hand? E.Dro. Nay, hee's at too hands with mee, and that my two eares can witnesse

Adr. Say, didst thou speake with him? knowst thou his minde? E.Dro. I, I, he told his minde vpon mine eare, Beshrew his hand, I scarce could vnderstand it

Luc. Spake hee so doubtfully, thou couldst not feele his meaning

E.Dro. Nay, hee strooke so plainly, I could too well feele his blowes; and withall so doubtfully, that I could scarce vnderstand them

Adri. But say, I prethee, is he comming home? It seemes he hath great care to please his wife

E.Dro. Why Mistresse, sure my Master is horne mad

Adri. Horne mad, thou villaine? E.Dro. I meane not Cuckold mad, But sure he is starke mad: When I desir'd him to come home to dinner, He ask'd me for a hundred markes in gold: 'Tis dinner time, quoth I: my gold, quoth he: Your meat doth burne, quoth I: my gold quoth he: Will you come, quoth I: my gold, quoth he; Where is the thousand markes I gaue thee villaine? The Pigge quoth I, is burn'd: my gold, quoth he: My mistresse, sir, quoth I: hang vp thy Mistresse: I know not thy mistresse, out on thy mistresse

Luci. Quoth who? E.Dr. Quoth my Master, I know quoth he, no house, no wife, no mistresse: so that my arrant due vnto my tongue, I thanke him, I bare home vpon my shoulders: for in conclusion, he did beat me there

Adri. Go back againe, thou slaue, & fetch him home

Dro. Goe backe againe, and be new beaten home? For Gods sake send some other messenger

Adri. Backe slaue, or I will breake thy pate a-crosse

Dro. And he will blesse y crosse with other beating: Betweene you, I shall haue a holy head

Adri. Hence prating pesant, fetch thy Master home

Dro. Am I so round with you, as you with me, That like a foot-ball you doe spurne me thus: You spurne me hence, and he will spurne me hither, If I last in this seruice, you must case me in leather

Luci. Fie how impatience lowreth in your face

Adri. His company must do his minions grace, Whil'st I at home starue for a merrie looke: Hath homelie age th' alluring beauty tooke From my poore cheeke? then he hath wasted it. Are my discourses dull? Barren my wit, If voluble and sharpe discourse be mar'd, Vnkindnesse blunts it more then marble hard. Doe their gay vestments his affections baite? That's not my fault, hee's master of my state. What ruines are in me that can be found, By him not ruin'd? Then is he the ground Of my defeatures. My decayed faire, A sunnie looke of his, would soone repaire. But, too vnruly Deere, he breakes the pale, And feedes from home; poore I am but his stale

Luci. Selfe-harming Iealousie; fie beat it hence

Ad. Vnfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispence: I know his eye doth homage other-where, Or else, what lets it but he would be here? Sister, you know he promis'd me a chaine, Would that alone, a loue he would detaine, So he would keepe faire quarter with his bed: I see the Iewell best enamaled Will loose his beautie: yet the gold bides still That others touch, and often touching will, Where gold and no man that hath a name, By falshood and corruption doth it shame: Since that my beautie cannot please his eie, Ile weepe (what's left away) and weeping die

Luci. How manie fond fooles serue mad Ielousie?

Enter.

Enter Antipholis Errotis.

Ant. The gold I gaue to Dromio is laid vp Safe at the Centaur, and the heedfull slaue Is wandred forth in care to seeke me out By computation and mine hosts report. I could not speake with Dromio, since at first I sent him from the Mart? see here he comes.

Enter Dromio Siracusia.

How now sir, is your merrie humor alter'd? As you loue stroakes, so iest with me againe: You know no Centaur? you receiu'd no gold? Your Mistresse sent to haue me home to dinner? My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad, That thus so madlie thou did didst answere me? S.Dro. What answer sir? when spake I such a word? E.Ant. Euen now, euen here, not halfe an howre since

S.Dro. I did not see you since you sent me hence Home to the Centaur with the gold you gaue me

Ant. Villaine, thou didst denie the golds receit, And toldst me of a Mistresse, and a dinner, For which I hope thou feltst I was displeas'd

S.Dro. I am glad to see you in this merrie vaine, What meanes this iest, I pray you Master tell me? Ant. Yea, dost thou ieere & flowt me in the teeth? Thinkst y I iest? hold, take thou that, & that.

Beats Dro.

S.Dr. Hold sir, for Gods sake, now your iest is earnest, Vpon what bargaine do you giue it me? Antiph. Because that I familiarlie sometimes Doe vse you for my foole, and chat with you, Your sawcinesse will iest vpon my loue, And make a Common of my serious howres, When the sunne shines, let foolish gnats make sport, But creepe in crannies, when he hides his beames: If you will iest with me, know my aspect, And fashion your demeanor to my lookes, Or I will beat this method in your sconce

S.Dro. Sconce call you it? so you would leaue battering, I had rather haue it a head, and you vse these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head, and Insconce it to, or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders, but I pray sir, why am I beaten? Ant. Dost thou not know? S.Dro. Nothing sir, but that I am beaten

Ant. Shall I tell you why? S.Dro. I sir, and wherefore; for they say, euery why hath a wherefore

Ant. Why first for flowting me, and then wherefore, for vrging it the second time to me

S.Dro. Was there euer anie man thus beaten out of season, when in the why and the wherefore, is neither rime nor reason. Well sir, I thanke you

Ant. Thanke me sir, for what? S.Dro. Marry sir, for this something that you gaue me for nothing

Ant. Ile make you amends next, to giue you nothing for something. But say sir, is it dinner time? S.Dro. No sir, I thinke the meat wants that I haue

Ant. In good time sir: what's that? S.Dro. Basting

Ant. Well sir, then 'twill be drie

S.Dro. If it be sir, I pray you eat none of it

Ant. Your reason? S.Dro. Lest it make you chollericke, and purchase me another drie basting

Ant. Well sir, learne to iest in good time, there's a time for all things

S.Dro. I durst haue denied that before you were so chollericke

Anti. By what rule sir? S.Dro. Marry sir, by a rule as plaine as the plaine bald pate of Father time himselfe

Ant. Let's heare it

S.Dro. There's no time for a man to recouer his haire that growes bald by nature

Ant. May he not doe it by fine and recouerie? S.Dro. Yes, to pay a fine for a perewig, and recouer the lost haire of another man

Ant. Why, is Time such a niggard of haire, being (as it is) so plentifull an excrement? S.Dro. Because it is a blessing that hee bestowes on beasts, and what he hath scanted them in haire, hee hath giuen them in wit

Ant. Why, but theres manie a man hath more haire then wit

S.Dro. Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his haire

Ant. Why thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit

S.Dro. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost; yet he looseth it in a kinde of iollitie

An. For what reason

S.Dro. For two, and sound ones to

An. Nay not sound I pray you

S.Dro. Sure ones then

An. Nay, not sure in a thing falsing

S.Dro. Certaine ones then

An. Name them

S.Dro. The one to saue the money that he spends in trying: the other, that at dinner they should not drop in his porrage

An. You would all this time haue prou'd, there is no time for all things

S.Dro. Marry and did sir: namely, in no time to recouer haire lost by Nature

An. But your reason was not substantiall, why there is no time to recouer

S.Dro. Thus I mend it: Time himselfe is bald, and therefore to the worlds end, will haue bald followers

An. I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion: but soft, who wafts vs yonder.

Enter Adriana and Luciana.

Adri. I, I, Antipholus, looke strange and frowne, Some other Mistresse hath thy sweet aspects: I am not Adriana, nor thy wife. The time was once, when thou vn-vrg'd wouldst vow, That neuer words were musicke to thine eare, That neuer obiect pleasing in thine eye, That neuer touch well welcome to thy hand, That neuer meat sweet-sauour'd in thy taste, Vnlesse I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or caru'd to thee. How comes it now, my Husband, oh how comes it, That thou art then estranged from thy selfe? Thy selfe I call it, being strange to me: That vndiuidable Incorporate Am better then thy deere selfes better part. Ah doe not teare away thy selfe from me; For know my loue: as easie maist thou fall A drop of water in the breaking gulfe, And take vnmingled thence that drop againe Without addition or diminishing, As take from me thy selfe, and not me too. How deerely would it touch thee to the quicke, Shouldst thou but heare I were licencious? And that this body consecrate to thee, By Ruffian Lust should be contaminate? Wouldst thou not spit at me, and spurne at me, And hurle the name of husband in my face, And teare the stain'd skin of my Harlot brow, And from my false hand cut the wedding ring, And breake it with a deepe-diuorcing vow? I know thou canst, and therefore see thou doe it. I am possest with an adulterate blot, My bloud is mingled with the crime of lust: For if we two be one, and thou play false, I doe digest the poison of thy flesh, Being strumpeted by thy contagion: Keepe then faire league and truce with thy true bed, I liue distain'd, thou vndishonoured

Antip. Plead you to me faire dame? I know you not: In Ephesus I am but two houres old, As strange vnto your towne, as to your talke, Who euery word by all my wit being scan'd, Wants wit in all, one word to vnderstand

Luci. Fie brother, how the world is chang'd with you: When were you wont to vse my sister thus? She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner

Ant. By Dromio? Drom. By me

Adr. By thee, and this thou didst returne from him. That he did buffet thee, and in his blowes, Denied my house for his, me for his wife

Ant. Did you conuerse sir with this gentlewoman: What is the course and drift of your compact? S.Dro. I sir? I neuer saw her till this time

Ant. Villaine thou liest, for euen her verie words, Didst thou deliuer to me on the Mart

S.Dro. I neuer spake with her in all my life

Ant. How can she thus then call vs by our names? Vnlesse it be by inspiration

Adri. How ill agrees it with your grauitie, To counterfeit thus grosely with your slaue, Abetting him to thwart me in my moode; Be it my wrong, you are from me exempt, But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. Come I will fasten on this sleeue of thine: Thou art an Elme my husband, I a Vine: Whose weaknesse married to thy stranger state, Makes me with thy strength to communicate: If ought possesse thee from me, it is drosse, Vsurping Iuie, Brier, or idle Mosse, Who all for want of pruning, with intrusion, Infect thy sap, and liue on thy confusion

Ant. To mee shee speakes, shee moues mee for her theame; What, was I married to her in my dreame? Or sleepe I now, and thinke I heare all this? What error driues our eies and eares amisse? Vntill I know this sure vncertaintie, Ile entertaine the free'd fallacie

Luc. Dromio, goe bid the seruants spred for dinner

S.Dro. Oh for my beads, I crosse me for a sinner. This is the Fairie land, oh spight of spights, We talke with Goblins, Owles and Sprights; If we obay them not, this will insue: They'll sucke our breath, or pinch vs blacke and blew

Luc. Why prat'st thou to thy selfe, and answer'st not? Dromio, thou Dromio, thou snaile, thou slug, thou sot

S.Dro. I am transformed Master, am I not? Ant. I thinke thou art in minde, and so am I

S.Dro. Nay Master, both in minde, and in my shape

Ant. Thou hast thine owne forme

S.Dro. No, I am an Ape

Luc. If thou art chang'd to ought, 'tis to an Asse

S.Dro. 'Tis true she rides me, and I long for grasse. 'Tis so, I am an Asse, else it could neuer be, But I should know her as well as she knowes me

Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a foole, To put the finger in the eie and weepe; Whil'st man and Master laughes my woes to scorne: Come sir to dinner, Dromio keepe the gate: Husband Ile dine aboue with you to day, And shriue you of a thousand idle prankes: Sirra, if any aske you for your Master, Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter: Come sister, Dromio play the Porter well

Ant. Am I in earth, in heauen, or in hell? Sleeping or waking, mad or well aduisde: Knowne vnto these, and to my selfe disguisde: Ile say as they say, and perseuer so: And in this mist at all aduentures go

S.Dro. Master, shall I be Porter at the gate? Adr. I, and let none enter, least I breake your pate

Luc. Come, come, Antipholus, we dine to late.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Antipholus of Ephesus, his man Dromio, Angelo the Goldsmith, and Balthaser the Merchant.

E.Anti. Good signior Angelo you must excuse vs all, My wife is shrewish when I keepe not howres; Say that I lingerd with you at your shop To see the making of her Carkanet, And that to morrow you will bring it home. But here's a villaine that would face me downe He met me on the Mart, and that I beat him, And charg'd him with a thousand markes in gold, And that I did denie my wife and house; Thou drunkard thou, what didst thou meane by this? E.Dro. Say what you wil sir, but I know what I know, That you beat me at the Mart I haue your hand to show; If y skin were parchment, & y blows you gaue were ink, Your owne hand-writing would tell you what I thinke

E.Ant. I thinke thou art an asse

E.Dro. Marry so it doth appeare By the wrongs I suffer, and the blowes I beare, I should kicke being kickt, and being at that passe, You would keepe from my heeles, and beware of an asse

E.An. Y'are sad signior Balthazar, pray God our cheer May answer my good will, and your good welcom here

Bal. I hold your dainties cheap sir, & your welcom deer

E.An. Oh signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, A table full of welcome, makes scarce one dainty dish

Bal. Good meat sir is co[m]mon that euery churle affords

Anti. And welcome more common, for thats nothing but words

Bal. Small cheere and great welcome, makes a merrie feast

Anti. I, to a niggardly Host, and more sparing guest: But though my cates be meane, take them in good part, Better cheere may you haue, but not with better hart. But soft, my doore is lockt; goe bid them let vs in

E.Dro. Maud, Briget, Marian, Cisley, Gillian, Ginn

S.Dro. Mome, Malthorse, Capon, Coxcombe, Idiot, Patch, Either get thee from the dore, or sit downe at the hatch: Dost thou coniure for wenches, that y calst for such store, When one is one too many, goe get thee from the dore

E.Dro. What patch is made our Porter? my Master stayes in the street

S.Dro. Let him walke from whence he came, lest hee catch cold on's feet

E.Ant. Who talks within there? hoa, open the dore

S.Dro. Right sir, Ile tell you when, and you'll tell me wherefore

Ant. Wherefore? for my dinner: I haue not din'd to day

S.Dro. Nor to day here you must not come againe when you may

Anti. What art thou that keep'st mee out from the howse I owe? S.Dro. The Porter for this time Sir, and my name is Dromio

E.Dro. O villaine, thou hast stolne both mine office and my name, The one nere got me credit, the other mickle blame: If thou hadst beene Dromio to day in my place, Thou wouldst haue chang'd thy face for a name, or thy name for an asse.

Enter Luce.

Luce. What a coile is there Dromio? who are those at the gate? E.Dro. Let my Master in Luce

Luce. Faith no, hee comes too late, and so tell your Master

E.Dro. O Lord I must laugh, haue at you with a Prouerbe, Shall I set in my staffe

Luce. Haue at you with another, that's when? can you tell? S.Dro. If thy name be called Luce, Luce thou hast answer'd him well

Anti. Doe you heare you minion, you'll let vs in I hope? Luce. I thought to haue askt you

S.Dro. And you said no

E.Dro. So come helpe, well strooke, there was blow for blow

Anti. Thou baggage let me in

Luce. Can you tell for whose sake? E.Drom. Master, knocke the doore hard

Luce. Let him knocke till it ake

Anti. You'll crie for this minion, if I beat the doore downe

Luce. What needs all that, and a paire of stocks in the towne?

Enter Adriana.

Adr. Who is that at the doore y keeps all this noise? S.Dro. By my troth your towne is troubled with vnruly boies

Anti. Are you there Wife? you might haue come before

Adri. Your wife sir knaue? go get you from the dore

E.Dro. If you went in paine Master, this knaue wold goe sore

Angelo. Heere is neither cheere sir, nor welcome, we would faine haue either

Baltz. In debating which was best, wee shall part with neither

E.Dro. They stand at the doore, Master, bid them welcome hither

Anti. There is something in the winde, that we cannot get in

E.Dro. You would say so Master, if your garments were thin. Your cake here is warme within: you stand here in the cold. It would make a man mad as a Bucke to be so bought and sold

Ant. Go fetch me something, Ile break ope the gate

S.Dro. Breake any breaking here, and Ile breake your knaues pate

E.Dro. A man may breake a word with your sir, and words are but winde: I and breake it in your face, so he break it not behinde

S.Dro. It seemes thou want'st breaking, out vpon thee hinde

E.Dro. Here's too much out vpon thee, I pray thee let me in

S.Dro. I, when fowles haue no feathers, and fish haue no fin

Ant. Well, Ile breake in: go borrow me a crow

E.Dro. A crow without feather, Master meane you so; For a fish without a finne, ther's a fowle without a fether, If a crow help vs in sirra, wee'll plucke a crow together

Ant. Go, get thee gon, fetch me an iron Crow

Balth. Haue patience sir, oh let it not be so, Heerein you warre against your reputation, And draw within the compasse of suspect Th' vnuiolated honor of your wife. Once this your long experience of your wisedome, Her sober vertue, yeares, and modestie, Plead on your part some cause to you vnknowne; And doubt not sir, but she will well excuse Why at this time the dores are made against you. Be rul'd by me, depart in patience, And let vs to the Tyger all to dinner, And about euening come your selfe alone, To know the reason of this strange restraint: If by strong hand you offer to breake in Now in the stirring passage of the day, A vulgar comment will be made of it; And that supposed by the common rowt Against your yet vngalled estimation, That may with foule intrusion enter in, And dwell vpon your graue when you are dead; For slander liues vpon succession: For euer hows'd, where it gets possession

Anti. You haue preuail'd, I will depart in quiet, And in despight of mirth meane to be merrie: I know a wench of excellent discourse, Prettie and wittie; wilde, and yet too gentle; There will we dine: this woman that I meane My wife (but I protest without desert) Hath oftentimes vpbraided me withall: To her will we to dinner, get you home And fetch the chaine, by this I know 'tis made, Bring it I pray you to the Porpentine, For there's the house: That chaine will I bestow (Be it for nothing but to spight my wife) Vpon mine hostesse there, good sir make haste: Since mine owne doores refuse to entertaine me, Ile knocke else-where, to see if they'll disdaine me

Ang. Ile meet you at that place some houre hence

Anti. Do so, this iest shall cost me some expence.

Exeunt.

Enter Iuliana, with Antipholus of Siracusia.

Iulia. And may it be that you haue quite forgot A husbands office? shall Antipholus Euen in the spring of Loue, thy Loue-springs rot? Shall loue in buildings grow so ruinate? If you did wed my sister for her wealth, Then for her wealths-sake vse her with more kindnesse: Or if you like else-where doe it by stealth, Muffle your false loue with some shew of blindnesse: Let not my sister read it in your eye: Be not thy tongue thy owne shames Orator: Looke sweet, speake faire, become disloyaltie: Apparell vice like vertues harbenger: Beare a faire presence, though your heart be tainted, Teach sinne the carriage of a holy Saint, Be secret false: what need she be acquainted? What simple thiefe brags of his owne attaine? 'Tis double wrong to truant with your bed, And let her read it in thy lookes at boord: Shame hath a bastard fame, well managed, Ill deeds is doubled with an euill word: Alas poore women, make vs not beleeue (Being compact of credit) that you loue vs, Though others haue the arme, shew vs the sleeue: We in your motion turne, and you may moue vs. Then gentle brother get you in againe; Comfort my sister, cheere her, call her wise; 'Tis holy sport to be a little vaine, When the sweet breath of flatterie conquers strife

S.Anti. Sweete Mistris, what your name is else I know not; Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine: Lesse in your knowledge, and your grace you show not, Then our earths wonder, more then earth diuine. Teach me deere creature how to thinke and speake: Lay open to my earthie grosse conceit: Smothred in errors, feeble, shallow, weake, The foulded meaning of your words deceit: Against my soules pure truth, why labour you, To make it wander in an vnknowne field? Are you a god? would you create me new? Transforme me then, and to your powre Ile yeeld. But if that I am I, then well I know, Your weeping sister is no wife of mine, Nor to her bed no homage doe I owe: Farre more, farre more, to you doe I decline: Oh traine me not sweet Mermaide with thy note, To drowne me in thy sister floud of teares: Sing Siren for thy selfe, and I will dote: Spread ore the siluer waues thy golden haires; And as a bud Ile take thee, and there lie: And in that glorious supposition thinke, He gaines by death, that hath such meanes to die: Let Loue, being light, be drowned if she sinke

Luc. What are you mad, that you doe reason so? Ant. Not mad, but mated, how I doe not know

Luc. It is a fault that springeth from your eie

Ant. For gazing on your beames faire sun being by

Luc. Gaze when you should, and that will cleere your sight

Ant. As good to winke sweet loue, as looke on night

Luc. Why call you me loue? Call my sister so

Ant. Thy sisters sister

Luc. That's my sister

Ant. No: it is thy selfe, mine owne selfes better part: Mine eies cleere eie, my deere hearts deerer heart; My foode, my fortune, and my sweet hopes aime; My sole earths heauen, and my heauens claime

Luc. All this my sister is, or else should be

Ant. Call thy selfe sister sweet, for I am thee: Thee will I loue, and with thee lead my life; Thou hast no husband yet, nor I no wife: Giue me thy hand

Luc. Oh soft sir, hold you still: Ile fetch my sister to get her good will.

Enter.

Enter Dromio, Siracusia.

Ant. Why how now Dromio, where run'st thou so fast? S.Dro. Doe you know me sir? Am I Dromio? Am I your man? Am I my selfe? Ant. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art thy selfe

Dro. I am an asse, I am a womans man, and besides my selfe

Ant. What womans man? and how besides thy selfe? Dro. Marrie sir, besides my selfe, I am due to a woman: One that claimes me, one that haunts me, one that will haue me

Anti. What claime laies she to thee? Dro. Marry sir, such claime as you would lay to your horse, and she would haue me as a beast, not that I beeing a beast she would haue me, but that she being a verie beastly creature layes claime to me

Anti. What is she? Dro. A very reuerent body: I such a one, as a man may not speake of, without he say sir reuerence, I haue but leane lucke in the match, and yet is she a wondrous fat marriage

Anti. How dost thou meane a fat marriage? Dro. Marry sir, she's the Kitchin wench, & al grease, and I know not what vse to put her too, but to make a Lampe of her, and run from her by her owne light. I warrant, her ragges and the Tallow in them, will burne a Poland Winter: If she liues till doomesday, she'l burne a weeke longer then the whole World

Anti. What complexion is she of? Dro. Swart like my shoo, but her face nothing like so cleane kept: for why? she sweats a man may goe ouer-shooes in the grime of it

Anti. That's a fault that water will mend

Dro. No sir, 'tis in graine, Noahs flood could not do it

Anti. What's her name? Dro. Nell Sir: but her name is three quarters, that's an Ell and three quarters, will not measure her from hip to hip

Anti. Then she beares some bredth? Dro. No longer from head to foot, then from hippe to hippe: she is sphericall, like a globe: I could find out Countries in her

Anti. In what part of her body stands Ireland? Dro. Marry sir in her buttockes, I found it out by the bogges

Ant. Where Scotland? Dro. I found it by the barrennesse, hard in the palme of the hand

Ant. Where France? Dro. In her forhead, arm'd and reuerted, making warre against her heire

Ant. Where England? Dro. I look'd for the chalkle Cliffes, but I could find no whitenesse in them. But I guesse, it stood in her chin by the salt rheume that ranne betweene France, and it

Ant. Where Spaine? Dro. Faith I saw it not: but I felt it hot in her breth

Ant. Where America, the Indies? Dro. Oh sir, vpon her nose, all ore embellished with Rubies, Carbuncles, Saphires, declining their rich Aspect to the hot breath of Spaine, who sent whole Armadoes of Carrects to be ballast at her nose

Anti. Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands? Dro. Oh sir, I did not looke so low. To conclude, this drudge or Diuiner layd claime to mee, call'd mee Dromio, swore I was assur'd to her, told me what priuie markes I had about mee, as the marke of my shoulder, the Mole in my necke, the great Wart on my left arme, that I amaz'd ranne from her as a witch. And I thinke, if my brest had not beene made of faith, and my heart of steele, she had transform'd me to a Curtull dog, & made me turne i'th wheele

Anti. Go hie thee presently, post to the rode, And if the winde blow any way from shore, I will not harbour in this Towne to night. If any Barke put forth, come to the Mart, Where I will walke till thou returne to me: If euerie one knowes vs, and we know none, 'Tis time I thinke to trudge, packe, and be gone

Dro. As from a Beare a man would run for life, So flie I from her that would be my wife.

Exit

Anti. There's none but Witches do inhabite heere, And therefore 'tis hie time that I were hence: She that doth call me husband, euen my soule Doth for a wife abhorre. But her faire sister Possest with such a gentle soueraigne grace, Of such inchanting presence and discourse, Hath almost made me Traitor to my selfe: But least my selfe be guilty to selfe wrong, Ile stop mine eares against the Mermaids song.

Enter Angelo with the Chaine.

Ang. Mr Antipholus

Anti. I that's my name

Ang. I know it well sir, loe here's the chaine, I thought to haue tane you at the Porpentine, The chaine vnfinish'd made me stay thus long

Anti. What is your will that I shal do with this? Ang. What please your selfe sir: I haue made it for you

Anti. Made it for me sir, I bespoke it not

Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twentie times you haue: Go home with it, and please your Wife withall, And soone at supper time Ile visit you, And then receiue my money for the chaine

Anti. I pray you sir receiue the money now. For feare you ne're see chaine, nor mony more

Ang. You are a merry man sir, fare you well.

Enter.

Ant. What I should thinke of this, I cannot tell: But this I thinke, there's no man is so vaine, That would refuse so faire an offer'd Chaine. I see a man heere needs not liue by shifts, When in the streets he meetes such Golden gifts: Ile to the Mart, and there for Dromio stay, If any ship put out, then straight away.

Enter.

Actus Quartus. Scoena Prima.

Enter a Merchant, Goldsmith, and an Officer.

Mar. You know since Pentecost the sum is due, And since I haue not much importun'd you, Nor now I had not, but that I am bound To Persia, and want Gilders for my voyage: Therefore make present satisfaction, Or Ile attach you by this Officer

Gold. Euen iust the sum that I do owe to you, Is growing to me by Antipholus, And in the instant that I met with you, He had of me a Chaine, at fiue a clocke I shall receiue the money for the same: Pleaseth you walke with me downe to his house, I will discharge my bond, and thanke you too.

Enter Antipholus Ephes.Dromio from the Courtizans.

Offi. That labour may you saue: See where he comes

Ant. While I go to the Goldsmiths house, go thou And buy a ropes end, that will I bestow Among my wife, and their confederates, For locking me out of my doores by day: But soft I see the Goldsmith; get thee gone, Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me

Dro. I buy a thousand pound a yeare, I buy a rope.

Exit Dromio

Eph.Ant. A man is well holpe vp that trusts to you, I promised your presence, and the Chaine, But neither Chaine nor Goldsmith came to me: Belike you thought our loue would last too long If it were chain'd together: and therefore came not

Gold. Sauing your merrie humor: here's the note How much your Chaine weighs to the vtmost charect, The finenesse of the Gold, and chargefull fashion, Which doth amount to three odde Duckets more Then I stand debted to this Gentleman, I pray you see him presently discharg'd, For he is bound to Sea, and stayes but for it

Anti. I am not furnish'd with the present monie: Besides I haue some businesse in the towne, Good Signior take the stranger to my house, And with you take the Chaine, and bid my wife Disburse the summe, on the receit thereof, Perchance I will be there as soone as you

Gold. Then you will bring the Chaine to her your selfe

Anti. No beare it with you, least I come not time enough

Gold. Well sir, I will? Haue you the Chaine about you? Ant. And if I haue not sir, I hope you haue: Or else you may returne without your money

Gold. Nay come I pray you sir, giue me the Chaine: Both winde and tide stayes for this Gentleman, And I too blame haue held him heere too long

Anti. Good Lord, you vse this dalliance to excuse Your breach of promise to the Porpentine, I should haue chid you for not bringing it, But like a shrew you first begin to brawle

Mar. The houre steales on, I pray you sir dispatch

Gold. You heare how he importunes me, the Chaine

Ant. Why giue it to my wife, and fetch your mony

Gold. Come, come, you know I gaue it you euen now. Either send the Chaine, or send me by some token

Ant. Fie, now you run this humor out of breath, Come where's the Chaine, I pray you let me see it

Mar. My businesse cannot brooke this dalliance, Good sir say, whe'r you'l answer me, or no: If not, Ile leaue him to the Officer

Ant. I answer you? What should I answer you

Gold. The monie that you owe me for the Chaine

Ant. I owe you none, till I receiue the Chaine

Gold. You know I gaue it you halfe an houre since

Ant. You gaue me none, you wrong mee much to say so

Gold. You wrong me more sir in denying it. Consider how it stands vpon my credit

Mar. Well Officer, arrest him at my suite

Offi. I do, and charge you in the Dukes name to obey me

Gold. This touches me in reputation. Either consent to pay this sum for me, Or I attach you by this Officer

Ant. Consent to pay thee that I neuer had: Arrest me foolish fellow if thou dar'st

Gold. Heere is thy fee, arrest him Officer. I would not spare my brother in this case, If he should scorne me so apparantly

Offic. I do arrest you sir, you heare the suite

Ant. I do obey thee, till I giue thee baile. But sirrah, you shall buy this sport as deere, As all the mettall in your shop will answer

Gold. Sir, sir, I shall haue Law in Ephesus, To your notorious shame, I doubt it not.

Enter Dromio Sira. from the Bay.

Dro. Master, there's a Barke of Epidamium, That staies but till her Owner comes aboord, And then sir she beares away. Our fraughtage sir, I haue conuei'd aboord, and I haue bought The Oyle, the Balsamum, and Aqua-vitae. The ship is in her trim, the merrie winde Blowes faire from land: they stay for nought at all, But for their Owner, Master, and your selfe

An. How now? a Madman? Why thou peeuish sheep What ship of Epidamium staies for me

S.Dro. A ship you sent me too, to hier waftage

Ant. Thou drunken slaue, I sent thee for a rope, And told thee to what purpose, and what end

S.Dro. You sent me for a ropes end as soone, You sent me to the Bay sir, for a Barke

Ant. I will debate this matter at more leisure And teach your eares to list me with more heede: To Adriana Villaine hie thee straight: Giue her this key, and tell her in the Deske That's couer'd o're with Turkish Tapistrie, There is a purse of Duckets, let her send it: Tell her, I am arrested in the streete, And that shall baile me: hie thee slaue, be gone, On Officer to prison, till it come.

Exeunt.

S.Dromio. To Adriana, that is where we din'd, Where Dowsabell did claime me for her husband, She is too bigge I hope for me to compasse, Thither I must, although against my will: For seruants must their Masters mindes fulfill.

Exit

Enter Adriana and Luciana.

Adr. Ah Luciana, did he tempt thee so? Might'st thou perceiue austeerely in his eie, That he did plead in earnest, yea or no: Look'd he or red or pale, or sad or merrily? What obseruation mad'st thou in this case? Oh, his hearts Meteors tilting in his face

Luc. First he deni'de you had in him no right

Adr. He meant he did me none: the more my spight Luc. Then swore he that he was a stranger heere

Adr. And true he swore, though yet forsworne hee were

Luc. Then pleaded I for you

Adr. And what said he? Luc. That loue I begg'd for you, he begg'd of me

Adr. With what perswasion did he tempt thy loue? Luc. With words, that in an honest suit might moue. First, he did praise my beautie, then my speech

Adr. Did'st speake him faire? Luc. Haue patience I beseech

Adr. I cannot, nor I will not hold me still. My tongue, though not my heart, shall haue his will. He is deformed, crooked, old, and sere, Ill-fac'd, worse bodied, shapelesse euery where: Vicious, vngentle, foolish, blunt, vnkinde, Stigmaticall in making worse in minde

Luc. Who would be iealous then of such a one? No euill lost is wail'd, when it is gone

Adr. Ah but I thinke him better then I say: And yet would herein others eies were worse: Farre from her nest the Lapwing cries away; My heart praies for him, though my tongue doe curse.

Enter S.Dromio.

Dro. Here goe: the deske, the purse, sweet now make haste

Luc. How hast thou lost thy breath? S.Dro. By running fast

Adr. Where is thy Master Dromio? Is he well? S.Dro. No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse then hell: A diuell in an euerlasting garment hath him; On whose hard heart is button'd vp with steele: A Feind, a Fairie, pittilesse and ruffe: A Wolfe, nay worse, a fellow all in buffe: A back friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that counterma[n]ds The passages of allies, creekes, and narrow lands: A hound that runs Counter, and yet draws drifoot well, One that before the Iudgme[n]t carries poore soules to hel

Adr. Why man, what is the matter? S.Dro. I doe not know the matter, hee is rested on the case

Adr. What is he arrested? tell me at whose suite? S.Dro. I know not at whose suite he is arested well; but is in a suite of buffe which rested him, that can I tell, will you send him Mistris redemption, the monie in his deske

Adr. Go fetch it Sister: this I wonder at.

Exit Luciana.

Thus he vnknowne to me should be in debt: Tell me, was he arested on a band? S.Dro. Not on a band, but on a stronger thing: A chaine, a chaine, doe you not here it ring

Adria. What, the chaine? S.Dro. No, no, the bell, 'tis time that I were gone: It was two ere I left him, and now the clocke strikes one

Adr. The houres come backe, that did I neuer here

S.Dro. Oh yes, if any houre meete a Serieant, a turnes backe for verie feare

Adri. As if time were in debt: how fondly do'st thou reason? S.Dro. Time is a verie bankerout, and owes more then he's worth to season. Nay, he's a theefe too: haue you not heard men say, That time comes stealing on by night and day? If I be in debt and theft, and a Serieant in the way, Hath he not reason to turne backe an houre in a day?

Enter Luciana.

Adr. Go Dromio, there's the monie, beare it straight, And bring thy Master home imediately. Come sister, I am prest downe with conceit: Conceit, my comfort and my iniurie.

Enter.

Enter Antipholus Siracusia.

There's not a man I meete but doth salute me As if I were their well acquainted friend, And euerie one doth call me by my name: Some tender monie to me, some inuite me; Some other giue me thankes for kindnesses; Some offer me Commodities to buy. Euen now a tailor cal'd me in his shop, And show'd me Silkes that he had bought for me, And therewithall tooke measure of my body. Sure these are but imaginarie wiles, And lapland Sorcerers inhabite here.

Enter Dromio. Sir.

S.Dro. Master, here's the gold you sent me for: what haue you got the picture of old Adam new apparel'd? Ant. What gold is this? What Adam do'st thou meane? S.Dro. Not that Adam that kept the Paradise: but that Adam that keepes the prison; hee that goes in the calues-skin, that was kil'd for the Prodigall: hee that came behinde you sir, like an euill angel, and bid you forsake your libertie

Ant. I vnderstand thee not

S.Dro. No? why 'tis a plaine case: he that went like a Base-Viole in a case of leather; the man sir, that when gentlemen are tired giues them a sob, and rests them: he sir, that takes pittie on decaied men, and giues them suites of durance: he that sets vp his rest to doe more exploits with his Mace, then a Moris Pike

Ant. What thou mean'st an officer? S.Dro. I sir, the Serieant of the Band: he that brings any man to answer it that breakes his Band: one that thinkes a man alwaies going to bed, and saies, God giue you good rest

Ant. Well sir, there rest in your foolerie: Is there any ships puts forth to night? may we be gone? S.Dro. Why sir, I brought you word an houre since, that the Barke Expedition put forth to night, and then were you hindred by the Serieant to tarry for the Hoy Delay: Here are the angels that you sent for to deliuer you

Ant. The fellow is distract, and so am I, And here we wander in illusions: Some blessed power deliuer vs from hence.

Enter a Curtizan.

Cur. Well met, well met, Master Antipholus: I see sir you haue found the Gold-smith now: Is that the chaine you promis'd me to day

Ant. Sathan auoide, I charge thee tempt me not

S.Dro. Master, is this Mistris Sathan? Ant. It is the diuell

S.Dro. Nay, she is worse, she is the diuels dam: And here she comes in the habit of a light wench, and thereof comes, that the wenches say God dam me, That's as much to say, God make me a light wench: It is written, they appeare to men like angels of light, light is an effect of fire, and fire will burne: ergo, light wenches will burne, come not neere her

Cur. Your man and you are maruailous merrie sir. Will you goe with me, wee'll mend our dinner here? S.Dro. Master, if do expect spoon-meate, or bespeake a long spoone

Ant. Why Dromio? S.Dro. Marrie he must haue a long spoone that must eate with the diuell

Ant. Auoid then fiend, what tel'st thou me of supping? Thou art, as you are all a sorceresse: I coniure thee to leaue me, and be gon

Cur. Giue me the ring of mine you had at dinner, Or for my Diamond the Chaine you promis'd, And Ile be gone sir, and not trouble you

S.Dro. Some diuels aske but the parings of ones naile, a rush, a haire, a drop of blood, a pin, a nut, a cherriestone: but she more couetous, wold haue a chaine: Master be wise, and if you giue it her, the diuell will shake her Chaine, and fright vs with it

Cur. I pray you sir my Ring, or else the Chaine, I hope you do not meane to cheate me so? Ant. Auant thou witch: Come Dromio let vs go

S.Dro. Flie pride saies the Pea-cocke, Mistris that you know.

Enter.

Cur. Now out of doubt Antipholus is mad, Else would he neuer so demeane himselfe, A Ring he hath of mine worth fortie Duckets, And for the same he promis'd me a Chaine, Both one and other he denies me now: The reason that I gather he is mad, Besides this present instance of his rage, Is a mad tale he told to day at dinner, Of his owne doores being shut against his entrance. Belike his wife acquainted with his fits, On purpose shut the doores against his way: My way is now to hie home to his house, And tell his wife, that being Lunaticke, He rush'd into my house, and tooke perforce My Ring away. This course I fittest choose, For fortie Duckets is too much to loose.

Enter Antipholus Ephes. with a Iailor.

An. Feare me not man, I will not breake away, Ile giue thee ere I leaue thee so much money To warrant thee as I am rested for. My wife is in a wayward moode to day, And will not lightly trust the Messenger, That I should be attach'd in Ephesus, I tell you 'twill sound harshly in her eares.

Enter Dromio Eph. with a ropes end.

Heere comes my Man, I thinke he brings the monie. How now sir? Haue you that I sent you for? E.Dro. Here's that I warrant you will pay them all

Anti. But where's the Money? E.Dro. Why sir, I gaue the Monie for the Rope

Ant. Fiue hundred Duckets villaine for a rope? E.Dro. Ile serue you sir fiue hundred at the rate

Ant. To what end did I bid thee hie thee home? E.Dro. To a ropes end sir, and to that end am I return'd

Ant. And to that end sir, I will welcome you

Offi. Good sir be patient

E.Dro. Nay 'tis for me to be patient, I am in aduersitie

Offi. Good now hold thy tongue

E.Dro. Nay, rather perswade him to hold his hands

Anti. Thou whoreson senselesse Villaine

E.Dro. I would I were senselesse sir, that I might not feele your blowes

Anti. Thou art sensible in nothing but blowes, and so is an Asse

E.Dro. I am an Asse indeede, you may prooue it by my long eares. I haue serued him from the houre of my Natiuitie to this instant, and haue nothing at his hands for my seruice but blowes. When I am cold, he heates me with beating: when I am warme, he cooles me with beating: I am wak'd with it when I sleepe, rais'd with it when I sit, driuen out of doores with it when I goe from home, welcom'd home with it when I returne, nay I beare it on my shoulders, as a begger woont her brat: and I thinke when he hath lam'd me, I shall begge with it from doore to doore.

Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtizan, and a Schoolemaster, call'd Pinch.

Ant. Come goe along, my wife is comming yonder

E.Dro. Mistris respice finem, respect your end, or rather the prophesie like the Parrat, beware the ropes end

Anti. Wilt thou still talke?

Beats Dro.

Curt. How say you now? Is not your husband mad? Adri. His inciuility confirmes no lesse: Good Doctor Pinch, you are a Coniurer, Establish him in his true sence againe, And I will please you what you will demand

Luc. Alas how fiery, and how sharpe he lookes

Cur. Marke, how he trembles in his extasie

Pinch. Giue me your hand, and let mee feele your pulse

Ant. There is my hand, and let it feele your eare

Pinch. I charge thee Sathan, hous'd within this man, To yeeld possession to my holie praiers, And to thy state of darknesse hie thee straight, I coniure thee by all the Saints in heauen

Anti. Peace doting wizard, peace; I am not mad

Adr. Oh that thou wer't not, poore distressed soule

Anti. You Minion you, are these your Customers? Did this Companion with the saffron face Reuell and feast it at my house to day, Whil'st vpon me the guiltie doores were shut, And I denied to enter in my house

Adr. O husband, God doth know you din'd at home Where would you had remain'd vntill this time, Free from these slanders, and this open shame

Anti. Din'd at home? Thou Villaine, what sayest thou? Dro. Sir sooth to say, you did not dine at home

Ant. Were not my doores lockt vp, and I shut out? Dro. Perdie, your doores were lockt, and you shut out

Anti. And did not she her selfe reuile me there? Dro. Sans Fable, she her selfe reuil'd you there

Anti. Did not her Kitchen maide raile, taunt, and scorne me? Dro. Certis she did, the kitchin vestall scorn'd you

Ant. And did not I in rage depart from thence? Dro. In veritie you did, my bones beares witnesse, That since haue felt the vigor of his rage

Adr. Is't good to sooth him in these contraries? Pinch. It is no shame, the fellow finds his vaine, And yeelding to him, humors well his frensie

Ant. Thou hast subborn'd the Goldsmith to arrest mee

Adr. Alas, I sent you Monie to redeeme you, By Dromio heere, who came in hast for it

Dro. Monie by me? Heart and good will you might, But surely Master not a ragge of Monie

Ant. Wentst not thou to her for a purse of Duckets

Adri. He came to me, and I deliuer'd it

Luci. And I am witnesse with her that she did: Dro. God and the Rope-maker beare me witnesse, That I was sent for nothing but a rope

Pinch. Mistris, both Man and Master is possest, I know it by their pale and deadly lookes, They must be bound and laide in some darke roome

Ant. Say wherefore didst thou locke me forth to day, And why dost thou denie the bagge of gold? Adr. I did not gentle husband locke thee forth

Dro. And gentle Mr I receiu'd no gold: But I confesse sir, that we were lock'd out

Adr. Dissembling Villain, thou speak'st false in both Ant. Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all, And art confederate with a damned packe, To make a loathsome abiect scorne of me: But with these nailes, Ile plucke out these false eyes, That would behold in me this shamefull sport.

Enter three or foure, and offer to binde him: Hee striues.

Adr. Oh binde him, binde him, let him not come neere me

Pinch. More company, the fiend is strong within him Luc. Aye me poore man, how pale and wan he looks

Ant. What will you murther me, thou Iailor thou? I am thy prisoner, wilt thou suffer them to make a rescue? Offi. Masters let him go: he is my prisoner, and you shall not haue him

Pinch. Go binde this man, for he is franticke too

Adr. What wilt thou do, thou peeuish Officer? Hast thou delight to see a wretched man Do outrage and displeasure to himselfe? Offi. He is my prisoner, if I let him go, The debt he owes will be requir'd of me

Adr. I will discharge thee ere I go from thee, Beare me forthwith vnto his Creditor, And knowing how the debt growes I will pay it. Good Master Doctor see him safe conuey'd Home to my house, oh most vnhappy day

Ant. Oh most vnhappie strumpet

Dro. Master, I am heere entred in bond for you

Ant. Out on thee Villaine, wherefore dost thou mad mee? Dro. Will you be bound for nothing, be mad good Master, cry the diuell

Luc. God helpe poore soules, how idlely doe they talke

Adr. Go beare him hence, sister go you with me: Say now, whose suite is he arrested at?

Exeunt. Manet Offic. Adri. Luci. Courtizan

Off. One Angelo a Goldsmith, do you know him? Adr. I know the man: what is the summe he owes? Off. Two hundred Duckets

Adr. Say, how growes it due

Off. Due for a Chaine your husband had of him

Adr. He did bespeake a Chain for me, but had it not

Cur. When as your husband all in rage to day Came to my house, and tooke away my Ring, The Ring I saw vpon his finger now, Straight after did I meete him with a Chaine

Adr. It may be so, but I did neuer see it. Come Iailor, bring me where the Goldsmith is, I long to know the truth heereof at large.

Enter Antipholus Siracusia with his Rapier drawne, and Dromio Sirac.

Luc. God for thy mercy, they are loose againe

Adr. And come with naked swords, Let's call more helpe to haue them bound againe.

Runne all out.

Off. Away, they'l kill vs.

Exeunt. omnes, as fast as may be, frighted.

S.Ant. I see these Witches are affraid of swords

S.Dro. She that would be your wife, now ran from you

Ant. Come to the Centaur, fetch our stuffe from thence: I long that we were safe and sound aboord

Dro. Faith stay heere this night, they will surely do vs no harme: you saw they speake vs faire, giue vs gold: me thinkes they are such a gentle Nation, that but for the Mountaine of mad flesh that claimes mariage of me, I could finde in my heart to stay heere still, and turne Witch

Ant. I will not stay to night for all the Towne, Therefore away, to get our stuffe aboord.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scoena Prima.

Enter the Merchant and the Goldsmith.

Gold. I am sorry Sir that I haue hindred you, But I protest he had the Chaine of me, Though most dishonestly he doth denie it

Mar. How is the man esteem'd heere in the Citie? Gold. Of very reuerent reputation sir, Of credit infinite, highly belou'd, Second to none that liues heere in the Citie: His word might beare my wealth at any time

Mar. Speake softly, yonder as I thinke he walkes.

Enter Antipholus and Dromio againe.

Gold. 'Tis so: and that selfe chaine about his necke, Which he forswore most monstrously to haue. Good sir draw neere to me, Ile speake to him: Signior Antipholus, I wonder much That you would put me to this shame and trouble, And not without some scandall to your selfe, With circumstance and oaths, so to denie This Chaine, which now you weare so openly. Beside the charge, the shame, imprisonment, You haue done wrong to this my honest friend, Who but for staying on our Controuersie, Had hoisted saile, and put to sea to day: This Chaine you had of me, can you deny it? Ant. I thinke I had, I neuer did deny it

Mar. Yes that you did sir, and forswore it too

Ant. Who heard me to denie it or forsweare it? Mar. These eares of mine thou knowst did hear thee: Fie on thee wretch, 'tis pitty that thou liu'st To walke where any honest men resort

Ant. Thou art a Villaine to impeach me thus, Ile proue mine honor, and mine honestie Against thee presently, if thou dar'st stand: Mar. I dare and do defie thee for a villaine.

They draw. Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtezan, & others.

Adr. Hold, hurt him not for God sake, he is mad, Some get within him, take his sword away: Binde Dromio too, and beare them to my house

S.Dro. Runne master run, for Gods sake take a house, This is some Priorie, in, or we are spoyl'd.

Exeunt. to the Priorie.

Enter Ladie Abbesse.

Ab. Be quiet people, wherefore throng you hither? Adr. To fetch my poore distracted husband hence, Let vs come in, that we may binde him fast, And beare him home for his recouerie

Gold. I knew he was not in his perfect wits

Mar. I am sorry now that I did draw on him

Ab. How long hath this possession held the man

Adr. This weeke he hath beene heauie, sower sad, And much different from the man he was: But till this afternoone his passion Ne're brake into extremity of rage

Ab. Hath he not lost much wealth by wrack of sea, Buried some deere friend, hath not else his eye Stray'd his affection in vnlawfull loue, A sinne preuailing much in youthfull men, Who giue their eies the liberty of gazing. Which of these sorrowes is he subiect too? Adr. To none of these, except it be the last, Namely, some loue that drew him oft from home

Ab. You should for that haue reprehended him

Adr. Why so I did

Ab. I but not rough enough

Adr. As roughly as my modestie would let me

Ab. Haply in priuate

Adr. And in assemblies too

Ab. I, but not enough

Adr. It was the copie of our Conference. In bed he slept not for my vrging it, At boord he fed not for my vrging it: Alone, it was the subiect of my Theame: In company I often glanced it: Still did I tell him, it was vilde and bad

Ab. And thereof came it, that the man was mad. The venome clamors of a iealous woman, Poisons more deadly then a mad dogges tooth. It seemes his sleepes were hindred by thy railing, And thereof comes it that his head is light. Thou saist his meate was sawc'd with thy vpbraidings, Vnquiet meales make ill digestions, Thereof the raging fire of feauer bred, And what's a Feauer, but a fit of madnesse? Thou sayest his sports were hindred by thy bralles. Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue But moodie and dull melancholly, Kinsman to grim and comfortlesse dispaire, And at her heeles a huge infectious troope Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life? In food, in sport, and life-preseruing rest To be disturb'd, would mad or man, or beast: The consequence is then, thy iealous fits Hath scar'd thy husband from the vse of wits

Luc. She neuer reprehended him but mildely, When he demean'd himselfe, rough, rude, and wildly, Why beare you these rebukes, and answer not? Adri. She did betray me to my owne reproofe, Good people enter, and lay hold on him

Ab. No, not a creature enters in my house

Ad. Then let your seruants bring my husband forth Ab. Neither: he tooke this place for sanctuary, And it shall priuiledge him from your hands, Till I haue brought him to his wits againe, Or loose my labour in assaying it

Adr. I will attend my husband, be his nurse, Diet his sicknesse, for it is my Office, And will haue no atturney but my selfe, And therefore let me haue him home with me

Ab. Be patient, for I will not let him stirre, Till I haue vs'd the approoued meanes I haue, With wholsome sirrups, drugges, and holy prayers To make of him a formall man againe: It is a branch and parcell of mine oath, A charitable dutie of my order, Therefore depart, and leaue him heere with me

Adr. I will not hence, and leaue my husband heere: And ill it doth beseeme your holinesse To separate the husband and the wife

Ab. Be quiet and depart, thou shalt not haue him

Luc. Complaine vnto the Duke of this indignity

Adr. Come go, I will fall prostrate at his feete, And neuer rise vntill my teares and prayers Haue won his grace to come in person hither, And take perforce my husband from the Abbesse

Mar. By this I thinke the Diall points at fiue: Anon I'me sure the Duke himselfe in person Comes this way to the melancholly vale; The place of depth, and sorrie execution, Behinde the ditches of the Abbey heere

Gold. Vpon what cause? Mar. To see a reuerent Siracusian Merchant, Who put vnluckily into this Bay Against the Lawes and Statutes of this Towne, Beheaded publikely for his offence

Gold. See where they come, we wil behold his death Luc. Kneele to the Duke before he passe the Abbey.

Enter the Duke of Ephesus, and the Merchant of Siracuse bare head, with the Headsman, & other Officers.

Duke. Yet once againe proclaime it publikely, If any friend will pay the summe for him, He shall not die, so much we tender him

Adr. Iustice most sacred Duke against the Abbesse

Duke. She is a vertuous and a reuerend Lady, It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong

Adr. May it please your Grace, Antipholus my husba[n]d, Who I made Lord of me, and all I had, At your important Letters this ill day, A most outragious fit of madnesse tooke him: That desp'rately he hurried through the streete, With him his bondman, all as mad as he, Doing displeasure to the Citizens, By rushing in their houses: bearing thence Rings, Iewels, any thing his rage did like. Once did I get him bound, and sent him home, Whil'st to take order for the wrongs I went, That heere and there his furie had committed, Anon I wot not, by what strong escape He broke from those that had the guard of him, And with his mad attendant and himselfe, Each one with irefull passion, with drawne swords Met vs againe, and madly bent on vs Chac'd vs away: till raising of more aide We came againe to binde them: then they fled Into this Abbey, whether we pursu'd them, And heere the Abbesse shuts the gates on vs, And will not suffer vs to fetch him out, Nor send him forth, that we may beare him hence. Therefore most gracious Duke with thy command, Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for helpe

Duke. Long since thy husband seru'd me in my wars And I to thee ingag'd a Princes word, When thou didst make him Master of thy bed, To do him all the grace and good I could. Go some of you, knocke at the Abbey gate, And bid the Lady Abbesse come to me: I will determine this before I stirre.

Enter a Messenger.

Oh Mistris, Mistris, shift and saue your selfe, My Master and his man are both broke loose, Beaten the Maids a-row, and bound the Doctor, Whose beard they haue sindg'd off with brands of fire, And euer as it blaz'd, they threw on him Great pailes of puddled myre to quench the haire; My Mr preaches patience to him, and the while His man with Cizers nickes him like a foole: And sure (vnlesse you send some present helpe) Betweene them they will kill the Coniurer

Adr. Peace foole, thy Master and his man are here, And that is false thou dost report to vs

Mess. Mistris, vpon my life I tel you true, I haue not breath'd almost since I did see it. He cries for you, and vowes if he can take you, To scorch your face, and to disfigure you:

Cry within.

Harke, harke, I heare him Mistris: flie, be gone

Duke. Come stand by me, feare nothing: guard with Halberds

Adr. Ay me, it is my husband: witnesse you, That he is borne about inuisible, Euen now we hous'd him in the Abbey heere. And now he's there, past thought of humane reason.

Enter Antipholus, and E.Dromio of Ephesus.

E.Ant. Iustice most gracious Duke, oh grant me iustice, Euen for the seruice that long since I did thee, When I bestrid thee in the warres, and tooke Deepe scarres to saue thy life; euen for the blood That then I lost for thee, now grant me iustice

Mar.Fat. Vnlesse the feare of death doth make me dote, I see my sonne Antipholus and Dromio

E.Ant. Iustice (sweet Prince) against y Woman there: She whom thou gau'st to me to be my wife; That hath abused and dishonored me, Euen in the strength and height of iniurie: Beyond imagination is the wrong That she this day hath shamelesse throwne on me

Duke. Discouer how, and thou shalt finde me iust

E.Ant. This day (great Duke) she shut the doores vpon me, While she with Harlots feasted in my house

Duke. A greeuous fault: say woman, didst thou so? Adr. No my good Lord. My selfe, he, and my sister, To day did dine together: so befall my soule, As this is false he burthens me withall

Luc. Nere may I looke on day, nor sleepe on night, But she tels to your Highnesse simple truth

Gold. O periur'd woman! They are both forsworne, In this the Madman iustly chargeth them

E.Ant. My Liege, I am aduised what I say, Neither disturbed with the effect of Wine, Nor headie-rash prouoak'd with raging ire, Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad. This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner; That Goldsmith there, were he not pack'd with her, Could witnesse it: for he was with me then, Who parted with me to go fetch a Chaine, Promising to bring it to the Porpentine, Where Balthasar and I did dine together. Our dinner done, and he not comming thither, I went to seeke him. In the street I met him, And in his companie that Gentleman. There did this periur'd Goldsmith sweare me downe, That I this day of him receiu'd the Chaine, Which God he knowes, I saw not. For the which, He did arrest me with an Officer. I did obey, and sent my Pesant home For certaine Duckets: he with none return'd. Then fairely I bespoke the Officer To go in person with me to my house. By'th' way, we met my wife, her sister, and a rabble more Of vilde Confederates: Along with them They brought one Pinch, a hungry leane-fac'd Villaine; A meere Anatomie, a Mountebanke, A thred-bare Iugler, and a Fortune-teller, A needy-hollow-ey'd-sharpe-looking-wretch; A liuing dead man. This pernicious slaue, Forsooth tooke on him as a Coniurer: And gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse, And with no-face (as 'twere) out-facing me, Cries out, I was possest. Then altogether They fell vpon me, bound me, bore me thence, And in a darke and dankish vault at home There left me and my man, both bound together, Till gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gain'd my freedome; and immediately Ran hether to your Grace, whom I beseech To giue me ample satisfaction For these deepe shames, and great indignities

Gold. My Lord, in truth, thus far I witnes with him: That he din'd not at home, but was lock'd out

Duke. But had he such a Chaine of thee, or no? Gold. He had my Lord, and when he ran in heere, These people saw the Chaine about his necke

Mar. Besides, I will be sworne these eares of mine, Heard you confesse you had the Chaine of him, After you first forswore it on the Mart, And thereupon I drew my sword on you: And then you fled into this Abbey heere, From whence I thinke you are come by Miracle

E.Ant. I neuer came within these Abbey wals, Nor euer didst thou draw thy sword on me: I neuer saw the Chaine, so helpe me heauen: And this is false you burthen me withall

Duke. Why what an intricate impeach is this? I thinke you all haue drunke of Circes cup: If heere you hous'd him, heere he would haue bin. If he were mad, he would not pleade so coldly: You say he din'd at home, the Goldsmith heere Denies that saying. Sirra, what say you? E.Dro. Sir he din'de with her there, at the Porpentine

Cur. He did, and from my finger snacht that Ring

E.Anti. Tis true (my Liege) this Ring I had of her

Duke. Saw'st thou him enter at the Abbey heere? Curt. As sure (my Liege) as I do see your Grace

Duke. Why this is straunge: Go call the Abbesse hither. I thinke you are all mated, or starke mad.

Exit one to the Abbesse.

Fa. Most mighty Duke, vouchsafe me speak a word: Haply I see a friend will saue my life, And pay the sum that may deliuer me

Duke. Speake freely Siracusian what thou wilt

Fath. Is not your name sir call'd Antipholus? And is not that your bondman Dromio? E.Dro. Within this houre I was his bondman sir, But he I thanke him gnaw'd in two my cords, Now am I Dromio, and his man, vnbound

Fath. I am sure you both of you remember me

Dro. Our selues we do remember sir by you: For lately we were bound as you are now. You are not Pinches patient, are you sir? Father. Why looke you strange on me? you know me well

E.Ant. I neuer saw you in my life till now

Fa. Oh! griefe hath chang'd me since you saw me last, And carefull houres with times deformed hand, Haue written strange defeatures in my face: But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice? Ant. Neither

Fat. Dromio, nor thou? Dro. No trust me sir, nor I

Fa. I am sure thou dost? E.Dromio. I sir, but I am sure I do not, and whatsoeuer a man denies, you are now bound to beleeue him

Fath. Not know my voice, oh times extremity Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poore tongue In seuen short yeares, that heere my onely sonne Knowes not my feeble key of vntun'd cares? Though now this grained face of mine be hid In sap-consuming Winters drizled snow, And all the Conduits of my blood froze vp: Yet hath my night of life some memorie: My wasting lampes some fading glimmer left; My dull deafe eares a little vse to heare: All these old witnesses, I cannot erre. Tell me, thou art my sonne Antipholus

Ant. I neuer saw my Father in my life

Fa. But seuen yeares since, in Siracusa boy Thou know'st we parted, but perhaps my sonne, Thou sham'st to acknowledge me in miserie

Ant. The Duke, and all that know me in the City, Can witnesse with me that it is not so. I ne're saw Siracusa in my life

Duke. I tell thee Siracusian, twentie yeares Haue I bin Patron to Antipholus, During which time, he ne're saw Siracusa: I see thy age and dangers make thee dote.

Enter the Abbesse with Antipholus Siracusa, and Dromio Sir.

Abbesse. Most mightie Duke, behold a man much wrong'd.

All gather to see them.

Adr. I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceiue me

Duke. One of these men is genius to the other: And so of these, which is the naturall man, And which the spirit? Who deciphers them? S.Dromio. I Sir am Dromio, command him away

E.Dro. I Sir am Dromio, pray let me stay

S.Ant. Egeon art thou not? or else his ghost

S.Drom. Oh my olde Master, who hath bound him heere? Abb. Who euer bound him, I will lose his bonds, And gaine a husband by his libertie: Speake olde Egeon, if thou bee'st the man That hadst a wife once call'd Aemilia, That bore thee at a burthen two faire sonnes? Oh if thou bee'st the same Egeon, speake: And speake vnto the same Aemilia

Duke. Why heere begins his Morning storie right: These two Antipholus, these two so like, And these two Dromio's, one in semblance: Besides her vrging of her wracke at sea, These are the parents to these children, Which accidentally are met together

Fa. If I dreame not, thou art Aemilia, If thou art she, tell me, where is that sonne That floated with thee on the fatall rafte

Abb. By men of Epidamium, he, and I, And the twin Dromio, all were taken vp; But by and by, rude Fishermen of Corinth By force tooke Dromio, and my sonne from them, And me they left with those of Epidamium. What then became of them, I cannot tell: I, to this fortune that you see mee in

Duke. Antipholus thou cam'st from Corinth first

S.Ant. No sir, not I, I came from Siracuse

Duke. Stay, stand apart, I know not which is which

E.Ant. I came from Corinth my most gracious Lord E.Dro. And I with him

E.Ant. Brought to this Town by that most famous Warriour, Duke Menaphon your most renowned Vnckle

Adr. Which of you two did dine with me to day? S.Ant. I, gentle Mistris

Adr. And are not you my husband? E.Ant. No, I say nay to that

S.Ant. And so do I, yet did she call me so: And this faire Gentlewoman her sister heere Did call me brother. What I told you then, I hope I shall haue leisure to make good, If this be not a dreame I see and heare

Goldsmith. That is the Chaine sir, which you had of mee

S.Ant. I thinke it be sir, I denie it not

E.Ant. And you sir for this Chaine arrested me

Gold. I thinke I did sir, I deny it not

Adr. I sent you monie sir to be your baile By Dromio, but I thinke he brought it not

E.Dro. No, none by me

S.Ant. This purse of Duckets I receiu'd from you, And Dromio my man did bring them me: I see we still did meete each others man, And I was tane for him, and he for me, And thereupon these errors are arose

E.Ant. These Duckets pawne I for my father heere

Duke. It shall not neede, thy father hath his life

Cur. Sir I must haue that Diamond from you

E.Ant. There take it, and much thanks for my good cheere

Abb. Renowned Duke, vouchsafe to take the paines To go with vs into the Abbey heere, And heare at large discoursed all our fortunes, And all that are assembled in this place: That by this simpathized one daies error Haue suffer'd wrong. Goe, keepe vs companie, And we shall make full satisfaction. Thirtie three yeares haue I but gone in trauaile Of you my sonnes, and till this present houre My heauie burthen are deliuered: The Duke my husband, and my children both, And you the Kalenders of their Natiuity, Go to a Gossips feast, and go with mee, After so long greefe such Natiuitie

Duke. With all my heart, Ile Gossip at this feast.

Exeunt. omnes. Manet the two Dromio's and two Brothers.

S.Dro. Mast[er]. shall I fetch your stuffe from shipbord? E.An. Dromio, what stuffe of mine hast thou imbarkt S.Dro. Your goods that lay at host sir in the Centaur

S.Ant. He speakes to me, I am your master Dromio. Come go with vs, wee'l looke to that anon, Embrace thy brother there, reioyce with him.

Exit

S.Dro. There is a fat friend at your masters house, That kitchin'd me for you to day at dinner: She now shall be my sister, not my wife, E.D. Me thinks you are my glasse, & not my brother: I see by you, I am a sweet-fac'd youth, Will you walke in to see their gossipping? S.Dro. Not I sir, you are my elder

E.Dro. That's a question, how shall we trie it

S.Dro. Wee'l draw Cuts for the Signior, till then, lead thou first

E.Dro. Nay then thus: We came into the world like brother and brother: And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.

Exeunt.

FINIS. The Comedie of Errors.

Much adoe about Nothing

Actus primus, Scena prima.

Enter Leonato Gouernour of Messina, Innogen his wife, Hero his daughter, and Beatrice his Neece, with a messenger.

Leonato. I learne in this Letter, that Don Peter of Arragon, comes this night to Messina

Mess. He is very neere by this: he was not three Leagues off when I left him

Leon. How many Gentlemen haue you lost in this action? Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name

Leon. A victorie is twice it selfe, when the atchieuer brings home full numbers: I finde heere, that Don Peter hath bestowed much honor on a yong Florentine, called Claudio

Mess. Much deseru'd on his part, and equally remembred by Don Pedro, he hath borne himselfe beyond the promise of his age, doing in the figure of a Lambe, the feats of a Lion, he hath indeede better bettred expectation, then you must expect of me to tell you how

Leo. He hath an Vnckle heere in Messina, wil be very much glad of it

Mess. I haue alreadie deliuered him letters, and there appeares much ioy in him, euen so much, that ioy could not shew it selfe modest enough, without a badg of bitternesse

Leo. Did he breake out into teares? Mess. In great measure

Leo. A kinde ouerflow of kindnesse, there are no faces truer, then those that are so wash'd, how much better is it to weepe at ioy, then to ioy at weeping? Bea. I pray you, is Signior Mountanto return'd from the warres, or no? Mess. I know none of that name, Lady, there was none such in the armie of any sort

Leon. What is he that you aske for Neece? Hero. My cousin meanes Signior Benedick of Padua Mess. O he's return'd, and as pleasant as euer he was

Beat. He set vp his bils here in Messina, & challeng'd Cupid at the Flight: and my Vnckles foole reading the Challenge, subscrib'd for Cupid, and challeng'd him at the Burbolt. I pray you, how many hath hee kil'd and eaten in these warres? But how many hath he kil'd? for indeed, I promis'd to eate all of his killing

Leon. 'Faith Neece, you taxe Signior Benedicke too much, but hee'l be meete with you, I doubt it not

Mess. He hath done good seruice Lady in these wars

Beat. You had musty victuall, and he hath holpe to ease it: he's a very valiant Trencher-man, hee hath an excellent stomacke

Mess. And a good souldier too Lady

Beat. And a good souldier to a Lady. But what is he to a Lord? Mess. A Lord to a Lord, a man to a man, stuft with all honourable vertues

Beat. It is so indeed, he is no lesse then a stuft man: but for the stuffing well, we are all mortall

Leon. You must not (sir) mistake my Neece, there is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick, & her: they neuer meet, but there's a skirmish of wit between them

Bea. Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict, foure of his fiue wits went halting off, and now is the whole man gouern'd with one: so that if hee haue wit enough to keepe himselfe warme, let him beare it for a difference betweene himselfe and his horse: For it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be knowne a reasonable creature. Who is his companion now? He hath euery month a new sworne brother

Mess. Is't possible? Beat. Very easily possible: he weares his faith but as the fashion of his hat, it euer changes with y next block

Mess. I see (Lady) the Gentleman is not in your bookes

Bea. No, and he were, I would burne my study. But I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young squarer now, that will make a voyage with him to the diuell? Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio

Beat. O Lord, he will hang vpon him like a disease: he is sooner caught then the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God helpe the noble Claudio, if hee haue caught the Benedict, it will cost him a thousand pound ere he be cur'd

Mess. I will hold friends with you Lady

Bea. Do good friend

Leo. You'l ne're run mad Neece

Bea. No, not till a hot Ianuary

Mess. Don Pedro is approach'd.

Enter don Pedro, Claudio, Benedicke, Balthasar, and Iohn the bastard.

Pedro. Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fashion of the world is to auoid cost, and you encounter it

Leon. Neuer came trouble to my house in the likenes of your Grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should remaine: but when you depart from me, sorrow abides, and happinesse takes his leaue

Pedro. You embrace your charge too willingly: I thinke this is your daughter

Leonato. Her mother hath many times told me so

Bened. Were you in doubt that you askt her? Leonato. Signior Benedicke, no, for then were you a childe

Pedro. You haue it full Benedicke, we may ghesse by this, what you are, being a man, truely the Lady fathers her selfe: be happie Lady, for you are like an honorable father

Ben. If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not haue his head on her shoulders for al Messina, as like him as she is

Beat. I wonder that you will still be talking, signior Benedicke, no body markes you

Ben. What my deere Ladie Disdaine! are you yet liuing? Beat. Is it possible Disdaine should die, while shee hath such meete foode to feede it, as Signior Benedicke? Curtesie it selfe must conuert to Disdaine, if you come in her presence

Bene. Then is curtesie a turne-coate, but it is certaine I am loued of all Ladies, onely you excepted: and I would I could finde in my heart that I had not a hard heart, for truely I loue none

Beat. A deere happinesse to women, they would else haue beene troubled with a pernitious Suter, I thanke God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that, I had rather heare my Dog barke at a Crow, than a man sweare he loues me

Bene. God keepe your Ladiship still in that minde, so some Gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate scratcht face

Beat. Scratching could not make it worse, and 'twere such a face as yours were

Bene. Well, you are a rare Parrat teacher

Beat. A bird of my tongue, is better than a beast of your

Ben. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer, but keepe your way a Gods name, I haue done

Beat. You alwaies end with a Iades tricke, I know you of old

Pedro. This is the summe of all: Leonato, signior Claudio, and signior Benedicke; my deere friend Leonato, hath inuited you all, I tell him we shall stay here, at the least a moneth, and he heartily praies some occasion may detaine vs longer: I dare sweare hee is no hypocrite, but praies from his heart

Leon. If you sweare, my Lord, you shall not be forsworne, let mee bid you welcome, my Lord, being reconciled to the Prince your brother: I owe you all duetie

Iohn. I thanke you, I am not of many words, but I thanke you

Leon. Please it your grace leade on? Pedro. Your hand Leonato, we will goe together.

Exeunt. Manet Benedicke and Claudio.

Clau. Benedicke, didst thou note the daughter of signior Leonato? Bene. I noted her not, but I lookt on her

Claud. Is she not a modest yong Ladie? Bene. Doe you question me as an honest man should doe, for my simple true iudgement? or would you haue me speake after my custome, as being a professed tyrant to their sexe? Clau. No, I pray thee speake in sober iudgement

Bene. Why yfaith me thinks shee's too low for a hie praise, too browne for a faire praise, and too little for a great praise, onely this commendation I can affoord her, that were shee other then she is, she were vnhandsome, and being no other, but as she is, I doe not like her

Clau. Thou think'st I am in sport, I pray thee tell me truely how thou lik'st her

Bene. Would you buie her, that you enquier after her? Clau. Can the world buie such a iewell? Ben. Yea, and a case to put it into, but speake you this with a sad brow? Or doe you play the flowting iacke, to tell vs Cupid is a good Hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare Carpenter: Come, in what key shall a man take you to goe in the song? Clau. In mine eie, she is the sweetest Ladie that euer I lookt on

Bene. I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no such matter: there's her cosin, and she were not possest with a furie, exceedes her as much in beautie, as the first of Maie doth the last of December: but I hope you haue no intent to turne husband, haue you? Clau. I would scarce trust my selfe, though I had sworne the contrarie, if Hero would be my wife

Bene. Ist come to this? in faith hath not the world one man but he will weare his cap with suspition? shall I neuer see a batcheller of three score againe? goe to yfaith, and thou wilt needes thrust thy necke into a yoke, weare the print of it, and sigh away sundaies: looke, don Pedro is returned to seeke you.

Enter don Pedro, Iohn the bastard.

Pedr. What secret hath held you here, that you followed not to Leonatoes? Bened. I would your Grace would constraine mee to tell

Pedro. I charge thee on thy allegeance

Ben. You heare, Count Claudio, I can be secret as a dumbe man, I would haue you thinke so (but on my allegiance, marke you this, on my allegiance) hee is in loue, With who? now that is your Graces part: marke how short his answere is, with Hero, Leonatoes short daughter

Clau. If this were so, so were it vttred

Bened. Like the old tale, my Lord, it is not so, nor 'twas not so: but indeede, God forbid it should be so

Clau. If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it should be otherwise

Pedro. Amen, if you loue her, for the Ladie is verie well worthie

Clau. You speake this to fetch me in, my Lord

Pedr. By my troth I speake my thought

Clau. And in faith, my Lord, I spoke mine

Bened. And by my two faiths and troths, my Lord, I speake mine

Clau. That I loue her, I feele

Pedr. That she is worthie, I know

Bened. That I neither feele how shee should be loued, nor know how shee should be worthie, is the opinion that fire cannot melt out of me, I will die in it at the stake

Pedr. Thou wast euer an obstinate heretique in the despight of Beautie

Clau. And neuer could maintaine his part, but in the force of his will Ben. That a woman conceiued me, I thanke her: that she brought mee vp, I likewise giue her most humble thankes: but that I will haue a rechate winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an inuisible baldricke, all women shall pardon me: because I will not do them the wrong to mistrust any, I will doe my selfe the right to trust none: and the fine is, (for the which I may goe the finer) I will liue a Batchellor

Pedro. I shall see thee ere I die, looke pale with loue

Bene. With anger, with sicknesse, or with hunger, my Lord, not with loue: proue that euer I loose more blood with loue, then I will get againe with drinking, picke out mine eyes with a Ballet-makers penne, and hang me vp at the doore of a brothel-house for the signe of blinde Cupid

Pedro. Well, if euer thou doost fall from this faith, thou wilt proue a notable argument

Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a Cat, & shoot at me, and he that hit's me, let him be clapt on the shoulder, and cal'd Adam

Pedro. Well, as time shall trie: In time the sauage Bull doth beare the yoake

Bene. The sauage bull may, but if euer the sensible Benedicke beare it, plucke off the bulles hornes, and set them in my forehead, and let me be vildely painted, and in such great Letters as they write, heere is good horse to hire: let them signifie vnder my signe, here you may see Benedicke the married man

Clau. If this should euer happen, thou wouldst bee horne mad

Pedro. Nay, if Cupid haue not spent all his Quiuer in Venice, thou wilt quake for this shortly

Bene. I looke for an earthquake too then

Pedro. Well, you will temporize with the houres, in the meane time, good Signior Benedicke, repaire to Leonatoes, commend me to him, and tell him I will not faile him at supper, for indeede he hath made great preparation

Bene. I haue almost matter enough in me for such an Embassage, and so I commit you

Clau. To the tuition of God. From my house, if I had it

Pedro. The sixt of Iuly. Your louing friend, Benedick

Bene. Nay mocke not, mocke not; the body of your discourse is sometime guarded with fragments, and the guardes are but slightly basted on neither, ere you flout old ends any further, examine your conscience, and so I leaue you.

Enter.

Clau. My Liege, your Highnesse now may doe mee good

Pedro. My loue is thine to teach, teach it but how, And thou shalt see how apt it is to learne Any hard Lesson that may do thee good

Clau. Hath Leonato any sonne my Lord? Pedro. No childe but Hero, she's his onely heire. Dost thou affect her Claudio? Clau. O my Lord, When you went onward on this ended action, I look'd vpon her with a souldiers eie, That lik'd, but had a rougher taske in hand, Than to driue liking to the name of loue: But now I am return'd, and that warre-thoughts Haue left their places vacant: in their roomes, Come thronging soft and delicate desires, All prompting mee how faire yong Hero is, Saying I lik'd her ere I went to warres

Pedro. Thou wilt be like a louer presently, And tire the hearer with a booke of words: If thou dost loue faire Hero, cherish it, And I will breake with her: wast not to this end, That thou beganst to twist so fine a story? Clau. How sweetly doe you minister to loue, That know loues griefe by his complexion! But lest my liking might too sodaine seeme, I would haue salu'd it with a longer treatise

Ped. What need y bridge much broder then the flood? The fairest graunt is the necessitie: Looke what will serue, is fit: 'tis once, thou louest, And I will fit thee with the remedie, I know we shall haue reuelling to night, I will assume thy part in some disguise, And tell faire Hero I am Claudio, And in her bosome Ile vnclaspe my heart, And take her hearing prisoner with the force And strong incounter of my amorous tale: Then after, to her father will I breake, And the conclusion is, shee shall be thine, In practise let vs put it presently.

Exeunt.

Enter Leonato and an old man, brother to Leonato.

Leo. How now brother, where is my cosen your son: hath he prouided this musicke? Old. He is very busie about it, but brother, I can tell you newes that you yet dreamt not of

Lo. Are they good? Old. As the euents stamps them, but they haue a good couer: they shew well outward, the Prince and Count Claudio walking in a thick pleached alley in my orchard, were thus ouer-heard by a man of mine: the Prince discouered to Claudio that hee loued my niece your daughter, and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance, and if hee found her accordant, hee meant to take the present time by the top, and instantly breake with you of it

Leo. Hath the fellow any wit that told you this? Old. A good sharpe fellow, I will send for him, and question him your selfe

Leo. No, no; wee will hold it as a dreame, till it appeare it selfe: but I will acquaint my daughter withall, that she may be the better prepared for an answer, if peraduenture this bee true: goe you and tell her of it: coosins, you know what you haue to doe, O I crie you mercie friend, goe you with mee and I will vse your skill, good cosin haue a care this busie time.

Exeunt.

Enter Sir Iohn the Bastard, and Conrade his companion.

Con. What the good yeere my Lord, why are you thus out of measure sad? Ioh. There is no measure in the occasion that breeds, therefore the sadnesse is without limit

Con. You should heare reason

Iohn. And when I haue heard it, what blessing bringeth it? Con. If not a present remedy, yet a patient sufferance

Ioh. I wonder that thou (being as thou saist thou art, borne vnder Saturne) goest about to apply a morall medicine, to a mortifying mischiefe: I cannot hide what I am: I must bee sad when I haue cause, and smile at no mans iests, eat when I haue stomacke, and wait for no mans leisure: sleepe when I am drowsie, and tend on no mans businesse, laugh when I am merry, and claw no man in his humor

Con. Yea, but you must not make the ful show of this, till you may doe it without controllment, you haue of late stood out against your brother, and hee hath tane you newly into his grace, where it is impossible you should take root, but by the faire weather that you make your selfe, it is needful that you frame the season for your owne haruest

Iohn. I had rather be a canker in a hedge, then a rose in his grace, and it better fits my bloud to be disdain'd of all, then to fashion a carriage to rob loue from any: in this (though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man) it must not be denied but I am a plaine dealing villaine, I am trusted with a mussell, and enfranchisde with a clog, therefore I haue decreed, not to sing in my cage: if I had my mouth, I would bite: if I had my liberty, I would do my liking: in the meane time, let me be that I am, and seeke not to alter me

Con. Can you make no vse of your discontent? Iohn. I will make all vse of it, for I vse it onely. Who comes here? what newes Borachio?

Enter Borachio.

Bor. I came yonder from a great supper, the Prince your brother is royally entertained by Leonato, and I can giue you intelligence of an intended marriage

Iohn. Will it serue for any Modell to build mischiefe on? What is hee for a foole that betrothes himselfe to vnquietnesse? Bor. Mary it is your brothers right hand

Iohn. Who, the most exquisite Claudio? Bor. Euen he

Iohn. A proper squier, and who, and who, which way lookes he? Bor. Mary on Hero, the daughter and Heire of Leonato

Iohn. A very forward March-chicke, how came you to this: Bor. Being entertain'd for a perfumer, as I was smoaking a musty roome, comes me the Prince and Claudio, hand in hand in sad conference: I whipt behind the Arras, and there heard it agreed vpon, that the Prince should wooe Hero for himselfe, and hauing obtain'd her, giue her to Count Claudio

Iohn. Come, come, let vs thither, this may proue food to my displeasure, that young start-vp hath all the glorie of my ouerthrow: if I can crosse him any way, I blesse my selfe euery way, you are both sure, and will assist mee? Conr. To the death my Lord

Iohn. Let vs to the great supper, their cheere is the greater that I am subdued, would the Cooke were of my minde: shall we goe proue whats to be done? Bor. Wee'll wait vpon your Lordship.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Leonato, his brother, his wife, Hero his daughter, and Beatrice his neece, and a kinsman.

Leonato. Was not Count Iohn here at supper? Brother. I saw him not

Beatrice. How tartly that Gentleman lookes, I neuer can see him, but I am heart-burn'd an howre after

Hero. He is of a very melancholy disposition

Beatrice. Hee were an excellent man that were made iust in the mid-way betweene him and Benedicke, the one is too like an image and saies nothing, and the other too like my Ladies eldest sonne, euermore tatling

Leon. Then halfe signior Benedicks tongue in Count Iohns mouth, and halfe Count Iohns melancholy in Signior Benedicks face

Beat. With a good legge, and a good foot vnckle, and money enough in his purse, such a man would winne any woman in the world, if he could get her good will

Leon. By my troth Neece, thou wilt neuer get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue

Brother. Infaith shee's too curst

Beat. Too curst is more then curst, I shall lessen Gods sending that way: for it is said, God sends a curst Cow short hornes, but to a Cow too curst he sends none

Leon. So, by being too curst, God will send you no hornes

Beat. Iust, if he send me no husband, for the which blessing, I am at him vpon my knees euery morning and euening: Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face, I had rather lie in the woollen

Leonato. You may light vpon a husband that hath no beard

Beatrice. What should I doe with him? dresse him in my apparell, and make him my waiting gentlewoman? he that hath a beard, is more then a youth: and he that hath no beard, is lesse then a man: and hee that is more then a youth, is not for mee: and he that is lesse then a man, I am not for him: therefore I will euen take sixepence in earnest of the Berrord, and leade his Apes into hell

Leon. Well then, goe you into hell

Beat. No, but to the gate, and there will the Deuill meete mee like an old Cuckold with hornes on his head, and say, get you to heauen Beatrice, get you to heauen, heere's no place for you maids, so deliuer I vp my Apes, and away to S[aint]. Peter: for the heauens, hee shewes mee where the Batchellers sit, and there liue wee as merry as the day is long

Brother. Well neece, I trust you will be rul'd by your father

Beatrice. Yes faith, it is my cosens dutie to make curtsie, and say, as it please you: but yet for all that cosin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make an other cursie, and say, father, as it please me

Leonato. Well neece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband

Beatrice. Not till God make men of some other mettall then earth, would it not grieue a woman to be ouermastred with a peece of valiant dust: to make account of her life to a clod of waiward marle? no vnckle, ile none: Adams sonnes are my brethren, and truly I hold it a sinne to match in my kinred

Leon. Daughter, remember what I told you, if the Prince doe solicit you in that kinde, you know your answere

Beatrice. The fault will be in the musicke cosin, if you be not woed in good time: if the Prince bee too important, tell him there is measure in euery thing, & so dance out the answere, for heare me Hero, wooing, wedding, & repenting, is as a Scotch jigge, a measure, and a cinquepace: the first suite is hot and hasty like a Scotch jigge (and full as fantasticall) the wedding manerly modest, (as a measure) full of state & aunchentry, and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinquepace faster and faster, till he sinkes into his graue

Leonato. Cosin you apprehend passing shrewdly

Beatrice. I haue a good eye vnckle, I can see a Church by daylight

Leon. The reuellers are entring brother, make good roome. Enter Prince, Pedro, Claudio, and Benedicke, and Balthasar, or dumbe Iohn, Maskers with a drum.

Pedro. Lady, will you walke about with your friend? Hero. So you walke softly, and looke sweetly, and say nothing, I am yours for the walke, and especially when I walke away

Pedro. With me in your company

Hero. I may say so when I please

Pedro. And when please you to say so? Hero. When I like your fauour, for God defend the Lute should be like the case

Pedro. My visor is Philemons roofe, within the house is Loue

Hero. Why then your visor should be thatcht

Pedro. Speake low if you speake Loue

Bene. Well, I would you did like me

Mar. So would not I for your owne sake, for I haue manie ill qualities

Bene. Which is one? Mar. I say my prayers alowd

Ben. I loue you the better, the hearers may cry Amen

Mar. God match me with a good dauncer

Balt. Amen

Mar. And God keepe him out of my sight when the daunce is done: answer Clarke

Balt. No more words, the Clarke is answered

Vrsula. I know you well enough, you are Signior Anthonio

Anth. At a word, I am not

Vrsula. I know you by the wagling of your head

Anth. To tell you true, I counterfet him

Vrsu. You could neuer doe him so ill well, vnlesse you were the very man: here's his dry hand vp & down, you are he, you are he

Anth. At a word I am not

Vrsula. Come, come, doe you thinke I doe not know you by your excellent wit? can vertue hide it selfe? goe to mumme, you are he, graces will appeare, and there's an end

Beat. Will you not tell me who told you so? Bene. No, you shall pardon me

Beat. Nor will you not tell me who you are? Bened. Not now

Beat. That I was disdainfull, and that I had my good wit out of the hundred merry tales: well, this was Signior Benedicke that said so

Bene. What's he? Beat. I am sure you know him well enough

Bene. Not I, beleeue me

Beat. Did he neuer make you laugh? Bene. I pray you what is he? Beat. Why he is the Princes ieaster, a very dull foole, onely his gift is, in deuising impossible slanders, none but Libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his witte, but in his villanie, for hee both pleaseth men and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and beat him: I am sure he is in the Fleet, I would he had boorded me

Bene. When I know the Gentleman, Ile tell him what you say

Beat. Do, do, hee'l but breake a comparison or two on me, which peraduenture (not markt, or not laugh'd at) strikes him into melancholly, and then there's a Partridge wing saued, for the foole will eate no supper that night. We must follow the Leaders

Ben. In euery good thing

Bea. Nay, if they leade to any ill, I will leaue them at the next turning.

Exeunt.

Musicke for the dance.

Iohn. Sure my brother is amorous on Hero, and hath withdrawne her father to breake with him about it: the Ladies follow her, and but one visor remaines

Borachio. And that is Claudio, I know him by his bearing

Iohn. Are not you signior Benedicke? Clau. You know me well, I am hee

Iohn. Signior, you are verie neere my Brother in his loue, he is enamor'd on Hero, I pray you disswade him from her, she is no equall for his birth: you may do the part of an honest man in it

Claudio. How know you he loues her? Iohn. I heard him sweare his affection

Bor. So did I too, and he swore he would marrie her to night

Iohn. Come, let vs to the banquet.

Ex. manet Clau.

Clau. Thus answere I in name of Benedicke, But heare these ill newes with the eares of Claudio: 'Tis certaine so, the Prince woes for himselfe: Friendship is constant in all other things, Saue in the Office and affaires of loue: Therefore all hearts in loue vse their owne tongues. Let euerie eye negotiate for it selfe, And trust no Agent: for beautie is a witch, Against whose charmes, faith melteth into blood: This is an accident of hourely proofe, Which I mistrusted not. Farewell therefore Hero. Enter Benedicke.

Ben. Count Claudio

Clau. Yea, the same

Ben. Come, will you goe with me? Clau. Whither? Ben. Euen to the next Willow, about your own businesse, Count. What fashion will you weare the Garland off? About your necke, like an Vsurers chaine? Or vnder your arme, like a Lieutenants scarfe? You must weare it one way, for the Prince hath got your Hero

Clau . I wish him ioy of her

Ben. Why that's spoken like an honest Drouier, so they sel Bullockes: but did you thinke the Prince wold haue serued you thus? Clau. I pray you leaue me

Ben. Ho now you strike like the blindman, 'twas the boy that stole your meate, and you'l beat the post

Clau. If it will not be, Ile leaue you. Enter.

Ben. Alas poore hurt fowle, now will he creepe into sedges: But that my Ladie Beatrice should know me, & not know me: the Princes foole! Hah? It may be I goe vnder that title, because I am merrie: yea but so I am apt to do my selfe wrong: I am not so reputed, it is the base (though bitter) disposition of Beatrice, that putt's the world into her person, and so giues me out: well, Ile be reuenged as I may. Enter the Prince.

Pedro. Now Signior, where's the Count, did you see him? Bene. Troth my Lord, I haue played the part of Lady Fame, I found him heere as melancholy as a Lodge in a Warren, I told him, and I thinke, told him true, that your grace had got the will of this young Lady, and I offered him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to binde him a rod, as being worthy to be whipt

Pedro. To be whipt, what's his fault? Bene. The flat transgression of a Schoole-boy, who being ouer-ioyed with finding a birds nest, shewes it his companion, and he steales it

Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust, a transgression? the transgression is in the stealer

Ben. Yet it had not been amisse the rod had beene made, and the garland too, for the garland he might haue worne himselfe, and the rod hee might haue bestowed on you, who (as I take it) haue stolne his birds nest

Pedro. I will but teach them to sing, and restore them to the owner

Bene. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith you say honestly

Pedro. The Lady Beatrice hath a quarrell to you, the Gentleman that daunst with her, told her shee is much wrong'd by you

Bene. O she misusde me past the indurance of a block: an oake but with one greene leafe on it, would haue answered her: my very visor began to assume life, and scold with her: shee told mee, not thinking I had beene my selfe, that I was the Princes Iester, and that I was duller then a great thaw, hudling iest vpon iest, with such impossible conueiance vpon me, that I stood like a man at a marke, with a whole army shooting at me: shee speakes poynyards, and euery word stabbes: if her breath were as terrible as terminations, there were no liuing neere her, she would infect to the north starre: I would not marry her, though she were indowed with all that Adam had left him before he transgrest, she would haue made Hercules haue turnd spit, yea, and haue cleft his club to make the fire too: come, talke not of her, you shall finde her the infernall Ate in good apparell. I would to God some scholler would coniure her, for certainely while she is heere, a man may liue as quiet in hell, as in a sanctuary, and people sinne vpon purpose, because they would goe thither, so indeed all disquiet, horror, and perturbation followes her. Enter Claudio and Beatrice, Leonato, Hero.

Pedro. Looke heere she comes

Bene. Will your Grace command mee any seruice to the worlds end? I will goe on the slightest arrand now to the Antypodes that you can deuise to send me on: I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the furthest inch of Asia: bring you the length of Prester Iohns foot: fetch you a hayre off the great Chams beard: doe you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather then hould three words conference, with this Harpy: you haue no employment for me? Pedro. None, but to desire your good company

Bene. O God sir, heeres a dish I loue not, I cannot indure this Lady tongue. Enter.

Pedr. Come Lady, come, you haue lost the heart of Signior Benedicke

Beatr. Indeed my Lord, hee lent it me a while, and I gaue him vse for it, a double heart for a single one, marry once before he wonne it of mee, with false dice, therefore your Grace may well say I haue lost it

Pedro. You haue put him downe Lady, you haue put him downe

Beat. So I would not he should do me, my Lord, lest I should prooue the mother of fooles: I haue brought Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seeke

Pedro. Why how now Count, wherfore are you sad? Claud. Not sad my Lord

Pedro. How then? sicke? Claud. Neither, my Lord

Beat. The Count is neither sad, nor sicke, nor merry, nor well: but ciuill Count, ciuill as an Orange, and something of a iealous complexion

Pedro. Ifaith Lady, I thinke your blazon to be true. though Ile be sworne, if hee be so, his conceit is false: heere Claudio, I haue wooed in thy name, and faire Hero is won, I haue broke with her father, and his good will obtained, name the day of marriage, and God giue thee ioy

Leona. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, & all grace say, Amen to it

Beatr. Speake Count, tis your Qu

Claud. Silence is the perfectest Herault of ioy, I were but little happy if I could say, how much? Lady, as you are mine, I am yours, I giue away my selfe for you, and doat vpon the exchange

Beat. Speake cosin, or (if you cannot) stop his mouth with a kisse, and let not him speake neither

Pedro. In faith Lady you haue a merry heart

Beatr. Yea my Lord I thanke it, poore foole it keepes on the windy side of Care, my coosin tells him in his eare that he is in my heart

Clau. And so she doth coosin

Beat. Good Lord for alliance: thus goes euery one to the world but I, and I am sun-burn'd, I may sit in a corner and cry, heigh ho for a husband

Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one

Beat. I would rather haue one of your fathers getting: hath your Grace ne're a brother like you? your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them

Prince. Will you haue me? Lady

Beat. No, my Lord, vnlesse I might haue another for working-daies, your Grace is too costly to weare euerie day: but I beseech your Grace pardon mee, I was borne to speake all mirth, and no matter

Prince. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry, best becomes you, for out of question, you were born in a merry howre

Beatr. No sure my Lord, my Mother cried, but then there was a starre daunst, and vnder that was I borne: cosins God giue you ioy

Leonato. Neece, will you looke to those things I told you of? Beat. I cry you mercy Vncle, by your Graces pardon.

Exit Beatrice.

Prince. By my troth a pleasant spirited Lady

Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her my Lord, she is neuer sad, but when she sleepes, and not euer sad then: for I haue heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamt of vnhappinesse, and wakt her selfe with laughing

Pedro. Shee cannot indure to heare tell of a husband

Leonato. O, by no meanes, she mocks all her wooers out of suite

Prince. She were an excellent wife for Benedick

Leonato. O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a weeke married, they would talke themselues madde

Prince. Counte Claudio, when meane you to goe to Church? Clau. To morrow my Lord, Time goes on crutches, till Loue haue all his rites

Leonato. Not till monday, my deare sonne, which is hence a iust seuen night, and a time too briefe too, to haue all things answer minde

Prince. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing, but I warrant thee Claudio, the time shall not goe dully by vs, I will in the interim, vndertake one of Hercules labors, which is, to bring Signior Benedicke and the Lady Beatrice into a mountaine of affection, th' one with th' other, I would faine haue it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assistance as I shall giue you direction

Leonato. My Lord, I am for you, though it cost mee ten nights watchings

Claud. And I my Lord

Prin. And you to gentle Hero? Hero. I will doe any modest office, my Lord, to helpe my cosin to a good husband

Prin. And Benedick is not the vnhopefullest husband that I know: thus farre can I praise him, hee is of a noble straine, of approued valour, and confirm'd honesty, I will teach you how to humour your cosin, that shee shall fall in loue with Benedicke, and I, with your two helpes, will so practise on Benedicke, that in despight of his quicke wit, and his queasie stomacke, hee shall fall in loue with Beatrice: if wee can doe this, Cupid is no longer an Archer, his glory shall be ours, for wee are the onely louegods, goe in with me, and I will tell you my drift. Enter.

Enter Iohn and Borachio.

Ioh. It is so, the Count Claudio shal marry the daughter of Leonato

Bora. Yea my Lord, but I can crosse it

Iohn. Any barre, any crosse, any impediment, will be medicinable to me, I am sicke in displeasure to him, and whatsoeuer comes athwart his affection, ranges euenly with mine, how canst thou crosse this marriage? Bor. Not honestly my Lord, but so couertly, that no dishonesty shall appeare in me

Iohn. Shew me breefely how

Bor. I thinke I told your Lordship a yeere since, how much I am in the fauour of Margaret, the waiting gentlewoman to Hero

Iohn. I remember

Bor. I can at any vnseasonable instant of the night, appoint her to looke out at her Ladies chamber window

Iohn. What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage? Bor. The poyson of that lies in you to temper, goe you to the Prince your brother, spare not to tell him, that hee hath wronged his Honor in marrying the renowned Claudio, whose estimation do you mightily hold vp, to a contaminated stale, such a one as Hero

Iohn. What proofe shall I make of that? Bor. Proofe enough, to misuse the Prince, to vexe Claudio, to vndoe Hero, and kill Leonato, looke you for any other issue? Iohn. Onely to despight them, I will endeauour any thing

Bor. Goe then, finde me a meete howre, to draw on Pedro and the Count Claudio alone, tell them that you know that Hero loues me, intend a kinde of zeale both to the Prince and Claudio (as in a loue of your brothers honor who hath made this match) and his friends reputation, who is thus like to be cosen'd with the semblance of a maid, that you haue discouer'd thus: they will scarcely beleeue this without triall: offer them instances which shall beare no lesse likelihood, than to see mee at her chamber window, heare me call Margaret, Hero; heare Margaret terme me Claudio, and bring them to see this the very night before the intended wedding, for in the meane time, I will so fashion the matter, that Hero shall be absent, and there shall appeare such seeming truths of Heroes disloyaltie, that iealousie shall be cal'd assurance, and all the preparation ouerthrowne

Iohn. Grow this to what aduerse issue it can, I will put it in practise: be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducates

Bor. Be thou constant in the accusation, and my cunning shall not shame me

Iohn. I will presentlie goe learne their day of marriage. Enter.

Enter Benedicke alone.

Bene. Boy

Boy. Signior

Bene. In my chamber window lies a booke, bring it hither to me in the orchard

Boy. I am heere already sir. Enter.

Bene. I know that, but I would haue thee hence, and heere againe. I doe much wonder, that one man seeing how much another man is a foole, when he dedicates his behauiours to loue, will after hee hath laught at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his owne scorne, by falling in loue, & such a man is Claudio. I haue known when there was no musicke with him but the drum and the fife, and now had hee rather heare the taber and the pipe: I haue knowne when he would haue walkt ten mile afoot, to see a good armor, and now will he lie ten nights awake caruing the fashion of a new dublet: he was wont to speake plaine, & to the purpose (like an honest man & a souldier) and now is he turn'd orthography, his words are a very fantasticall banquet, iust so many strange dishes: may I be so conuerted, & see with these eyes? I cannot tell, I thinke not: I will not bee sworne, but loue may transforme me to an oyster, but Ile take my oath on it, till he haue made an oyster of me, he shall neuer make me such a foole: one woman is faire, yet I am well: another is wise, yet I am well: another vertuous, yet I am well: but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace: rich shee shall be, that's certaine: wise, or Ile none: vertuous, or Ile neuer cheapen her: faire, or Ile neuer looke on her: milde, or come not neere me: Noble, or not for an Angell: of good discourse: an excellent Musitian, and her haire shal be of what colour it please God, hah! the Prince and Monsieur Loue, I will hide me in the Arbor. Enter Prince, Leonato, Claudio, and Iacke Wilson.

Prin. Come, shall we heare this musicke? Claud. Yea my good Lord: how still the euening is. As husht on purpose to grace harmonie

Prin. See you where Benedicke hath hid himselfe? Clau. O very well my Lord: the musicke ended, Wee'll fit the kid-foxe with a penny worth

Prince. Come Balthasar, wee'll heare that song again

Balth. O good my Lord, taxe not so bad a voyce, To slander musicke any more then once

Prin. It is the witnesse still of excellency, To slander Musicke any more then once

Prince. It is the witnesse still of excellencie, To put a strange face on his owne perfection, I pray thee sing, and let me woe no more

Balth. Because you talke of wooing, I will sing, Since many a wooer doth commence his suit, To her he thinkes not worthy, yet he wooes, Yet will he sweare he loues

Prince. Na